#i kid you not he is the most wonderful God fearing gentle kind man of integrity i know. i love him terribly.

[thebirdandhersong]

Okay y'all it is over it is done the conversation has been had he knows I love him we are still friends I have cried my eyes out properly I have laughed again my heart will keep on hurting for a while but it is FINISHED

[cheolsfae]

Hello:) I was wondering if you do a reading for how Stray Kids would be like with a sensitive s/o ( like the one for enhypen)? Thank you!!!🩷

Mhm!

*Disclaimer: Solely for fun. Please do not take this seriously! For entertainment purposes only!*

Minho's and Hyunjin's are so fucking sweet I swear to god! I'm loyal to changbin, loyal to changbin, loyal to chang-

𓆦 Chris (Bangchan)

Past: queen of wands, page of swords

At first, he'd be happy that he managed to pull someone as sweet as them. He could possibly have staked them out first though. Like been watchful of who was after them too. So like making sure he was the only one after them. Like he wants that person to himself. All of them for him and no one else. He might be the type to be absolutely confident in himself that he could pull them even if there was competition. Overly confident too.

Present: 4 of cups, 6 of swords (reversed), the star

I think he would be the type to kind of start walking on egg shells with this person once the honeymoon phase is over. Mainly because he's scared to hurt them. He doesn't want to say something that would cause them to be in pain. He wouldn't want to end things with them, cause they are someone who he is wishing for but it is difficult for him to be his most self with. So it would be hard for him to keep seeing someone like this. I'm not sure how long this would last.

Future: the emperor, 5 of cups

He would see a future with this person but ultimately, I don't think it would last very long. He'd be disappointed in himself for not feeling completely fulfilled in himself if he continued on hiding his true self from this person just to spare their feelings. Like yes, it's a nice thing to do but if you can't be authentic why keep up this facade for the rest of your life? It's extremely tiring to do for even an hour let alone a whole life time. That's just crazy. He would end up having to leave this person.

𓆦 Minho

Past: the hanged man, the magician

So when he came into contact with this person he'd immediately know he'd have to change things. Like the way he spoke about things, he'd know he'd have to say it in a more gentle way than what he is typically used to. He'd be so into this person, he might have been hoping and praying they would come towards him. Like they made the effort for him, doing all the extra-ness for him. But he'd also be giving the same energy. It's not all going to be one sided. He's going to want to change his ways for this person.

Present: 8 of pentacles, 6 of wands

He's going to want to be a better person for this sweet person. It's going to "force" him to really work on himself. He's going to want to be more open with this person, more affectionate. This type of person could really soften his heart (not that he's cold, he's just not flat out affectionate, it's more indirect) and be more willing to show the affection outright. It looks like he could be successful in this change if he was willing to put in the effort.

Future: page of wands, ace of swords

He really would want to keep expanding and seeing where things could go with this person. He would absolutely be more direct about what he sees in the future with this type of person. He'd be more willing to be more public with affection. This is the type of person, I feel would suit him best. This person seems to have lessons for him to learn.

𓆦 Changbin

Past: page of cups, 3 of swords

So, he's gone through this before. He is sensitive, regardless if he wants to admit it or not. He is. So if he was to make any sort of effort to get to know someone who was also sensitive, he'd be fearful of them hurting him more than he himself hurting them. He maybe a big buff guy but he's really soft and needs to be protected too. So, if he were to make this offer to someone more sensitive, he'd be extremely hesitant and they'd have to be willing to protect him like he is for them. Equal ground in that sense.

Present: 3 of cups, 10 of cups

Once he's gotten past the fear of them hurting him, he'd feel emotionally fulfilled. He'd be happy with everything that he's got going for him at that point. He'd feel like he's earned everything he's got with this person. He'd feel like he could actually build something with this person. I think that this person would feel the exact same way as he would. Really cute!!

Future: 6 of wands, the hermit

He'd feel like he's accomplished so much. He's a Leo, so of course he'd be feeling very prideful of what he's got both with this person and what he's got going for him career wise. I don't think this would be boastful energy but something more subtle. Not something like we are used to seeing from him, I feel like he'd be low key about being this happy, feels more genuine from him than his silliness. So like a sense of maturity with it.

𓆦 Hyunjin

Past: queen of pentacles, the world

Very nurturing and sweet towards this person, not a doubt in my mind that he'd be the absolute sweetest towards them. He views this person as his whole world. This could be something he does with every partner but especially if this person is very sensitive. He wants to protect them at all costs. Nothing is going to harm them. He wants to be their safety net. Will do whatever he can to keep them safe!

Present: 10 of pentacles, king of cups

He's emotionally stable enough to take care of them. He wants to be able to provide for them in any which way they need it. He wants to be their solid support system. He's always going to be there for them no matter how small the issue is. They stubbed their toe? He's right there making sure they are icing it, making sure they aren't bleeding, lmao. He's really there for them through thick and thin. Even if he doesn't particularly like them when they are arguing, he'd still bail them out of trouble in a heart beat.

Future: 4 of words, 7 of wands

He wants to get to a secure place with this person where he can be himself and still feel like he's putting a whole lot of effort towards this connection. Not laziness but a comfortable love. He wants to be able to enjoy it with this person no matter how slow moving they are.

𓆦 Jisung

Past: the star, 7 of swords

So he had hoped for someone like that. But I don't think he really would know what to expect from this person. So in the beginning, he'd be a little fake. He wouldn't exactly be showing his true colors right away. He'd be in a state of walking on egg shells. Hiding himself because he doesn't know this person very well.

Present: the high priestess, 7 of wands

He would be very suspicious of this person. He'd feel like they were definitely hiding something. Like they are working on screwing him over. He may have some serious attachment issues. He could have a disorganized attachment style. Like he has to leave before they can leave him or he has to be more clingy thinking that will get them to stay. Depending on what kind of attachment the other person has.

Future: 8 of swords, page of pentacles

He's going to be getting too much in his head if someone like this walked into his life. He'd definitely self sabotage because he doesn't think he deserves someone like that. He would end up bread crumbing them. Not intentionally but because he might have low self esteem when it comes to romantic conncections.

𓆦 Felix

Babylon by 5 Seconds of Summer is coming to mind for this one.

Past: queen of cups, 6 of swords

At first, I think they would both appreciate it. Like yes, I have someone who understands me. We are both on the same level. They would be letting go of old patterns they had prior to this connection. Like they would be able to be vulnerable with one another. No need to hide who they are with one another. Just bare it all and they'd accept each other, no hesitation whatsoever.

Present: queen of wands, 6 of cups

It would kind of start to move quickly. That's because they'd feel like they'd known each other for a life time. It'd be great and good for a while but then something switches and it kind of goes out and now they are constantly bickering at one another. Over silly little things too. Yes, there are growing pains but they shouldn't be all that often and it's going to turn incredibly toxic.

Future: knight of swords, the magician (reversed)

As quickly as this started it would end just as swiftly. No doubt that they care for one another deeply but eventually, I feel that it would end up turning into a game of who's a better manipulator. I don't think it would be intentional at first but it would more towards the end of it. It's like who's more daring to use their emotions to get what they want.

𓆦 Seungmin

Past: 9 of pentacles, judgement

So, at first he'd be hesitant to take this kind of risk. Because he does like his independence. He like's being on his own. No shame in that. He'd be going back and forth about what he wants from such a person but ultimately I think he'd take that risk. He's more scared of the harm he could end up doing to this person because he isn't completely healed but I think in this case, he would heal more if he got with this person. They'd do him no harm, they would help him learn and be better.

Present: 4 of wands, king of wands

He'd end up caving for this person. He'd end up taking the gamble. He'd start off really passionate but once he learned that that's not the type of person this person is, he'd tone it down a lot and be more true to the type of partner he is rather than putting up this front that he's all passion and nothing more. He'd be more down to earth.

Future: 4 of swords, 10 of pentacles

He'd definitely tone it down a lot. But don't get it mixed up, he's still deeply and utterly in love with this person just a more realistic version of love than what Hollywood makes it to be. It's more calming. This person is his peace and he wants to keep it that way forever if he can.

𓆦 Jeongin (I.N.)

Past: 5 of pentacles (reversed), 9 of pentacles

I think if/when he meets this type of person he's going to have released an old energy of holding grudges. He's going to be happy and living his best life. I think he would be more than willing to give this whole thing a shot. It would be something good for him, he'd be willing to give this whole thing a go. Even without knowing the risks that are involved with it.

Present: 8 of pentacles, 10 of wands (reversed)

He's also be the type to work on himself to better himself for this person. He doesn't want to be a burden to this person. Like having an emotionally stunted partner is not something anyone should have to deal with and he's hoping he isn't that way to that person, he wants to be someone reliable. A "man's man" if that makes any sense.

Future: ace of wands, 4 of swords

He's going to be very forward with this person. Just flat out direct mainly because he doesn't want them to over think. He wants them to know how much he cares for them. He doesn't want them to feel like they are being left in the dark. That's something that he wouldn't like being done to him so why do it to another person?

[rpmemes-galore]

raw lines from unlikely sources ... sentence starters 

“Then perish.”

“And still, I survive.”

“Pick a god and pray.”

“Despite everything, its still you.”

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

“Then become the dirt I walk on.“

“I am a monument to all your sins.“

“Hell is empty, all the devils are here.“

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

“You cannot kill me in a way that matters.“

“Violence for violence is the rule of beasts.“

“If you want me to die, you can just say so.“

“Your secrets are safe with my indifference.“

“Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?”

“You will survive. It will hurt, but you will live.”

“I will face God and walk backwards into hell.“

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

“I haven’t been a kid since I was eight years old.”

“You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength.“

“I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions.“

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

“You cannot condemn those who build your throne.“

“To become God is the loneliest achievement of all.“

“Pay a man enough, and he’ll walk barefoot into Hell.“

“No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it.“

“You kneel before my throne, unaware it was built on lies.“

“If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me.“

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle.“

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

“My ancestors are smiling on me… Can yours say the same?“

“God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished.“

“There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times.“

“You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature.“

“Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won.“

“I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing.“

“If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have.“

“The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave.“

“I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.“

“Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?“

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

“So you think you’re the only one struggling, when in fact, everyone goes through it.“

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

“Dude, sucking at something is the first step towards being sort of good at something.”

“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.“

“What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

“I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.“

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

“If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

“You see, there's no need to wonder where your god is, 'cause he's right here! And he's fresh out of mercy.“

“The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell, yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil.”

“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“

“The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice.“

“What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now?”

“You’ve got to make a statement. You’ve got to look inside yourself and say: 'what am I willing to put up with today?’“

“I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.“

“Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have.“

“Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show.“

“One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe... and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

request(s); IZURU SMUT WITH AFAB READER - IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT THE CONTENT INCLUDED IN IT IS,I JUST, NO ONE REALLY WRITES FOR THE SCARY M A N 😢😢😢

paring(s); Izuru x AFAB!reader

warning(s); cussing, woAHH reader is a prostitute hired by enoshima, reader is AFAB, oral sex (m receiving), humiliation kink whoop, degradation kink double whoop, ah yes dirty talk, degrading names, spit-play,  prositution, multiple orgasms, wall sex, slow and steady wins the race, dumbification, begging, dacryphillia, sadism, kind of like fuck or die???? but not really??????? AND DEAR LORD I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WITH THIS GOD oii

note; i actually had a dream similar to this— also i lowkey got attached to these characters and now im seriously considering making a series of this???? DHSBJDDBF IDK IT REMINDS ME OF, LIKE AAAA IDK

wc; 4.1k+

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Everything was terribly boring. 

It was funny; that had been the only thought Izuru seemed to have in his brain, even as you were on your knees sucking him off like he was your last meal. Glaring down at you, he stifled a disappointed sigh. In all honesty, you weren’t bad; but he knows he could do much better, perhaps even find much better. It was almost a guarantee that he’d get someone else to do the job for him much better. 

Sitting on the throne of a comfortable chair, he had barely broken a sweat, nor had he even moaned a single time. Of course, that would frustrate you; you were squeezing whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth, ‘faking’ moans—or at least that’s what you told yourself you were doing—to send vibrations down his spine, and swallowing all the filthy pre-cum of his cock had released. And the man didn’t even have the gall to at least pretend to like it. 

It irritated you.

Why had he even accepted Enoshima’s offer for you if he hadn’t even been enjoying it? You hadn’t even touched yourself yet, and you were the one completely soaking in your panties—whilst you swore you heard him sigh, and not one of pleasure. Every part of it was humiliating for you.

“This is boring, get off.” You perked your head up, popping your lips off the unsatisfied pink tip, and to your humiliation, you looked up at him with sad, puppy dog eyes; ones that you hadn’t even purposely put on. You felt your heart drop all the way down to your stomach, “Boring…?” Well, that did it. 

Desperation turned into anger, and before you knew it, you had been crawling on this man’s lap, thighs straddling him, and hands digging into his shoulder as you looked down at him with feigned dominance. You gritted your teeth, he hadn’t a single reaction, just a look of genuine curiosity, and the same look of bored annoyance. He didn’t seem to like being suddenly touched, not like you even cared. Boring, huh? You’d prove to this self-entitled fuck, you weren’t as boring as he thought you to be. 

“... What do you think you’re doing?” With his question of genuine intent to know, his dull tone of voice seemed to have affected your interpretation of what he truly meant to say. Despite the condescending and almost offended tone, he truly wanted to know. Someone like you, crawling into his lap as if you hadn’t been face-to-face with possibly the world’s most dangerous human being; brought a small spark of interest in his chest.

Maybe you had some potential, he would think. “Are you trying to prove yourself to me?” With his eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation, you leaned back as you felt him lean in. With his nose inches away from yours, you shrunk just a slight but kept your act as strong as you could hold it for.

You gulped, gaze and grip faltering underneath his piercing gaze. Suddenly you felt small again. Your previous surge of dominance seemed to crumble and collapse as he brought his hands up to grope at your hips, reminding you who was really in charge here. He narrowed his eyes as he felt your hesitance and yielding, his large hands that had cupped your ass had practically been supporting all your weight as you backed down in the body and in mind. Damn it. He wondered where your confidence went, it was only just getting fun— but perhaps, all good things come to an end.

Well. He wasn’t going to let you give up that easily.

Suddenly, he let go, causing your ass that had once been held up by his hands, to fall back and knock onto his knees harshly; and you swore you could see a ghost of an expectant smirk on his face. Surprising you further, Izuru uttered 4 words that only seemed to confuse you, yet excite you all the same.

“Go on then. Try.” Your breath hitched, averted eyes now confused and focused them back onto the long-haired male. “W- what?” Izuru’s eyes narrowed at you, and the impatient look he had sent to you almost felt like a reward as you felt yourself growing more sodden. “Try and prove that you aren’t just another hole. That’s why you’re still here, no?” He spoke, and you swore you could hear his voice lower in tone.

He rested his hands on the armrests of his chair, leaning back ever so slightly as he got comfortable; as if he was about to watch a performance made just for him—which hadn’t been far from the truth.

But to your surprise and not his, you obeyed. 

If this was your chance to prove yourself to him— the ultimate hope that everyone seemed to be intimidated by—you’d take it. Of course, you would. 

Despite the growing anxiety in your heart that you’d mess up, you pushed it down and put one brave façade; he would sense your fear if you displayed it too much. 

Your efforts turned futile anyway; you should’ve known he’d sense your hesitance. 

Acknowledging your hesitance you thought hadn’t been too obvious about, Izuru brought it up. “What’s stopping you? Your fear?” Izuru hummed, leaning down to peck at your chest, “Well, that’s understandable; you should be scared.” Followed by the light sound of his lips against your heated shoulder. 

“... Though I assume that’s not what you’re afraid of at this moment.” Assume? More like knew. You were so predictable to him, a flick of your finger could tell him exactly what you’re thinking. With a tender gaze you were surely seeing wrong, he stared up at you expectantly as he waited for your answer. 

“Well?” You gritted your teeth at his sudden gentleness, taking more offence to it than you should have. You didn’t like being treated with kid gloves, not by him at least; for all you know, he kills children. “I’m not scared of anything—” He was huge, of course, you were terrified. ”How do you know I’m not just trying to slow it down, so you’re ready for it?” You challenged, shifting yourself above his tip that still glistened with your saliva from the earlier blow. Izuru looked at you, nearly taken aback. 

It made you feel incompetent. As if he thought you couldn’t do it, as if he thought you couldn’t give him the best night of your life. Of course, you’d be offended. No one likes being underestimated, especially not by him. It just brings you a whole new different feeling of humiliation. 

And he knew that. He just wanted you to hurry up, you know, provoke you a little. Foreplay was… Boring; he’d think with a small smile.

“Surely, you’re not that idio—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, lips parting and eyebrow twitching from the way your slick cunt slid over the tip of his dick, sinking in with ease. “I- I’m not what?” You breathed out, a shaky, smug grin contorting on your face as you tried your best to conceal the fact his dick had felt like it had literally been splitting you in two. “Hnnahh— Jesus-” You dropped your head for a second, nails digging deeper into the material of his suit; surprisingly, he didn’t care all that much about the material damage—at the moment, he cared more about the fact you hadn’t even sunk half his dick in yet, and you already looked like you were near-tears.

Maybe care would be an overstatement. 

You bit down on your once-smug smile, jaw going slack as you felt the pleasant curve of his dick, rub against your vaginal walls ever so slightly—following the movements of your own heavy panting. “You shouldn’t be so cocky, S/o.” He didn’t seem to hear the irony hiding in between his almost-mocking words.

You scoffed at his taunting statement, staring him straight in the eye as you walked further into his trap, and sunk down lower—stifling a wince as you felt him sink in you alarmingly deep. How big was he!? Well, you already knew the answer to that question. Your jaw still hurt from earlier. But that stretch had been positively incomparable to the stretch your pussy had currently been experiencing. 

Izuru pursed his lips, silently groaning at the way your walls clamped onto him as if you were already trying to milk him of his cum. You were so tight, he noted in his mind; well he wasn’t going to complain. As a sex worker, he would’ve expected you to be looser, easier to slip in; it seemed one of his predictions had been incorrect. 

In a dry, uncaring tone, he addressed the bead of sweat forming on your forehead from the stretch. “Can you really take it? You look like you’re in pain.” the part that irked you the most had been the small undertone of genuine concern for your being. Yeah, Izuru; the ultimate I-don’t-care-if-you’re-dead, cared if you could take his dick. 

Maybe your heart would’ve been swelling with joy, had it not taken a large hit on your pride. You were a sex worker, not the protagonist of a fucking romance comedy. 

You could feel yourself growing angrier and angrier by the second; a large part of you just wanted to get him off and leave—but there was a larger part of you that… strangely wanted to please this man, prove him wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, the urge was purely sexual. 

Rolling your eyes at his ‘concern’, “Can you just- Nh!” you held your breath before clutching onto his suit a little more desperately than you wanted to as you sunk the rest of him inside you. Embarrassment made its debut in your reddening cheeks as you unwillingly let a few whimpers slip out. “—B- be fucking quiet? For on- Mn! O- once?” He paused before retorting back in that same blunt tone, seemingly unamused by your curses as he had been busy watching your bodily reactions closely, as well as feeling them first hand. “... You’re shivering.” He addressed the tremor of your shoulders, as well as the contractions of your walls against his cock. 

“It- It’s cold.” You lied through your teeth, to which he found annoying; surely, you knew that he would read through that lie, so what was the point of even trying? 

Sighing in annoyance, he bucked his hips, exhaling sharply through his nose as you yelped and collapsed onto him, body going limp as you felt him hit your sweet spot. With a slightly panicked moan, you dug your shined face deeper into the crook of his shoulder, causing him to shiver as he felt the breath of your moan hit his neck. “Hnn-! A- a- already?” Izuru scoffed quietly, “I thought you wanted me to be quiet. Which one is it?” Izuru’s condescending voice kissed your ear, and you felt your own shivers being sent down your spine from his voice alone. 

Putting on an annoyed façade that would soon shatter, you rolled your eyes—something you would probably be doing often tonight. “You’re really annoying, you know th-? Oh-! Oh fuck-!” You moaned, eyes shooting open, revealing your dilated pupils to the wall behind him. With your hands fanned out on his suited back, you arched your back against him, grinding slowly as you hugged him off the back of his chair. 

Mewling quietly, you found yourself trying to stifle your own moans, so you could hear better his own; only to pout as you heard nothing. Your sole purpose and presence with him at this moment had been to please him. You… needed to please him.

And only Atua knows what Junko’ll do to you if she finds out you didn’t satisfy him. 

Sighing in slight frustration, you felt him tense underneath your touch as you locked your lips onto his neck, lips searching and exploring every inch of the sensitive skin of his neck. Izuru’s eyes widened a fraction, only to lid as he felt himself growing bored again. “What are you doing?” You muffled against his neck, “I’m trying to find your erogenous zone—“ a large grin grew on your face as you felt him go rigid and stiff against you—as if he wasn’t already rigid and stiff—as you grazed your teeth on a certain spot on his Adams’s apple, a sign that you hit the jackpot.

“There, huh? I never would’ve guessed…” You spoke through gentle moans caused by Izuru’s natural reaction to fuck up into you harder. He shivered, sure, he was good at everything; but even he didn’t know he had an erogenous zone—or rather, where it was.

And now you had this information. 

You felt your confidence sprout back up again as you felt him melt, slowly but surely into your embrace, and slowly but surely, you tried gaining back control of what had been happening. 

That had been your plan; but as soon as your hands reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, he flinched, nails digging into your hips harshly. “Hands off.” He growled, crimson gaze darkening in irritation from your feather-like tugs. 

Yeah, your plan. 

His scalp was sensitive, and he had made the mistake of reacting so strongly to your touch to it, right in front of you no less. It was a weakness; one you’d surely take advantage of as you fucked this man. Or rather, as he fucked you. Izuru grimaced as he could practically hear the mischievous grin in your voice, “Yeah?” with a warning tone, Izuru tried stopping you, “S/o.” you probably shouldn’t have felt as excited as you did from his warning voice; especially from a guy like him, but there was a part of you that really wanted to know what would happen—what he was warning you about. 

So you made the best mistake of your life; and tugged the already impatient man’s hair. 

Izuru hadn’t given you the time to even inhale a single breath, as he had you pinned to the wall in half a second. Shit, he’s fast. Well, what did you expect? Izuru was definitely more than ordinary—and as you still felt the stretch burning between your legs, you knew that more than anyone. “I- Izuru?” Izuru sighed as you shrunk underneath his hold, forcing him to hold you up by his hips that had been pressed up against you. Your cattiness seemed to disappear the moment he manhandled you to the wall; it was predictable. All bark, no bite. He wondered why he wasted his time with you. 

With your eyes wide and helpless, Izuru remained unamused. “Let’s get this over with.”

Underneath the shell of your body, you could feel your blood boil as the man thrusting into you, had given you that familiar condescending stare of pity. He didn’t seem very pitiful as he watched you writhe and squirm underneath him from his unrelenting pace, though you could still read the emotion clear as day; your eyes glared right back at him—though you could barely see where you had been glaring, as your vision had been blurred from your own tears.

He was planning to push you to your limits, because, maybe when you’re sobbing and begging for him to stop; maybe then, you’d be less boring. 

‘He was the ultimate at everything; of course, he would be good at this too-’ “Fuhh...- fuck!” Your first orgasm of the night washed over your body, shaking uncontrollably as you had been less than prepared for it. You’d often have to fake your orgasms or get yourself off once the person using you was done. So you, whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, weren’t used to cumming so quickly. Previous thoughts of distaste had been long forgotten, as you had now been completely weak; moments away from breaking down and throwing away your dignity to prolong sex with Izuru. 

Sobs spilled out of your mouth as Izuru helped you ride out your high. The man watched you from above, hands hooking underneath your thighs and slamming you against the wall harder than your body had gone slack in your arms. For him, it felt more like he was pleasuring you—but for some reason, he didn’t mind all too much. 

Through tear-stained eyelids, you glared at him, your warm body still trembling from the near-mind-blowing orgasm he granted you. “I- I can take it.” At least, you thought you could. In all honesty, you didn’t care. You wanted it, and furthermore, he hasn’t even cum yet. Your job wasn’t finished. If you had to be fucked until your mind broke for him to cum, you���d do it. You didn’t have a choice—but even if you did, you wouldn’t deny him; you’d have to be insane to. 

“How... persistent…” Izuru murmured quietly to himself, bringing a hand up to tap your chin, causing you to perk your head up and flush at the gentle touch; the way he looked at you made you feel as if you were a mere science project being examined. It may have not been ideal, but being gazed at like nothing but a lowly bug is better than being ignored.  

It was so easy to fuck you into submission, he thought. Grunting, he pulled all the way out, lip twitching at the lewd squelch of your pussy. He almost lost himself in the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his cock once again, before tightening as if you were trying to welcome him back in.

Izuru, with a sharp inhale, roughly slammed back in, hitting all the right places despite the thrust being as quick as a flash of a camera. You gasped for air, you felt as if you had just been punched with his hips—and before you could recover from it, you felt him pull out yet again, only to slam back in, a small exhale huffing out the man’s lips as he kept on doing that same repetition. 

“F- faster— Pl- please!” You choked out as tears welled up in your eyes, his thrusts had been so powerful and forceful, yet so calculated; as if he was aiming for your G-spot every time he thrust in—which he was. He growled under his breath, voice still monotone but more strained than before—it was almost impossible for him.  

“You’re too tight to go fast.” He deadpanned, “if I go any faster, I might break you.” He didn’t really care whether he broke you, but who in their right mind would want to be broken? 

It was almost comedic how quickly you perked up at the mention of being broken. “I- I wanna! Really bad, r- real bad! Please!” You blabbered and begged like an idiot, your dignity long gone. He hissed at the way your pussy gushed with your juices and excitement, struggling yet again to piston himself into you. “Do you only think with your cunt?” Izuru narrowed his eyes down at you, disbelief and disgust gleamed in his red eyes; and it only made you squeeze around him unwillingly.

You shrunk, shaking your head as a babyish pout contorted onto your lips. “N- no, I-” The slow slapping noises of his hips on yours grew in volume, and your eyes widened as you could feel and hear him getting more frantic, hitting you deeper—places you were sure weren’t even supposed to be touched were abused by the crown of his growing cock.

Through a tone that tried its best to be calm and composed, Izuru shakily breathed out. “Open your mouth.” 

“W- Huh?” With slurred speech and crossed eyes, you tried your best to find his red eyes through the tears that blurred your vision. You were so fucked out, you weren’t even sure if he had actually said anything or if it had been your imagination.

“You heard me, don’t play dumb.” You hadn’t been playing dumb; you were dumbed. But Izuru held no patience for your games, and you could definitely feel that in his increasingly painful grip on your ass—he was sure to leave a bruise on your skin. With a confused look in your eye, you hesitantly dropped your jaw for him, whimpering and jolting as you felt something wet spew into your mouth. Before you could whine or even get the chance to complain, Izuru had forcefully knocked you against the wall again, lightly hitting your head as he steadied you against the surface with one hand as he used the other to close your jaw.

You hadn’t even registered the fact you had spit into your mouth as your mind had been too foggy from the intense feeling building up in your stomach once again. “Swallow.” Without so much as a questioning noise as a reaction to what he had done, you obeyed. Swallowing thickly with bleary eyes, you tried your best to keep eye contact with the man who seemed way too calm for the aggressive pace he had been maintaining like a pro.

Not thinking much of it, you dropped your jaw and flattened your tongue down against your chin; it was almost instinctual as you obediently showed him you had swallowed all of it. It seemed to please him, as he traced his thumb absentmindedly over your jawline; it almost felt like a reward, to be touched like that. His gentle hands differed greatly from his pace that fastened within each second that passed the both of you by. 

Your moans grew in volume, and you could feel yourself getting overwhelmed by how fucking good it felt to be fucked by him; moans and groans turned into full-blown hysterical sobbing as you felt your second climax approach. He grunted in frustration as he felt your walls clamp around him once again, convulsing as you gasped for air, his breaths huffing out in small intervals as he tried to get himself to his own high. 

Nothing was said as you threw yourself into him, hugging himself close to you as if he was your lifeline despite your twitching body—you weren’t sure how long you could hold on before you passed out, but you tried your best to stay conscious. He hadn’t cum yet.

It may have frustrated him, but it also frustrated you. Running your hands down his neck to his well-defined jaw, you cradled his skull before attaching your lips onto his neck desperately, practically slobbering over him like a dog as you kissed and sucked at his neck—to which he groaned quietly at. It was a terrible job, you were necking him so sloppily, and he hated himself for grading your performance when really, he should’ve been indulging in it.

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, combined with your small moans that you tried to muffle against his neck, had overwhelmed his senses and he found himself going blank in the mind for less than half a second. 

It was dangerous, to leave yourself vulnerable like that. 

So without another word, sound, or thrust, he hoisted you up and dropped you against the chair; in which you unravelled like a velvet carpet over the soft, plush furniture. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you didn’t want to part from him, you didn’t want it to stop. There, he continued his assault to your already battered cunt, grunts and sharp sighs spilling out his mouth as he concentrated on getting himself to climax. 

“F- fuck, Izuru— Izuru, you’re splitting me- in t- two!” You sobbed out, arms flying up to wipe your tears away that prevented you from seeing the esthetical man above you. With his hair looking like it was flowing behind him, and the thin layer of sweat shining on his skin, you felt your heart beat a little faster— what?

You hadn’t even been able to register the dread of the realization of your feelings, as, without warning, Izuru creamed inside you. His hips stuttered to a stop, and he leaned himself completely over your body that had folded over the back rest of the chair, nose meeting the crook of your mid-chest. “Hhah...” He panted, clammy hands that had been gripping onto your skin tightly, loosened as he took a second before getting up and off you. 

You scrambled up from your position on the chair, legs and pussy numb as you struggled sitting up.“Wait Izuru—!” You called out for him, catching his attention as he cleaned himself up with a convenient towel Junko had left on the table. 

Zipping up the fly of his pants, he stared at you, waiting for you to continue what you had been planning to say as he flattened the creases of his suit. 

“W- were you...” You gulped, flushing as you recalled what you had done earlier. “Were you satisfied?” Your voice had been meek, afraid of his answer for more than one reason. Junko really would show you despair if she found out you didn’t satisfy him. “... I’ll let her know I was.” You sighed in relief, shoulders going slack as you fell back on the chair. You’d live another day.

[slasherhaven]

Can I make a request with the slashers(whoever you would like)who has a s/o who doesn’t know what they do so when they catch them in the act, the s/o reaction to it is scared and they want to or try to leave the slashers. (If that makes since)

The Slashers’ S/O finding out about what they do:

Thomas Hewitt

You had known Thomas for a while now. When he worked at the meat processing plant. He was quiet, kept to himself, but he was sweet. The sweetest man you had met in that place.

The two of you became close, you started dating.

Then the factory closed, most people moved out of town. You were trying to stay but it was getting difficult. 

But the Hewitts stayed and you visited Thomas everyday. Luda May loved you and you loved her, thinking of her as a mother figure.

You loved Thomas and he loved you, more than anything.

You visited everyday, and today it seemed that nobody was home. But the door was open so you just let yourself in, knowing nobody would mind.

You called for Thomas but got no response. But you heard a sound in the basement.

Maybe he was doing some repairs or something down there? You just shrugged and headed down the stairs.

You froze at the bottom of the stairs.

There Thomas was, the man you loved, hacking up a body, reminding you of his time at the factory...but much more disturbing.

The stair creaked as you shifted, catching Thomas’ attention.

He turned, expecting Hoyt or Luda May but he saw you and froze.

“Tommy...”

You looked between him and the body of a young man before coming to your senses, darting back up the stairs and out of the house.

Thomas followed behind you. He wanted to explain...to beg for forgiveness...or do something.

He stopped at the front door, watching you cry as you climbed into your car and drove off.

Hoyt would have told him to go after you, you were a witness, he had to stop you. But Thomas stayed in the door way, tears staining his cheeks as he watched you leave. He let you go.

You were the best thing that ever happened to him, the only person to show him kindness and love. You made him feel like he might actually deserve love, somebody as good as you, but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

And he didn’t blame you for running.

He’s glad you did. He’d miss you more than anything, he would always love you, but a part of him is glad that you ran.

You deserved better than this, better than him.

You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. 

He wasn’t mad at you, just distraught that he didn’t get one more chance to tell you that he loved you, to hear you say that you loved him, before you left.

You decided that this would be a very good time to finally get out of time. For good.

You just didn’t know how Thomas was capable of this. He was always so sweet, kind, and considerate. Despite his size, he was incredibly gentle whenever he touched you, with everything he did. 

You would never have guessed that he could hurt somebody, kill somebody and then...chop them up?

You wiped your tears as you drove home. Planning on grabbing your stuff before heading out just like the rest of the town had. They had it right this whole time...

Bo Sinclair

Keeping someone oblivious to the sinister truth of the town was difficult but Bo would be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to keep you away from it. You were the only person who could calm him down, the only person who had such a soothing effect on him and accepted him for who he was. He didn’t want you to find out.

But it was only matter of time and it happened in the worst way possible, you saw him kill somebody.

He hadn’t even noticed you until he stood up and turned to you, seeing you frozen to the spot, eyes wide in fear.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. We’re alright, you don’t need to freak out” Bo held his hands out to his sides, like he was trying to show you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“Freak out?! Bo you just-you killed him!” you exclaimed, completely horrified.

“There’s so much you don’t know” he told you, making you even more confused. Had he does this before? What else had he been hiding from you?

“Let’s just go back to the house, forget all about this” he suggested, walking up to you.

“...he was a nice kid...even apologised for cussing in front of me...he wouldn’t have hurt you and you-you killed him” you shook your head, taking steps backwards to keep your distance from the man you loved. 

“Come on” Bo muttered, grabbing your arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt, before pulling you back up to the house.

You fought against him, nervous to even be around him.

“What about him? What are you going to do with him?” you asked, glancing back at where the body lay but it was soon out of sight.

“Vincent will deal with it” Bo assured you.

“Vincent? What the hell is going on, Bo?!” you looked back to him with wide eyes. Vincent wouldn’t hurt anyone...right? 

Soon enough, you were back in the house. You wanted to give Bo the benefit of the doubt, maybe the man attacked him? You doubted it but it could have happened...

But those hopes where smashed when Bo told you the truth about everything, seemingly mad at himself.

“You mean...the figures...oh god” the horror on your face make Bo’s stomach tighten in the most unpleasant way. 

You were mortified by the truth, scared of what happened here, scared of him.

“I...I’ve got to go” you mumbled, like you were in a daze, but all you knew was that you needed to get out of the town.

“Oh yeah? Where are you going to go?” Bo snapped slightly, his anger at you wanting to leave him getting the better of him for a moment.

“I’ll figure it out” you didn’t know, you didn’t care. You just had to get away from all of this.

“Y/n, you’re smarter than this. Now that you know about all this...we can’t let you leave” he told you. That was exactly what you were worried about.

“Bo...please...” you pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m not going to hurt you” Bo promised but how could you take his word for anything any more.

“Then let me go” you begged.

“I can’t” he shook his head.

You made a rush for the door but Bo quickly caught you, his heart aching when you screamed out.

But he tried to shush you, tried to sooth you. Holding you against his chest tightly.

Eventually your body stopped fighting and you went limp in his hold, crying into his chest as he held you, one hand stroking your hair.

Everything had changed, nothing would be the same again. You were the one person who hadn’t treated him like some sort of monster or nuisance. You loved him, cared for him, and now you might never do that again. 

But he couldn’t risk you leaving and telling people about the town, he just couldn’t.

Vincent Sinclair 

How he had managed to hide the dark truth about the town from you, Vincent had no idea.

He felt awful for lying to you but you came here during a hard time in your life, found a home here...you had treated him with so much love and kindness.

He loved you so much and you loved him dearly. So, he wanted to keep that a secret from you, to protect you from the awful things he and his brothers did.

But you found out...in the worst way he could imagine. He hadn’t locked the door to his workroom, and you wanted skipped right down the stairs.

You expected to find the man you loved working on his next piece of art, not covering a living human being with wax. By the time you got there, it was too late to stop the process.

“Vincent?” you spoke before you could think. 

Despite being horrified, you couldn’t bring yourself to be completely scared of him. You thought you had known him so well, that he was the gentlest man you had ever met. He was so sweet, gentle, considerate, loving, timid...how could he hurt somebody like this?

Vincent quickly turned to you, completely mortified that you had seen any of this.

You couldn’t stand the sight, it was disgusting and not something you would quickly forget, so you quickly made your way back up the stairs.

Vincent hurried behind you. He wouldn’t grab you and he’d try not to scare you anymore but he couldn’t just let you run off. He hoped that there was some way you could forgive him for all of this...but he knew it was unlikely.

You had just left the house as Bo climbed out of his truck. It only took one look at your scared, teary expression to know what was going on.

It was Bo that physically caught you, asking what was wrong. But you tried to get out of his hold, knowing that whatever was going on here had to involve all of the brothers. 

When Vincent hurried out of the house, seeing you and Bo, he headed over. He placed a hand on your shoulder, batting Bo away from you.

“You better handle this, Vincent. They can’t leave” Bo’s tone darkened slightly before he walked away, heading inside.

You quickly turned back to Vincent, eyes wide and teary.

You felt sick. Seeing that...knowing what Vincent did...what they all do...remembering all the times you had praised Vincent on the figures and how realistic they looks, oh god, you might throw up.

Vincent could see that and instinctively tried to comfort you, his heart stinging when you flinched away.

“...Bo’s not going to let me leave, is he?” you asked, voice cracking slightly, already knowing the answer.

A part of you still believed that Vincent would let you leave, he had never been anything but wonderful to you, you had to believe that at least some of that was real. But Bo had always been more wary of you, more intense, and you knew he was in charge here.

Vincent just shook his head, hating the way that the answer made you cry.

He knew you were scared and you had every right to be, but it still hurt that the thought of staying here with him made you sob like that.

“Please, Vinny” you pleaded.

What were you meant to do? Run? Bo would catch you and there was nowhere to do. There was no way you could make it to the nearest town without Bo finding you and bring you right back.

The look that Vincent gave you was sincerely apologetic and his touch was still gentle as he walked you back into the house, patient with your reluctant steps.

Nothing was going to be the same. Vincent knew what. You might have to stay here but now it will be against your will.

You will still be here but he had already lost you. Vincent knew that.

Lester Sinclair

You had thought Ambrose was a blessing. The three brothers taking you in during your time of need. You moved in properly with Lester a little later when you started dating.

But this town was far from a blessing, you realised that when you discovered the truth about the town, learning about how the brothers got their victims and what they did to them.

As soon as you saw all of this, you hurried back to the home you shared with Lester.

Oh Lester...sweet, energetic, kind Lester...how could he be apart of this?

You packed up a bag of things you’d need but before you made it out the door, Lester arrived him.

His heart broke when he saw you with your bag. You knew...you knew everything and you wanted to leave, you wanted to leave him...

“Y/n, I...I’m sorry” was he apologising for being involved in those people’s deaths, he guessed so. He knew it wouldn’t help but he hoped you could see his sincerity.

“How could you be a part of this, Lester?” you asked, tears staining your cheeks. You just couldn’t picture the man you loved ever purposely hurting an innocent person.

“I...I’m sorry” he wanted to give you an explanation just like you deserved but he didn’t have one, not one that would make things better. So he just apologised again, because he was so sorry that you had to see any of this. “...you’re leaving?” he asked, already knowing the answer and it killed him.

“Will you let me?” you asked, a little nervous about his response. You were terrified of what was happening in Ambrose, you didn’t want to be terrified of him as well.

Lester just nodded, giving you some sense of relief. You were free to leave.

You hung your head, unable to look at the man you loved, as you walked past him.

“Please, Y/n” Lester’s cracking voice made you stop, ready to hear whatever it was that he had to say. “...please just forget about Ambrose...” he pleaded with you. This time you just nodded before walking out the door.

You hoped you would be able to forget about this place but you doubted it.

Lester knew that he had to let you go. He shouldn’t have let you stayed in the first place, he shouldn’t have dragged you into this, he had to let you go because he loved you and thought you deserved better.

But he knew that Bo was going to go crazy about this but Bo wasn’t here right now, he wouldn’t have to find out until sometime tomorrow. By then you would be long gone.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

It was pretty late and Asa was staying late at work again (at least, that was what he told you). You were just about to turn in for the night when there was a knock on the door.

It wasn’t like Asa to forget his keys...and he took the car, so it couldn’t have been him.

You answered the door but nobody was there, just a folder on the doorstep. Asa would have chastised you for picking up a mysterious package and taking into the house but you were curious.

You sat down in the lounge and took a closer look, the notice taped to the front making you pause.

“Do you know where he goes at night?”

Was whoever left this for you talking about Asa? They had to be...

Your mind instantly went to that he was cheating on you. Now, you really didn’t think he would be cheating on you, that he would do that to you, but what else could that note mean?

You opened the folder and pulled out a stack of photos. You gasped at the images, nearly dropping them at first. 

Various images of mutilated bodies, horrific...creations? God, why would anyone send you this and what did it have to do with Asa?

Coming to the last few photos there was a man with the victims, wearing some sort of dark mask.

It wasn’t until the last two photos that you knew without a doubt what all of this was about. The last photos showed the man removing his mask, revealing the face of the man you loved.

He made these...things? With body parts of people he...murdered? How could he do something so awful?

You threw the photos down onto the coffee table, wiping your tears and trying to not throw up your dinner. Asa hurt these people, killed them and made monstrous creations...and you had absolutely no idea...

You had to get out of here before he came home...

You jumped to your feet and headed for the bedroom. You needed to pack some belongings and leave, you were worried about what he would do when he found out that you knew. Even if you still couldn’t fully believe it.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made you pause.

Asa was home. 

You heard the front door open and close. The lights were on, he knew you were still awake, so he called for you.

You panicked, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you locked the bedroom door.

Asa’s brow furrowed when he got no response from you but he paused when he walked into the lounge, seeing the photos scattered over the table. Who had sent these to you? He was going to kill them...

He called your name again but it only made you cry harder.

He walked up the stairs and towards the bedroom door, attempting to open it but finding it locked.

“Y/n. Open the door” he ordered, surprisingly gentle. “I know what you saw, let me explain everything to you.”

You had nowhere to go, you were locked in the bedroom. The only way out was through that door and Asa was on the other side.

“Did-did you do it?” you asked. You just needed him to give you an answer that proved those images wrong, to give you an explanation. You needed him to convince you that he hadn’t done those things.

Both of you were standing on either side of the door now, talking through the wood. 

“You saw those photos. You know it was me. I’m not going to insult you by lying to you, you wouldn’t really believe me anyway” he sounded so calm. Too calm. It wasn’t the voice of somebody who’s partner just found out they were a serial killer.

“...why?” you had no idea why you asked that question. It didn’t matter, in the end. But a part of you needed to know why the man you loved would do something so vile.

“I don’t think I have a satisfying answer to that question” was his answer. He was right, that wasn’t what you wanted to hear at all. Though, you didn’t really know what you wanted to hear.

“...what now?” you felt safe behind this door. Even if you knew that you couldn’t stay behind it forever.

“I can’t let you go. Not knowing what you know, you know that” his calmness was more unsettling than the images...how could he be so calm about this?!

“I-I won’t tell anyone” you promised.

“Y/n, you know I can’t risk that” he was right and even you knew that.

“...please” you pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you just have to stay. I promise you’ll be okay, with me” Asa sounded convincing and you wanted to believe him but how could you when you found out that he had been hiding so much from you?

“Asa...”

“Open the door” he ordered again.

You didn’t. You fell asleep eventually, waking up to the door still locked. You thought that maybe Asa had given up but you knew that wasn’t like him. You whispered his name through the door and he was quick to respond. You weren’t getting out of this room without running straight into Asa.

That’s when you realised that you weren’t leaving. Asa couldn’t let you go.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse has plenty of enemies, not that you know that, and it was one of those enemies that decided that the best way to get to him was through you.

You were home alone, Jesse away on a business trip, when somebody rang the doorbell.

When you answered the door, nobody was there. Just a box set on the doorstep. 

You were careful, you looked around, gently opened the box but only saw videotapes. Weird. 

You took the box inside and took a closer look. There were plenty of videotapes, the box full. Each one was labelled by a state, a town, a month. You didn’t know what any of that meant.

So, like an idiot, you played a tape.

You were horrified. The video was of a young woman being murdered gruesomely. 

Why would anyone send you a box of snuff films? Who could be so disturbed. 

And something in your gut told you that these were real.

You were just about to turn it off, sick to your stomach, about to call the police. About to message Jesse about this awful thing.

But then a man walked into frame. Bald, tall, fitted black suit, and wearing a chrome skull mask. Something so...unsettlingly familiar. 

It couldn’t be...it just couldn’t be your Jesse... 

But it was and you knew it. You turned off the video, ejecting the tape and throwing it to the ground, tears streaming down your face.

All these tapes...proof of the horrific, sadistic murders that the man you loved had committed.

The front door opening and closing made you jump...

You turned and came face to face with the man.

He was about to sign a greeting as he approached you but stopped when he saw your terrified, tear stained face.

He took in your expression for glancing down at the box of tapes, noticing the one you had thrown down and broken...how did you get those tapes? Of course, he knew what they were instantly.

He was going to find out who gave you these and he was going to make sure they regretted it.

“Jesse...please tell me these aren’t real...that, that isn’t you” you pleaded with him, even if you knew the truth now. He didn’t respond, just stared at the box of tapes. “They’re-they’re all yours?...all you?” you asked.

You let out a broken sob when he nodded. There was no point lying now, you knew, it was over.

How could the man you loved do these things? He had always be so wonderful, so perfect, if you didn’t have all this evidence, you wouldn’t have believed it.

“...are you going to hurt me?” you asked and he shook his head. 

God, you wanted so badly to believe him but after seeing what he was capable of...you just didn’t know anymore.

“How could you do those things, Jesse?” this was the man you wanted to marry...but you didn’t know him at all.

He took a step towards you but you took one back. You were scared of him...and that was the last thing he ever wanted.

‘I’m not going to hurt you’ he signed. ‘...I’m sorry...’ he apologised because that’s all he could do. There was no explanation he could give you, no gift or gesture that would earn your forgiveness, there was nothing he could do to make this right. All he could do was give you a weak apologise. 

“...you’re...I don’t know you, you’re not my Jesse...I...” he stepped towards you again but you took five steps back this time.

The images on those tapes flashed through your mind. Those women, the way he killed them...how could he ever do something like that and come home to you. To touch you, to love you. You were disgusted with him and yourself.

It must have been the adrenaline in your body but you finally took action, not bothering to grab your coat as you hurried past him and towards the front door.

You gasped when he caught your arm, looking up at him with fearful eyes. His grip was firm but he was true to his word, he wasn’t hurting you.

“I’m leaving, Jesse” you told him as firmly as you could, voice faltering.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Still holding you as he typed something.

He turned the screen to you so that you could read it. 

‘NO POLICE’

What where you supposed to do. Whatever it took to get out of here.

So, you nodded.

He turned the phone back to himself, typing something new and showing it to you again.

‘I LOVE YOU’

You let out another sob and he released your arm.

You left the house, no knowing where exactly you were going. A friends house? The police station? You didn’t know.

All you did know was that more gifts kept arriving expect these were clothes, jewellery, just stacks of cash. Was Jesse apologising, trying to win you back, pay you off, buy your silence, or just making sure you’re alright? You didn’t know.

Obviously, you left Jesse but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. He still watched over you, made sure you had the money you needed to live a good life.

Jesse sincerely hoped you would keep your promise of not going to the police. If you didn’t, he could just let you go, keep you on your feet. But if you went to the police...he would have to deal with it one way or another.

Otis Driftwood

Otis had met you in a bar, it was that simple. The two of you hit it off like he had never done with somebody before. He never hid any part of himself (other than the crimes he’s committed) and you still seemed interested in him.

You knew that he and his family were...beyond odd, but you didn’t know that they hurt people. So you continued to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You dated. You loved him and he loved you.

You had gone to the Firefly residence and let yourself in like you usually did. You normally planned a time to meet with Otis but you decided that you just needed to see him now.

You called out to him but no response came, nobody was here but the door was unlocked...

You were just going to wait or come back later but then you heard something bang in the basement.

You had never been down there before, you never had a reason or desire too but if somebody was down there, maybe they could tell you when Otis would be back. Or maybe it was Otis!

So you headed down the stairs and into the basement.

“Oh my God...” you completely froze when you stepped into the room.

People, held in cages, were cowering together, bloody and beaten. They begged for mercy, for your help. But what you were staring at was Otis, covered in blood. He had turned to you, surprise on his face and knife in his hand.

Otis knew it was only a matter of time, the family didn’t hide their true nature very well. He just didn’t think it would be now, he wanted longer with you. Because he knew that as soon as you found out, you’d be gone.

You ran. You had that much sense.

You ran up the stairs, through the house, and out the front door, with Otis right behind you.

You always knew he was strange, had an interested in morbid things, but you never would have guessed sadistic killer. Who would just assume that?!

You never worried that he would hurt you, but now you did.

Once you got a few feet from the house, you had to come to a stop. Even if your whole body was telling you to keep running but you curled over and threw up.

Those poor people...all the gore in that basement...on Otis...what had he done and how many people had he done it too?

“Y/n-” Otis’ voice coming from behind you made you snap back up, turning to him but stepping backwards.

“Get away from me” you were terrified and disgusted, he could see it on your face.

“I would never hurt you. You know that” Otis assured you, while he stood there splattered in somebody else’s blood. It would have been comical to somebody with a fucked up sense of humour.

“...I don’t...” you shook your head, your answer quiet.

“’course you do. Have I ever hurt you before?” he asked but that didn’t matter anymore.

“You hurt those people!” you remined him. 

Maybe if you knew the details of his other crimes, you wouldn’t have been able to snap at him so easily. You definitely would throw up again, that’s for sure.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Baby’s cheerful voice caught the attention of both of you. “Oh shit...they found out, didn’t they?” she asked, still smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Go inside, Baby” Otis ordered sternly.

“Aw don’t worry, hun. Otis ain’t gonna hurt ya, he loves ya!” Baby assured you.

“I’ve got to go...” you mumbled, turning and making your escape again.

“Are they going to talk, Otis?” Baby asked her brother, both of them knowing they can’t let you go to the police or anything.

“I have it handled” Otis huffed before following after you, making Baby scoff. 

Well...you weren’t dead, but your relationship with the family was far from over. Otis couldn’t just let you go around running your mouth about them but he didn’t want to hurt you either. 

Hopefully, the two of you can figure something out once you’ve calmed down...

[may-fanfic]

A Debt 

summary: nat is the leader of one of the most deadly mobs in town but when she takes you to be her next victim, she has second thoughts.

warnings: kidnapping, mob, mentions of murder and death, mob!nat

pairing: mob!natasha x reader

rating: 18+

word count: 1,838

a/n : sorry im a whore for cliffhangers, hope you enjoy and please do tell me if you want a part 2 

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

masterlist

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all you could see was black when the cloth had been tugged over your face and it muffled your screams. you could hear as the deep voices talked but you couldn’t decipher where they had been coming from. you knew that the person behind you was strong enough to keep you in place but that didn’t stop you from trying your hardest to escape but of course to no avail and quickly you had been shoved into the car, heading god knows where.

all the questions you had glowing floating around in your head had been quickly answered when you were ushered into somewhere before someone had guided you to a chair and quickly shoved you down and in a second the cloth that was covering your eyes was ripped off.

“tie her hands.” and in seconds your hands had been zip-tied to the chair. before you could even adjust your eyes to the bright lights, a girl stood in your view. it had all happened so fast, you had just wanted to go home and sleep off the day but instead you had been in some random house and had no idea what you had done wrong.

your lip quivered lightly but you tried your hardest to straighten out your expressions. “she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” a man’s voice spoke up from behind the woman and she was quick to roll her eyes.

your eyes wandered around the neat house, there had been nothing insight for you to break free, and honestly, you hadn’t even known how you could escape this so instead you met the woman’s gaze. “hello dear.” her voice was raspy and her accent deep, despite the circumstances, it sent spines down your spine. you couldn’t find your words as tears clouded your eyes, you tried your hardest to stop them but they rolled down your cheeks freely and the woman had pouted down at you.

“darling this is nothing personal, strictly business.” you sniffled lightly, your gaze snapping down to the ground. “does she not speak?” a man’s voice snapped causing you to jump lightly. the woman sucked her teeth before yelling at him in a different language.

“why me?” your voice had come out shaky and hoarse but they were just been glad that you were talking. the woman pulled out a chair so she could sit directly in front of you, her gaze never looking hers. “your father is one of that most wealthy men out there...” she paused for a moment, trying to word her reasoning properly. “and we figured, if we had his precious daughter, he would quickly cut us a nice check.” your eyebrows knitted together, feeling yourself begin to shake. “what happens if he doesn’t?” your question had sat in the air for a while before a man from behind the woman spoke up. “you die.”

the call to your father had been short as expected and it seemed to leave everyone in shock. you hadn’t expected much from the man, he had always been selfish and when they mentioned their price. he was quick to tell them that he didn’t have that kind of money to spare and hung up the call. so now Natasha had sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the phone that was in her hand.

“so how are you gonna kill me?” your voice had come off much colder this time and it left Natasha speechless for a moment. “he has 48 hours.” the woman uttered and you let out a gentle breath, already accepting your fate.

——- ——- Natasha was the one in charge of keeping an eye on you after all she was the leader and if she was honest, she never trusted her gang much especially when it came to looking after you. she watched as you shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair, trying to lean your head back to get any form of rest but to no avail. Natasha had never really had to wait out an entire 48 hours with one of her victims, their families had always come through and the transaction would be over 5 hours tops but now she was forced to stare at you, feeling a sense of pain for you.

she had never been as heartless as she seemed, of course, she was trained well enough not to get her feelings involved but even her chest burned at the coldness of your father. how could anyone treat their child like that? “I don’t know how you expect me to sleep here all day.” your voice had come off much more confident than before and it made the woman perked up quickly.

she pushed herself up moving to stand directly in front of you, fishing a pocket knife, you could flinch away causing Natasha to suck her teeth. “relax.” she muttered, quickly cutting the zip tie and letting your hands go free. “don’t you dare try anything,” she uttered before gripping your forearms and tugging you through the large house with her before you were pushed into a room.

the bed looked neatly made and the pillows were fresh, the room was painted white and the room reeked of fresh paint. you wondered how many other times the woman did this exact thing with other people. Natasha gave you a gentle shove towards the bed and you didn’t hesitate to take a seat, feeling the soft mattress under you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, toying with your fingers as the girl took a seat on a chair in front of the bed. she nodded quickly, the woman had not taken a proper look at you since she had met you and she secretly wished she had met you under different conditions. “are you gonna kill me?” you asked the woman lightly causing her frown to deepen. “you’ll know when we cross that bridge.”

“I’m not afraid to die,” you uttered out to the woman causing her eyes to meet yours for a moment. “I just thought it’d end differently.” you rambled watching as she cocked her head to the side. “why are you so sure you’ll die?”

“you don’t know my father.” she hadn’t known how to reply to that. there had been some sort of awkwardness in the air and Natasha wished she could just run away from it cause it made her cringe so deeply.

“no one coming to help me.” her heart burned from your statement, she needed you to stop talking before she found herself comforting you. she felt choked up, she knew if anyone knew how was feeling, she’d lose all her respect but dear god did she pity you right now and it was all her fault that you had even been put in this situation. why couldn’t she had just targeted someone else?

you took her silence as a sign that she had enough of your talking so you kicked off your shoes and settled into the soft bed, wrapping yourself in the fresh blanket.

Natasha watched as you drifted off to sleep, her thoughts had been running miles per minute. if Natasha had to kill you because of your selfish father then she would never be able to live with herself. that had been the bottom line and Natasha knew she could never do that.

Natasha felt foolish, she had never thought twice about having to kill someone so why had it been so hard for her to even imagine having to hurt you? Natasha rose from the chair, leaving you to sleep. she had been quick to make a call, feeling her heart pounding with anticipation. she knew tony would know what to do, he had always been wise. “Natasha, hey,” he spoke softly causing the girl to let out a gentle sigh.

“I need your help, tony.”

fear settled at the bottom of your heart when men rushed into the room. you had jumped awake, trying your hardest to fight off the men that had been trying to grab you but everything had seemed to die down when the man stuck a needle into your arm and in seconds your eyes fluttered closed and your body had grown leap. “just take her home.” tony let out a soft sigh before nodding slowly. “I got you, kid.”

the next time your eyes had fluttered open, you had been in the safely of your own home and your bed. it had always felt like a fever dream, you had been confused but overall you were just be relieved that it was over.

—— as much as Natasha wanted to forget that you even existed, her mind had often  raced back to you. she had wondered what you had been up to if you were okay. she found herself outside your apartment almost every night making sure you got in alright. she wanted to run up to you each time she saw you but instead, she would grip her steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles would turn white.

it had taken her a couple of weeks to musks up the courage to let herself into your apartment, it had been unlocked much to her surprise and she took a seat on one of the love seats. she knew your schedule and she knew that you should be home any minute but she still felt her heart pounding when she heard the doorknob turn and when you entered, her breath had became caught in her throat.

you hadn’t seemed shocked that she was there, it was almost as if you had been expecting her. she watched carefully as you set down your purse and keys. “your door was unlocked.” Natasha finally spoke up, gripping at the seat arms. “I know.” you muttered with a gentle laugh. “why have you been watching me?” you asked softly, crossing your arms and staring down the woman.

she couldn’t help the warm blush that appeared on her cheeks before she grinned lightly. she hadn’t even known what she could say in this situation but she had quickly gotten up from the couch, inching her way over to you. “why was your door unlocked?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side. you hummed lightly, shaking your head “I asked you first.”

“I wanted to see you.” her boldness made your cheeks turn a bright pink and Natasha quickly took notice. “and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” a sweet smile formed on her plump lips before she continued.

“why was your door unlocked?” she asked again, feeling a sense of accomplishment when you stumbled over your words, leaning against the wall  as she stepped even closer to you. “I wanted to see you too.” she hummed lightly, bringing her hand up to your cheek, caressing your cheekbone softly. Natasha leaned down to meet your lips but you quickly turned your face.

“I need you to do something for me.”

[prianya]

Yeah so- Sorry I am back I WAS going to fall asleep but-

When you were kid, the folklore and myths were ones that you held dear to your heart. Although there was one that stuck out to you, one that you might have considered....

A Favorite.

Lady Death and Her Angel.

When people depict death, it cruel and ruthless yet... Its goddess is described as kind and gentle. Lady Death had many names for her. Goddess of Death, Death, and of course Lady Death. Once she was able to wander the land, explore humanity. It was a fickle thing to a goddess who was set to live until enternity.

She watched kingdoms rise and fall, she saw some of the most cruel of deaths.

Of course as she wanders she has a kingdom of her own. The Afterlife. She was said to always switch between the lands managing the Afterlife, yet still exploring the wonders of the world until...

A man came.

He was said to have the goddess wrapped around his finger. So much so that she had abandoned her duties as the goddess to live as a human.

Of course the Gods were not happy with that.

Apparently there were gods that were even above death. Some call them creation, or the void. When they found out about this predictiment the Goddess of Death was punished.

Her sentence was to manage the Afterlife, not aloud to leave the bounds of her land. A powerful goddess reduced to a simple ruler. The Gods didn't hesitate to carry out their punishment.

Voices taunted the Goddess coming as a form of crows. Sooner or later they soon taunted the man. Lady Death, feeling herself being pulled by guilt everytime she would see the her Love suffer. Until she left.

This particular tale had always been a favorite, the sheer beauty of their romance appealing to you even after the years it had been since you first heard it. You held it close, one of few tales you could recite by heart. The story, while tragic, was lovely, an ode to a certain tenderness reserved for those you love dearly.

The two main characters, a young, and quite bright adventurer, and a goddess, were strikingly different in upbringing, yet their love was beautiful. The sheer absurdity of circumstance adding to the fable's allure. They were made for eachother, a pair that felt so natural you would never imagine them separate. Years turned to decades together, a set of lovers withstanding the tests of time. Their downfall was inevitable, at that point. The void gods discovered her absence, and quickly sought to correct it.

As a sort of balancing act, the void gods prevented the adventurer's death to prevent them from being reunited. He was cursed to walk the world endlessly, never settling. It was an inconvenience, a way to keep her from finding him.

She managed her kingdom, overseeing the influx of the dead's souls and searching their macabre faces for the likeness of her lover. She grew restless after decades of her punishment, begging the void to let her see her lover, if once. They relented, gifting her sight through crows.

While she was happy with the crows, he was decidedly not. The crows followed him, gathering in massive murders wherever he travelled. The lingering crows caused fear within communities he visited, causing him to be outcasted more than he was. They were seen as an omen, a sign of misfortune hanging heavy over him. The crows were also unfortunately paired with blooms of Black Dahlias on the band of his hat.

The myth was longer, of course, but not by much. It ended suddenly, with only a simple sentence drawing the fable to a close. You researched it whenever you went to another server, checking out books and searching for the continuation of the story. The only volume you had found that continued it was an unfaithful translation of the myth in a bigger collection, the name of the author inside the cover being faded beyond comprehension. The only letter you could pull from it was the letter 'T', written in faded gold ink in a flowing and ornate script.

The symbolism in the story, with the crows and the flowers, had been what hooked you. Flower language had been one of your mother's passions, and she had endowed you with knowledge of their meanings. The same year you had first heard the story, you begged your mother to plant the Dahlias. You returned every year after you had left, for the beginning of spring and to help your mothers tend to the flower garden.

Every year, you spotted crows in the forest near your childhood home, their eyes piercing through the shade of the trees. The birds were unerving, their usual loud shrieks reduced to silence. They sat and watched as you quietly tended to the flowers, a large sunhat with black dahlias pinned to it sat upon your head.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

How about 32 on the kiss prompts? 😘

heheheeheh hi again, i love that you’re sending me these, it really gets my words flowing for one shots/chapters! hope this lives up to the request and feel free to send as many as you want!

kissing prompt #32: A breathy “kiss me”

pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner

warnings: a little bit of angst, blood/gun mentions, kissing

word count: 1.2k

You stare into space, completely frozen in terror as you think about your options right now. They were simple: tell him or don’t. Yet here you are, struggling.

So far, you were convinced that no one but Hotch knew about your crush on him and vice versa. For the two of you it was in the subtle things; fixing the other’s coffee just right, forcing the other to get some air when their head was too cloudy to think straight, or walking shoulder to shoulder to your cars when you both stayed too late. It was in the way he smiled at you every time it was just the two of you in a room. How he asked about you and your background though he never shared it with anyone else on the team. Hotch was easy to talk to, you’d learned quickly after being intimidated by him through all your rounds of interviews.

He was kind, gentle and respectful. He was everything you wanted but refused to let yourself have.

Hotch knew this. He knew that there was something unspoken between the two of you. You’d been on the team for 2 years and he was the one that knew the most about you, and he wanted to know more. He couldn’t control himself when you were together, he had to ask questions, he had to know you. He’d been unsure for a while, wondering if you were just being kind to an old man like him.

You were young and bright and sweet. You were everything he wanted but refused to let himself have.

Unbeknownst to you he was weighing his options too, adrenaline and fear coursing through his body. He didn’t want to be the one to lead swat into the building, but it was what the unsub had demanded. He was the boss, he had to do what was right. Even if it meant walking into this building and never seeing you again.

The worst part is you know that no matter what you say or do it won’t change anything. So when the team finally decides on a route for him to enter the small rural school where 6 kids are held hostage by an unsub with a semiautomatic weapon, you only say one thing. Moving closer to him, you stand shoulder to shoulder like you would if he was walking you to your car late at night. It's close enough for you to smell his deep, woodsy cologne that’s become a sort of calm for you as you’ve worked together.

“Are you sure you have to do this, Aaron?” You try to keep your voice level but it breaks when you say his name.

God he didn’t want to do this. He knew that you both were hurting because of this, especially because if something happened you would never truly know how he felt about you.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more unsure in my life.” He whispers sincerely as he straps his vest on.

Before either of you can say anything else Morgan comes back to run through backup plans with Hotch. It takes everything in you to not yell at Hotch, to tell him to stay with you. To stay for you. But instead you slip away as he and Morgan talk, going to dawn your own vest and get your head in the game for the worst case scenario.

Watching him walk into the building will stay at the top of the list of most dreadful things you've ever seen for the rest of your life. Everyone is in place, ready to assist him and the swat going in but when you hear multiple unidentified weapons go off unlike everyone else you're stuck in place, your bones as heavy as stone.

Have you lost him? Lost him before you ever even got a taste of him. Before you got to feel how his hand would fit in yours. How his hair would feel against your fingers. His lips against yours. Had you?

It takes what feels like centuries to answer that question. Agents, officers, swat and paramedics alike all swarm around you and even though you're anchored into place your eyes are searching. Searching just to see his brown eyes full of life just one last time if that’s all you could get.

“Y/n/n!”

His voice. You take off immediately in its direction, running as fast as you can as you push through people, your heart pounding in your chest, your lungs rapidly filling and emptying as you try to find him as quickly as possible. When your eyes meet you can feel the sense of relief you share but you don’t stop running towards him even when you see that he has a small cut on his forehead and a flesh wound on his arm, because he’s still alive and you had to be near him.

He has the same idea because as soon as your in arms reach he engulfs you in a hug that you return, burying his nose into your hair and kissing it a multitude of times.

Looking up at him, you’re still out of breath from running but a breathy, “Kiss me,” falls from your lips.

There is no hesitation on his part. His head dips down, his lips capturing yours greedily. He grips you with a bruising strength, as if you can’t get closer to him but you willingly melt into him, silently agreeing that even though you’re flush against each other that there’s still too much space. You’re attacking him, your teeth and tongue clashing with his. You wanted to devour him, to explore every part of him in this moment but kissing him this fiercely would have to do for now. Both completely breathless, he pulls away, his heavy breaths mingling with yours as you both try to return to a normal rhythm.

“For a second I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I know.”

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He admits, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately.

“God, me too, baby.” You rest your forehead against his, not caring about the blood from his cut.

“Baby.” He tests the word out, a timid grin spreading across his features.

“Mhmm, my baby. Mine.” You draw out the last word for emphasis and he nods eagerly in agreement.

“Yes, whatever you say. Yours.”

The team is watching through the hoards of people, everyone’s mouth ajar in complete and utter shock. Everyone except the ever observant David Rossi, who’s been wondering for months now when the two of you would pull your heads out of your asses and finally give it a go.

“Did ya’ll see that coming?” Morgan asks the rest of the team, and like before, everyone but Rossi shakes their heads.

“You didn’t? It was right in front of all of you.” Rossi quirks up an eyebrow and everyone laughs.

“We’ve really gotta brush on my skills.” Emily quips before turning back to watch you and Hotch hold each other in disbelief.

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @ssahotchie, @mrsh0tchner, @azenpal, @disgruntledchowchow, @chelseyjoyce, @hotchwhore15, @hotforhotchner11, @ssamorganhotchner, @choppa-style, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @zetasaturno99, @averyhotchner

[ohheyitsokay]

Hello!!! I have come with a soulmate au request: could you write one with Benny Miller, where the voice inside your head is yoursoulmates voice. And he's just like "omg! You're the one with the beautiful voice!"

Everyone, say thank you to @fangirl-316 for being the very first person on my taglist, and thus one of the main reasons I'm still writing.

My dear, please consider this fic a very small portion of my thank you, for how far that encouragement went.

warnings: so much fluff it's not even funny

>>

soulmate requests

<<

You and your soulmate lead quite different lives - you only heard his voice saying your thoughts every couple of days at first. It was supposed to happen when you had a thought that could've been one of theirs, normally something simple about needing to get groceries or hoping for rain.

But, the majority of thoughts the two of you shared were "Ouch." A deep, warm voice would boom through your mind, filling it like broth in a bowl on a cold day - comforting, but confusing. It made you wonder if your soulmate was clumsy, like you, or if he got himself into trouble.

He didn't share your complaints, though, and that simple realization bloomed into a full, indulgent daydream. If he got hurt, but didn't complain... maybe you're soulmate was strong, in all the good, selfless ways that heroes were. The daydream fit, and stuck, and it became your mission mission learn more about him whenever you could

It didn't take you long to learn how kind he was, after all. "No worries," he'd say, and you could almost hear his smile, or "I've got you."

And when you were being your most kind, your most thoughtful, you heard him more than ever. It was sweet, inspiring, his unintentional little encouragement to help your neighbors or lighten the mood.

So one day, deep in your longing to meet the one who's voice was rich as a hot meal from a diner, you took a risk.

He made you feel adventurous, grand, his voice in your mind, as he encouraged the world to do it's worst. The ferocity in which his tone reinforced your moments of confidance were like shots of caffeine in your bloodstream. You were certain he was a protector, a - a fighter.

For him.

Your cousin had become interested in a professional fighting ring by a girl at her gym, and had been begging you to come with. So you took the risk, and allowed yourself to be dragged into a chaotic room full of sweaty boddies and goading cheers.

People were yelling to talk to each other, a triumphant man was soaking in adoration, and your feet stuck to the floor.

The next fight had already started, and as you squeezed into a place you could see, your heart stopped. Above you, solid legs, a bare chest heaving with deep breaths, broad shoulders. From your angle, you could see half a grin, and one of the most beautiful blue eyes you'd ever seen.

Benjamin - Benny - Miller, someone said.

Then he was moving, fuid and fast, like he was animated, and you watched, enraptured. You barely processed his opponent, just a man in contrasting colors, as you stared. The noise became an afterthought, and the back of your mind registered your cousin moving away to search for her friend.

Still you couldn't move, you were planted, still as a statue as your heart began to beat again, pouting unevenly as you watched.

Was it normal? To be filled with liquid fire and to hope desperately for a fighter's safety and triumph at the same time?

It was just.... adrenaline. It was because you were new to this. Everyone around you probably felt as intensely as you did about every thud of gloves against skin, at one point in their lives, anyway.

The noise came back in full, as you were reminded how out of place you were.

"You want anything, honey?" The waitress had pity in her eyes.

A gloved fist came in contact with a perfect jaw.

Ouch.

His voice, as always.

"No, thank you." You didn't even look at her, wondering and watching as your injured hero smiled to himself a little bit.

-

"I don't believe you," you stared suspiciously.

"No, she's telling the truth." Looking between your cousin and her friend, you felt your fight or flight response kick in.

"I just feel silly." Involuntarily, you backed away. They were insisting you push through the sweaty crowd, accross the sticky floor, to talk to him. They promised it was normal. "I wouldn't wouldn't know what to say."

They both looked at each other, and your cousin shrugged. It was true - as desperately as you wanted to encourage him, you'd barely made a peep during the fight. Instead you stared, almost forgetting to breathe, and eyes almost drying out as you ignored the insitict to blink, least you miss a single second. Even after your embarrassment reared it's head, you'd felt strange - both invisible and like you were alone in the crowd, your willpower alone his encouragement. Cheering felt impossible, your tongue was dry in your mouth as you thought wishes into the universe. Prayers, for him or to him, you weren't quite sure.

Relenting, your cousin gave you a more gentle look, before saying changing the topic. It emboldened you, her kindness, as your soulmate said, "Thank you," to her for you, and you slipped away. The fighter deserved a lite of your praise, after all. Looking in the blue of his eyes seemed impossible, but you found the waitress from before.

So what could you say, now that he was surrounded by friends and fans, clapping the smooth of his shoulder and ruffling his seemingly silken hair?

Meekly you shook your head, trying not to look at him from across the room.

"Hey, hun, how can I help you?" She paused, curious and fair, a testament to the establishment.

"Would you..." you fidgeted. The request felt silly, like kids in a school yard, whispering telephone crushes.

"Just do it, talk to her."

"I just wanted to ask if - "

"Oh my God," a deep voice, from directly behind you. It cut through the chatter and shouts of the crowd, surprised and insistent. The waitress cocked an eyebrow and you turned, following her gaze.

"You're the one with the beautiful voice!"

Benjamin Miller was standing, close, the crowd behind him still marked from his rapid path to you. His eyes were wide, staring into yours like he wasn't sure if you were real.

Staring back, you panicked, wondering when he had even heard you before you registered.

His voice -

He was hugging you. Muscles and fat squishing alike, bones near creaking, you never wanted him to let go. He had changed, wearing soft clothes that smelled like sunshine, and his hands were pressing you against his bruises and God, you didn't want him to let go.

It could've been four seconds, it could've been four thousand before your feet felt like they were on solid ground.

"I knew when I saw you," his voice was loud, excited, before he seemed to realize he was still close, gripping you tightly. Jumping back, his hands ran over his face, and through his hair.

"Sorry I just -" suddenly, he looked almost shy, doubt flooding his eyes, the fear that he wasn't yours at the forefront of his mind.

"Hi," you said, grabbing one of his hands before it could stray out of reach. The nervousness from before seemed offensive, suddenly, because you knew him. This was the man who lived and breathed and thought encouragement and honesty and laughter.

You said your name, and when you half-laughed, giddy with bravery, he couldn't help but relax. "You're my soulmate," you said, more certain than you had ever been.

His own doubts abandoned, a warm hand wrapped around your neck, tiliting your face closer to his.

It was perfect, how he was laughing now, too, just as earnest and brave as you always knew he would be.

"Nice to meet you."

<<

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

[thestarrynightslover]

You and Me

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,649

Warnings: Angsttt, slight swearing, mentions of harassment and violence (all show-like, tho).

Summary: Jay and (y/n) were trying to navigate their secret workplace romance when an unexpected event agitates their feelings about it.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: No, I am not very sure of what exactly this is, sorry! I think it turned out kinda messy but, being honest, I just really wanted to write their interactions within that kind of angst! 

Anyways, I hope this isn’t too bad and I am very sorry about dropping this kind of imagine instead of something good enough to help us heal from the finales.  

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

It had been about 20 minutes since you finally convinced Kevin that you were okay and that he should go home when you heard someone knock on the door. You knew it was him. It had to be him. You needed it to be him. So you quickly moved to open, after checking the peephole. As soon as there was a hint of an opening, you felt Jay’s arms around you, his breath on your neck, and his voice cracking with concern.

"Oh my God, baby, I was so worried about you!" He sounded absolutely desperate, his arms enveloping you in just the way your own despair required him to.

"I know, I know... I just... I-" You tried to let out but couldn't continue because you'd started sobbing. Around Jay, it was inevitable for you to put your walls down. And, almost as soon as your tears started to fall, your boyfriend brought you even closer; holding you tightly by the waist with one arm, the other stroking your hair.

"Shh, it's gonna be okay, princess. You're okay now." He told you, but the truth was he wanted to cry as well. Not only had those past days been pure agony for him — a lonely agony —, but, also, because, even with you like that, you both knew that Jay wouldn't be able to keep a promise to stay the night if he got a call from work. Because no one knew that he needed to stay by your side. That you needed him there. Because no one knew how much all of that was hurting him, too. Because no one knew anything.

"I'm just- I just came so- so close this time, you know?" You tried to let him in on how you were feeling, pulling away a little so you could see his face better.

"I know." He replied, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "And it all happened so suddenly, I felt so stupid, powerless..." Jay confessed, as he remembered the operation that’d gotten you abducted, leaving the entire team with no clue on how it happened. 

But, for your boyfriend, it was pretty clear, though: the two of you were covering one side of the building and, afraid you might get upset with him for hovering, he didn’t have your back the way he should have. It was his fault that it all happened to you.

"Jay... That wasn't your fault, okay?” You stated firmly, as if you knew exactly what he was thinking. “None of us could've guessed that it would turn into something that, um, bad..." You said, not being able to stop the shiver that ran through your body, which made Jay go back to holding you close.

"Still, I should have done a better job at protecting you-" He started to mutter quietly in your hair, but you stopped him with a disapproving look.

"Stop, okay? Just stop! I'm a cop too, I have been a cop for about the same time that you have and I never needed or had a boyfriend protecting me in some special manner on the job!" He just stared at you, shock and hurt in his eyes.

"I know that, okay? I do know that." He told you quickly, as his hands went up from your sides, in a sign of surrender. "And I'm sorry if it came across as if I thought any differently. I'm sorry, baby. It's just that-" He paused for a moment, looking so hurt while sighing deeply, "It was really hard to not know what was going on with you, even after you went to the hospital... I mean they called Kevin to go stay with you in the hospital!" Another sigh, this time, an annoyed one. "And, seeing that, I guess that I just- I just wished that none of it had happened?"

"Jay..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying this right now. I'm making this about me, when it's actually about you, geez." He reprehended himself while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no! It's okay. Because this is about you, too. And I'm glad you're telling me how you feel." Hearing that, he just looked at you and wondered about how on Earth he had managed to snatch someone like you. "First things first: what happened to me wasn't your fault. I don’t say this often but: as great a partner as Kevin is, I love working by your side. And, I do it without any fear or concern because I know you'll have my back. One hundred percent." You assured him while giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "now, the second thing: you do know that they only called Kevin because he is my partner, right?"

"I, uh, I do know that," yet another sigh.

"Okay, Jay. I love you and I really need you right now. But, if you don't stop sighing and just say what you wanna say already, I will kick you out of here." At that, he couldn't help but to let out a soft chuckle. God, you loved his smile.

"I don't wanna upset you with this. Especially now. But, I guess, I just would have liked to be the one they called." Seeing the instant frown you made, he clarified: "Not as your partner. As your boyfriend."

You had to admit that, even though you knew going public with your relationship was something Jay thought a lot about, you weren't expecting him to say that at all. Not at that moment, at least. And, being the not-so-calm person you were, the conversation quickly took a turn.

"What the hell? I just got back from the worst moment of my life and you wanna use that- pry on that to pressure me into going public?" God, that was harsh. You knew as soon as the words left your mouth. You regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth. But you didn't dare to open it again, as you watched his face go from hurt to annoyance and then a hint of anger.

"You're kidding, right?" You didn't answer. "Please, tell me you're kidding?"

"Babe, I'm-"

"You're what? You're sorry? Because, man, that shit you just said? That hurt!" He stood there in silence for a moment before continuing: "do you have any idea of what these past days were like for me? You think I'm bringing this up now just because I wanna shout to everyone that you're my girlfriend? Claim you as mine or whatever bullshit reason you think I have for wanting to go public?” You still couldn’t say anything, so he went on, “well, it's not any of that. I'm talking about this because you were missing for two entire fucking days that felt like forever to me, but I couldn't tell anyone how I'd die if anything happened to you because, hey! I was respecting your wishes! I felt guilty about the operation and thought that the least I could do was keep my pain all to myself. Which is kinda funny because you're always telling me not to bottle up my emotions!" By then you were crying, just because you were too mad at yourself for making him feel like that, and he paused but only to take a breath: "But, you know that all of that wasn't even what hurt the most? The worst part was when I got a text from Burgess on the chat group saying that they'd found you and had taken you to Med, but that we could continue doing our surveillance on one of the offenders because Kev was already on the way there!" He shouted this time, which made you wince a little — even though he looked more hurt than angry, really. Running his hands through his hair, Jay completed: "and, now, that I'm finally able to be with you- to- to know for myself that you're okay! You suggest that I was-" He couldn't even finish the sentence, which showed even more just how distraught he truly was. "I guess I just- I just can't believe that you don't see that all I wanna do is be here. With you. Taking care of you. Which is all I wish I could’ve done at the hospital, too…"

"I know, Jay." You whispered with a weak voice. Unsure that he'd heard you, you tried it a bit louder: "I know, Jay. And, trust me, I am so sorry for what I said! I don't- I just… I just wish it didn't have to be this complicated…" You knew what that sounded like. And, God, you were terrified about it. How could not you find anything good enough to say?

"Maybe I shouldn't be saying this… Maybe I shouldn't be trying anymore…” Because it sure looks like you gave it up, he wanted to add, "but I- I need to at least ask. Why does it have to be so complicated?"

"Jay, babe-"

"No! Don't do that! Don't try and stall me with that soft tone! I just wanna know why!"

"You know why, Jay!"

"I don't! I really don't! Or have you forgotten that all you did so far was give me half-ass excuses about privacy and being shy?"

"Okay! You wanna know why?" You half-asked, half-barked at him, "it's because I am scared of what will happen! That's why! Throughout all of my career, I've had to prove myself, then I got this sort of arranged job at Intelligence which not only threw all of my hard work to hell but, also, never lets me rest because it never really feels like I'm a part of that so-called family you guys have! And Voight? Every single day I still feel like he's testing me! Giving me the silliest assignments and being overly mad whenever I get the lead on a case! But, somehow — as messed up as it may sound —, I don't wanna lose that job! I don't wanna risk going back to the unit I came from, where I was constantly harassed and intimidated!" You blurted it all out, only stopping to take a breath while Jay simply stood there looking completely shocked. "And you, Jay, as great as you are — and you're literally the best thing that's ever happened to me —, you can very easily put all of that at risk." Now it was your turn to sigh. You could only hope that you sounded as defeated as you felt: having to give up the guy who was probably the love of your life just to not go from one toxic work environment back to an even more toxic one. Your mouth tasted sour after that realization, which just made you remember how sweet Jay's always was.

"You never told me any of that." He muttered quietly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"I know and I'm sorry. I just… Thought it would get better. Eventually."

"You know I could have helped, right?" He stated sadly, then adding with a shred of hope: "You know… Maybe I still can?"

"Jay… Let's just not make this harder. Please."

"Just hear me out for a second: you are a part of our family." At that you just scoffed and looked the other way, making him pull your chin to connect your eyes again. "You are. I said I was going crazy with you missing but they all were too, including Voight."

"Yeah, right."

"It's true! Why would I lie to you about this? He looked truly haunted and, if I'm being honest, I think he just hoped he wouldn't get too close to you, to keep his head on straight in case something like this ever happened." He gulped harshly before continuing, "in case something worse happened. I think he simply can't handle losing anyone else, (y/n/n)."

"Y- you really think that?" You asked him and, you'd be lying if you said that you didn't get just a little hopeful.

"I do, darling," he told you in a soft tone. "And I'm not making excuses for him here or anything, okay? I'm just tryna tell you that we can deal with Voight. We can deal with rumors. I swear I will fucking kill anyone who dares to even touch your name on that stupid department!"

"Jay!" You started to reprehend again, even though you knew that he was just trying to lighten the mood. "That is exactly the kind of stuff you can't even think about doing after we go public!" You told him while spatting his arm.

"Ouch! Wait a second, did you really just say after we go public?" The way his eyes twinkled at that moment was enough to get you to agree with anything he wanted, really.

"But, hey! Don't get all exci-" You couldn't finish your sentence as he had already swept you off your feet and started kissing you all over. It hurt a little, due to your bruises, but it's not like you actually gave a damn about it.

"Don't get excited? Lady, I'm already over the moon!" He told you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“Oh, God. You look so damn cute right now!! I can’t believe that I-” You cut yourself off because your voice started to crack while a big amount of sorrowful tears rolled down your cheeks. Seeing you like that, once more, made Jay start panicking a little, scared that maybe you were backing down on your relationship again.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Talk to me, please, (y/n/n).” Hearing the confusion in his plead sort of brought you back to say:

“I- I just can’t believe that I said the things I said to you! I hurt you! I hurt you in the kind of way I was scared you were you gonna get hurt when it seemed like I was gonna-”

“Don’t you dare complete that sentence, okay?!?” He half-asked, half-begged you, letting on so much heartbreak, “first of all: nothing could have ever hurt me in the way you being gone did. No matter how hard you might have tried, you just wouldn’t be able to get there, girl.” He said more casually, shrugging his shoulders in a way that made you crack a small smile. “And, second: I don’t want you thinking about me, in any way, when you're out there in the field. You just can't, love."

"I know, but at that moment, I-"

"Look, princess, you need to promise me that you will try your best to never do that again, okay? Because if you do, if the people we chase see any weaknesses they'll take advantage of it. And, then... But I know it's hard. You're the first thing on my mind whenever something goes south too, but I just- I love you too much to face the idea of losing you! So you need to promise me that you will keep your head one hundred percent focused on whatever is at hand, please, babe!" He begged you with such urgency in his voice that new tears started rolling down your already marked face.

"Oh, Jay... I love you, too, okay? More than anything in the world! But you know that, when we're in that kinda moment, our minds sometimes just wonder..." Seeing his concerned expression, you decided to add: "However, if you promise me you'll try your best to focus on your work, in the same way, I'll promise it too." At that, he gave you a cheeky smile.

"Deal. Now let's get you in bed cause it's been a long couple of days, detective." He said, picking you up one more time and carrying you to your bedroom.

"Oh my God! Jay, put me down!!" You squealed out, though you didn't really want him to put you down, ever.

[forever-rogue]

Green Thumb

A/N: So this was totally unprompted, but I really liked the idea of it! This is based off the idea from @softboiipascal​ that Frankie likes to garden and has a green thumb. I totally and fully support this hc and it’s the sweetest thing. Just some fluff! Enjoy!

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You'd never met your neighbor. Not really anyway; you'd exchanged pleasantries upon your move into the neighborhood a few months ago but that was about it. Nothing more than a friendly 'welcome to the neighborhood, I'm Francisco Morales -  Frankie.'

He'd been nice - polite - just like the rest of your new compatriots in the small, quiet neighborhood. There wasn't really much to tell about him otherwise. He presented an enigma; perhaps you'd just never taken the time to notice more about him. Francisco Morales was handsome in a conventionally unconventional way: tall and fairly fit with dark hair that curled at the ends, gentle brown eyes, and a sweet smile, but the nose is what got you. While it wasn't a typically classical nose, it was Aquiline in nature and suited him perfectly. Combined with the sultry baritone you'd heard for only a few seconds, it presented a wonderful picture. He was easy on the eyes and ears. 

But that was about as far as you'd gotten with him. You'd noticed his pattern of coming and going was fairly typical with a standard work day. Occasionally you'd spied a friend or two that would stop over, or he left the house for extended periods of time, usually on weekends. Gods, you felt like a stalker just knowing his comings and going. But really they weren't hard to pick up on. He seemed to prefer a solitary, quiet life and you wondered if it was by choice or circumstances. 

Whatever it was, there was something comforting about knowing that Francisco Morales lived right next to you.

It was a particularly nice late morning when you finally decided to get out of bed and do something. Maybe you would take a walk and treat yourself to brunch at your favorite little spot. That seemed like a good idea. You even decided you'd dress up, just because you felt like - what more reason was needed than that? You'd set out your favorite sundress and shoes by the bed, determined to slip them on after a hot, relaxing shower. 

But on this particular day, fate seemed to have conspired against you. Halfway through your shower, while you were still lathered in soft scented bubbles from head to toe, the water went from hot and relaxing to frigid. Almost jumping back from the sudden stream of iciness, you groaned in annoyance at the sudden interruption. Maybe it was just...a moment or two of coldness? Maybe you’d used up all the hot water? Maybe...it would be fine. 

So you stood there, naked and freezing, waiting for the water to warm back up. But then...nothing happened. At all. If possible, the water grew even colder. 

As you saw it, you had two options: get out and remain soaped up, or you could brace it and quickly rinse yourself off. Quickly opting for the latter, you braced yourself as you stepped back into the stream and washed off the soap and everything as quickly as humanly possible. 

By the time you were done, you were freezing, and trying to keep your lips from trembling too much. Wrapping yourself up in your biggest, and fuzziest, towel, you quickly worked to warm yourself up before getting dressed. If you hadn’t been awake before you certainly were now. 

This wasn’t how you’d planned your day off. Wrapping the towel around your head, you quickly dressed and threw open your windows and curtains to let the warmth of the spring sun into your bedroom. It had to be something with the water heater; you had no clue what else it could suddenly be. If you were being totally honest, you had no clue what it would be with the water heater.You’d have to call the landlord or some maintenance person as soon as possible to get this resolved. 

Trudging down the hall and into the garage, you examined the offending object but couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But that’s when an idea crossed into your head. Frankie. You didn’t know him well, but you thought you knew him well to garner that he would have some sort of knowledge about this type of stuff. 

Besides that, it would be the perfect excuse to talk to him. You’d be kidding yourself if you said the mystery of your neighbor wasn’t intriguing. 

That settled it. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You slipped on some new sandals as you trudged over to your neighbor’s house, glad to see that his car was in the driveway. For some reason, an odd bundle of nerves had settled into your stomach as you approached his front door. Why, why, why? This was just Frankie and it was just for a quick favor. Hell, if nothing else, you’d even offer to pay him for his time. Pushing away your worries and swallowing down your fears, you held up your hand and knocked on his door, loud enough to make sure he’d hear, but not too loud to be rude.

Standing back, you rocked on your heels as you waited for him to answer. But after a few minutes of silence, you wondered if he was actually home. Maybe you’d been mistaken and he was actually gone...deciding to head back to your own place, you paused when you’d heard some sounds from the backyard. Curious, you mused to yourself, very curious. 

Stepping off the porch, you walked around to the gate that led to the backyard and noticed that it was unlocked. Something compelled you to let yourself in, and slowly you did so, “hello? Frankie?”

Still not hearing anything, you walked all the way around the back but stopped suddenly in your tracks as you noticed his garden. You weren’t sure how you had never noticed it before, but it was - simply put - beautiful. 

Filled with rows of freshly grown vegetables, lined with fruit trees, and bordered by beautiful, stunning flowers. It was like a little oasis in the middle of suburbia. Whatever Frankie possessed, a green thumb was definitely in his arsenal. 

And that’s where you found him. Kneeling on the ground as he trimmed and gathered up some of his fresh vegetables. He was singing softly to himself as  music played from the small speaker on the porch. No wonder he hadn’t heard you; in some way you felt like you should just turn around and leave. It was like you had walked into a private moment; a man in his personal sanctuary.

But as soon as you’d resolved to leave, Frankie must have sensed your presence as he turned around and spotted you. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he brushed off his dirty hands on his jeans and stood up. Had he always been this handsome? Sweat trickled down his glorious neck and soaked into the collar of his t-shirt, and you had to struggle not to stare.

“H-hi Frankie,” you held up your hand a pathetic little wave, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt, I knocked but you didn’t answer and then I heard some noise and yeah...sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he was effortless and easy as he walked over to the speaker and turned it down before grabbing his glass of water and chugging half of it down in one go, “is everything alright?”

“I, ummm, this seems really silly,” you scratched at the back of your neck awkwardly and Frankie did his utmost best as he tried not to stare at you in that pretty sundress. He’d seen you in it, just around, and always thought it was beautiful - you were beautiful. Instead, he keep his gaze trained pointedly at your face; in all honesty, that was just as much of a struggle, you were easily the most gorgeous being he had ever seen. But you quickly snapped him back into reality, “but my hot water stopped worked mid shower this morning, and I-I had no clue about how any of this works, and I was wondering if you did? I should probably just have called the...someone. I just…”

“I can come and take a look,” he offered up the sweet smile, displaying the singular dimple you’d never noticed until now, “it just so happens that your hunch was right and I happen to know about these kinds of things.”

“I...thank you, Frankie,” your shoulders seemed to unwind with relief, and you knew you were in good, capable hands, “I really appreciate it. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”

“Not at all,” he promised, “I was just finished up. My vegetables have been doing very well this spring and have been growing like crazy. Would you...you like some?”

“Have you done all of this by yourself?” you were in awe as he shyly nodded. Taking a few steps closer, you admired some of the blooms and blossoms that were near you, “everything is beautiful. It’s impressive - I could never.”

“It’s not that hard,” he admitted as he reached for the basket he had been filling up, “it’s just about taking the time to do it and be thorough. It’s a hobby I picked up after...after I left the military. Occupies the hands and mind and results in something useful.”

Military. You had no clue he was a veteran. But then again, you quickly realized, you had a lot to learn about him still. 

“It’s turned into a beautiful hobby,” you gestured to the lush garden, “and you’ve obviously got some knack for it, Frankie. I’ll just have to come over to you whenever I need some fresh fruit and veggies.”

“You’re more than welcome any time,” he promised as he tucked the basket under his arm and stepped over to you, “come on, I’ll take a look at your water heater now, and then maybe we can do something else this afternoon…”

“I was planning on taking myself out to brunch,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, “perhaps you’d like to join me?”

“I’d like that...I’d like that a lot,” he agreed with a grin as bright as the golden sun, “what’s your favorite flower, by the way? Just curious…”

“Daisies,” you told him as he nodded and committed that to memory, “daisies.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Frankie?” you walked into Frankie’s house, arms filled with groceries for the barbecue the two of you were throwing over the weekend. The whole house smelled like pie, and you were sure that Frankie must have been up to some baking with his fresh apples while you were out. Just as you walked into the kitchen and set the bags on the counter, your suspicions were confirmed when you spied the two pies sitting on the counter and cooling down. 

“Hi honey,” he poked his head in from the backyard as soon as he’d heard you, happiness seeping into his features and his bones when he realized it was you, “didn’t realize you were buying half of the grocery store! I could have come and helped.” 

“It’s alright,” you promised, “a single trip and two bags. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’ve got everything for the barbecue this weekend. I wanted to make sure we had everything.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” he came over behind you, easily wrapping his arms around your waist as  he pressed a few gentle, delicate kisses to your shoulder. Barely able to contain the ticklish giggles that escaped your lips, you turned your head to offer him a proper kiss, “missed you, baby.”

“You saw me this morning,” you teased at his little pout, “can’t have missed me that much! I see you’ve kept busy. How much baking did you get done?”

“Still missed you,” he insisted with a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but grin at his soft little display of affection, “and I only made the two pies...but I did start on attempting to make some fruit preserves. Who knows if they’ll even turn out good at all!”

“If you’re making them, I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” you reassured him. The man really did have a knack for not only gardening, but also baking and cooking. You’d really lucked out with Francisco Morales; you were more than thankful you’d asked him to come and look at your water heater on that fateful day almost six months ago. You never thought it would lead to all of this - but you were more than happy it did. 

“You’re just saying that,” he joked as you huffed in jest before wrapping your arms around him and engulfing him in a giant, tight hug, “fine, fine, fine, you win.”

‘I know,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “now help me unpack and then we can figure out dinner. Maybe take out tonight?”

“Sounds good to me...there’s just...one thing,” the man you loved suddenly seemed to turn shy as he stared at his feet, “just...stay here for a moment, okay?”

“Sure,” you arched a brow as you suddenly worried about him. Gods, you hoped everything was okay, “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, “just close your eyes.”

You did as you were told and listened to the sound of his eager footsteps race from the kitchen and...back outside? Shrugging lightly to yourself, you kept your eyes closed as you leaned against the counter in anticipation. 

It was indeed only a few moments before he bounded back and you could feel his body heat in front of you, “Frankie?”

“Alright, sweet girl,” he whispered, “you can open your eyes.”

Slowly opening your curious eyes, you were quickly met with the sight of a bouquet of the most beautiful daisies you had ever seen. They were soft, and delicate, in various shades of brilliant sunset colors. Your jaw dropped as you looked between them and the man holding them. 

“Francisco…” it was all you could manage to choke out as you looked at them, tears already pricking the backs of your eyes, “these are absolutely beautiful.”

“They’re for you,” he insisted, almost appearing nervous, “you said they were your favorite.”

“They are,” you took them and delicately thumbed over some of the petals, “where did you…”

“I grew them,” he admitted proudly and you were sure your heart was about to burst with happiness and love, “I planted them the day after your water heater incident and they’re finally all ready for you.”

“You grew them for me?” a single tear rolled down your cheek, which he gently wiped away, “how have I never noticed them before?”

“Of course, I did,” he grinned, “I planted them where they would be a little hidden, so you could only really see them if you were looking for them. D-do you like them, sweet girl?”

“I love them,” you reassured him with a soft kiss, “they’re absolutely beautiful. I love you, Francisco. More than words could ever convey. Thank you, my love.”

“Anything for you,” he put his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug, careful not to crush the flowers, “I love you.”

Maybe you were thankful for that stupid old water heater after all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[wrenhyperfixates]

Anything

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @mlqcikemenmc​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.

“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”

“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”

“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.

After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.

“So...” you began.

“So?”

“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”

“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”

“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”

You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.

“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”

“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”

“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.

Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.

“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.

“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”

After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.

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

“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.

“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”

“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.

“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”

You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.

“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”

You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”

“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”

You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.

“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”

“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.

As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.

After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.

“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.

“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”

“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.

As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.

“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”

“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”

“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.

“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”

You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Skinny Love II (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: second part to skinny love. This is all angst. Very sad. I just watched the pain arc again and had to write something about Kakashi and what happens. Im guessing this could be tagged for spoilers but Naruto is old soooo. 

Word count: 5000

“I’m just saying, maybe the second novel is better than the first. You’re free to have your own opinion, that’s just what I think.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Whatever you say,” Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at the masked man sitting in front of her. She was sipping on a hot bowl of broth after coming home from her most recent mission. It was a nice day out, and she thought it would be a good idea to go out and get something to eat with her favorite shinobi. He was dangerously possessive over his romance novels, and felt immense embarrassment when Y/N decided to pick them up as well. 

For a week after finishing the series, she mocked him for liking the gushy, mushy romance that lied on the pages, not to mention the more inappropriate chapters that left nothing to the imagination. Master Jiraiya wasn’t kidding when he said he was doing “research” at the bath house.

“We should go out more often,” he commented, “It’s nice to relax with all this Akatsuki business going on.”

“Definitely. We used to go out like this all the time before you started training those kids,” she hummed. It was true. They had normal outings at that point in time, as the only thing they did was go on missions and then chill at home until the next outing. After Naruto and Sasuke revealed their unique personalities, and got themselves into some sticky situations, the times changed and they spent much more time apart than before. “Not to mention going out with you gives me an excuse to eat whatever I want.”

He nodded in reply, his eyes trailing down to his novel once again which he was skimming over. She didn’t mind him reading at the table. What was he supposed to do? Eat? There was no way he would take off the mask. He was content just giving her company. 

His reading gave Y/N an excuse to admire him. Her eyes would lift from the table every time he looked down at the pages, and she would take in all his features. She swore, he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met, even with the mask. Without a mask, he probably resembled a god. It was nice to just watch as he relaxed into his novel, enjoying himself without any cares in the world. 

She liked to talk to him even more. He always knew the right thing to say to make her feel important and wanted, even on her worst of days, he was there to make it better. He was brave and strong, but kind and gentle when need be. His soft words in the late nights they hung out, or his concern when she injured herself, or the happiness the times she made him laugh. Each moment meant so much more to her than he realized. 

It was evident to everyone that she had an attachment to him. What kind exactly was the complicated part. While they had been friends for quite a long time, she felt like he was more than just a normal friend or even a best friend. He felt more like a partner than anything, whether it be partner-in-crime or partner-in-love. She loved him with every bone in her body, more than she loved her comrades or her friends, she cared for him like she would a lover.

Maybe it was because she was so shy that she couldn’t tell him how she felt after all this time. Maybe it was fear of rejection. Maybe it was fear of death. She wasn’t sure what held her back from confessing her love to him, spilling all those words she kept under lock and key. She wanted there to be something more, but he’d never let on that he cared for her that way, and surely he would have said something if he did feel that way. It just seemed impossible.

But not to the ordinary person. 

People had mentioned in passing to Kakashi that he acted like a lovesick teenager when he was around the woman. She was just so perfect, how could he do anything but adore her. To him, she was one of the only people that truly mattered as more than a fellow shinobi or comrade.

There was no reason to rush it though. If she truly wanted a relationship with him, she would tell him eventually. He wasn’t one to go around throwing out love confessions first. He would wait until she was comfortable and ready. Until then, he would admire her from a distance, through friendly touches and smiles, and dreamy looks when the other wasn’t watching. To him, that was enough. 

This lunch outing was the perfect time to waste some hours with her just talking and reading in the others company. The day almost felt too good to be true. 

And it was.

First there was the explosion, followed by the screams. Oh, those screams would haunt Y/N’s dreams. Villagers who she’d known growing up screaming in pain. Quickly, she jumped to her feet as did the copy nin.  Their eyes frantically looked through the doorway of the restaurant, but there wasn’t anything on their particular street, just dust from the explosion floating down in thick clouds. 

“Someone’s attacked the village. Shit,” he cursed under her breath. 

They would have to go out there and fight, they both knew that very well. Fight who, they didn’t know, but Y/N could sense that the same foreign chakra signature was coming at her from multiple directions in the village. That couldn’t be good. It was probably that Akatsuki member that everyone was talking about. Pain. Pain with the rinnegan. How could the leaf compete against something as strong as that dojutsu?

“Everybody out! You know the evacuation route,” Y/N called out to the civilians in the restaurant, as she swallowed her panic. She made a move to usher the people from the store so they could run in the direction of refuge.

This wasn’t a normal battle. These intruders were a completely different breed than the ones they were used to fighting. She could feel the impending doom start to blanket around her body, and she took a deep breath. How could this happen? Was Pain here to take Naruto? Naruto wasn’t even in the village, how could that be? Was it the Akatsuki making a big statement attacking one of the five great villages?

There was just something off. She could feel it. Today was going to be one of the worst days, worse than anything else they’d experienced.

“Y/N, let’s go.”

“Kakashi…” she trailed off, not taking a step forward just yet. Was there something she needed to get off her chest before they rushed into a battle with an outcome unknown? As she met his frantic, panicked eyes with her own, she wondered if she should just confess her feelings right then and there, just so he could know before they put their lives on the line. 

Never in her life did she think that her or Kakashi might die. It was never a thought that crossed her mind. She assumed she had all the time in the world to gather the courage to tell him. Now it felt like she had run out of time, and they might never get the chance to see each other again. The chakra signatures around them were just too strong to guarantee they would live against their blows. It felt like this was her final chance. 

She started again, “Kakashi, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, wanting to hurry this along. She could see plainly that this wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t in the right mind to hear her words, or comprehend the meaning behind them. Instead, she lowered her head and sighed. 

And so she kept that secret tightly bound deep in her heart. 

“Nevermind, it’s not important. Just be safe out there. Make it back to me in one piece, okay?”

“You know I can’t promise that,” he replied, and her heart sank in her chest. He was right. If he died, he died. If she died, she died. Nothing could stop fate from doing its dirty work.

“Just promise me. Give me some confidence before we jump into this mess. I-I can’t do this without you promising me you’ll live!” She cried, passion and fear dripping off her words. She had her eyes shut tightly at this point, just trying to keep herself from letting the potential tears gather in her eyes. Her fists clenched by her side as well. “Just say something!”

He nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “I promise I’ll make it back to you, Y/N. Now promise you’ll live. For me,” he demanded, lifting her head to face him. His fingers were strong against her cheek, firm when faced with danger. He wanted her to live, but knowing that Pain killed Jiraiya was enough to make him worry and plan for the worst. 

Why was he even asking? He knew that words meant nothing. That most promises were just bound to be empty. 

Just this one time, he prayed that she’d keep it.

“I promise.”

“Now let’s go. I’ll take this side, and you go that way. Sounds like explosions came from both directions.”

“Got it.”

There was no room for goodbyes.

After that, they went their separate ways. Y/N had to keep herself from losing control. Everything was going to be okay. She was worrying far too much. Kakashi was strong. Stronger than anyone else she knew really. He couldn’t be taken down by some terrorists. It wasn’t an option.

As long as she could sense his chakra lingering in the distance, she would know. 

__________

It was painful, the wound that tore through her thigh. Blood dripped thickly from the cut, but she continued to fight. In this situation, there was nothing else to do, nothing more to fight for than the safety of the village and the people within it. Y/N has never seen a villain this bad, someone so dead set on killing and tormenting that it brought the shinobi of the village to their knees. Yet, here he was, this orange haired creature who popped up at multiple points of their city, each with a different signature move yet a similar chakra pattern.

Y/N knew she couldn’t break down just yet, not after seeing comrade after comrade fall to the ground and lose their lives to the cause. She had to keep going for them. For her friends and her family who died. She was never the most talented at fighting, she was more of a sensory type, stay on the inside and study type of kunoichi. But not today. No one had that luxury today.

Constantly, she could feel the loss of the ninja alongside her, their chakra signatures melting into nothing as blasts continued to ravage their village. The fire within their bodies burned for the last time, disappearing into the ashes.

It wasn’t until she was on her knees, face buried in the dirt and rubble did she really feel the pain this man was so desperate to bestow upon the villagers. Kakashi’s chakra had burned out. It was as if her body gave up after that. She couldn’t move, her bones were broken and she couldn’t afford to stand and fall back down once again, believe it that she tried over and over again. Nothing mattered at this point. How could it? She couldn’t feel her best friend’s chakra signature any longer. He was dead.

Her crying into the dirt was the only thing that signalled another shinobi to come and help her to the infirmary. Someone she barely knew had picked her up by the arm and hoisted it over his shoulder, dragging her by his side to the hospital where the medical nin were no doubt working harder than ever. Her whole body felt like it was caked in bloody crimson mud, dust up her nose and muk between her teeth. 

Everything just made her cry harder and harder until she felt she was gasping to breathe. 

The harsh lights in the building did nothing but sting her eyes, and the dozens of medical nin rushing around those lying on the floor overwhelmed her. 

Sakura stood at the front of all the mess, and her eyes immediately caught onto Y/N and her rescuer. “Y/N-sensei, what happened to you?” she cried, rushing over with her frantic hands hovering over the state of the broken woman as she scanned for the wounds. This only caused more sobbing.

“One second she was fine, the next she was lying in the dirt screaming. I don’t know,” the man said, handing her off to the pink haired girl. “She’s got broken legs, I know that.”

“Thank you for bringing her,” she mumbled as she brought her sensei over to an empty cot, sitting her down on the cloth and beginning the healing process on the worst part of her leg where the bone was exposed. She was shaking so badly it was almost hard to concentrate on her work. She’d never seen Y/N so hopeless and lost. She was strong, she never faltered in the face of danger. It worried Sakura, no doubt.

“Sensei, what happened?”

“It’s Kakashi,” the woman croaked between her harsh breaths. “I-I can’t feel his chakra anymore.” Tears ran down her cheeks furiously, dripping from her chin into her lap. She felt the hopelessness overtake her entire person, the only thing left being complete and utter fear. Her chest heaved, desperate for the next gulp of air into her lungs. 

Sakura nearly faltered at the words. Kakashi sensei, dead? How could that be? He was one of the strongest shinobi they knew. He would never fall victim to a villain, would he? From the sounds of Y/N’s heartbroken cries, the medical nin knew that it was over. That another life had been stolen from them. 

Kakashi was Y/N’s heart and soul. She loved him for years and planned to love him for many more. Everyone knew that. Kakashi and her may have never acknowledged their feelings before his death, but the skinny love lingered in the air every time they were around each other. 

The longing looks when they passed each other in the street. The pain they felt when the other was hurt. The smiles they shared when something good happened in their no-good shinobi lives. They were more than willing to lay their lives on the line for the other, more than just a comrade, more than a friend. 

Her passion for Kakashi was the only good thing she had to come home to after missions. His face was the one thing she wanted to see after a bad day. His stupid face as he read his perverted novels, that grin that she positively adored.

All of that was gone, and her heart couldn’t take it. The pain from her injuries sat in the back of her mind, the only thing she could focus on was the loss. Knowing she would never see him again, never hear his voice. If only she could hear him laugh one more time. It was impossible, but she wished to the heavens above for mercy.

Sadly, no one was there to listen. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Sakura whispered, not knowing what else to say. What could she say? 

“I need him. I can’t do this without him,” she sobbed, her hands shaking by her side, having to clench her fists just to stop the tremors. “Sakura, it’s been 15 years. I...I don’t know a life without him.”

Her heart broke at the words. It was true. She didn’t know life anymore without Kakashi. They’d been friends and comrades for so long that it seemed like that was all she knew. How can you come back from that? Sakura didn’t know. She might be able to heal the woman’s legs, but there was no way she could begin to heal such a broken heart. 

“It’s okay. You have plenty of others. You have Gai and Kurenai and-”

“Fuck everyone else. You know they can’t replace him,” she snapped. “No one can replace him.”

Sakura could only nod solemnly. They could lie all day and pretend that Gai would somehow swoop in and make up for that gaping hole in her heart. They could lie and say that Kurenai and her child would fill Y/N with a happiness she felt with Kakashi. Yes, they could certainly lie about it all. 

At the end of the day though, her pain would be unrivalled. Losing the one man you’ve loved from the moon and back. It would take an entire army and then some to combat such a struggle. 

When Sakura was done healing the woman, she handed her a roll of bandages from her pocket. “I’ve got to tend to others. Wrap this around your calf and then stay here to rest. Please, just rest yourself, sensei. You’ll heal faster that way.” Y/N took the bandages and nodded her head weakly, shaky hands going to wrap her bare and burned calf with the medical bandages.

Her mind still centered around Kakashi. She found herself curling up into a ball on the little bench she was sat at, hugging her knees close to her chest. She just cried. Right now, she couldn’t do anything else. 

Just cry.

________

The village was in complete and utter ruin. Y/N lay painfully utop a mountain of rubble, blood oozing from the back of her head and from her already injured leg. Pain’s final attack, one that completely demolished the village...it spared her life.

How could things get any fucking worse? 

She felt like the Gods were being especially cruel to her on this day. Especially cruel to every single person in the village, but they kept Y/N alive for their own personal amusement, laughing at her loss and her pain and her  frustration. 

Despite Lady Tsunade sending out Katsuyu to protect the villagers, Y/N only seemed to be in worse shape than before. She could feel the slug on her shoulder slowly healing her, but it wasn’t much compared to the pain and the numerous injuries.

Y/N rolled onto her side and groaned, pain shooting up her spine and giving her a brain-shattering headache. When she went to cough on something thick and slimy in her throat, what splattered on the ground was red. Maybe she was just meant to die slow and painfully. 

It was better this way, she decided. Nothing could make this day worth it. Nothing. The pain was unbearable.

“Y/N? Is that you?” a feminine voice called from a little while away, and the woman cursed, spitting up more blood as she did so. Sakura climbed through some of the rubble to approach her. Her hands hovered over the woman’s broken body, scanning over all her wounds. 

Naruto was down there fighting Pain. Everything was going to be okay as long as they had faith in the Uzumaki. Sakura could focus a bit of her energy on healing her sensei. There was nothing else to do except watch the fight below them, in the center of the wasteland that used to be the Hidden Leaf.

She began the healing process, medical chakra flowing into the woman’s chest wounds, the most critical of all. “Sakura…”

“What is it, Y/N?”

“What’s happening? Is everyone dead?”

“No, everyone is alive. Lady Tsunade sent out Katsuyu to protect everyone. It seems that you were injured before your healing slug could get to you. Thankfully, you have both of us to fix you up,” she muttered. Y/N would have been blind to not notice the way Sakura stared past her deeper into the wreckage as she spoke. 

“What do you see?” she asked quietly, as loud as her body could muster.

“It’s Naruto. He’s out there fighting Pain alone,” she said, “He-he’s gotten so much stronger.”

The older woman smiled through her pain, shutting her eyes and letting a soft sigh leave her lips. She hadn’t anticipated Naruto to come saving the day, in fact, it seemed more likely that Pain would kill everyone and leave the village in ruin. Fortunately, Kakashi’s student, the one that people had underestimated for so long, was out there doing what the rest of them couldn’t. 

A hero. No matter if he won or not, these are the actions of a hero.

“It’s his destiny: to save this village,” she whispered. “Jiraiya once said so.”

“Let’s hope he was right.”

Together they lay there in the middle of ruin while Naruto battled Pain. They watched as the two men launched themselves away from the village into the woods, the nine tailed fox coming to life far away from where they huddled together. The village was safe from direct harm at this point and the two women let down their guard just a little bit. Down in the middle of the pit some of the students started to gather, including a heavily injured Hinata.

“Help me down there, Sakura. I need to see Gai,” she said, louder than before. After all that time healing, she found herself strong enough to prop up on her elbows and gaze into the destruction. 

Once down there, Sakura was quick to start healing Hinata, fearing that the girl had taken too much damage to handle. After all, she charged against Pain, the supposedly leader of this terrorist attack. All of that to help out young Naruto. Y/N felt like she was staring at an image of herself for a moment. A young woman ready to sacrifice it all for the sake of the man she loved. 

As her eyes moved around the area, she caught onto the bright green outfit of her long time friend. His eyes caught hers for a moment and quickly, he rushed over to her side. She collapsed onto her knees, wincing at the pain that ran through her body as she did so. She found herself still a bit too weak to stand. 

“Y/N, you’re alive,” he gasped. He knelt on the ground beside her and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, steadying her shaky form. “Your injuries-”

“Forget about that, Gai,” she mumbled. “Something terrible has happened.” He couldn’t imagine what she had to say could be any worse than the destruction of the entire village. But he nodded and sat there listening as she spoke her words carefully, painfully with each syllable that left her lips. “Kakashi is dead.”

He felt his heart drop in his chest. As he looked at the woman before him, he knew that she wanted nothing more to cry, yet there were no tears. He assumed that she had already cried her fill earlier and could only mourn at this point. He didn’t ask before wrapping her smaller form up in his arms and tugging her to his chest, burying his nose in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his shoulder, dry sobs causing her entire form to quiver.

In a moment like this one, he just remained still for her. Sit there and be there through this pain. He felt crushed at the thought of his best friend dead, his eternal rival somewhere out there in all that rubble fatally injured. Gai had lost a brother that day, and Y/N had lost her one and only lover.

He listened as she hopelessly bawled in the comfort of his arms, feeling every bit of her pain sink into his form. They had gone through battles together before, they grew up teammates and friends, how could they not. They had seen death and pain all their lives. This was on another level, incomprehensible to either of them. 

Pure misery. Every emotion seemed to burn in her chest. She wanted to curl up and die herself.

________

It felt like hours went by before the lives were returned. She hadn’t thought much of it when the elderly Toad woke up from his eternal slumber. For a moment, she thought it was just a fluke. That he had never really died in the first place, they just thought he did. But then, she watched as people above the trench started to stand from their resting places on the ground and in the rubble. 

That is when she realized that somehow, someway, the lives lost during this terrible battle had been reclaimed. It was only a matter of time before she found out if Kakashi had come back to life as well. She sat there, focusing all her energy into sensing nearby chakra, sorting through hundreds of people for the one she wanted. 

Gai had left to help out some of the others, so she just sat there waiting. Waiting for Kakashi to come back to her. Just like he promised.

After all this chaos, she couldn’t imagine keeping her love a secret from him any longer. He needed to know. She wouldn’t let this opportunity go wasted. Y/N was given a second chance at finding love in her friend, and she would be damned if she let that go to waste. 

After a while, she began to feel his chakra. At first it was very faint, like he was a mile away hidden underneath rocks and everything else you could imagine. But then it got stronger. 

He was alive.

When she saw his form climb down into the pit with the rest of them, his mask torn and only the bottom layer of his clothes still intact, she nearly cried once again. For hours before this, she was prepared to never see him alive again, never see that masked face look down upon hers once more. She had mourned the loss of Kakashi Hatake, only for him to be returned. 

It was as if the God’s had listened to her prayers.

“Kakashi!” she exclaimed as she struggled to get herself up from the ground. She knelt on one knee, pushing herself up with the other, desperate to walk over to him. Her body failed her of course, and she fell back onto her butt. He noticed her though, her tiny figure in the crowd of hundreds. She was the one person he wanted to find all along. 

He fell onto his knees beside her, his hands coming up to grasp her cheeks with his dusty, calloused hands. She relaxed into his rough fingers, sinking into the warmth that he was sharing. His thumbs slid along her lips and chin, trying to rub away the dirt that was caked in some places. She was a mess, messier than he was. He could only imagine the suffering that she went through as well, to have survived all of that without death as a retreat in the middle.

“Y/N, what happened to you?”

“Pain’s final blow caused some pretty bad wounds, but it’s fine. Sakura healed me enough that I’ll make it through,” she told him. Softly, she lifted her hands to place them over top his, her fingers slowly wrapping around his. “Kakashi, you broke your promise to me.”

“I know.”

She found that the words came out faster than she anticipated. Emotions and feelings being laid out in the open for him to see/ “I-I completely lost myself when I couldn’t feel your chakra anymore. I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t stop crying, and I was angry at you for breaking your promise to me,” she rambled, “I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you.”

“It’s alright. I’m here now. Whatever Naruto has done saved my life,” he soothed, letting their hands fall into her lap. She wouldn’t let go of his hands even if he wanted them to himself. She was afraid. Afraid that if she let him go once more that he would be gone forever. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I really shouldn’t have died like that. So irresponsible of me.”

There he was cracking a fucking joke about his own death. She wanted to smack him for being so dimwitted in a moment of vulnerability. Just the thought of being with him again made tears spring up in her eyes, and she shut her eyes to keep them from falling. Happy tears or not, she wasn’t going to cry again.

 “I need to tell you what I was too afraid to say before. What I wanted to say before we went our separate ways,” she confessed, her breaths coming out harsh and rushed. Once again, she gripped his hands tighter in hers. 

After taking a couple breaths, she lifted her eyes to meet his, mouth just agape. He really was all she could ever need. This moment wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t ideal, but it was just right for what she needed to say. “I’ve always loved you, Kakashi.”

“Y/N-”

“Listen, I know it’s not exactly an appropriate time to be confessing my love to you and all, but I couldn’t risk another day going by without telling you.”

“I love you, too.”

And silence. 

There wasn’t anything else to say. The love was mutual, it had been all this time. They just took their time getting around to admitting it, to just hear those words leave the other’s lips for the first time. There were no butterflies in her stomach nor did her heart race in her chest at his confession. 

She could only feel comfort in the umbrella they’d created for themselves, the outside world lost to the both of them. 

In a flash, she lurched forward to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face deep into his neck. “Don’t die ever again, Hatake, or I’ll kick your ass,” she laughed, the sound of her laugh reaching his ear. He held her to his chest and sighed. 

“No promises.”

Despite what happened that day, he felt comfortable. For the first time, in a very long time, he felt relief wash over him. Everything was going to be okay.

“Kakashi!”

Requests Are Open!

[quiet-onset]

Opening Up

Pairing: Frank Castle x Black!reader

WC: 4.5k+

Warnings: slight angst, 18+, IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER, DO NOT INTERACT!! Unprotected sex (no glove, no love guys), female-receiving and male-receiving oral, overstimulation, mild choking, very slight d/s

Frank Castle was never one for opening up. The last time that happened — it wasn’t pretty. He’d lost the people he’d cared about most. So, he kept himself closed off.

That is, until he met you.

In that dark, dank bar, full of criminals and gang leaders, you stuck out like a sore thumb. Compared to the meatheads surrounding you, you were a delicate flower. A rose that grew from the cracks in the sidewalks, refusing to bend or break for anyone. Stunning brown skin complementing a little baby blue dress that made Frank’s mind foggy, you sat at the bar and made friendly conversation with the bartender. 

Frank had come to the bar loaded with a single pistol and his bare fists, prepared to take down as many of those criminal fucks as he could. He didn’t even break a sweat because he knew he could handle every man in that bar with one hand tied behind his back. But he hesitated — Frank Castle hesitated — when he saw you.

Unfortunately for him, Frank was a hard man to miss.

He hadn’t been in the bar for too long before he was surrounded. Not that it mattered much. He took on man after man, brute after brute, with no fear in his heart. Hell, some men ran out as soon as they witnessed the sheer force that Frank unleashed. He fought until it was just him, you, and the bartender. Frank, battered and bloody, turned to the bartender, “You know why I’m here? Huh?”

The bartender, instead of using his common sense, immediately grabbed the gun he kept under the counter. Frank did the same, flicking off the safety as he tried to get a clear shot. The bartender scurried around the bar and grabbed you, nudging the barrel against your temple. “One step, and I’ll blow her fucking br—”

Just as quick, you grabbed his wrist and reared your elbow into his gut. As he groaned and doubled over, you snatched the gun from him and threw it on the floor near Frank.

When Frank lowered his gun with a stunned look on his face, you turned to him. In a quiet voice, sweet and smooth like honey, you shrugged and said, “I took a self defense class.”

That was when he knew he’d have to rethink the whole ‘not opening up’ thing.

Months later, you found yourself in Frank’s small apartment in the Bronx. You knew what he did, of course. He’d come home late at night many times with cuts and bruises that you’d gladly patched up. He still couldn’t help feeling like he didn’t deserve your presence. Like he wasn’t worthy of your kindness and patience. But of course, in normal Frank fashion, he kept it to himself.

You noticed him getting a little distant, more than usual. There were no more of the small things. The hand on your lower back as he passed you in the hall. The cute little pet names he always called you but would never admit to. He even stopped reaching for you at night when he came home late. You hated seeing him close in on himself, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

When Frank walked in at three in the morning, you were wide awake with a cup of tea in your hands. Despite his sore, aching muscles and wishing he could just be numb, his heart warmed at the sight of you in his t-shirt and jacket. Legs folded under you as you pulled the jacket sleeves into your hands, he gazed and wondered why someone as gentle and kind as you would ever give him the time of day. He paused in the entrance, clearing his throat. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” You set your cup on the coffee table as you look at the gash on his lower torso. “You’re hurt.”

He chuckled quietly, slightly wincing when he touched it. “I’m always hurt.”

“Let me patch it up for you.”

“I can do it.” He reached for the first aid kit you kept in the side table, but you placed your soft hand over his bruised, calloused one.

“I know. But let me.”

Frank heaved out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t say no to you. The tension between you was thick as he walked around the table to the couch. His heavy boots clunked against the hardwood floor until he stood tall above you. As he looked down at you, you took his hand in one of yours and his bicep in the other, pulling him gently down to sit next to you.

He watched you closely as you opened the first aid kit. As you pulled out the alcohol and a wad of gauze, he leaned forward and reached under the table. “Frank, sit back.”

“I am, just give me a second.”

When he leaned back with a bottle of brandy and some painkillers in hand, you chuckled and shook your head. “How long has that been under there?”

“You kidding?” He finally cracked a small smile. “I’ve got bottles stashed all over this place.”

You gently wiped the wet gauze across the gash, pausing when he took a sharp breath of air. You smiled up at him before focusing again on his wound. “You sure you don’t have a problem?”

“I’ve got a lot of problems, but drinking ain’t one of them.”

He pulled the cork out of the bottle and took the pills with a quick drink as you reached for the needle and thread. Frank was used to being wiped down and stitched up, but he never seemed to get used to having you do it. His heart always pounded against his chest like the beat of a war drum. It was uncomfortable in the best way — the kind that pushes you out of your comfort zone. 

“What was it this time?” You asked softly.

“Human trafficking ring.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” His breath hitched as the needle passed through his skin once more. “There’s still two more sects to deal with, but I figured I should stitch this up first. Can’t help anyone if I’m dead.”

You chuckled and wiped away the remaining blood, finishing up his stitches. “Frank Castle finally learned to think rationally? It’s a miracle.”

Frank felt the tension between you melt away as he chuckled at your teasing and giggling. “You think that’s funny, huh?” Ignoring the pain in his abdomen, he swung his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you tight. “You got jokes now, is that it?”

Soon, the laughter died down and the silence set in. Just you and him, staring into each other’s eyes. You could feel his impending apology radiating off him as you leaned just a bit closer. “I was worried about you.”

“I know.”

“You can’t just shut me out.”

“I know.” Frank grabbed your other hand. “I’m sorry.”

You paused and glanced down at your intertwined hands. It was such a stark contrast — the scars and calluses on his large hands while your rich brown skin was smooth and soft, free of almost any marks. Still, you believed that was why you worked together. You supported each other in unimaginable ways. And as crazy as it sounded, you weren’t sure what you would do if Frank disappeared from your life. It was a beautiful feeling to love someone like that, but it still made your heart drop to your stomach during moments like these. “Don’t do it again.” 

He smiled down at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he leaned in closer. “You gonna kiss me now?”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good.”

The first kiss was short and gentle, Frank’s apology to you. The second was a bit more intense. His tongue dragged across yours, and it was so excruciatingly intoxicating that you couldn’t help but move closer to him. Frank pushed his jacket off your shoulders and flung it onto the floor behind the couch. Suddenly, you both needed to be as close as possible. You helped him get his clothes off, leaving him in his boxers. 

Frank realized then that you were staring at his scars, as you usually did. He wasn’t insecure about them, but they were reminders of the things he did. Sometimes, they brought back memories he’d rather not relive. So, you, being intuitive, always paid special attention to them. You delicately ran a hand across his pecs and down his torso, scratching lightly over his scars — but carefully avoiding his stitches — as you placed wet kisses along the column of his neck. That combination never failed to make his breath hitch in his throat. 

Then, suddenly filled with the urge to make you feel good, he cupped your sex with his large calloused hand. The heel of his hand pushed into your clit, and you were putty in his hands. He felt your body shudder as you let out the sweetest sigh in his ear. “Let me take care of ya.” He said in a quiet, gruff voice. 

You let him gently push you back onto the couch, your chest heaving as Frank lowered himself onto the floor. Looking up at you, his entire world, he couldn’t have felt luckier. You went to pull him back up, worried about his stitches, but he only pushed your hands back. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just let me do this for ya.”

His hand travelled up your bare thighs, pushing up the end of his T-shirt to reveal your simple cotton panties. As Frank marveled at the wet spot that began to soak through them, you squirmed shyly. “If I’d known this was gonna happen, I’d have worn something better.”

“Whaddya mean? This is perfect.” His hand pressed into your inner thigh, he ran his thumb across the wet spot with a hum. It was a light touch, not enough pressure for any real satisfaction but just enough to evoke a gentle sigh from your lips. “You’re perfect.”

Slipping his fingers under the waistband, he pulled them down your thighs and tossed them over his back. He wasn’t sure where they landed — he was too preoccupied with the goddess before him. 

It took a lot to get Frank Castle on his knees, yet you seemed to do it effortlessly. Just a simple gesture and he was on his knees, ready to praise you, to worship you and your body. He briefly wondered if this was what it was like to have a religious awakening, but he couldn’t see past what was before him. All that talk with Murdock about sin and faith, right and wrong, it all went out the door when he met you. How was he supposed to understand any of that when the gods walked among them — you sitting before him as living proof?

He was pulled from his trance as you placed a hand on his cheek. “Hey, you okay?” You asked softly.

Looking up at you, he nodded before placing his hands under your knees and pulling you forward. “Better than.” He replied gruffly. With your legs over his shoulders, he lowered his face to your pussy, licking one long, thick stripe from your opening to your swollen clit. “Just hold onto me.”

You knew Frank was going to take his time with you when he started slow. As much as you loved the way Frank would sometimes bury his face so far into you that he could barely breathe, you preferred when he slowed down, breaking you down until you were whimpering nonsense above him. There was something more intimate about it, like he was finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. And although you could only catch glances of his hypnotizing eyes, gasping and writhing as his tongue brushed through your folds and licked up all you had to offer, you saw Frank become himself. He was no longer the Punisher or a veteran or a suffering widower. He was simply Frank.

And what a marvel he was. 

To the edge and back, over and over, Frank brought you teasingly close to release time and time again. Whether it had been thirty minutes or three hours, you couldn’t tell. You could only focus on the way he stared at you as he flicked at your clit, picking up speed. You whined when he slid a single finger into you, realizing he wasn’t going to look away. He wanted to see you come. 

“You gonna come for me?” Frank asked, his voice thick with lust. You couldn’t do much but moan and nod your head as he curled his finger inside you, pressing on the soft spot inside you that had you seeing entire galaxies behind your eyes. “Atta girl.”

He removed his finger, making you pout, but they were quickly replaced by his tongue. As he licked into you, his nose began to nudge at your clit, and you were clutching to the couch cushions. Somewhere between heaven and earth, Frank noticed your scrambling and reached out his hands. You intertwined both your hands with his, holding onto him as he pushed you closer and closer toward the edge. It wasn’t long until the coil snapped, and heat flooded up your body as you released on Frank’s tongue.

Still, he swept his tongue over your lips and across your labia, not minding the way you convulsed and squirmed and whimpered above him. He let out a groan at the sight of you, a thin sheen of sweat on your brown skin. Slipping his hands from yours, he reached up and took your breasts in his hands. He massaged them tenderly and pinched at your nipples as a small blissed out smile graced your lips. 

Then, with a renewed fervor, Frank wrapped his lips around your clit and flicked at it with his tongue.

You let out a loud gasp as Frank tried to wretch another orgasm out of you so soon after the first. Eyes shooting open, your hands flew to cover his on your breasts, once again desperate for something to ground you. 

“Frank,” You whined, “Frank, I can’t—”

“Sure you can.” He said, lifting his head for a moment. He rested his cheek against your inner thigh and watched as your hips began to buck ever so slightly, missing his contact. “See? You wanna come for me again, dontcha?”

Of course you wanted to. Without thinking twice, you reached down and took a light hold on his short, dark hair. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, making you giggle — which became a gasp when he flattened his tongue on your clit. “That’s a good girl.” He mumbled into you.

It didn’t take long before you were struggling to control your hips. Not that he minded. You were bucking into his mouth, reveling in the way your clit slid across his tongue. Frank let you do this for a while, enjoying the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Then, the begging started, and he nearly came in his boxers. “Frank, please! Oh god, it’s too much, but I’m so close — baby, please!”

How could he deny you when you sounded like an angel? He held your hips down with one hand and quickly slid two fingers into your wet heat, curling them to rub on your G-spot. “I want you to come for me again, sweetheart. You can do that, can’t ya?” Just as quickly, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Frank felt your walls tightened around his fingers, and, almost like it was pulled out of you by an invisible force, you came harder than the first time. Your legs tightened around his head and began to shake as you cried out, gripping tightly onto Frank’s hair. You couldn’t even tell how loud you were with all the blood rushing in your ears, but Frank was sure he heard someone bang on the wall. 

Tough, he responded to the neighbor in his head. 

Then, finally letting up on you, he kissed up your torso and your breasts to your lips, running his tongue across yours. You moaned at the taste of your juices and pulled him closer by the nape of his neck. When you both pulled away for air, you palmed him through his boxers. “It’s my turn now.” You said, pecking his lips once more before lowering yourself to the ground. 

“Baby, you don’t have to.”

“And miss an opportunity to make you feel good? No, sir.” You answered playfully as you took off your shirt and threw it behind you. 

Although you noticed the way his dick twitched at that last sentence, you decided to save that for another time. Right now, you just wanted to remind Frank of how much you love him. 

Getting comfortable between his legs, you pulled his dick out of the confines of his boxers, admiring the way it slapped up against his torso. You lowered your head to drag your cheek across his length. One hand in your curls and coils, he gave you a small smile. “God, you’re pretty, y’know that?”

“Even like this?”

He shuddered and gave a weak chuckle as your warm breath fanned across his hard cock. “Especially like this.”

Gently, you lifted and licked a broad stripe on the underside of his cock. After a small smile at the groan he let out, you took the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Just as he began to catch his breath, you decided to slowly take his entire length into your mouth. You did your best to fight off a smile as Frank’s eyes rolled back, letting out a silent moan. You knew how much he loved it when you started slow — it gave him an opportunity to just revel in the hot, wet feeling of your throat, instead of just chasing after his own release. 

He knew how much you liked it, too. There was just something about being able to reduce Frank Castle to moans and groans that pushed you to take him down your throat over and over again. It was an agonizingly slow but euphoric process. You spent a bit of time licking at his head, then you let him watch your lips stretch around his cock, fighting your body’s need to gag at the intrusion. You’d stay there as long as you could, enjoying the way Frank had to clutch onto the couch cushions to control himself and not thrust into you, and finally, you’d come back up. With a swirl of your tongue around his length for good measure. 

It wasn’t until you looked him directly in the eyes with his dick deep in your throat that he had to pull you off him. At first, you were confused and thought you’d done something wrong. Then you watched his eyes shut tight as he used his free hand to harshly grip the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm. He was met with your mischievous smile when his eyes opened once more. “You are gonna be the death of me, girl.”

You wiped a line of spit off your cheek, “Well, I think that’s a great way to go.”

“C’mere.” With a quick chuckle, he pulled you into his lap and kissed you like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. With your delicate hands on either side of his face, he was suddenly worried about losing you. Not to some criminal or tragic accident, but to his own stupidity. So many times he’d missed out on things that could have been good for him, and he still managed to find the one person who understood him effortlessly. Almost like telepathy, you were both in tune. He knew he couldn’t find that in anyone else — and even if he could, he didn’t want to. He wanted you. He pulled away from you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment as you looked in his eyes, searching for whatever he was feeling. And you found it — the same fear you had, of losing each other. You smiled gently and stroked a thumb across his stubbly cheek. “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

You kissed him once more, moaning as he circled his tongues around yours. His calloused hand slid up your back and into your coils to pull you as close as he could. As you readjusted on his lap, you felt his hard length press through your folds ever so slightly. You let out a loud whine at that, but Frank only shushed you, sliding his hands back down your body. “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, baby. Lift up for me.” You lifted your hips, so Frank could take hold of his dick and drag it through your juices. He pecked you on the cheek when you let out another sigh, giving himself a few strokes before holding the head at your entrance. “Slide down slow, yeah?”

You nodded at his direction, grateful for them as you slowly lowered your hips. You felt the tension in your body roll away as you slid onto his hard cock. Your eyebrows knit together and your nails digging into his shoulders, you could hardly focus on anything besides how completely Frank filled you up. Soon, you’d completely sat down, and Frank was quite literally balls deep inside you. You finally managed to look up at him, “Is this okay?”

“Okay?” Frank scoffed, the rare playful look in his eyes. “I can barely control myself, sweetheart. You’re so fucking tight.”

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as you began to grind into him, “I like when you feel like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Your breath hitched as the head of his cock just barely grazed your G-spot. “Like to remind you it’s okay to feel good.”

At that, Frank couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling you down into a kiss. All teeth and tongue, he squeezed lightly when you pulled away. “You’re so good at that, aren’t ya?” He grunted, feeling your cunt tighten around him. “Taking care of me? You’re too good to me.”

Then, he started to thrust up into you, knocking wind out of you. Your moans were getting louder with every thrust — the only thing you could hear was the wet sound of Frank’s cock sliding in and out of you with his grunts and groans matching his pace. “Frank,” You called out, “Baby, I’m close!”

“You come whenever you want to, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come all over my dick, okay?”

As if on command, the coil in your stomach snapped and white hot pleasure filled you. You buried your face in Frank’s neck as your juices slid down his cock and dripped onto his balls. Then, he lifted your hips just enough to give him space and began to thrust up into you again, fast and hard. Through the loud slaps of skin, he heard you let out a laugh mixed with a moan, the overstimulation too much for your mind to comprehend. “Why do you always do this?” You laughed through a whine as you tightened your grip on the couch behind his head. 

“What can I say?” He groaned as your pussy fluttered around him. “I like making you come.”

He turned his head to suck on the spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You cried out when he placed a bite there at the same time his cock found that sweet patch of euphoria deep inside you. “Was that your spot right there?” He grunted as he repositioned you ever so slightly to ensure that his cock would hit it again. He gave you one hard thrust to make sure, letting out a loud groan when your pussy contracted once more. “I think I found it, baby.” He said teasingly. “Hold onto me.”

From there, you were along for the ride. In and out, in and out, his dick slammed into your G-spot over and over, pushing you closer to the edge. Frank was getting close, too. With your body pressed against his and your hot, wet cunt tightening with every other thrust, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But even as he felt his balls begin to tighten as they slapped up against your ass, he was only thinking about how to give you the best orgasm. 

In less than a second, he had one hand on the nape of your neck, lightly squeezing on those pressure points that made your vision hazy in the best way. His other hand snuck between your bodies and began rubbing small, tight circles into your clit. All the while, his thrusts never let up. The white-hot pleasure was surrounding you from all sides, and you knew it would all bubble over in a matter of moments. 

Frank turned his head to whisper in your ear. “I need you to come for me one last time, sweetheart. You can do that for me, right?” He circled your clit faster when you nodded, letting out a loud whine. “Atta girl. Just be a good girl and let that pussy grip my cock, alright? Then I’ll fill you up just how you like it.”

It only took one, two, three more thrusts before you were falling off the edge. Harder than all your previous orgasms, your entire body was trembling. You heard Frank’s whispers of praise, but all you could focus on was the way his cock twitched inside of you. You used what little energy you had left to squeeze your cunt around him one last time, pulling Frank over the edge with you. His deep grunts and groans were music to your ears as he thrusted all his come into you, hard and slow. 

Then, he lowered your hips slowly so you could rest your legs and sit in his lap. You rested on Frank’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you, absentmindedly tracing shapes into your back as you both caught your breath. Every now and then, your pussy would flutter with aftershocks of your last orgasm, making Frank hold back a few groans. With your hands around his neck as played with the little hairs at the base, you turned your head to look at him. “How are your stitches?”

“Surprisingly sturdy.” He replied with a short, exhausted laugh. “Thanks, doc.”

“Anytime.”

Frank let his head rest on the back of the couch as he turned to look you in the eye. “Y’know what, sweetheart?”

“What?”

“We should get married.”

“Right now?” 

“Right now. I know a guy.”

A smile spread across your lips. “We should probably shower first. I don’t want to be stinky in our wedding pictures.”

“Who said there’ll be pictures?”

“There will be pictures if I have to take them myself.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. As long as I can make you mine.”

You traced a small heart on his cheek. “I’m already yours, Frank Castle. Forever and always.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 19 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader and Spencer share the night together following her doctor’s appointment. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, daddy kink, Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), spitting kink, unprotected sex (creampie), vague mention of subdrop, aftercare included Word Count: 6.2k

MASTERLIST

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There was something about the BAU bullpen that felt like another world. The open layout and the way it could shift from frantic rushing to bored silence in seconds sometimes made me feel like I was the most normal person contained within its walls. It was a rare sight, to see me there, and for good reason. I didn’t like to be there, considering most of my time there had been spent being questioned about homicide.

But it wasn’t like that, not that morning. I’d finished my doctor’s appointment early enough that I could hopefully locate the elusive Dr. Reid before he took off for lunch. And sure enough, just as I excitedly bounced over to his desk, I heard the ever-excited, yet comforting squeak of my boyfriend as he returned with a freshly poured cup of coffee.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he practically yelled through a smile, rushing over to drop the mug on his desk. He couldn’t do it fast enough and barely made it. Once the mug was barely safe on the desk, his arms raced to wrap around me.

I giggled at the enthusiasm, considering it’d only been a couple hours since I saw him. But I was ecstatic to be with him and share the news I’d tucked away to keep safe on the way over. It was too much to bear by myself for long, and I knew he would be happy to help carry the load.

“I finished my appointment early and since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to come see my boyfriend and give him the good news in person.” I explained. Spencer eyed me cautiously, careful not to get too far ahead of himself. I looked back with what I’d hoped was a cheeky grin, but I had a feeling it just turned into a goofy, toothy grin. Just as Spencer figured it out and his eyebrows shot up, another voice joined us.

“Mia stellina!” Rossi boomed, the bass carrying through the room like it always seemed to. It was the kind of joyful exclamation that demanded your attention, no matter how dark the circumstances surrounding you were. I knew that from personal experience.

I laughed again as he enveloped both me and Spencer in a hug that the latter only kind-of-sort-of cringed away from.

“Reid didn’t tell us that you were coming in today! I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I snorted at the implication, stepping back to buy back my breathing space. “You’re never a bother, Rossi.” And I meant it, even if he had just interrupted mine and Spencer’s very important conversation. I could table it for a moment, though. There hadn’t been many chances for me to talk to Rossi since the hospital. Although he'd visited less frequently than Derek or Hotch, he'd still come by often enough for me to miss him. He was, by far, the most unique member of the team. People always assumed it would be Penelope, but I stuck with my contention that it’s the quieter ones you have to keep an eye on. Not that Rossi didn’t love to talk, and especially when it granted him the ability to name-drop.

“This is why I like you,” he casually reminded, waving off a slightly offended Spencer on his side. “And I trust that Reid already told you about the plans for next weekend.”

As soon as I turned to look at Spencer, he immediately looked away.

Luckily, Rossi wasn’t obtuse and quickly recognized the display of guilt. “I stand corrected.”

“What plans?” I butted in before either of them could speak. Spencer grimaced at the monotone, as he was fully aware of the level of annoyed it signaled.

“I told him to extend you an invite to the next family dinner, but it seems like he’s selfishly planning on keeping you all to himself.” Rossi’s playful tone was his way of requesting I give Spencer a break, but I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness just yet. After spending months trapped in my bed, I was always looking for an excuse to talk to anyone that wasn’t my roommate. And when it came to the team... I mean, they were like his family. It made sense I wanted their approval, right? Or was I really, honestly just seeking the approval of men like Hotch and Rossi because of my “daddy issues?” And oh, god, I didn’t want to delve into that psychology.

“How rude,” I deadpanned, instead, elbowing Spencer’s side just enough to elicit a pained exhale and an explanation.

“I was going to tell her. I was just waiting until we actually knew when it was going to happen.”

“He’s lying,” I told Rossi, earning a very adamant, denial from Spencer in the process that I brushed off. We both did. The pout that immediately followed was harder to ignore, but I could be strong.

Honestly, it was just funny to see him in this environment. When he was alone with me, he was usually the one in charge, but at work, Spencer was hardly that. It was the only chance I had to tease the ever living shit out of him with little chance of immediate consequences.

“Yeah, he’s lying,” Rossi easily deduced, waving a dismissive hand at Spencer before continuing, “But luckily, you were here. And whenever it happens, I hope that you’ll be there, too. It’s important for you to have a chance to socialize with us outside of the job.”

I smiled, finally looping my arm around Spencer’s to hopefully ease the pain caused by being ignored. Rossi, however, didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength, considering he gave another quick quip. “Hopefully you’ll bring the kid with you,” he teased as he turned away, pointing to the notably older and larger man at my side.

“How am I the kid in this scenario?” Spencer muttered under his breath, the pout still on his face, and still just as cute.

“Will do, Rossi,” I happily chirped.

“Thank you, stellina.” Rossi said with a wink, casually bringing both hands to his lips to blow each of us a kiss.

Once Rossi was fully out of earshot, Spencer sighed in resignation. He had complained before about the fact that the team had immediately felt comfortable with me, contrary to his own experience. But of course, it wasn’t fair to compare. I'd come into their lives piggybacking on their close relationship with him. Spencer didn’t see it that way, though.

“Why do you get a nickname?” he grumbled, dropping his head to the side to rest atop mine.

I didn’t let him rest there long, pushing him back away from me so that I could stand before him again. With my fingers under my chin, I flashed the brightest smile I could while dramatically emphasizing, “Because I’m a little star.”

Spencer looked down at me with a gentle adoration, his hand coming up to brush over my cheek. My face followed after him, desperate for any contact he could offer in the sterile environment. It didn’t really make much sense how touch starved I was; it wasn’t like he hadn’t touched me over the past couple months. Or even that he'd touched me any less-- if anything, it had been more.

But then again, how could I ever get enough? I was certain Spencer would call me spoiled, and in many ways, I was, but I didn’t care. If I could find a way to bottle up the way I felt when he held me, I would. Lord knows there were so many times when I'd needed it and he wasn’t there. I wouldn’t ever admit that to him, though. What would be the point?

He couldn’t always be there. Sometimes he would have to leave. 

Unaware of the dramatic monologue in my head, my boyfriend sighed. His lips pursed again while he watched my eyes soften the longer that he held my face. “You certainly are little,” he concluded. I knew he wanted to say more but feared doing so might lead the conversation down a path less suited for work. Although, what I had planned wasn’t exactly work appropriate, either.

“You know we’re definitely going, right?” I replied, peeking my tongue out from behind my lips.

With a loud groan, he took his hand back like the question had burned him. “Fine,” he conceded before quickly shifting the conversation, “but I’m more interested in what you came here to tell me. How did your appointment go?”

“It went very well. I got wonderful news,” I beamed. There were many idiosyncrasies of Dr. Spencer Reid that I absolutely adored, but one of my favorites happened to be the one where his eyebrows jumped halfway up his forehead, his eyes going wide with a curious glint. Just like they did then.

“Does this news mean you’ll be staying at my place tonight?”

“It can…” As I spoke, I wrapped both of my arms around his arm and pulled him down to whisper in his ear, “unless you want to take a long lunch break and get a head start.”

“Someone’s eager,” he replied with a snort that didn’t sound nearly as promising as I’d hoped.

“Can you blame me?”

Before I could sulk too hard, he poked me on the forehead and chuckled at the resistance I gave to the action. “Lunch, unfortunately, would not give me enough time for what I want to do to you,” he practically purred in a barely-there whisper against my ear. “When I get home, I want to find you on my bed with nothing on. Do you understand me, little girl?”

“Yes.” I had to stop myself from making too much noise, but a pathetic whimper slipped out before I could stop it.

“Good girl,” he whispered with his retreat, “I’ll see you then.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for the hours to pass me by. I couldn’t stay at the BAU for long, recognizing a sudden shift of energy as JJ began rushing them into the office right before I left. At first, I thought it was a case, but Spencer assured me it wasn’t. He promised me that he would be home that night, and that I didn’t need to worry.

But the hours did not fly by; they took their sweet fucking time. I didn’t even bother waiting in the bed for most of them. I honestly spent nearly 8 of them rifling through the shelves in his living room, looking for a book that was both from this century and actually in English.

After I’d rifled through his cupboards and realized that he didn’t have any food, I went to the grocery store and bought food, returned, unloaded the bags, cooked and ate dinner before I came to one simple conclusion:

Spencer Reid was a filthy goddamn liar.

That was my admittedly grumpy thought when I finally crawled into his still empty bed in his even lonelier apartment. His pillow smelled enough like him that I could hug it and pretend that I wasn’t waiting for someone who was probably not going to come back anytime soon. I thought about going home, but I decided being lonely in his bed was better than being alone in my own.

My temper tantrum  kept my face sulkily buried in his pillow, so when my phone started to ring, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t notice much of anything, and before I knew it, I’d drifted off into a world where Spencer could keep his promises because his job didn’t suck.

Of course, even in my sadness my mind drifted to other memories spent there. I’d fallen back into the loop of memories of the last time we were together. I could almost feel his breath against my thighs and his hands raking over my hips. And like it always seemed to, reality and fantasy began to blur. Spencer’s hand on my thigh felt so hot, I was burning beneath it. My whole body tensed, my back arching in the hopes of finding him.

I wasn’t sure which woke me first, the low, gentle chuckle, or the whisper in my ear.

“Maybe I should change your nickname to Aurora.”

I sat up before I even registered the words. Reacting to his voice alone, my arms were already around him and dragging him back down before he could say anything else.

“You’re home!” I shouted, groggy but happy to not be alone. If I’d looked at the clock, I would have seen the hands pointing to the early hours of the next day, but it hardly mattered anymore. All that mattered to me was that he was there, in my arms.

“I guess it’s my fault for not specifying that you should be awake when I got home.”

Answering him with a sloppy, sleepy kiss on the lips, I relished the way he couldn’t stop himself from laughing through it. “I’m awake now,” I answered with a very poorly timed yawn. It luckily didn’t dissuade him, and his hands quickly worked up over my hips and beneath the sheer negligee I’d worn to bed hours earlier. 

“What’s this? I could have sworn my instructions were to not wear anything,” he chastised with a smile.

“I don’t follow instructions. You already knew that,” I mumbled back. It wasn’t until I ran my hands through his hair that I realized that he’d already stripped down to nothing before waking me up.

How considerate.

His curls seemed so much longer than before, and the movements seemed to distract him enough to grant me some mercy. We both knew why I didn’t want to be naked yet. And it really was a ‘yet.’ I truly believed that I’d eventually be able to own my body again, but that point just seemed so far in the future. Spencer didn’t want to push it. Not that night.

“I’ll let it slide this time.” He shared the words with kisses over my jaw and neck, his hands growing hungrier by the second. They skipped straight from my hips to my chest, grabbing hold of my breasts through the thin fabric. He was almost out of breath already when he murmured, “Before we do anything, you have to promise me you’ll stop me if it hurts.”

“I know, Spencer,” I droned, but he kept going.

“I mean it. Any sign of discomfort, you have to tell me.”

“I know!” I shouted with a laugh, struggling to push him away while he continued to cling to me. Finally having managed to do it, I promptly fell back onto the pillow. As I rolled my body over to lay flat, I managed to grab hold well enough that I could pull him over top of me. “Don’t ruin the mood!”

He stopped to admire the sight before him. All I could see, though, was the way he looked at me. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, and I wondered what he saw when he looked at me like that. He looked at me like he loved me so much he wanted to break me. I wished he would.

“How could I ruin anything when you look so fucking perfect laid out in my bed for me?” He growled, his nails dragging over the sensitive skin of my chest.

I couldn’t tell if it was his intention or some kind of Freudian slip, but I was reminded of the day I marred his chest with a necklace-shaped mark in a very similar fashion. The memory made me giggle. “I’m not so innocent.” The understatement of the century.

“Maybe not, but there are still a lot of things I’ve yet to show you.”

I was waiting for the but. I knew it was coming.

“But for now, we’re going to go slow.”

And there it was. I thought to myself how ridiculously unfair it was that having a good boyfriend meant actually being able to rely on them to take care of you. Even armed with the knowledge of my masochistic tendencies, Spencer was too scared to seriously hurt me. Thankfully, though, he wasn’t scared enough to stop him from sliding his hand up my thigh and slipping his finger into my drenched heat.

“The question is how slow?” he teased, recognizing from the rocking of my hips that I was more than prepared to have him then. “How much should I torture you, little girl?”

“Please,” was the only word I could whine at first, but I still saw too much restraint in his eyes. I knew that if I didn’t convince him now, I might be there for hours before he gave me what I wanted. It wasn’t the worst idea, but judging by his already bloodshot eyes, I figured I might as well speed things along.

“Please, daddy,” I whimpered much louder, tilting my hips up to present myself to him. I could feel his erection pressed against me, his palm pressing down as he struggled to decide if he even wanted to keep me in place. I could see that desire to destroy me return to his eye with a vengeance. He knew that I was challenging him, but then again, when did I not?

“Take care of me,” I begged. That was the way I succeeded in breaking Spencer; in turn, he would break me.

He grabbed my legs so quickly and roughly that I was almost dizzy with it. Wrapping them around his own hips, he lined himself up and began dragging the head of his cock over my sex. Low and wildly shaking, Spencer’s words were only barely audible over the sound of the blood rushing in my veins.

“Are you ready?” he asked, like my answer would ever change.

“Yes!” I shouted, nodding like my words wouldn’t be enough.

Spencer had barely waited for the confirmation. Inch by inch, he slowly stretched me open like it was the very first time he touched me. His movements were so precise, so gentle and undoubtedly tender, that I thought I might actually cry.

I had almost forgotten what it felt like when he touched me like that. I would never admit it to him, but with every passing second, I could feel the love rushing back to me. That connection that had felt strained was reinforced and reasserted.

He just felt so fucking good. And apparently, Spencer had similar thoughts in mind.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his head falling forward to knock our foreheads together. There was clearly so much effort going into not hurting me that I just found myself hoping he was still enjoying it. That train of thought made it more difficult when his next question came. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it feels so fucking good,” I sobbed, and it was the truth. My hips, though already growing tired thanks to the months of disuse, struggled to try and take more of him. And even when he was fully inside me, I still cried out to him. “Please, Spencer!”

“Be patient,” he said with a grunt, his hips pulling back just enough for him to slam into me with more force. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

The words made a swarm of butterflies burst through my lower half that already felt so full with him. The statement just sounded so perfectly selfish in a way I’d been dying to feel for months. I wanted him to reap the rewards he’d so obviously earned. I wanted to give them to him, really, but I just couldn’t make it too easy. It wasn’t our style.

“So it’s not about taking care of me anymore, is it?” I pouted, although my lips quickly parted again as Spencer increased his pace in response.

“Are you not satisfied, little girl?” he teased, reaching up with one hand to wrap around my hair, forcing my head back among the pillows while he started to drive into me at a reckless pace. “Do you need me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes!” I yelled, my hands reaching for him, digging into his skin and bringing him closer to me. “I want it. Give it to me.”

Whether he sensed the desperation in my voice or simply couldn’t hold it back any longer, Spencer showed an uncharacteristic level of mercy on me. He barely protested at all before giving into my demands. Holding my head back in that same craned position, he laid sloppy kisses over my throat before whispering, “My little girl gets whatever she wants.”

There were no more words on my mind besides his name, which I recited over and over like a prayer. Each time he filled me, my eyes could barely stay open and my lips were nearly bruised from my constant biting. It was easy to forget that the rest of the world existed— that it was past midnight on a weeknight and everyone in the surrounding apartments would probably fucking hate us.

But Spencer didn’t seem to care either. Well, that’s a misstatement. Spencer definitely cared about my volume, but he didn’t care about other people not being able to hear it. He made that quite clear when he gripped my lower jaw in one hand and pulled it down, forcing my mouth open for him.

He had that look in his eyes again. The one that told me there were entire worlds in his mind that I hadn’t seen. Deeply hidden desires lurking just under the rippling surface. I wondered how far they went and just how much Spencer would hurt me if I could convince him to.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered through clenched teeth, his jaw tensed and eyes still burning. There was a hurricane happening behind those hazel rings, and I wanted him to let it out.

I didn’t know how to ask him to do that; to convince him to break me even while I lay before him already broken and barely keeping it together. I did the only thing I could think to do with his hand still holding my mouth open to him and presented my tongue to him.

Spencer tried to remain composed and stoic as ever, but his body betrayed in him the same way it always did. His eyes. From the second they flickered down to see what I was asking for, his pupils blew out and swallowed the comforting toffee color of his irises.

With an even darker tone, Spencer chuckled, “You’re a filthy, greedy bitch.”

It’s hard to explain how much the words filled every part of my body. The way goosebumps rippled over my skin and an undeniable, almost unbearable heat burned at my face. It only got worse when Spencer finally did as I asked, gathering the saliva in his mouth just to drop it into my own.

The second it hit my tongue, I felt so irrefutably his that I was high with it. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I swallowed between hungry gasps for air. And when it was over, I presented my tongue to him again.

I did so good, sir. Please tell me that I’m good, sir.

There were no words, but Spencer praised me in his actions. He lowered his mouth to mine, his tongue sliding against mine until our mouths were connected in the basest manner. For all the destructive power he held, he kissed me so softly. He still kissed me like he loved me.

Neither of us lasted much longer. Spencer’s hand slid from my jaw to rest on my neck, and a moan tore through my chest. Even though he applied no pressure, the casual reminder of what he could do to me was all that I needed. I lost myself in the bliss of him, my hands tangled in his hair and holding his mouth against mine even when I couldn’t kiss him anymore.

His eyes watched me, still covered in the blackness of his pupils and that animalistic desire to claim me however possible. I watched those eyes the entire time I came, wanting to both grant him the submission he deserved while also selfishly wanting to see the control I had over him, too.

Spencer kept his eyes open as he followed after me, unable to resist the calling of my body, begging him to mark, use, and fill it however he pleased. I watched his eyes roll back ever so slightly, his breath hitching as he pulsed inside me in tandem with my walls that held onto him for dear life.

I was his. I'd known that before, but how easily I’d forgotten. How quickly I’d let some stranger and some lead lay claim to me and make me believe that I could be anything but Spencer’s beautiful little girl.

When all semblance of fight left our bodies, Spencer still managed not to collapse on top of me. Apparently not even me letting him spit in my mouth was enough to convince him I was alright. I wrapped my arms around him and tugged him down on top of me, feeling the comfortable weight of him holding my chest down to more manageable breaths.

That was all there was for a while; our heavy breath breezing over sweat-covered skin as we lay tangled together under the sheets. I soaked in the feeling of slightly uncomfortable bliss, enjoying the way that we didn’t care if it wasn’t perfect because it felt close enough to us.

“I missed this,” Spencer said under his breath. It was a rare showing of selfish honesty— the first time he’d admitted to me that he had been having to hold part of himself back for months. He hadn’t been able to love me like he wanted, either. He might have been worried that I would take it the wrong way, but in reality, I had never felt so relieved to hear it.

“Me too.” I returned, trying to assuage his guilt as much as I could. I knew it wouldn’t do much, but I needed him to understand how grateful I was to share the moment with him.

Then again… They do say that laughter is the best medicine. So with a bit of a giggle, I mumbled, “Not so much the next part, but this one, yeah.”

With a small, sleepy chuckle, Spencer slurred against the pillow, “You’re such a romantic.”

“Says the asshole who doesn’t have to get up,” I reminded him. I struggled to move underneath him as he seemed to drop even more dead weight on top of me.

Like I said: Asshole.

“I wish you didn’t have to get up. I don’t want to let you go yet.”

I rolled my eyes, continuing to push at his stubborn shoulders while huffing back, “It’ll only be a few minutes, Spencer. The bathroom is right there.”

Nuzzling his face into my neck, he mumbled back, “Too long.”

“I can never tell if you’re more of an old man or a big baby.”

“I don’t know, let’s stay here and talk about it for a long time,” he answered with a laugh. I hated the fact that I laughed too, my attempts to shove him off finally ceasing. He pulled his head back, looking at me with all the love in the world.

I wasn’t ready for him to look at me like that. I couldn’t explain why, but the idea of him loving me still felt so terrifying. That fear was compounded by the realization that he might see it.

“Get up, idiot,” I replied to hide that emotion. It also helped to distract me from my own thoughts, and I ended up biting on my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. It didn’t work.

“You’re so mean to me,” Spencer whined as he slowly removed himself with a small grunt.

“Only when you deserve it.”

Normally I would have eagerly gotten up myself, but I realized then just how painful it was to move. Spencer watched me with a massive, overwhelming guilt that formed before I could even think of how to prevent it. I decided it wasn’t worth it to try. It wouldn’t work. I just let him guide my legs off the bed so that I could shakily stand and shuffle off to the bathroom.

The best part about the time alone was being able to pull myself together and massage the angry scar tissue.

It won’t always be like this, I reminded myself, we can be beautiful again without it hurting.

That was the pep talk, anyway. It was the thing that got me back into the room and under the covers. Curling up by his side was like nature’s medicine. All of my muscles relaxed against him... until he turned around and ruined the perfect comfortable position.

Groaning in the least attractive manner, I pouted the entire time we readjusted. But despite my protests, Spencer looked as happy and comfortable as ever. Plopping my head back down on the pillow, I narrowed my eyes at his contemplation.

“What?”

“L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle,” he answered, which really only led to my confused face shifting to confused and incredibly turned on again. But one word in particular sounded familiar, as reminded by Rossi earlier in the day. Or rather, the day before.

“I recognize that last word. What are you saying about me, Dr. Reid?”

“It’s the final line in Divina Commedia by Dante Alighieri.” He was doing that cryptic thing again, having apparently not learned his lesson that I would always beat the answer out of him eventually, one way or another

Through a yawn, I mumbled, “What is that, Dante’s Inferno?”

“Well, Inferno is the first section, but I’m quoting Paradiso, which is the third and final installment of the overall work.” And apparently, he was also doing that thing where he taught me really interesting new things when I definitely did not have the brain capacity to understand or retain the information. We both knew I would have to Google it later, so there was no point in lingering.

“Okay, so what does it mean?”

Spencer paused, his gaze sweeping back and forth across my face like he was searching for the proper translation. Like the real answer he sought was something that could only be seen by his eyes. Eventually, he settled on a simpler and equally romantic response.

“It’s the way he describes the piece of Heaven he saw.”

But that still wasn’t good enough for my constantly curious self. It might have been the brat in me, but it was almost like he was avoiding the direct translation. Like I wasn’t smart enough to come to my own conclusion about it. “I’m going to keep asking until you answer me,” I droned, more reminiscent of a nagging two year old rather than a twenty year old. 

“Spoiled,” he remarked, lightly tapping on my nose before he sighed. “It means ‘the love which moves the sun and the other stars.’”

I thought about the words for a minute. Or rather, I thought about trying to think about the words. Unfortunately, my exhaustion and blissed-out brain got the better of me, and the beautiful words whispered, in English this time, went in one ear and out the other. Spencer was giving me a smug little smile, like he could see my cluelessness written on my face.

“I like the Heaven explanation better,” I sneered, trying not to let him win this one just yet. But it was obvious from the way his smile grew that he’d already won. 

“Yeah, I knew you would. You just had to keep asking.”

Snaking my hand around his waist, I pulled myself flush against him. “I’m a very curious kitten, Dr. Reid,” I purred, gently rubbing our noses together in a very successful attempt to distract him from gloating. 

And in a brief flash of self-awareness, I realized how utterly normal I felt. It wasn’t just average; unlike the domestic moments we’d shared over the recovery, this one felt so... natural. There was nothing foreign about his hand on the small of my back, and the rhythm his fingertips tapped felt like a lullaby I’d heard a million times before.

“I wouldn’t want you any other way,” Spencer whispered, breaking me from the brief aside and back into the present. 

“I’m pretty sure you’d have me in any form.” I didn’t laugh yet, but once Spencer joined in, there was no hope left for me.

“Yeah, probably, but you don’t have to point it out!” he whined.

I watched as the color started to form on his face, first starting with his ears and nose before spreading out across his cheeks. That blush, still visible in the dim light, was still one of the most beautiful things in the world to me. I never tired of it. Paired with his embarrassed giggles mingled with my own, I felt the undeniable and overwhelming emotion that could only be described as ‘love.’

When the laughter finally ceased, it was just the two of us in silence again, although now we were so close together that we might as well have been one person. It felt that way sometimes. Not like one might think— it was not the supposedly romantic but strangely depressing idea that we aren’t whole without another. It was more like knowing that I would never be more myself than I was when I was in his arms.

Comfortable. Safe. At home.

“Spencer?” I spoke before he could fully close his eyes that he somehow kept open for me. 

“What’s up?”

“Thank you.”

That seemed to wake him up, which was not at all my intention. In fact, I'd hoped he wouldn’t respond at all and let the words stand. But he must have heard the hidden message behind it, the fear that all good things must come to an end.

“For what?” he asked. His hand on my back started to make soothing strokes under the negligee, reasserting his presence with me.

I considered answering. I thought about word vomiting all of my fears of inadequacy and broken promises and a future of settling for me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t ruin the moment with such stupid things. The feelings would pass with enough time, right? I didn’t want to bother him with it. I didn’t even know if the problems were problems at all.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m happy and I love you,” I said, instead.

Spencer still saw that I was hiding something, but we were both too tired to push it. We could always talk about it in the morning if we remembered, which I was hoping we wouldn’t.

“I wish I could help you understand how much I love you,” he murmured, removing his hand from my back to trace my jaw. “I can tell you that I want to marry you and raise a family with you but… I don’t think it’s enough.

My stomach immediately dropped. It fell so hard that I actually flinched from his hand, my face twisting into an even more obvious grimace. If my hope was for Spencer to sleep, I’d made a grave error. He immediately shot up onto his arm, cupping my face and inspecting my eyes for any persisting sign of pain.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, his eyes bouncing back and forth between my stomach and eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing is wrong!” I squeaked, my hands flying to his shoulders to pull him back down. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Our eyes locked in a challenge; a silent back and forth of wills and pleas. And eventually, Spencer started to lower back on the pillow. He’d let me win this one.

“It is past your bedtime,” he said with only a whisper of defeat in his voice.

“It’s past every normal human being’s bedtime, Spencer,” I said before turning away from him in the hope that it would make that concern in his eyes hurt less. It didn’t.

“And you think I’m the old man,” he joked back, snuggling up behind me and sighing into my neck as his hand rested on my hip. “Goodnight, little girl.”

So soon after he spoke, he was already asleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so simple for me. Even in his sleep, Spencer’s hands found their way to my stomach. His fingers spread over the expanse of skin like the scars didn’t exist at all. Like it was just as perfect a placement for him to hold onto me as it ever was before. Spencer had a tendency to hold me with so much love that I no longer felt capable of containing it.

It was... suffocating. It took my mind back to images of his blood soaked hands in much of the same position. His hands felt foreign again, and I felt even further away. Like Spencer wasn’t actually there, and neither was I. All that he was holding onto was memory instead of me.

He said he loved me, but he didn’t say why. The only answers my mind would consider were things that had already died months ago. Things that his hands and kisses couldn't fix.

I couldn’t ask him why. I was too afraid of the answer.

 —————————————————

| Part 20 |

[squidproquoclarice]

Yeehawgust Day 26: Vultures Circling

August 1870

Gerhardt’s Pass, Oregon

Beatrice wasn’t sure whether it had been one day or two since the doctor had come.  She’d seen the look in his eyes, heard the hushed tones with which he murmured to Lyle over in the corner, and with Lyle cursing as he left the wagon and the pallet where she lay, she’d known what she already felt deep in her bones.  

The fever and the pain that had once consumed her had faded, felt now at some peculiar remove like hearing music from another room.  It would all be over soon, and that was a relief.  The vultures might be circling, so to speak, and she’d seen so many of them in the five years since they’d arrived in America.  She felt them watching her now just at the edge of her vision, not certain whether they were real or phantoms, and not certain whether it mattered.  Exhausted as she was, she could only accept it.  This was her end.

A part of her wondered whether she had caused this by her thoughts.  The nervousness and sometimes despair over being pregnant again, worrying what she would do.  David and Arthur both had readily crossed Lyle’s temper, for all David had been just a baby yet when he died.  Having lost two already, she knew the signs.  But this time, the bleeding hadn’t stopped.  Maybe it was being four months along this time that had done it.

We go together then, you and me, she thought towards that child that would never be, now finally able to offer them nothing but love and tenderness rather than having it mingled so heavily with trepidation and fear.  Perhaps we shall see David, and your other brothers or sisters.

But peaceful as that notion was, that still left Arthur.  He’d be alone with Lyle after this.  Lyle had gone to town hours ago, awkwardly grunting something about getting supplies.  She suspected it was only that he couldn’t sit here and watch her die, and that he’d be at the saloon nursing his sorrow.  Hard-handed and angry as he sometimes was, there was a peculiar vulnerable and tender streak in him all the same.  She was only thankful Lyle had taken Arthur with him.  He’d chased Arthur off most of the time since Beatrice took to bed, growling for him to go find something useful to do.  Sparing him the experience of it, she supposed.  She thanked him for that.  

She’d managed to talk to Arthur last night, though, when he’d crept in after Lyle went to sleep.  Given him the portrait of her taken earlier that year in Wyoming, and showed him the papers she’d hidden behind it.  Papers neither of them could read, but papers that would hopefully be the key to a better future all the same.  The ones that officially made him an American boy, not just another immigrant child.  He would belong here.  He already sounded far more American than Welsh, and she was grateful for that.  She could only hope he’d have the chances she’d wanted for him, even if she wouldn’t be here to see it.      

In the end, that was all she could do for him.  It seemed so little, and she was afraid for him all the same.

Hearing the creak of someone climbing in the wagon, she couldn’t help her surprise.  Lyle had come back so soon?  No, that couldn’t be.  But she heard footsteps approaching, and she heard the scrape of glass and the hiss of a match, saw the brightening behind her closed eyes as someone lit the lantern that had gone out awhile ago.  It hadn’t mattered to her, but now that there was light again, she opened her eyes to look at who had come to call.

She didn’t know either of them by sight, fair-haired and well past her own twenty-eight years. Neighbors?  No, they were far from anyone.  Lyle had made certain of it.  Who else would simply climb up into the wagon like this?  KInd strangers, perhaps.  “Are you looking for Lyle?”  It always seemed to come down to that.  She closed her eyes again.  “He isn’t here just now, and I’m sorry for whatever he’s done, but I’m afraid we don’t have much for the taking.”  Money ran through her man’s fingers like water, fast as his quicksilver dreams of riches.

“Should we...”  The woman spoke, her voice soft. 

She was too tired for this.  “Are you missionaries, then?  I suppose the saving of a soul becomes even more important at the very end.  There’s no need of that.  I’ve made what peace I might with my God, I assure you.”  Even if she’d come so far from the girl who’d attended chapel so faithfully back in Aberdare.

The man finally spoke up, his deep voice low and gentle.  “No.  You don’t need to worry about missionaries.”  The words in Welsh, no less, and the familiar lilt of it lifted her spirits in spite of herself.  “Mam, it’s me.  It’s Arthur.”

Now that snapped her to attention, and she opened her eyes, finding she had some fury to spare yet for someone who’d tease her like this as she lay there dying.  But she saw those eyes looking at her with a sad, knowing tenderness--that familiar blue-tinted green, the eyes she saw whenever she chanced to have a mirror.  The ones she saw too every day in her boy, her Arthur.  His hair--it was dusted with grey, yes, but the same dark blond as hers.  Lyle’s brows for certain, and something of the cast of his cheekbones.

Her boy had just turned seven last month, and yet she’d swear he also sat here beside her now, a man of at least forty, perhaps fifty.  She looked at him, and something in her knew him, something deeper than blood and bone, an echo within the soul.  “So you are.”  She didn’t know how it could be so, only that it was.  She drank in the sight of him.  Such a large man, tall and broad.  He hadn’t gotten that from Lyle, perhaps instead from her own father Dylan, such a large man he’d been permanently stooped long before he died from working in the cramped mine tunnels.  Seeing the marks of age on him, the lines etched into his face, and the scars--the small nick on the bridge of his nose, another on his right cheek, and a large one on his chin only somewhat hidden by a short-cropped beard.  Child-Arthur was healing a similar cut on his nose even now, earned by tumbling off the wagon while playing out a week ago, and by the look of it she’d known it would scar, just as it had on this man.  She glanced past him to the woman.  Tawny hair, a riot of freckles, amber eyes, a large scar on her right brow.  Watching Beatrice just as carefully as she was watched.  She asked, speaking in Welsh and managing some good humor, “Well, my boy, who is this you’ve brought with you?”  But she already suspected.

If she hadn’t already believed, that shy smile, that half-lowering of his gaze, would have told her.  “This is my wife.  Sadie.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”  Her Welsh was less polished, her accent more obvious to Beatrice’s ear, but it surprised her all the same to hear it.  Had Arthur taught her?  There were a thousand other questions.

But she licked her lips, needing now to ask the important question: “Why have you come?  And...how?”  She switched back to English for it.  He was an American, her boy, and she would have him be so to her at the end.  She’d fought hard for that.  It was good he hadn’t forgotten his Welshness entirely, but some things needed to be kept close and secret.  She knew that full well. 

“How?  I don’t know for sure.  There’s some red-headed fella named Sinclair who’s gonna have some explanations for this.”  He leaned in, and reached out to take his hand in hers.  A large hand, work-roughened, so unlike the small hand she still took sometimes to hold onto him in crowds and the like.  “Why?  That’s a question that’s got more answers than I know what to do with, really.  Cause I...”  He sighed, shook his head, and the aching look in his eyes told her too much.

“I know there’s no return from this, <i>fy ngwash i</i>.  It’ll be soon enough.  I knew it last night when I gave you those papers.  Did you have the use of them?”

“Sort of.  We ended up in Canada, so uh, proving I was born in Wales actually helped us there.”

“Not America, then?”

“There was better land in Canada.”

“So you’re a farmer?”  She couldn’t help but brighten at that.  She’d wanted something like that for him.  Something peaceful, gentle, nothing like Lyle’s life.

“Horses, mostly.  Some sheep, cattle, and the like.  It’s a good place.  A pretty good life.  And the rest, well…”

“You’d best tell her, Arthur,” Sadie said, her voice full of the twanging accent she’d heard in New Austin and some parts of Texas.  “She’ll see it eventually anyhow.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.  “I reckon you will at that.  It weren’t...all what you hoped for me, Momma.  Daddy ain’t gonna live but another four years past this.  Gets hanged for horse theft in San Francisco just after Christmas.  After that, a lot happened.  And it took me a long time to get things right.”

“Then tell me how it was, son.”  She heard the tone of both inflexible command and gentle invitation in her words, and knew it for the way she spoke to him sometimes as a mother, asking to know the truth of something.  Usually when he’d done some petty mischief or theft that she knew was Lyle’s influence on him.  You must tell me, and perhaps I’ll tell you that it was wrong and why, but I won’t hate you for it.  Because I love you enough to want you to know what’s right.  She saw that conflict in him already, a boy who could steal candy from the store and shrug about it, but who’d come home the next day taking a beating to save a stray cat from being kicked to death by some older boys.

So he told her.  And perhaps it wasn’t the worst she could imagine after hearing Lyle was dead when Arthur was eleven.  But it made for no pretty picture.  Hearing he’d been taken in by criminals, and ones far better and more sophisticated than Lyle could ever be, something broke within her heart.  She’d wanted so much better for him.  But even as he didn’t quite look at her, he kept talking.

He told her of the gang he’d been in, of seeing no other life or future for himself.  Told her of a little boy named Isaac, her first grandchild.  You’ll meet him someday, long before you should.  He’s such a good kid.  I know you’ll love him, and he’ll love you.  Told her of nearly three decades of mistakes and failures after this.  She might have thought it was a life of only regrets, but then he told her of a new life he’d made, of Sadie, of Canada and the children who had lived, grandchildren she would never see: Beatrice, named for her.  Matthew.  Susanna.  Andrew.  

She felt that pull, as if being summoned.  Light fading, like a fire dimmed now beyond embers.  Arthur must have seen it as well, because he stopped telling her about little things, and reached out to take her hand.  Beatrice felt someone else take her other hand--Sadie, then.  “I don’t exactly know how we got here,” he said quietly.  “But I know how it was that day.  I came back with Daddy and you was gone already.  And...that always stayed with me.  That I wasn’t there.  And I know how it is.  Nobody ought to die alone like that.”  There was some kind of knowing weariness to his voice at that, a question she would never be able to ask and he would never be able to answer for her.  “So here we are.”    So much that would be left unsaid, but no matter.  She would see in time.  She would see all of it, and there was comfort to it, because now she knew her boy would be all right in the end.  That he would remember her too, that he loved her.  That put her fear to rest, and so now she could rest.  There were no vultures now, only the final words of love and farewell spoken, and the reassurance of the hands holding hers as everything faded into peace.