#Each of us determining who we r and not making anyone else be anything they aren't and not hurting ppl bc of what we think they should be

[jjsmaybank20]

Hi May I please request, In the season 7 finale of CM, it's reader that is shot by the bank robbers and taken, instead of Will. (JJ reacting the same way, only Reader is her best friend. And when they're in the hospital, R's freaking out to JJ about leaving Henry with Izzy and JJ kisses her to shut her up?) Jennifer Jareau X fem reader.

my first request! hope you like it.

Confessions

Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Reader

Summary: You would do anything to protect JJ. You love her, as more than just your best friend. Problem is, you put your life on the line before you can figure out if she feels the same.

Warnings: Reader gets shot, angst, very slight steaminess at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

navigation   criminal minds masterlist

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It was a bank robbery. Not a common call, but not uncommon enough that you hadn’t been sent to one before. The robbers known as the “Face Cards” have been robbing banks all over the DC area, and this time, you happened to be called to the scene.

You and your partner Tyler were driving around on patrol when your police radio went off, “All units in the vicinity of Penn and Southeast, robbery in progress at Colonial Liberty Bank. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired at the Colonial Liberty Bank. All units.”

Tyler and you looked at each other as you grabbed the radio, turning the steering wheel to make a U-turn, “433 responding,” 

Tyler flicked on the sirens as you started to speed up. The two of you parked around the side of the bank so that they couldn’t escape through the side doors, “Better pull back and see if they respond-” Tyler was interrupted by a shot ringing out and a bullet narrowly missing his head. 

“Shit! Cover!” you yelled. 

The two of you took cover behind the car as you fired at the man who tried shooting Tyler. The bullet ripped through the man’s shirt and went into his shoulder. You watched as another man grabbed him and  pulled him back inside. 

You called for assistance, and went around the side of the bank to see who else had responded. As soon as you rounded the corner, your best friend JJ came running towards you, embracing you in a tight hug, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Tyler over here got pretty lucky,” you said with a smile on your face, patting his back. 

JJ held you out in front of her, scanning you for injuries. You pulled her back into a hug, trying to reassure her that you were fine. “I’m okay, let’s just try catching these guys okay?” you whispered and she nodded letting out a sigh. 

You spent most of the day talking to Chris as you all watched Oliver die. The team's only goal was to get the hostages out of there without anyone getting hurt. “No more feds. I want the cop who killed my brother,” you let out a sigh, placing your head in your hands. As soon as you started talking to Chris, you knew that he would at some point come to this.

You, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch all stood there in the van, “Well, I gotta go to him, don’t I?”

“No, absolutely not!” JJ exclaimed.

You looked at your best friend with a sad smile, “What other choice do we have?”

“Something! Anything else! They will shoot you the second you walk in! Why is that not going through your brain?!” she yelled.

Hotch and Morgan met your eyes, nodded, and then left to give the two of you some space. Once they had gone, you looked at JJ and ran your hands through your hair.

She paced back and forth until you finally grabbed her and pulled her into a powerful hug. You wanted to show her how much you love her and care for her even if you’re about to run into a bank full of robbers who probably want you dead.

Once you pulled away, she noticed the determined look in your eyes, “No, no, no! You can’t do this! What about us? What about Henry?” 

“Four people are dead because I killed his brother,” I whispered. 

You pulled away from your short embrace, walking backwards towards the door of the van, “No please! Please don’t leave me!” she exclaimed, tears running down her face as she slid her back against the wall.

You wanted nothing more than to run up and hold her, and tell her how you truly feel about her, but you knew that this needed to be done. So no one else could die for your mistakes. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have a choice,” you whispered again, “I love you and I love Henry. I love you so, so much. Remember that, always,” 

Hotch. already knowing what you were going to choose, had SWAT members hide behind the cop cars, already pointing their guns inside. You took a deep breath as you started to walk towards the bank. 

You could hear JJ’s screams as you slowly walked towards the bank, “Morgan! Let go of me! Y/N! Y/N stop!” 

You raised your hands up immediately, walking into the bank, “C’mon Chris, you got what you wanted. I’m here. Now please, let them go,” 

“You go,” Chris said, forcing a mom and her children out of there, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you told him. 

There was no response from him as he pointed his gun at you and shot twice. The noise echoing throughout the entire building and outside. JJ collapsed in Morgan’s arms, her eyes widening, “No!” 

The team sat there in the van with JJ. They knew how much she cared about you, as more than a friend, even if she didn’t say it to them. They are a team of profilers, after all. If one wrong thing was said, she could break down right there and then. “Where was she shot?” she asked. Garcia just stared at her with a helpless look in her eyes. “Where was she shot?!” 

“We don’t know,” Garcia muttered. 

JJ couldn’t take it anymore. She punched the wall in frustration. Everyone just stared in shock, unsure of how to comfort her, and not knowing if you were alive, but hoping you would hang on.

Luckily, he didn’t shoot to kill.

As you laid there, you could feel yourself getting weaker. Your shoulder was bleeding out and your vision was going blurry. 

All you could think about was JJ and Henry. The way Henry would run up to you when you’d go over to their house and hug you tightly. 

Or the nights where both you and JJ were off, and you would go to her house, Henry would lie in the middle of you as a movie played. Eventually, Henry would fall asleep cuddled up next to you both. Then you would wrap you arm around the both of you. Once you made sure they were both sleeping soundly, you’d carry them each to bed. 

“I need to cause a distraction while you guys get out of here,” you told the man, who was applying pressure to your wound, “But I need you to tell someone something for me. Tell Agent Jennifer Jereau that I love her so much and I’m so sorry,” 

The rest of the time you spent at the bank was a little fuzzy. You were more focused on trying to get Chris to turn on the woman and trying not to pass out from blood loss. You knew that if you let yourself drift off, it would be over.

Before you knew it there was an explosion and you were getting pushed into a car. The whole car ride, you focused your breathing, trying your hardest to stay awake. 

The only thing keeping you going was JJ. What you would do just to hold her one last time. 

Your thoughts came to an abrupt stop when you arrived at a fire station. The fireman helped patch you up as Izzy had instructed. You watched as she shot him multiple times before sneaking into the firehouse to grab you a change of clothes. 

“You didn’t have to kill him,” you muttered.

“He was a witness, he needed to go,” she shot back without an ounce of remorse. 

She put you back in the car. Everything seemed calm, until Izzy suddenly started opening fire on Chris.

“Detective Y/L/N, take Chris out of the car and get in the passenger seat. We’re going on a little drive,” she told you, the gun pointed straight at you, “Stop here,” she muttered after a little bit.

The backdoor opened to reveal the Joker himself. He was the former Marine who helped keep pressure on your wound. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight before ultimately remaining your composure.

“Hey Y/N!” he patted your wounded shoulder and you tried your absolute hardest not to wince, “Sorry, forgot about that,” 

“Drive,” she said again.

“Where?” 

“Take me to see her son,” Izzy said and you shook your head. Henry wasn’t your son, but you had been there for JJ since day one, and you had been made his Godmother. You had always dreamed of becoming a family with him and JJ. “I said, drive!” 

You took a deep breath in before driving towards JJ’s house. You were tense the entire drive, your knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. You just hoped and prayed to whatever type of God there was that they could keep Henry safe. 

JJ would be able to get over the loss of you, but the loss of Henry. That’s a different kind of loss she’ll never be able to survive. 

You finally parked across the street. You smiled softly at the sight of Henry playing in the front with Miss Kate and her daughter. 

“He’s a cutie,” Izzy told you and your smile quickly faded, “Looks a lot like Jennifer. Where’s the hospitality Y/N? Come on, introduce me!” 

You got out of the car slowly walking up to the house, “Y/N!” Henry yelled, running towards you as he wrapped his arms around your legs. 

You crouched down so his tiny arms can wrap around your neck. “Hey, Buddy!” You held him tight and close, sucking in a deep breath. Just for a moment, you were transported back to one of your favorite parts of the week. Just for a moment, he was safe in your arms.

Until he wasn’t. 

You told Miss Kate that it was okay to go as Izzy followed you into JJ’s home. Once Henry ran off to grab some toys, you turned your head and looked straight at her, “You lay one finger on him and I will kill you!” you say with teeth gritted.

Izzy clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, making a tsk noise, “Now do you remember the deal Y/N? You touch me and both you and Jennifer die. Who’s gonna take care of Henry then?” 

“Y/N! Come play with me!” he exclaimed, running back in.

You crouched down again, ruffling his blonde hair, “I would love to, but I can’t right now buddy. You see, I have to go back to fighting bad guys, okay? Izzy over here is gonna take care of you until your mommy comes home,” you could feel the tears start stinging your eyes as you tried to stop them from falling.

“So you’re gonna be a good boy for Izzy, okay? Listen to everything she says, okay?” you ask him.

“Okay,” he replies innocently. 

“One more thing bud,” you pull him close to you as you hug him tightly, “I know I am not your mom or dad, but I love you so much. Did you know that?” 

He nods and you smile softly, “I will never let anything hurt you. Everything is going to be okay,” 

“Everything will be okay,” he mumbled back, “I love you Y/N,” 

You sniffled, “I love you too, Buddy,” 

You take a deep breath and back away from him. Before you walked out of the house, you looked Izzy dead in the eye, pushing your shoulder against hers on the way out. 

You sung open the car door before slamming it shut, “What the fuck do you want?!” you asked. 

“Woah, easy tiger,” Matthew told you, “You’re going to listen to everything I say. If you even thing about saying no, your boy is as good as gone. Or should I say Jennifer’s boy is as good as gone because he’s not yours. He will never be your own kid,” 

Matthew made you drive to the train station where he dragged you down, chained you to a chair, and strapped a bunch of bombs to your chest.Then he ran, like the coward he is. 

You thought you were a goner. But that didn’t matter to you. All that mattered to you was that Henry was safe. He was stuck with the psychopath that is the “Queen”. 

Just when you thought all hope was lost, Prentiss came running in, “I found Y/N!” 

She ripped the duct tape off your mouth, “Izzy’s got Henry. Forget about me! Make sure Henry’s safe, please!” 

“JJ’s there right now. She’s gonna keep him safe,” Emily tried calming you down, “I’m not leaving your side, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can be with your family,” 

Emily was panicking as she tried to find a way to keep you from blowing up into bits. She punched in one passcode and it beeped, showing that she only had two tries left. 

You shook your head, knowing that in a minute you’ll be gone, and Emily could not be here to be included in the damage.

“Emily, just go. Get everyone out of here,” you pleaded.

She shook her head, “No, I told you you’ll get to be with your family and that’s what’s going to happen. You need to finally tell JJ how you feel. I’m not going to leave you,” 

When she finally unlocked the code, another box opened. 30 seconds flashing and taunting you. This is how long you have left to live. 

“Emily, tell JJ that I love her and that I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Now leave please! There’s still a chance that you could save yourself so go!” you yelled. 

She sat there looking at the wires before out of nowhere without speaking she just cut one, “fuck!” you exclaimed, shutting your eyes.

After a couple seconds, nothing happened. You opened one eye and looked down at the timer. It stopped. You let out a breath and a hollow laugh, leaning your head against the pole.

“Emily, I love you and I love that you’re JJ’s other best friend. But let me just say, I didn't think we’d get this close to where I trust you with my life...literally!” you joked and she let out a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get you to your family,” she told you.

As soon as the bomb squad came to disarm you, you wrapped your arms around Emily, pulling her into a tight hug, “Thank you,” 

“Of course,” 

Then, just as suddenly as the relief had hit, a wave of pain washed over you. “Oh, shit, Y/N! You're bleeding!” Prentiss exclaims, as she sees blood leaking through the bandage on your shoulder and through your shirt. 

“Huh, I guess I am.” You say just before you pass out.

When you wake up, your shoulder is numb. You try to gain your bearings, and when you look down, you see a sleeping figure with her head on your lap. 

“That can’t be comfortable.” You rasp out, trying to clear the pain and the sleep out of your voice. JJ shoots up and pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Ow, ow, ow! Watch the shoulder!” You yelp when she squeezes you a little too hard.

“Sorry, sorry.” She winces. Then she turns around and starts pacing.

“How could you do that to me?! You can’t just run into danger like that. This is how you end up in the hospital with an almost fatal injury! I cannot live without you in this life. You are my best friend and I can’t do this without you.” She yelled.

You laugh dryly. “And there it is. Sometimes I get my hopes up because we flirt, but I guess that's just all in my head. We say I love you to each other all the time, but I mean it so differently than you do. Because it is becoming incredibly clear that you don't feel the same w-” You are cut off when JJ grabs your face and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

“Never say I don’t mean it the same way. Cause I do, I love you so much it makes my heart hurt because I know there is always a chance I will lose you. You are the most beautiful, kind, funny, chaotic person I know, and… I really want to kiss you again.” 

This time, you are the one who pulls her into a kiss. This time, instead of breaking it off, JJ straddles your lap and kisses you deeper. You put your hands on her waist, while she tangles hers in your hair. 

“Woah! We can come back later if we are interrupting something.” Emily exclaims as she walks through the door. You and JJ jump apart, faces bright red.

“Yes, finally! Babygirl! You owe me $20!” Morgan yells to Garcia after striding into the room. JJ hides her face in your neck while you laugh at the team filing into the room.

While an unfortunate circumstance got you two together, you knew that nothing would ever be able to tear you apart.

---

Join my taglist!

[deviantartdramahub]

Before I begin, I just want to say, I've recently been hearing/seeing a lot of instances here where you have the following exchange go on.

Person 1: *explains a situation that happened, using only mildly vagueness*

Person 2: *says something like "wat" or "are you drunk or high" or "come back when it's not jibberish" or "I found the lost ChatGPT", stuff that implies they claim to speak for an audience who they say doesn't understand person 1*

Person 1: "What part don't you understand?"

Person 2: *dodges the question*

Person 1: *speculates more and more about whether people are claiming not to understand them to escape a burden in an argument*

Don't people know there are AI stuff anyone can access that can determine if something would be comprehensible to a modern audience?

There are three kinds actually, 1) a regular AI made specifically for measuring comprehensibility 2) word counters and other autocorrect tools which can tell you if something you're saying is structurally sound, and 3) things like Siri, Cleverbot, and PI, who, by virtue of being inevitably programmed that way, won't respond to you as intended if you aren't being comprehensible (with similar technology made to determine if people have a similar enough speech style as each other to determine if they're one another, with the technology never giving a yes answer because it's false "science" like horoscopes are and thus a stupid question).

Recently I tested this out with specimens and a control group. I repeated the two messages we often talk about here that are most called out for being incomprehensible in all three methods and they turned out to be completely and correctly understood. I then proceeded to put four of the most incomprehensible passages from different political manifestos, two from the Communist manifesto and two from the Libertarian manifesto, and they all were deemed incomprehensible.

The proof is in the pudding, people who claim to not understand someone are just being fallacy-loving babies who can't choose between necessary alternatives, full stop. Or in the very least, understandability should be seen as relative, though I've noticed this has become a problem ever since pot became legal here. Coincidence?

One example anyone can see is a gem from an earlier comment in reply to a certain other gem (and you can probably guess who posted it, wink wink), which inspires me to take back what I said before, with the bots just doing a little exploration and looking out for me based on such non-logic from the other end which is getting more and more tiring. Nevertheless, I continue to get responses in this back-and-forth going on in the form of vagueposts. Responding to these now, with another reminder that simply saying someone is being manipulated into doing something or that someone is a certain gender doesn't make it or anything else true, as an individual is the authority of their own intentions in the same way an individual owns their own body, and (I don't see an Adam's Apple on any pictures presented of being of Tri for one thing, and everything else seems to check out both in her photography which she has a method for and me chatting with her at events, which side note also allows me to confirm her underweight self doesn't qualify to be a sad bloated fish) and that only I've been concerned with alts because you carry a persona in all but name, with Triagonal being more cautious, not that the person I'm addressing has been, or most people (consider people are still outed for merely resembling something Triagonal would sign up as even by the likes of the former second mod of r/DeviantArt who was banned from Reddit by Triagonal which caused her to be banned from r/DeviantArt in delayed fashion), though most people don't have an obsessive nature that drives them to this, especially the kind that has ramped up with the banning of DABewareHub and their senior spokesperson.

Neither of them being new, my response to them is more or less similar, though a more complete version of my message has already been said in my links above. Nobody reading this is some kind of championed dragon slayer because nobody cares enough to idolize you, and people are less recruitable than many give them credit for. And that's how it should be. Club-Dreamiverse, GellyGirl, and Triagonal, in all sites they're in, show every adaptibility and satisfaction in simply being friends with people, unlike the antagonists at play.

You typoed with the "and" and then the parenthesis and didn't notice until I got the second message what you were saying (not that I didn't figure). Extremely small mistakes like these might be what causes big comprehension issues. Which is why it's good to ask about.

[cornfarm]

summertime cicadas

saiki kusuo x reader

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you go to saiki’s place to play some video games. saiki learns a bit about your dirty laundry.

cw: suggestions of past sexual abuse. it’s not explicitly stated but it’s heavily implied.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

reader is gender neutral!

===================================================

notes:

i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a few weeks now, but i was never happy with it.

it’s implied that you and saiki are in week 2-4 of dating;;;

i have some other stuff in the works but im tired so notes r boring today

enjoy waaaaaa

===================================================

When Saiki and you were left alone together, the tension that hung in the air was fun and playful. Coy glances, the heart jittering brushes of skin, and the almost knowing smiles you two would shoot each other. This time around, it was heavy, and it weighed hefty on both your shoulders.

It was your first time over at his place since you had begun dating.

You had texted him: can i come over? i bought a new game i wanna play it with u

He was very happy you decided to make the first move, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. 

Immediately, the “devlivered” at the corner of your text changed to “read”. He hastily typed back: Sure, let me know when you’re here. My parents aren’t home.

You saw letters on your screen, but you squinted your eyes shut upon them entering your field of vision. You had thrown your phone across the room, too nervous to look at his response. Tentatively picking it up, your heart nearly exploded at his words. You quickly respond: okay! be there soon :)

Saiki suddenly felt a bit on edge, realization finally striking him that you were about to be in his presence. In his bedroom. Alone. 

Saiki Kusuo never really felt things too intensely, so to feel it strike at his heart and stomach was almost a bit too much for his liking. 

Saiki wound up sitting patiently at the dining room table, using his telekensis to pick things up, rearrange ornaments and fine china, and clean up trash. The last thing he wants is you coming over when the place is a mess.

The doorbell rang, not that he needed it to know you were here. Beckoning you in, you pull out a small disc box from your bag. 

“I heard really good reviews from it. I was interested in it since I liked the art style but I wanted to wait until people played it and reviews came out before I committed.”

He takes it from your hands to inspect it, “I’m not super interested in recent games, I like older ones a bit more. Indie ones too. I’ve heard that the gameplay is really compelling.”

“That’s okay, we can still play together, right?” You almost look a bit nervous. Saiki gnawed at the inside of his lip.

“Sure,” you don’t look satisfied, “I don’t mind, doing things with you is nice.”

The content expression on your face satisfies him. You follow him upstairs.

Then the tension settles. You’re so close, the pleasant floral scent from your detergent lingering where you walk. He peers behind you as you take in his room: simple, clean, minimalistic. It’s painfully in character. You smile, flopping face down on his bed.

“I’ve only ever been here with everyone else, it was so lively then, but it’s so different when it’s quiet!” You situate yourself so you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, legs dangling off the side.

“It’s the same room.”

“Yeah but, now it’s just me and you.”

“I suppose so.”

You watch as he peers to the wall, a bit away from you.

“What, you’re not nervous are you? Do I make you, THE Saiki Kusuo nervous?”

He clicks his tongue, and begins stalking towards you. He stops right in front of you, shins nearly touching the mattress of his bed. He looks down, expression deadpanned like usual. Perhaps thats precisely why you got so flustered. Your hands coming to clasp politely in your lap, you look up at him, determined to hold eye contact.

“Mhm,” he smirks, “you do. What will you do about it?”

He watches as your lips part into a small ‘o’, before you turn your head down and begin to pout. He’ll spare you this time. The small proximity between you settles in; he should get out of here, nervousness is finally catching up, it’s a bit too much for him to handle. For such a cocky one-liner, he really can’t keep it together. He exits his room for a moment with a brief “wait here”.

He hears you let out a sigh down the hall. Taking the chance to inspect his belongings, you peer under his bed, nothing suspicious there, before making your way to his desk. There’s his computer, a nice leather desk chair, a lamp, and a small empty mug that holds pens, pencils, and highlighters. You thumb through them.

He re-enters his room, quietly opening the door, but just enough so where you hear. Outstreching his arm, he hands you a bottle of iced tea.

“This is,” inspecting the label, “you don’t usually drink these, right?”

Saiki stays quiet.

“So you got it for me? You remembered I liked it?” 

He nods.

You beam at him, mutter your gratitude, and pull out the games box.

Placing the disc onto the disc reader, and pushing it in, you start up the game, and watch the intro animation. 

“Yeah, the graphics are really nice,” he comments.

You adjust yourself, sitting on top a cushion on the floor, he moves a bit closer. 

Skipping though dialog, tutorials, and the first few levels of the game, Saiki controller finally begins responding. 

“I’m sorry, I thought the multiplayer feature would be available from the start.”

“It’s okay, you can pick first”

“Hmm...” you pause, brows furrowing in focus as you look through the different player avatar options. Finally, you turn to him and smile, “this one! Your turn.”

Saiki bites at the inside of his lip, again, moving his thumb over the joystick, he picks his avatar.

It’s nice, it’s quiet, the sound of cicada’s chirping outside his bedroom window, and the soft hum of his fan are gentle. Neither of you are talking about grand things like aspirations and inhibitions, but you didn’t have to. The soft, casual tone of conversation is something Saiki’s making sure to cherish. The game’s fun, Saiki is enjoying himself, he enjoys you. 

But tension still looms heavy overhead. You aren’t the only one who was thinking about it, how close you two were, how your elbows kept bumping, the small,and the way you both tried to get just a millimeter closer.

Saiki knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t pull himself to take initiative. Why? Was nervousness just another curse set out to plague him?

He’s reading your mind, he knows without a doubt you want to, so why is he so nervous to reach out and touch you? He wants to run away.

“Saiki?”

Your voice broke his thoughts, he turns to you. “Are you okay?”

He does it without thinking, slowly placing the controller down and putting his palms on your shoulders. 

“I’m just not used to this,” he finally says, “like, dating and all that.”

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, “that’s okay, I’ve never dated anyone either, we can just take it slow. We have time.” You reassure, “I’m nervous too,” voice smaller than before. He lifts his hands off, hovering them in front of you, debating on where he should put them. Should he put them back on your shoulders, or would that be weird? Maybe it’s okay if he takes your hands into his, but right now your hands are...

His vision finally focuses, and he looks at your hands, defensively positioned in front of your chest with your palms facing him. You’re looking at him with a half smile, but your brows are pursed down. You’re watching him very carefully.

Your thoughts still, pausing until he moves again, taking your hands in his own. He’s confused, why do you look so skittish?

You look visibily confused that he takes your hands. He’s granted one thought:

He’s not gonna do anything, see? He’s just holding my hands, that’s it. He’s not gonna do anything.

Do what? What do you mean? Do what?

“What do you mean?” He blurts out, voice ringing through your head.

Astonishment paints your face. Shit, you didn’t think you said anything out loud. Could he read your mind? He chooses not to say anything.

You shake your arms, he retracts his hands.

“I’ve just had bad experiences with people in the past, I got nervous, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Oh. Your internal dialog isn’t as pleasant as the words you choose to say. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it more in the future,” you still have the strength to smile at him?

He reaches out to touch you again, but never connecting. He hesitates this time, fingers hovering over your forearm. 

“I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff. I wouldn’t do that to you. I won’t do that to you,” he corrects.

With a smile pained with melancholy, you shift yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his shoulder, legs finding their way between his. He wastes no time wrapping his own arms around your back, pressing your chest closer to his own. Your hearts pound against each other, breathing syncing as you both exhale a sigh. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” your voice is muffled. 

You stay like that for a few moments. Cicada’s chirping, fan blowing, there’s nothing to say- the silence is comforting in it’s own way.

You finally pull away from him, voice much brighter, “but I’m not ready to kiss you yet, I think my heart would explode!” He flushes red. Adjusting to sit back onto the cushion, you lean your weight onto his side. He tension has finally settled, and Saiki sighs contently. 

Saiki only uses his powers in ways to convinience himself. Fortunately, keeping you safe was more than convinient to him: it was the bare minimum- an absolute necessity. 

As soon as you leave, he’ll find the bastards that did it. 

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Hi love, pretty sure you're requests are open (if not just ignore this) n e ways what about Inarizaki with manager who's like intimidating (i've been told i am intimidating lol) and very sarcastic, much Tsukishima Kei vibez cuz that's basically me😃

Just like how would our boys react, very curious and take your time btw don't have to rush it, do it whenever you feel like :D

Oh my gosh Nat, it's literally my honour to write this for you. You can request anything, anytime, and you'll be a top priority (ily<3)

Inarizaki with a tsukkishima-ish manager.

Specially dedicated to @sunasthing <3

So first of all, if you think that's gonna stop the boys from simping over you, you've got it wrong 😖🖐️

The boys would literally take it as a challenge to get your softer nature out, especially Atsumu.

I GENUINELY think he'd find it really hot whenever you snap back at him, or tell him off. (maybe he's like Nishinoya and Tanaka in that sense 🙄)

Constantly pesters you, and although you don't give him a reply often (because he's annoying as fuck), if you ever acknowledge him slightly, he WILL flirt with you.

Beware tho, even if he comes off as flirty and charismatic, he's literally just a dorky small baby and genuinely wants your attention because he thinks you're the coolest person ever.

And if you're ever nice to him, you can best bet he'll replay that moment in his mind before sleeping EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

Y/n, earlier that day: don't get hurt. I don't want to have to deal with anyone on this team being injured

Atsumu at 3 a.m: s-she cares about me 🥺🥺

I think Osamu would vibe really well with you. He's not annoying, he's really really chill, and he has a pretty sharp tongue himself.

Judges people as an attempt to make you laugh, and he sees it as a personal victory if he can get you to crack a smile or smirk. He just doesn't make a big deal about it, unlike his twin xD

Osamu: y/n look at that guy. he's totally crushing on his brother's best friend, could he not be more obvious about it??

Y/n: *cracks a smirk* yeah, it does seem so.

Osamu, internally: ✨v i c t o r y i s s w e e t✨

He also cooks for you pretty often, and even if you protest against accepting it, you'll usually find a bento hidden in your locker or bag.

He knows you might not accept it straight, so he finds other ways to get it to you. Osamu actually thinks of you as a cooler sister that he says "he'd trade Atsumu for"

In general, the twins are the life of Inarizaki and although they're sometimes annoying, they mean well and it's plain to see that they love you.

Kita loves how smart and analytical you are. I've said this before, I'll say it again— Kita thinks brains are sexy 😤

Especially when you call the team to give your insights about their opponents, or give them ideas on how to improve their play, Kita is literally there like “I'm so glad she's ours”

Because you would be a dangerous asset to other teams, and Kita is the most thankful that you're with them.

He's also a really good leader and although the two of you don't have heart-to-hearts or conversations like the twins, you know he'll ALWAYS be there for you.

Like once, it was raining and practice was cancelled, so you decided to wait in school until the rain subsided (because you didn't want to get wet), and our sweet Kita searched for you in every single classroom until the finally found you and walked you home. That's just the dynamic you had with him

He also often checks up on you, even when it's unrelated to volleyball. Have you done your homework? have you ate breakfast this morning? although you're usually sarcastic with the twins and most of the other members of the team, you can't bring yourself to do so with Kita.

The respect you guys have for each other is unmatched and that's probably why you're such a golden duo in Inarizaki. The leader and the analytical manager.

And now Suna. I think Suna would be the member you have the deepest bond with. you truly allow him to see who you are inside, and he does the same. You guys really just click.

It started with him complaining about Atsumu, and slowly progressed into you letting Suna be the only member to have physical contact with you, but only when the others aren't looking.

Sometimes, if you guys are the only two people in the gym, he'll nap on your lap or lean on your shoulder.

If you didn't already know, like everyone else in Inarizaki, he has a crush on you 😖🖐️ like damn you thought Atsumu had it bad? nah, Suna has it the worst.

He literally asks his little sister to let him practice braiding her hair, just so he'll be perfect when he someday asks to do yours.

But he always chickens out because he's scared you'll say no 😭😭 he's internally very shy, okay? 🥺🥺

He's literally your best friend. You guys have study sessions together, anime nights, literally anything, he's right there with you. The rest of the team are literally not aware of how close the two of you are.

Until one day, Atsumu tries daring you to kiss Suna on the forehead, and instead of flat-out refusing (like you've done before when he's dared you to kiss him, or Akagi) you shrug and gently kiss Suna on the forehead, causing Suna to smile and ruffle your hair.

The rest of the team is just shocked.

Atsumu: what is this FUCKERY?? is y/n literally WILLINGLY touching someone ??¿¿

Y/n and Suna: *smirks*

Atsumu, close to tears: okay

But the rest of the team soon accept you and Suna have a pretty special bond, and that you're genuinely softer when it comes to him.

You don't snap at him much, and as they've noticed, Suna has started being more brave about leaning on your shoulder or sleeping on your lap.

Of course, the rest of the team (with the exception of Kita) is jealous. But hey, they just don't have Suna's charm, okay? xD

You make Suna want to try harder, and he's way more motivated to give it his all in every single game. Mostly because he wants you to be proud of him.

He definitely has a nickname for you, but he will only use it when he's sure you guys are alone. And in return, you call him "Rin" which makes his heart flutter 🥺🥺

KAHDKSS I TOOK SO LONG WITH THE SUNA ONE PLEASE IM TURNING BOTH OF US INTO EVEN BIGGER SUNA SIMPS (as if we weren't already xD)

Now onto Aran !! Aran is a softie who (like Kita) respects you a great deal. He'll fend Atsumu and Osamu off if he senses you aren't having a great day.

He's also pretty good at giving you your space but he checks up on you every once in a while if anyone is bothering you.

Although he's shy about it, Aran actually comes to you when he doesn't understand a homework question. You're super smart and he knows you won't make him feel bad about not knowing.

And it makes you feel happy to know he trusts you, so you help him as best as you can. It's a little secret of yours that the other members don't know about.

It especially lights your day up when he gets a good grade and whispers a silent "thank you" to you in class.

In return, will help you with anything you ask for. No questions asked.

And now, last but not least, sunshine Akagi!! I think he's a total Hinata Shoyo, so he might annoy you a bit at first because of his bright personality.

But deep down inside, you love how easily he gets people to smile and slowly find yourself warming up to him.

And Akagi is really determined to get you to smile (at least once a day) so he cracks the corniest jokes or makes puns.

It has become a thing between the two of you, where Akagi tells you a joke a day, and you rate it out of ten.

Gone are the days when you found him annoying. And now, even if you won't tell him outright— you really do think he's one of the brightest people in your life.

Additional headcanons

CHEERING YOU UP— whenever you feel quieter than usual, or a bit more sarcastic, the boys immediately know something is wrong and rush over to make you feel okay. Literally, it's almost like they've abandoned practice. And eventhough you tell them to get back to it, they refuse to leave until you're feeling better. Suna usually gives you a hug and kisses your forehead, whilst Akagi cracks jokes. Then, (and eventhough you protest) Atsumu lists off all the things you should love about yourself, whilst Osamu buys you ice cream (food is, after all, the best cure for anything). Aran is literally ready to HUNT the person who affected your mood down, and kill them, whilst Kita is literally just holding him back and making sure things don't go overboard. Even if you aren't fully cheered up by then, you'd have laughed a whole lot and know how much they care for you, so honestly... how could you stay sad?

REACTING TO YOU TELLING THEM OFF— Suna is literally just meh about it. He can't take you seriously because he's a dork who thinks he's not included in the list of "idiots" (but no Suna, u mf, you ARE included -_-). Atsumu thinks it's hot 👀 (as I mentioned above), Akagi is genuinely upset/ready to sob and vows to do better. Kita is proud of you for telling them off before he could do it (Kita is not included in the "idiots". How could he? he's PERFECT 🖐️). Osamu and Aran have similar reactions, because they end up apologizing and try to change tactics and do better.

HOW THEY'D ACT WHEN YOU START DATING SUNA— (because this is honestly inevitable, wbk 😭❤️). Atsumu would be jealous. Petty and would call Suna "pretty boy" every chance he gets. Leave him, im sure he'll get over it 🥺🥺 Osamu is pretty jealous too, but he'll never show it and focuses instead on your happiness. Kita approves, and honestly thinks you're a good influence on Suna. Aran is protective of you, and would literally gun Suna down if he ever hurt you (but he won't. Suna loves you, he'd literally jump down a cliff before ever hurting you 😤🖐️) and Akagi is cheerful as before, but extra glad because you seem to smile a bit more often (and Akagi loves your smile).

I took a lot of effort on this <3 hope you like it, bae !! Taglist— @dai-tsukki-desu @sunasthing @k-sakusa-old @tilli-san

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

[tinyboxxtink]

"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 7*

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Yeah I know, that last chapter was....brutal.

And I have some bad news my babies....I work non-stop the next three days, so maybe no new chapter until Monday.

But I gave you this one with a little floof, to make up for that horrible angsty chapter. But also, it's kind of short.

Worse news....it ends on a cliffhanger.

I LOVE YOU ALL DON'T LEAVE ME PLEASE.

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----------------------

Back At Your House

You woke up in your bed, covered in towels and one of Kylie’s pull ups taped under your underwear, along with a million other different cloths/toilet paper.

“What the fuck…?” You tried to move but realized the towels you were surrounded with were mostly covered in blood. You quickly began to panic as the more you woke up the more the pain was coming back. You tried to think of the last thing you remembered before blacking out. Billy had been pumping in and out of your ass, you were in torturous pain, and then he called-- Oh god.

You began scrambling around the bed with your arms under the sheets and comforter, looking for your phone. You could hear the shower running and Billy humming from the bathroom. He was getting off on this, the sick fuck. You couldn’t believe you had been so blind to his psychosis before this. Love is blind sure, but what the fuck?!

Finally you found your phone on the charger, but it was on your vanity across the room. You dragged yourself across the bed and leaned over the bed as far as you could, reaching for the vanity desperately.

You fell helplessly off the foot of the bed, whimpering and crying from the pain in your rectum. You were pretty sure you were still bleeding, but Billy had shoved so much toilet paper and towels up there you probably couldn’t even shit right now. Maybe for a long time.

You weakly pulled on the cord so it made the phone fall off the vanity and land in your hands. You saw you had 30 missed calls, all from Rafael. Oh thank god, he still cared about you. Worried about you.

You hit REDIAL and waited for him to answer. You looked up to the sky and started praying for him to answer before Billy got out of the shower. Finally after what felt like hours, you heard his voice. It was frantic and terrifying, he sounded like he had been crying for a long while.

“What now, Lewis? I swear to God if you FUCKING--”

“R-Rafa?” Your small, weak voice in response made him almost drop the phone in relief.

“Y/N?” He almost choked.

“Mi amor? Are you okay? Where are you? Where’s Lewis?” He rattled off the millions of questions that had ran through his mind since Billy had hung up on him. Hearing him call you amor made your whole world brighten, you wanted to weep in happiness.

“I’m--” You looked down at yourself. You were literally wearing a diaper.

“I’m outside,” He responded before you could say anything else.

“What?” You breathed deeply, pulling yourself up and limping towards your bedroom window. You could see Rafael’s car a few houses down, with the lights off.

“What are you doing?!” You hissed into the phone, glancing fearfully at the bathroom door. “You can’t be here!”

“You can’t stay here baby, you need medical help,” He said into the phone, staring at your silhouette through your window now.

“I-I can’t leave the girls,” You twirled your hair nervously.

“Baby if you’re dead you can’t help them at all!” Rafael reasoned.

Well, he did have a point. You checked the phone for the time: 11:30 pm. You had been out for hours. The girls were probably asleep, you didn’t know how much longer Billy would be in the shower.

“Look he won’t hurt them, right? You said that?” Rafael asked, knocking you back to reality.

“Raff after tonight I don’t know what he’s capable of,” You tried not to start crying again. You knew how upset he already was, if he heard you cry you knew it would send him off the edge again.

“God dammit!” You could hear him pull the phone away and violently hit the passenger's seat several times as the image of your bloody body being rammed by Lewis reverberated in his brain images.

“Rafael, calm down. Please,” You pleaded with him. “I-I don’t even know if I can make it outside,”

“Fuck,” You heard him mutter. “Then I’m coming in,”

“Rafael, don’t. Please--” But it was too late, he had already hung up. You closed your eyes and waited for the boom. You listened intently as the shower continued to run, then you heard your door open, footsteps come running down the hall.

Finally you saw him, Rafael. He scooped you up before you could say anything, grabbed some of your clean clothes out of your drawers and before you knew it you were sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, and he was speeding away from your house.

“Carino…” You felt his hand on the back of your head, rubbing your hair lovingly. “God I’m so so sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” You shook your head weakly, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of his skin on yours again. Even if it was just your hair.

You could smell his cologne wafting from his wrist and you placed a hand on his knee, turning your head to face him. He glanced over at you, giving you a sad smile. He put his free hand on your hand that was on his knee, then when he thought you were far enough away he pulled over to the side of the road.

“Wha---?” You looked around confused as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He unbuckled yours and then pulled you from your seat, over the gear stick into his lap.

“Rafa, what are you doing?” You cocked your head to the side like a confused puppy dog as he stroked your hair. Instead of answering your question, he pulled you into a deep, slow kiss. The complete opposite of what you had been through tonight.

“I just...I’ve wanted to do this since you left my office. Since I saw you with that gun pushed into your back. Since I saw you…” He started to cry so he looked down in shame.

You put one hand on his cheek and wiped the tears with your thumb. He put his hand over the hand on his cheek and kissed in between your thumb and first finger. You pressed your forehead against his while he tried to compose himself, then you just laid your head on his shoulder. He started to stroke your hair once more and just held you like that, basking in each other’s safeness and warmth.

“I love you,” He whispered while still holding onto you, tears still apparent in his voice. “I love you so much Y/N, I’m sorry. I will never let you out of my sight ever again,”

“I’m sorry,” You whispered into his shoulder. “I should’ve listened to you,”

“Hey,” He picked your head up and made you face him. “No, you do not apologize for ANYTHING, okay? This isn’t your fault,”

“Isn’t it?” You bit your lip while trying not to cry yourself. “I married the man, Rafael! I had kids with him, I--I would have stayed married to him if he hadn’t left!”

“But you didn’t know....” He comforted you.

“No but I should have,” You shook your head in shame at yourself.

“How could you have known that he--”

“Because my dad was like him, Rafael,” You finally admitted. You hadn’t told anyone that, not even Billy.

“....What?” You looked at him in shock, trying to make sure you heard him correctly.

“My dad, he--” You looked down at your lap in shame. “He used to beat the shit out of me and my mom,”

“....Me too,” Rafael finally admitted his own shame after a long pause.

“What?” You blinked several times. “Seriously?”

“Mmmhmm,” He nodded sadly. “Well you know when he was sober enough to hit. Sometimes he just wouldn’t come home at all. For hours, days. Finally never,”

“Oh, Raffi….” You gave a sympathetic look. “If it makes you feel any better, my dad drank himself to death,”

“How would that make me feel better?” Rafael raised an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know, I was trying to say something comforting. I suck at it. I shouldn’t be a mother,” You shook your head.

“Hey now,” He put a hand to your cheek again. “You seem like a great mother,”

“Oh yeah, mom of the year,” You rolled your eyes. “I just left my kids with their psychopath father,”

“Hey, I kidnapped you,” He teased.

“Yeah you did--” You stopped smiling when the thought hit you like a train. “Oh fuck,”

“What?” Rafael furrowed his eyebrows.

“If I know Billy, once he realizes I’m gone and who I’m with, he’s going to claim you kidnapped me or something,” Your own eyebrows furrowed as you started going over worst case scenarios.

“But that’s absurd,” He shook his head. “Clearly I didn’t…”

“I mean you kind of did,” You shrugged.

“But you wanted to come!” He defended.

“You think he’s gonna word it that way?” You gave him a look.

“Well if they come after us then I’ll just clarify that--” Rafael kept reasoning with you.

“Then he’ll say that I just abandoned them,” You made another excuse.

“You left them with their dad--” Rafael was determined to make you see logic.

“He’s going to come after us Rafael!!”

“Okay, baby-- you’re spiraling,” He took both of your hands. “Inhalar, exhalar,” [pronounced

In-hall-ay, ex-hall-ay]

You took several inhales and exhales, long and deep.

“I just--” You breathed again. “I know this is going to end badly,”

“Not as badly as it could have,” Rafael pointed out. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do we need to go to the hospital or something?”

“...I...I don’t know,” You sheepishly admitted. “I haven’t had the courage to check,”

“What?!” Rafael cried, picking you up and standing up out of the car and opening the back door, laying you across the backseat.

“Baby these are fine leather seats! You’ll never get the blood out if you--” You tried to object but Rafael was already peeling off your “diaper”. He became more and more angry at the haphazard way Lewis had just patched you up so that he could shower. When he unraveled the mountains of toilet paper wrapped around your waist, he could see you were “Stopped up” by a bunch of cotton balls and tampons. And you were very clearly still bleeding. The sight made him sick.

“Fuck…” He whispered as he threw the “bandages” back on you, then went to get something from his trunk. He came back with an old t-shirt and wrapped it around your waist and butt area tightly.

“We have to stop this bleeding baby,” he began to panic again. “I-I don’t even know how you’re conscious right now, you must have lost a lot of--” He stopped talking when he realized you were in fact, unconscious now. All of those shitty bandages as shitty as they were, had been keeping your blood and and now it was freely pouring out of you and out of the car.

“Fuck…” He muttered as he slammed the door and got in the driver’s seat, starting his car again and speeding towards the hospital. Well, it would sure be a hell of a lot harder to explain he DIDN’T kidnap you now, if you weren’t awake to verify it.

He sped as fast as he could to the hospital, dialing Liv’s number as he drove. “Liv, get the squad to the hospital,” He instructed her.

“And we need a police detail at this address, but you have got to be discreet, I don’t want him going off the rails,”

As soon as they got to the hospital, Rafael jumped out and started yelling to EMT’s and nurses standing outside the emergency room to help him with you. They grabbed a gurney and helped Rafael put you on it, rolling you inside as you were immediately hooked up to things and had a team swarming you.

“How much blood has she lost?” A nurse asked him as she pushed him back away from you so the doctors could work.

“I...I don’t know,” He answered warily as he tried looking over her to see how you were.

“What blood type is she?” She moved him to face her.

“I don’t know…” He rubbed his hand across the back of his head, but it was covered in your blood. It made him panic more.

“Do you know anything, sir?” The nursed asked in an annoyed tone.

“Yes,” He was now glaring angrily. “I know she was brutally raped, and I’m pretty sure he tore her,”

“....He?” She eyed him up and down, seeing him covered in your blood.

“Oh come on,” Rafael exhaled with a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t think if I did this to her I would bring her in myself?”

“I don’t know you sir, I don’t know what you would or would not do--”

“No I did NOT do this to her--” He started to tell her she was nuts, when he heard the last voice in the world he wanted to hear.

“THERE HE IS!!!!” He turned to see Lewis walking in with Jersey PD, pointing directly at him.

“THAT’S THE MAN WHO RAPED AND KIDNAPPED MY WIFE!!!!!!!!”

….Well, fuck.

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 23:

Day 5 from Azriel’s POV (cause why not?). ♥️

Azriel’s head was in a constant state of unrest. His mind churned with thoughts of his past, his present, and what the future might look like for him. He usually pushed the last ones away into a corner and ignored the insistent pull to just think. Just imagine. It was unusual for his mind to be still. Quiet.

No.

It used to be.

It had become more and more frequent because of her.

Elain.

His mind stilled when she was around.

Elain.

When she looked at him.

Elain.

When she smiled, when she laughed.

Elain.

And right now, his mind failed to produce any thought other than... Elain.

Just her. Her name. Her face, her big brown eyes that shone with a light he had been searching for all his life. A light he had been running after, begging his father to allow him to see—

Elain.

Her lips, her smile, her flushed cheeks.

Elain.

He shook his head, got up from the bed, and paced his room. The darkness was interrupted by the light streaming in through the window. The city of Velaris was alive beyond the river. He was staying at the river house tonight. His window gave him a dazzling view of Elain’s garden, the river, and Velaris at night. He stepped closer to it. Imagined himself flying over the lights of the city. Maybe he should. His eyes lowered to the flowers again. Her garden.

He had taught her the mechanics of flying in that garden, had flown her over that river just a few hours ago. He had been laying in bed now, remembering the way her hair swayed with the soft wind he allowed through his thin power shield. How she had laughed in ecstasy. Remembering how she had touched his wing, curiously and gently. Thinking about how she had not been afraid to ask, how her eyes had been so trusting that he would not laugh at her simple question on how flying worked.

He was going crazy knowing how little distance there was between where she was right now and him. Just across the hallway.

He fisted his hands and stepped away from the window. Shadows hung around the corners of the room, one of them floating curiously over to him. He begged his mind to come back alive. To burn through millions of thoughts other than her. To not be so still and quiet.

But— Elain.

Her kindness, her hope, her joy. The love she still had towards life even when life had failed her over and over. Her forgiveness, her determination, her perseverance.

She was becoming a good spy. Too good. It was getting harder and harder to hear her when she tried to approach him. The only reason he could still tell when she was in the room was because he was always searching for her scent. It was as if something primal in him woke up at her particular aroma. His whole being alighting with joy and a drive to protect.

It sparked to life in that instant, and Azriel stilled as her scent drifted over to him. Anyone else would not have noticed —he had not even heard her. He stayed silent, turning towards the door. She was behind it. He didn’t need his shadows to tell him, but one of them did.

Elain, it whispered in his ear. Azriel’s hair on his arms rose. His body began to shake slightly with his internal battle.

What was she doing here at his door? Did she need something? Or was she feeling just as miserable as he was?

Azriel was supposed to be a reader of tells. To know what others felt by watching their body language. But with Elain, he tried his best to ignore every sign that said she still felt as attracted to him as she had that cursed solstice night. He pushed away the thought that they both might want each other. Rhys had forbidden it. His High Lord had forbidden it.

Elain, the shadow repeated.

And Cauldron damn him, he made his way to the door and eased it open. He shifted his expression to the impassive mask he was used to wearing.

There she was, hidden by his shadows just before they shifted and allowed them both to gaze at each other.

She did not move and Azriel fought back the urge to reach for her. Instead, he glanced to both sides of the hallway, making sure there was nobody in sight —though his shadows would have warned him— before whispering, “What happened?”

She shook her head and hesitated for a breath before asking, “Can I come in?”

Azriel focused on his breathing, on keeping his face neutral. He focused on anything that would keep his sanity in check. Let her in his room? When he was feeling as unsteady as he had ever felt in his whole five centuries of existence?

This was a mistake. He had to say no.

However, his legs disobeyed and stepped farther into the room, opening the door wider. She came in, her scent becoming stronger. His knees almost buckled under the weight of his need to burry his head in her neck and breath her in as she walked by him.

He closed the door silently, giving his shadows the order to cover the door and walls, making sure no one in this household knew that the middle Archeron sister had come to see the Spymaster. Never mind that he still did not know what she had come here for. A small part of him, a smart one, hoped she had not come for the same reasons he had been pacing the room for.

Betraying Rhys like that...

He turned to her. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered, turning to him, too.

She was in a thin nightgown. Azriel kept his eyes focused on her face.

He was going to lose his mind.

She added, “Why weren’t you?”

The lie came easily to his lips. “I was sleeping.”

“No, you weren’t.” No, I wasn’t. Azriel wondered how she knew, he had not been making any noise. Before he even opened his mouth to speak, she gestured to the door. “If we’re speaking like this—“

“The shadows made a barrier around the door and along the wall,” he provided. Elain blinked and he observed her shoulders relax. His gaze jumped back up to her face. Kept it there. “What happened, Elain?” he repeated.

She said nothing for a few seconds, a couple of her tells beginning to show. She twisted her nightgown with her fingers —afraid, but of what?— and a hard swallow —nervous, self-conscious. “Nothing.”

Nothing. Nothing had happened. Azriel felt his wings twitch.

Nothing.

She was here because she wanted to come, just like he had wanted to run to her room and touch her. Her hair, her face, her lips. Feel her heartbeat against his own as he kissed her. Kissed her lips, her cheeks, her shoulders. As he trailed kisses down her body, as gentle as her touch upon his wing.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he forced himself to say. He had to at least try to obey Rhysand.

Cauldron boil him, he was going mad.

Elain studied him for a moment. In the darkness, it was difficult to see her expression, but emotions that were not his own rushed to his chest. Was he feeling her emotions? He really must be losing his mind.

“Why didn’t you kiss me on solstice, Azriel?”

His mind went utterly silent at the question. Every other thought ebbed out. Nothing remained but a silence and this moment. Elain standing a few feet away from him, asking him the most damning question she could have asked him.

What could he possibly say? He had no good answer to her question. The truth could not be voiced, either.

“Why didn’t you kiss me on solstice, Azriel?” She took a step towards him as she repeated that damn question.

You are to stay away from her, Rhys’s voice rang out in his mind. If I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it.

“It was a mistake,” Azriel finally answered. His chest ached as he added, “It shouldn’t have gotten that far in the first place.”

She took another step closer. “No, that’s not it.” She was close enough now that Azriel could see her better. Her brow was furrowed in a frown, like he was a difficult equation she was trying to solve. He wanted to rub his thumb to the crease of her brow and ease the tension there by following it with a kiss. He looked away from the intensity of her gaze.

“That’s it.” He hoped she didn’t believe him.

If I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it.

“You should go.” His wings twitched again.

But she didn’t. She stepped closer and closer until she stood before him, her chest brushing against his. He almost hissed at the contact, almost pushed her away to keep a semblance of sanity. But his hands were shaking too hard from the effort it took him to not lean in closer and beg her to have him. In any way or form. As long as he could kiss her, touch her, worship her.

“Azriel, look at me.”

He didn’t. It would be his undoing. “You shouldn’t be here, Elain.”

“Yes. I should,” she answered fiercely. His legs almost gave out under him, but he shook his head.

You are to stay away from her.

“We both know I should.”

She needed to go. Needed to go now. Or maybe he should go. As long as he was away from her. One more second in her presence and he would—

Her fingers caressed his cheek and his whole body stiffened.

She shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. Azriel shut his eyes, his impassive mask falling as his instincts battled his common sense.

Everything in him wanted to embrace this. To allow himself to have something he wanted at least this once. She was right here. All he wanted. But that small part of his brain kept repeating Rhysand’s order to him. His brother and High Lord, who would have to punish Azriel for this betrayal. For going against him.

“Azriel, look at me.” Azriel’s name from her lips was enough to get him to obey her.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze. But he had to try.

One last time.

“Elain.” She took a deep inhale, bracing herself for what he had to say. “Please go.”

The desperation in his voice... Azriel was no longer capable of being subtle.

She held his gaze, but her lashes fluttered for a moment, her eyes shining with some new discovery. Azriel saw her emotions through her eyes. The confusion and hurt turning to hope turning to determination. Had he not been thinking earlier of that same quality in her?

Then her eyes light up with desire, with joy. And looking into those big brown eyes in the darkness of the night, her feelings as clear to him as if he were reading a report, he understood that there was no hope of winning this battle anymore. He was hers whether he wanted to embrace it now or later.

You are to stay away from her.

Rhys’s voice rang out again. But this time, his own answered back.

You can't order me to do that.

Elain rubbed her thumb against his cheek, and Azriel did not hold back when she said, “Kiss me.”

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye X — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

The entire house descended into an ominous silence. Yoongi could hear murmurs coming from through the door where Saito and Belle were still conversing. No one could really hear what they were talking about. He had a few ideas however. Taehyung sat down at the small dining table while Jungkook had his back faced to everyone, leaning over the study table.

Time was running out. In only a few minutes those doors were going to burst open and Yoongi knew he had to keep his heart hardened. Exposing and arresting Jungkook was not just an act of heroism but it broke so many manipulative ties. So many dens used vulnerable people as bait, Taehyung being one of those victims. The countless amounts of people who died or were severely damaged while Jungkook made money off of that suffering.

Those thoughts provided him with a new boost of determination. He was doing this for good. It was a heartless act for a broken hearted man but it was the right thing.

Glancing over at Taehyung, Yoongi tried to give him an apologetic look knowing this was not the right time to be adding more stress. But they both knew this was for their freedom.

Heat erupted like a volcano from his toes right up to his head. Hands trembling and eyes burning as Yoongi reached into his holster, carefully hearing the rustling outside of the house.

Heartbeat pounded in his ears muffling all sound for a moment but his chest felt the thud.

The door burst open as a small crowd of police officers marched in almost like an army of cockroaches except more organized. Dark uniforms contrasting with the soft warm tones of the house design.

One of the officers pointed a gun at Taehyung making him stand up from the chair and raise his arms in defense.

“Stand down, he’s not the one we want. Niether are the two women inside the bedroom.” Yoongi ordered simply glancing over his shoulder as he pulled the gun out of the holster. He watched Jungkooks’ movements carefully but the younger male stayed still. Almost like a statue of sorts. Even Yoongi grew convinced that the world finally froze for a moment to give them time to breathe except he could only hold his right now.

Then Jungkook turned his body around, reddened gaze and an unreadable expression adorned on his broken features. Eyes merely glanced at the officers as if he already expected their presence…or was just too heartbroken to really care. Finally that same eerie gaze fixated on Yoongi. “Suppose I should’ve guessed it. No medical apprentice would know how to work a gun that well.” He smiled sadly, eyes still a little glossy.

“Jeon Jungkook…” Yoongi sighed, tightening his grip on the gun and pretending he was dreaming for a moment to make it easier not to shake. “You’re under arrest. Don’t make this harder on yourself and just come with us.”

“I’ll go.” Jungkook nodded a lot longer than Yoongi was comfortable with.

He could recognize that silence from far too many arrests already. Not a single person went so willingly, even the innocent ones.

Before anyone was prepared, Jungkook grabbed the gun from the table and shot the guard next to the older male.

Almost like machines all the standing officers raised their guns while injured officer groaned, bleeding on the floor.

“No! Stand down!” Yoongi ordered in more of a growl now ensuring no shots were fired from the police officers to prevent casualties. Especially since Taehyung was still standing there, breathing heavily. Raising his own gun at the Jungkook, both men now had their weapons pointed at each other.

None of them made a move for the trigger nor were they determined on lowering their guns either.

-

Belle and Saito jumped at the sound of a gunshot from the other side. The younger womans’ memory now jolting to what was to be done today, she pushed herself off the bed. Pain shot through her entire lower body as she moved her legs to the side and got to her feet. Belle leaned onto the wall with a light groan.

Saito immediately held onto her arms to keep her from moving any further. “You need to stay here if there’s danger happening.”

“No—” She shook his head, gently patting her hand. “He’s not going to listen. I need to talk to him.”

“If someone pulls the trigger accidentally—”

“Then I’ll get shot.” Belle replied simply, walking past the woman trying to be as kind as possible. There wasn’t really anything else that was going to surprise her anymore. If death was the next option for her continued torture then it didn’t look too bad.

She opened the door harshly causing a gust of wind and dust to flow through her hair and dress. Belle’s heart dropped when she saw Jungkook and Yoongi pointing a gun to each other. She hated not knowing which side scared her most. Either way her trembling feet moved forward.

If both Yoongi and Jungkook were stubborn before, it quickly faded to a numbing feeling when they saw Belle stand smack damn in the middle of them.

Yoongis’ eyes widened seeing his gun pointed right at her back and Jungkook lost all his anger for a moment seeing the end of his weapon aimed at his wifes’ forehead.

“Belle, what’re you doing?” Jungkook asked in a breathy voice, immediately putting his gun down as Yoongi did too not wanting to have that view ever again.

“Turn yourself in.” Belles’ lips quivered but she stood her ground, not wanting to succumb to the pain anymore even though it felt so easy to do so now.

Jungkooks’ mouth moved in a subtle manner attempting to form words, eyes momentarily glancing over at Saito who stood at the door before looking back at Belle. “Yoongi betrayed us—” He leaned in as if to try and reason with the woman in an attempt of a private conversation.

“You—” Belle corrected. “He betrayed you. Not us.” Her features twisted welcoming another brewing sob as more tears gathering at her stinging eyes. “He’s helping me.”

Jungkooks’ expression deflated. A disquiet silence plunged into the warm room. “No…n-no you’re just tired, you’re saying things.” He forced out a chuckle but it quickly faded into a confused frown. “Just go back to the bedroom.” He reached out to hold onto her arms.

Belle pushed his arms away and shook her head. “It’s over, Jungkook.” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “Please let it be over. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Tears overflooded and streamed down her cheeks, voice crackling at every word. “It hurts too much now, I tried—” She gasped lightly. “I really tried to be good for you but it has to end. Let it end.”

It didn’t take a mind reader to see Jungkooks’ whole world crash and shatter right in front of eyes when his lips parted and he lost control of his tears again. As his body shook and his heart clenched until it grew ten times smaller, the grip on his gun loosened. Metal clanged onto wood making Belle jump a little.

Yoongi gestured over to four officers making them immediately rush over to where Jungkook backed away and grab him by the arms.

Belle stood frozen as she watched her husband being dragged away out of the house. Letting out a drawling breath, the girl had to stop for a moment to ensure this wasn’t some kind of sick dream. Looking over her shoulder she saw Taehyung slowly walking towards her.

Immediately the older male engulfed his sister into a warm hug.

As if another dam broke down when Belle let out a series of sobs, a strange mixture of hurt and that little tingle of relief that she so longed for. It wasn’t fake anymore. Her sobs muffled a little into his shoulder. For a few seconds the woman could take a breath and quite happily cry her suppressed pain out without the pressure of smiling again.

She was hurt, broken and deeply damaged. But she survived. That was all that mattered in this moment of heartwarming vulnerability where a brother and sister could finally walk towards freedom.

-

A week almost flew by without Belle fully realizing her world changed overnight. The sun shone a bright golden high in the sky as she sat in one of the biggest law firms in the city where divorce papers were being filed and signed. Cool air brushed through her grey bodycon dress, the extra swell on her belly still poking out when she sat but it definitely dialed down significantly after all the check-ups and treatments.

Saito seemed to lose her smile for the past few days finding out the unfair game her biggest customer had been playing with none other than own protégé. A part of her felt guilt settle in her upset stomach letting all this happen under her nose without, even for a minute, checking if everything was okay.

Once Belle’s signature etched onto the paper, the papers were enveloped and made to be sent to the prison where Jungkook was held. Apparently the now convicted drug lord specifically asked to have a private cell as far away as possible from the city.

No pleas for bail. Nothing. Just quiet acceptance of the fate given to him.

Standing up from the chair after bidding farewell to the legal team, Saito guided Belle out of the office to the elevator.

With a pleasant ding, the doors slid open to reveal that the elevator was empty and the two women walked inside in silence.

-

As the doors closed and Belle felt a lift in her stomach as it descended down, she heard Saitos’ voice break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Belle.” Saito murmured not facing her but looking at the blurry reflection of her figure against the doors. “I should’ve known something was wrong from the beginning. Maybe—maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

Belle turned her head to face the older woman immediately shaking her head. “I’m the one who accepted the deal. And I’d do it again if I had to.” She spoke with any confidence mustered in the past few days.

All the daily interrogations really built a wall of confidence over her. Investigators really liked asking questions about the impregnation ritual and miscarriage on how it was not technically Jungkooks’ fault she said yes to him.

Even Namjoon, Yoongis partner, in all his ability to be patient, grew frustrated at the inappropriate and misogynistic questions thrown at her which really did not bring them closer to thickening Jungkooks’ case.

Both officers were struggling to find a decent number of years fit for Jungkooks’ sentence. That would only work if the investigators were not trying so hard to make Belle look like the real personification of Lady Macbeth, using her wit and beauty to ‘trick’ Jungkook in to committing the crimes he did.

Eventually that mindset was debunked considering how long Jungkook and his whole family had reigned over the city.

-

Out the elevator, Belles’ thoughts seemed to come to life when the two women were welcomed by two familiar officers at the lobby.

Namjoon and Yoongi stood waiting, with coffees in hand and badges flashing from their belts looking utterly out of place in an area infested by people wearing suits.

To her though, the familiar look brought a smile across her face.

“Can I say I’m out of the woods now?” Belle chuckled nervously looking at Namjoon and Yoongis’ expression twist into a mixture of a smile and some splashes of disappointment. “What was the verdict?”

The two men met each other’s gaze for a few moments before Yoongi took a breath to speak.

“Five years.” The answer lingered amongst the group with an eerie note.

Belle’s smile disappeared as she shifted where she stood, trying to immediately reassure herself with any comforting words that could be conjured. A lot of things could happen in five years. Which brought a sink in her belly wondering whether the life she makes at that time would be interrupted by a ghost of her past.

“You’ll be under court protection so he can’t come near you whether in prison or not.” Namjoon explained in the calm tone.

“It’s not him I’m worried about.” She smiled sadly. The couple were ripped apart in the heat of swirling events that overwhelmed the both of them. Despite the brush of freedom Belle now felt, there was still the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something needed to be said. Like a chapter unfinished or a song stopped smack damn in the middle.

“There’s no need to worry about something that long away now.” Saito patted the younger womans’ back. “I’m going to work. You are going to get a whole day off and try not to think about anything else but yourself.” A comforting smile spread across her lips.

Belles’ gaze flickered over to Yoongi, her heart jumping a little to see his eyes already fixated on her.

-

Walking out of the firm building, the heat was pleasant on her skin after the chill of the air conditioners for hours. Saito took her own car to drive her around because Belle started getting a bit too jumpy to drive for a while. The younger woman was not so sure why because she had already seen and heard so many things that no person should in their lifetime.

Saito walked to her car and climbed inside.

As Belle tried to follow her, Yoongi lightly touched her shoulder to bring attention back to him.

“There’s something I need to show you.” He murmured, his tone serious.

Belle looked over at the male, confusion gripping her features but she did not argue much further.

Giving a quick farewell to Saito, she opted to climb into the SUV the two officers drove in. Apparently police protection had to be done in the subtle way possible to prevent spies from getting way too observant on when they were coming to watch Belle.

Climbing into the vehicle, the AC once again bursting throughout as Namjoon already started the engine while Yoongi got into the car. They drove off almost immediately and kept a strange level of silence in the air. Not that Belle was in mood for any kind of conversation, it still brought a small tinge of discomfort.

-

Passing the building at a somewhat snail pace as the traffic thickened, Yoongi finally built up some kind of courage to structure the words in his mind. The piece of paper in his hands itching to be given to the woman. The letter that could have potentially determined Jungkooks’ fate that night. If anyone found out that the man handed this confidential document to someone so close to the criminal, he would lose his job almost instantly. But it had to be done. Despite all the things happened Belle deserved to know Jungkooks’ plan prior to his arrest.

“What did you want to show me?” Belle broke the silence out of pure lack of patience with the thickening quiet.

Yoongi let out a deep sigh glancing over at Namjoon who kept his focus on the road rather than any of them. Pushing himself to a jolt of courage, he held the folded piece of paper behind him gesturing it closer to her. “This.”

Brows furrowed, Belle gingerly accepted the paper and unfolded it revealing handwritten words that only went through half the page.

“It’s the last letter he wrote before getting arrested.” He stated. Somehow the exchange proved to be a thousand times easier when Yoongi could not actually face the woman. However the deafening silence very quickly grew unbearable.

Eyes scanned across the words carefully written with the extra ink spreads at the end of most of the letters. Little dots scattered after a sentence because he was probably thinking up the best way to say something. Then the words themselves. Jungkook planned to give everything up to raise their family. He chose to give up his riches, power and reputation for family.

It was a lie. It had to be, right?

Why would he lie to his parents however? There was no reason to dramatically announce giving up his empire for his wife and child for people who were not even in the country. His parents wouldn’t want him to give up the empire. Jungkook didn’t say what his parents probably wanted to hear. Nor was there any use to lie to them about how much he cared about his own growing family.

It couldn’t be the other thing.

That wasn’t real, remember?

Belle felt her eyes sting and burn forcing her to rip her gaze away from the letter. Staring out the window, the buildings began blurring into one another either from her teary vision or the speed of the car. “Did you find this before or after the arrest?” She asked in a mixture of a murmur and whisper.

Yoongi pursed his lips together. “Belle—”

“Before…or after?” She emphasized her words in a more firm tone.

The male glanced up at the ceiling feeling a light constraint in his chest. A part of him prepared for this very moment where he would tell Belle the truth about Jungkooks’ intentions. Maybe his need to abide by duty overpowered it. Or maybe it was something a little more selfish than just his job. “Before. I found it before the show.”

Belle let out a shaky sigh, body deflating into the leather seat as she hugged the paper to her chest. “Why—why did you keep it from me?” Her voice cracked a little.

“What would you have done if I had told you?” Yoongis’ stomach may have dropped the slightest thinking of a very different turnout if Jungkook actually went through with his plan.

“You still shouldn’t have hid it from me.” Her heart began pounding and racing so hard, they could almost crack through her ribcages at this point. Did she do the wrong thing helping Jungkook get arrested? “He was—” Belle tried to let out a deep breath but it all collected in her throat preventing any of her nerves to calm down. They only grew more frazzled, tightening and numbing any ability to hear things clearly. “He was going to stop.”

“People like that don’t just stop.” Yoongi replied simply. “Give him three years of keeping his promise and he’s going to be back at it again.”

“That still didn’t give you the right to go behind my back like that!” Chest rose and fell as the woman struggled to gain a normal pattern of breathing. Her body burned like a volcano erupted from her belly, shooting uncomfortably through each vein.

“I was undercover, that was my job.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“I was helping you! The whole time I thought—” At this point all Belle could do was heave as all the heat rushed through her head, tears melting down her cheeks and dripping onto her chest.

“He—”

“Yoongi!” Namjoon finally spoke up glancing over at the older male before indicating to the left. “She’s getting anxious, stop it.”

Yoongi had no stubbornness to fight any further anyway except now he wished there was anger to at least numb down that twisting feeling in his stomach. He could hear the way the girl heaved to get a deep breath out while the car slowed down gradually coming to the side emergency lane.

Namjoon puts the car to a complete stop and Belle immediately climbs out before Yoongi could mentally prepare himself for it.

The fresh breeze of air felt new as if Belle had not been breathing it a few minutes ago. Her body cooled down although it merely touched the surface; heart still beat far too fast to really think in a proper pattern. Everything felt like a kaleidoscope of emotions. Reddening from anger, then blue splotches of deep rooted sadness, deep maroon when she found the space next to her bed empty and her own apartment looked foreign all the while accompanied with a vibrant yellow to reassure her everything was going to be okay. The best and worst feeling that brought confusion to her vulnerable, healing body.

These momentary crashes of panic were happening a lot more often than she liked to admit. Belle remembered the first time was two nights after the arrest. Her whole night completely spent with Taehyung trying to help her regulate her breathing until at an ungodly hour of four in the morning, they managed to get some shut eye. Although not enough to keep them alert the next day.

Being in the car usually caused the worst of it and it didn’t help with the letter now swirling in her mind. It was so much more easy to think that Jungkook was a horrible, tyrannous drug lord who didn’t care for anyone but himself and his empire. To think that he had other priorities in mind while Belle helped his enemy brought an unwelcome twinge of guilt.

After a few moments’ of leaving the woman alone to her space, Yoongi climbed out of the car into the cool air. Sighing, he spoke up to break the silence. “Belle I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“I would’ve stayed with him.” Belle answered hugging herself as tightly as she could before nodding briefly. “If you told me about the letter, I would’ve protected him.” Her features twisted, not a face of pride for a loved one but one of submission and desperation. “At first it was because I was pregnant, I couldn’t raise the baby on my own, I knew that, I knew that my baby deserved a good family away from the world he was in. So if Jungkook ever told me he was going to give the whole life up…I would’ve gone with him.” A long drawling breath passed through her lips as the words seemed to loosen a few knots in her body.

For a minute she tried to searching deep into her mind wondering if the words coming out of her mouth were true. But there was nothing. “Why didn’t the police ask me about this?” Belle held up the paper not really knowing she was still holding.

“I am the police.” Yoongi shrugged. “I just didn’t give it to them. They had enough evidence to ensure Jungkook was the culprit for all the drug dens. The assassination on the mayor was more information for the mayor only.” He dug his hands into his pockets. “About you going with him…” He let out a brief sigh. “Is it just for the baby?”

Tears dried up from the wind, her face feeling a little tight. She shook her head. A part of Belle still grew so used to pretending like she had to sugarcoat things or make it sound like she was in control. However once you allow something to feel broken, it’ll feel like falling and falling into an endless abyss until all you can do is get back up again. “No…it wasn’t just for the baby.” Belle’s bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t want to…I really didn’t want to—” She closed her eyes before hanging her head. “But I do.” Shaky hands held onto the letter again.

Yoongi could almost feel a dark cloud over them. Belle should have been moving towards a path of healing, not wondering what it would been like all her life. Granted there was no way to know whether she was going to continue helping him after reading the letter but it still didn’t give him any right to keep this truth away from her. The last thing she needed was getting played into another lie.

Belle took another deep breath as her body now slowly calmed itself down. “It’s okay though, right? You did it to protect me and other people.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “There’s no reason to cry about it now.”

“Belle…” He murmured taking a small step closer.

“It’s okay, Yoongi.” Reddened eyes met his gaze. “Just take me home please.” Belle padded past the male and climbed back into the car leaving Yoongi with a question of whether he just helped the woman or rushed through a mission just so he could get what he wanted.

-

The drive back to her apartment reverted back to its original silence. Belle placed the letter into her purse despite a few sensible sides of her advising she get rid of it. It would only hurt more to keep it and wonder but her body seemed to grow weak whenever the thought crossed her mind.

Namjoon parked in front of the apartment building and Belle gave the two officers a quick ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’ before climbing out of the car.

Up the elevator and through the hallways, Belle felt a rush of relief coming back to her home again. At least she tried to call it her home now. It almost felt like coming into a hotel or just a really strong déjà vu as the old memories of her time here seemed so long ago.

Walking through the entrance, Belle tossed her purse on the kitchen island, leaning against the edge of the counter, fingers ran through her hair only to get a little caught in the middle. Pulling them out, she merely pushed the strands back and grabbed scrunchie from her purse to tie it back up into a loose ponytail. “Tae?” She called out softly.

The apartment was fairly silent at least until she heard ruffling on the spare room. Belle had moved most of her designs from the room to her own while some of her steel stands scattered around the living room.

Eventually the door opened with a half-naked Taehyung padded out of the room, ruffling his hair as his lips pouted out, eyes squinting into the light. “Hey…how’d the signing go?”

Belle shrugged, rummaged through her purse and seeing the piece of paper just sitting there. “I guess the same as any other divorce.”

“If you marry a mob boss, sure.” Taehyung stopped near the edge of the counter.

“What were you doing today?”

Taehyung rubbed his face trying to hide the wide smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. Despite the exhaustion across his expression, there was still this aura of joy. It was not hard to guess who may have caused that smile. Seokjin had created full freedom for Taehyung to visit Angel without any rules involved but for her protection against her ex-husband, she had to publicly stay married to him. That is until some solid legal actions were made to properly keep Angel protected so they could think of something more serious with their new blooming relationship. “Little this, little that.” The struggle to keep his smile failed terribly as the biggest damn grin graced his features.

Belles’ heart swelled, a more comforting warmth spreading across her body compared to the one she felt during the drive. For a moment she could remind herself that things were actually more okay now. Taehyung looked so much happier and she even saw him sketching the other day. Things were looking to be normal again. Except for the secret in her purse. Gulping down, she pulled the paper out. “Tae…” Eyes stared down at the folded paper before placing it on the table.

The older males’ smile faded away into one of curiosity when he saw the paper in her hands. “What is it?”

“Yoongi gave me this…” She murmured, fingers caressing over the surface. Much to her slight shame Belle could imagine caressing Jungkooks’ cheek. How warm he felt and he would almost always lean into her touch naturally. The thought made her abruptly stop the action, gulping those feelings down. “It’s a letter…from Jungkook.” Belle took a deep breath. “It says that he was going to give everything up for me…” Her stomach twisted. “For the me and the—the baby.”

It didn’t take a genius to feel the heat of anger already radiating from her older brother as he tightened his jaw. “He’s just lying.” Taehyungs’ voice grew dark, making it even more raspier than it already was.

“It was a letter to his parents.” Sharing the same thought as the other male would have been comforting but Belle knew better than to lie to herself just for the sake of making things easier to bear.

“Doesn’t matter. He’d never do that, he loves his power too much.” Taehyung shook his head.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t care about his family.” Belle glanced down at the letter.

“There isn’t any family now.” He corrected. “You’re divorced, he’s not your responsibility and the kid—” Taehyung immediately pursed his lips to calm his frustrations down before he said anything he was going to regret.

Belle stayed silent staring down at her dress, lump growing in her throat. With the whirlwind of things that had been happening in such a short time, the miscarriage seemed a distant memory. At least until she was reminded of how fresh the wound still was. “I know all that.” She murmured.

Taehyung immediately padded closer to the younger standing next to her. His arm moved over her back, rubbing up and down her arm while his forehead pressed against her temple. “I’m sorry…” He whispered. “I know everything hurts right now but it’ll be okay.” He tilted his head to try and search her expression. “You gave up so much to take care of me. Let me take care of you.” Long fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

Chest fell and pushed out with a small sob passing Belle’s lips, the heat from Taehyungs’ body in such close proximity providing her comfort. “Okay.” She whispered. Turning her body around with a light sniffle, she buried her face into his bare chest, arms hooking back and hands gripping at his shoulders.

How freeing it was to be able to curl up into Taehyung’s arms whenever her mind decided to play tricks on her. Belle knew she was strong, so many people including the reporters on the news continuously tried to tell her. But it never reassured her. Strength was what got her into this mess. For once, Belle truly felt happy knowing she was strong but could still rely on the people she loved when her strength wasn’t enough.

-

Tonight had exactly been that night where Belle’s mind opted not to give her a break. Hazy visions of running around the dark Jeon mansion, not even the guards were present. Then it faded to the house she grew up in with her parents celebrating Taehyungs’ birthday party while she peeked out from her bedroom to watch it.

Then her bedroom now in this current apartment. She forcefully looked to her side and saw a familiar sleeping figure, blurry phoenix tattoo on his chest. His large hand came over to rest of her belly but now she wore a white dress. As he raised his hand up, blood spread from one point all across until the color changed.

Pain jolted in her head when she heard a gunshot.

Belle’s eyes opened.

Everything stilled, light ringing in her ears like she just walked out of a club. Sweat layered in on her skin as if she was really running before passing out on her bed. The ringing got louder. Belle realized it was not coming from her ears but from somewhere in her bedroom.

Exhaustion still pulling at her form, she pushed herself up from the bed to look at her nightstand. Her phone lighting up the entire room as it vibrated against the wood and sounded a ring. A familiar name on the screen: Yoongi.

Brows furrowed, Belle turned on a lamp since going back to sleep again after a dream like that was not likely. She pressed the green button and put the device to her ear. “Yoongi? What’s wrong?” For a moment it felt strange hearing her own voice, still raspy from her slumber.

“Sorry I know it’s late.” Yoongi murmured through the phone.

“It’s alright, I’m up anyway.” Belle scratched the back of her neck lightly, eyes still closing but her mind still too frazzled to let her be pulled back in again. “What is it?”

“Could you—could you come outside? Bring your stuff with you.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, it’s important. I can’t do it during the day so—” Yoongi cleared his throat.

Belle pouted looking at the clock for a moment to see that it was two in the morning. “I’ll be down in five minutes.” She replied quickly before completely getting off her bed and walking to her closet. Leaving her deep blue pajama set on, she merely draped a big coat over her body. Messy hair tied up in a somewhat decent bun as the girl stared in the mirror with a subtle pink tint on her lips to make her look less exhausted. Though the puffiness under her eyes spoke the truth.

Tiptoeing out of her bedroom, she glanced around before seeing the door to Taehyung’s bedroom closed. A part of Belle wanted to let him know that she was going somewhere but at this point, the older male wouldn’t really wake up so it didn’t seem necessary.

So giving one more look over her shoulder the woman placed on some shoes and walked out of the apartment as quietly as she could.

-

The crisp night air was both refreshing and unwelcoming as the moon still smiled onto the world from where Belle was looking. Across the path from the building to the curb where Yoongihad his van parked, she noticed the dew on the grass glimmering under the silver light while the trees whistled in the wind.

Eventually Belles’ gaze fully set on the van where Yoongi had his lights on to ensure she could confirm it was him and not someone trying to lure her. There had been a lot of looming danger for Jungkooks’ enemies to try and put the woman in danger despite their end in marriage. Which was also why the police protection was put in place rather than just keeping her safe from her ex-husband.

Walking to the passenger seat, she opened the door and climbed in without a word spoken until her seatbelt was fully fastened.

“Where’re you taking me?” Belle asked in a calm tone though the lack of information made her heart beat a little too fast for comfort.

“Somewhere I’m not allowed to.” Yoongi answered simply, turning on the engine and letting it purr for a moment before driving off into the street.

Silence took over the cool air of the vehicle adding more fuel to the confusion filling Belle. The streets slowly faded into main roads and then it turned to a highway. She pulled her knees into her chest, looking out the window wondering whether to ask again or just figure it out when the car stopped.

But then Yoongi spoke up for her. “You deserve closure.” His eyes were completely focused on the road, finding it easy to explain himself when he wasn’t meeting her gaze. “We got our jail sentence for Jungkook.” He shrugged. “That was all we wanted. To break his empire down in a status that was manageable. But you—” He glanced for a second after gaining some courage but looked at the road. “Your relationship with Jungkook is more personal than anyone else who wanted him down.” Yoongi took a sharp right turn.

“Aren’t you going to get into trouble?”

“Not if you can keep a secret.” He smirked.

Belle couldn’t help but smile a little. Although now there was a light sink in her belly having to prepare for a meeting she never thought she would have. Police and even her lawyer reassured that she would never see the male again but somehow it didn’t reassure her as much as seeing him on more time did.

-

The car drove into a dark yard, the building towering over the car park with some bright white lights shining inside the cement fences. Yoongi drove towards the metal date, letting the guard at the booth know who he was. A piercing clang echoed through the air as the gate slid open, creaking terribly in its journey.

Slowly inching into the car park, the male drove closest to the building before turning the engine off.

Belle climbed out of the car and stepped towards the entrance. Footsteps crunched against the gravel until the older male stood next to her.

Through the entrance, the two were already welcomed in by the guards. However welcomed was a strong word for blank expressions and monotonous voices. Yoongi was told to stay outside while Belle walked in because only one person was allowed to visit at a time.

-

Past the dank looking halls, Belle walked under the greenish light, all the while hearing howling and moaning from the other side. Indistinctive words but it wasn’t hard to tell they were all expressing misery. Her mind now filled with the vision of that wide sweet smile and warm gaze stuffed into this crowd.

The guard opened a door for her revealing a room with a line of seats. A glass division in front of it. It was mostly empty aside from an elderly woman sobbing while talking to a younger prisoner on the other side.

Belle was gestured to sit in one of the center booths. Hugging her bag to her chest, she did as she was told. Eyes flickered over to the guard on the other side keeping a close on the younger prisoner at the other side. A metal door closed next to him. In the slight silence the girl attempted to take a deep breath and organize what she could say.

Then the metal door clanged open making her jump back a little.

A figure wearing bright orange padded in and sat on the center, eyes not meeting hers yet. He slouched down on the chair, hair mostly tied up except for large piece handing over the side of his face.

When his gaze flickered up, his expression softened and his posture straightened. Jungkook stammered glancing around the room before looking back at Belle almost convinced that this could be a dream. “I thought you weren’t allowed to be here.”

“Do you want me to go?” Belle gripped at her purse tightly, heart pounding against her ribcages at the anticipation of his answer.

“No.” Jungkook pursed his lips together.

Silence plunged between them. Whether it was comfortable or disconcerting was up for debate.

Belle leaned in a little resting her elbows on the little table before her, eyes momentarily glancing down at the little holes made to be one of their ways of clear communication. “I saw the letter.”

It didn’t take Jungkook far too long for his face to soften into one of recognition.

“Were you lying?”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I was?”

Belle let out a shaky sigh, another small lump growing her throat but she swallowed it down. “No.” She shook her head slowly. “I want the truth.”

Jungkook shifted in his position causing the handcuffs around his wrists to clink. “That day I yelled at you…” He stayed silent for a few seconds to take a deep breath. “I realized my priorities were muddled and I needed to figure out what was more important.” Adams apple bobbed up and down as his glossy eyes met hers now. “What I loved the most.”

Lips quivered as the lump only grew in her throat until she had to hang her head. “I didn’t know.” Belle whispered, breathing shakily. “I thought—I thought you didn’t care about us and then I saw Yoongi and—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He answered simply. “Yoongi was going to expose me with how close he was anyway. The new mayor was at my tail, it was bound to—”

“It’s not about the mission.” Belle closed her eyes and emphasized her words, fingers trembling a little. “I hated your job. I hated everything about it but I didn’t hate you.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “When I read that letter that you were going to give everything up for me, I felt—I—”

Jungkook searched the beauty’s expression, leaning in a bit more to maybe catch some warmth from her body or her scent. “What did you feel?” His voice came out in a whisper.

“I felt like I just—gave up something. Something that might’ve made me happy.” Belles’ eyes flooded with tears making her irises blurry before a single drop escaped down her cheek. “I kept thinking about how different it could’ve been if you weren’t who you were. Maybe if you were just… Jungkook and none of this happened. Maybe we’d be happy together.” She chuckled sadly before briefly covering her mouth.

“Would I have made you happy?” He sniffled lightly. “Even after all I did?”

His question floated in the air freely for a few moments as Belle wiped away the escaped tears staining her skin. “Maybe…” She shifted closer. Eyes flickered down at the holes again. Shaky fingers slyly hooked onto two of them not looking back at Jungkooks’ gaze rather looking at down her digits and sighed. “But I can’t…do this all over again on a ‘maybe’.”

Jungkook almost had his forehead pressing against the glass just to feel her close again. Instead the woman initiated the second best thing by putting her fingers through the opening of the glass division. His own rough fingers reached in to caress her soft skin before hooking them on top of hers.

Belle couldn’t help but feel a jolt in her belly feeling his familiar fingers on her again. It was a subtle action but it brought so many long slumbered feelings through her body. They both know this electric magnet between them was a ruse to hide the real truth. What they needed to say but could never admit in real life.

Until now.

“Do you feel happier now?” Jungkook asked, breaking the warm silence.

The real truth. The reason why Belle wanted to come here. Was it a real feeling of longing? Or just a strong attractions towards the comforts she created in the fantasy of her past? No matter how heartbreaking. It was a moment of weakness where the woman could only remember giggling under the sheets with Jungkooks’ warm hands all over her body, eating ice-cream late at night or giving each other reassuring words.

It was at this moment, Belle needed to remember that was only part of the story. Part of the beautiful fantasy they built together but now the show needed to end before anyone else got hurt.

Belle now spoke out the truth.

“I do.” She nodded, smiling through her light tears. “I do feel happier.”

Jungkook couldn’t control a wide smile of his own stretching across his lips hearing those words. “That’s good.” He let out a faint chuckle. “That’s all that should matter to you now, okay?”

Belle hummed lightly in agreement. “I hope you feel happier soon too. Once you’re out of here.”

He nodded finally succumbing to pressing his head gently against the glass, breath fogged up the surface as he spoke. “I’ll try.”

That was all they both needed to hear.

The curtains had been lifted and the fantasy dissipated. All that could be seen now was two broken individuals in their rawest form, making their slow but healthy path to a happier life. One they could finally choose for themselves.

<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>

[ill-skillsgard]

Faust x Faith - No Looking Back

Warning: 18+ smut, public sex, violence, blood, arson, implied death, mentions of non-consensual touching (nothing explicit and no r-words used,) mentions of stalking, unconsciousness, anti-religious themes, strong language.

Note: Hey, hey. I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but haven’t had much time. This isn’t based on any requests—just something I feel needs to happen to move the universe along. After this, I’ll be basing future FxF stuff off drabble requests instead of going story-heavy for a bit. Likes, comments and reblogs are suuuper ‘ppreciated!

Summary: - Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration - 3.6K words -

Faust makes good on his word to protect Faith, taking drastic measures to assure her assailant never bothers her again.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

Thin raindrops pattered the man's leather jacket as he walked through the streets with his hood drawn up and his eyes low. For two days, the drizzle persisted and melted the black snowbanks into slush. Though the dismal atmosphere kept most inside, Sven had good reason to travel across town on foot. The promise of a girl's company waited at the end of his route, and he put off his regular nightly routine of masturbating to fetish porn for—what he hoped was—the real thing.

He glanced at his cracked phone screen every few minutes to check in with her, making sure she hadn't changed her mind, that she was serious. From the earnestness of her messages and the speed at which she replied to his questions, he determined she meant what she said about wanting to meet. Finally, his luck was turning. He’d show that miserable bastard Faust who was the better man.

- What abt ur bf? Lol

- What about him? Not here, is he?

- Thought u were a good girl.

- Haha, not really. Are you close?

- Ya. Y r we meeting at this random place?

- I need you to promise you won't tell a soul. If you can prove that to me, maybe we can keep meeting up.

- Lol ok. I PROMISE I won't say a word😉

- Thank you. Hurry, please. It's cold out!

- Be there in 5. I'll let u wear my jacket altho idk might not need it😉

- Hehe omgosh. You're making me blush.

- I'll make u do way more then blush baby. Just wait.

Sven lengthened his strides and turned the corner onto a hill leading toward the industrial area of town. Down the slope, he walked past several warehouses and legions of trucks parked inside barbed-wire fencing. It was a peculiar site to meet up, but his rendezvous insisted on a place nobody would think to look.

Betting his night would take an erotic turn, Sven popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed away the cigarette taste. He was seconds away from the spot she chose to meet, and his chest constricted with excitement. His boots crunched over gravel and garbage as he walked down a narrow alley between two faceless buildings. There was an open lot at the end of the lane, where he assumed she was waiting. As he made his way through the dimly lit alley, he whistled to make his presence known. The shrill tune reverberated off an overflowing dumpster to his left, and as he stepped to clear the reeking trash receptacle, something hard and blunt swung out at eye-level and flattened him to the ground.

Dazed and blinded from the sudden strike, he tried moving his mouth, but only a bubble of blood popped from his lips. A piercing stream of sound filled his ears as the edges of his vision turned dark. A large black figure came into view above, haloed by the soggy grey sky in the deepening veil. The featureless shadow chuckled deeply before a heavy boot's tread put out his lights.

~*~

Several hours passed before Sven's eyelids shuddered. By then, his assailant had had plenty of time to tie him to a wooden chair and organize his instruments of punishment. A headache blistered through the man's skull, throbbing in his eye sockets until he gained enough consciousness to open them. When he saw the person who had knocked him out, his throat closed and the gasp ripping through came out high-pitched.

"Faust... Please... Don't—" Sven hiccoughed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY!"

Faust, who had been facing the doorway at the end of a long red runner, turned toward Sven, holding a hammer's handle in one hand while cradling the head in the other. A malicious smirk peeked out from a curtain of black hair. He took a step forward, the clomp of his leather boots echoing through the church. Each step made a menacing sound that bit down on Sven's nerves and rattled his sensitive skull.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you hate me, but please, don't hurt me. I swear I'll never talk to her again!"

Faust approached, flashing the obsidian hammerhead. He tossed the tool in his grip and stuck his hand into his pocket, producing several five-inch nails.

"No! God, no, please! Faust! Don't do this!"

The black-haired giant stopped to admire the curve of the hammer’s prongs. Sven looked around the empty church and saw a jerrycan taking up space in a nearby pew. He immediately started struggling against the jute rope binding his wrists and ankles to the chair as Faust drew nearer, smile uncoiling.

"I already gave you the chance to never talk to her again. Remember?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry means fuck all to me. You should know that. The only reason you left the campsite with your dick intact is because of the witnesses," Faust said, then spun around with his arms out, showcasing their solitude. "Now, it's just you and me."

"Please don't," Sven muttered through swollen lips. "Fuck, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing a sorry sack of human waste can provide this world to make me change my mind."

"SHE LIED!"

Faust jingled the nails in his jacket, reminding Sven who held the weapon.

"Whatever she told you... It's not true! I was at the party, but I didn't do anything to her!" Sven's voice cracked.

"Oh... So you didn't follow her into my bedroom?"

"No! I talked to her for a minute, and that's all. That's all, I swear, Faust. Don't kill me."

The stomp of boots neared the altar where Sven struggled in the chair. He twisted to loosen the rope and slipped one hand out. Faust grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the arm of the chair, readying a nail between his lips as he gripped the hammer. Sven let out a scream, stifled instantly by the hammerhead. Faust wedged the metal between his teeth and hissed.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll use this to smash your teeth out like a goddamn window. Understand me?"

Sven nodded and quaked as Faust placed the tip of the nail against the soft, flat part of his forearm.

"Stay still. If I fuck up and hit the Radial or Ulnar artery... You could bleed out before I'm done. Gotta get it right between the bones." Faust slapped the pale skin to reveal blue veins. He pressed the nail’s tip in place and rose the hammer above his head, bringing it down and stopping short of the head as Sven shrieked.

Faust cackled. "Jesus Christ, dude. Did you really think I was gonna nail you to a chair?"

Sven groaned, relieved and moist with cold sweat. "Faust, I'm serious. Please, man. You gotta believe me."

His dark laughter continued, bouncing off the high ceilings, the wooden pews and polished floors. As Sven let out his own nervous chuckle, Faust brought the hammer down in one swift pull, then slapped his hand over Sven's gaping mouth to stifle the screams. Howling, Sven rattled his head back and forth as a searing bolt of pain tore through his right arm, crackling in his shoulder where it burned and burned.

Faust tore his phone out of his back pocket and brought up a video, slamming the screen into Sven's face. The video of him grabbing Faith in his room while he was states away watching the live feed from the camera he'd set up on the desk.

"I knew these little cameras would come in handy. See? I know what you did, you stupid fuck. And you know what else? I would have just beat the shit out of you had I not stopped by your place before our little meeting."

Sven whined, tears pouring from his eyes in steady streams.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I went into your room... Saw some interesting things on your computer. At first, I thought it was just standard fucking creep shit. Snuff porn, torture... Teen girls. None of that surprised me... Until I dug around and found your little stalker file buried in your folders. You didn't even encrypt it. How fucking stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry," Sven shook.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry for touching her. I should have left her alone."

"What'd you think was gonna happen? That she wouldn't tell me? Or that I wouldn't believe her? And now I know you've been following Faith around, taking pictures of her, you fucking predator. And what about those other women, huh? You sorry about them, too?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I know I have problems! I'm trying to get help. Please, Faust. If you let me go, I promise I'll do it. I'll get better. I haven’t hurt anyone!"

Faust shook his head slowly, grunting in refusal. "No. I meant what I said when I told you I'd crucify you if you went near Faith again. I'm doing the world a favour."

Sven hung his head and bled from the grievous wound pinning him to the chair, shuddering weakly from his injuries. Faust would never relent. He'd witnessed the drummer's cold disdain, the malignant hatred living inside that made him turn to the dark with open arms. Faust wasn't an actor. He pledged himself to the darkness with unyielding conviction, never one to take such things lightly. This realization depleted Sven's will to reason with the man.

Faust gripped another thick nail and drove it through Sven's left arm, smiling as blood dripped from the wood onto the church altar. The violent yelps filled Faust with morbid delight as he pressed the bloodied hammer under his victim's chin and raised his face.

"You're gonna die tonight, Sven."

"What makes you better than me? You'll be a murderer," Sven stuttered. "You hurt people, too."

"You and I are not the same. Don't ever compare yourself to me. You're a coward, and I warned you. Tread on what's mine, and I'll destroy you. That's what I said."

"All this over a girl? Are you fucking crazy!?"

Faust stooped to one knee, looking up at Sven as though the insult had cut him. Faust's brows arched, bottom lip jutting outward as he studied Sven, who closed his eyes. Then, Faust rose to his feet, leather stretching from the motion. Faust tapped his chin, smiled, and leaned over to whisper, "yes... Totally fucking crazy."

With a powerful kick to the chest, Faust sent the chair and Sven toppling backward. He then unzipped his pants, pulled out his manhood and giggled as he emptied his bladder on the weeping man. While Sven cried and moaned, Faust closed his zipper, whistling merrily. He left Sven on his back and snatched the jerrycan from the pew, taking slow, calculated steps while twisting off the cap and dousing the altar in gasoline.

As the gas trickled, Sven's desperation mounted. He could not flail, so he screamed. Faust gently reminded him what he'd do to Sven's teeth if he carried on shouting. The pinned man blubbered and begged, but Faust ignored his pleas. Inside his head, all Faust heard was the sound of flames rushing into a circle around Sven, crackling over the carpet and up the old church's wooden beams. By the time the roof caught fire, Faust had planned on being long gone.

"Please, Faust... You'll regret this! I know you're a serious person, but this is too far. You won't be able to live with yourself!"

"Wrong. I couldn't live with myself knowing I let a vulture like you walk this planet freely." Faust poured a trail down the floor runner, far away from the altar. He tossed the can aside and looked up at the Catholic saints' stained-glass portrayals and Jesus at the center of it all, staring down with sad eyes. Faust took a book of matches from his pocket and ripped one from the bunch, running its tip across the ignitor strip until a small flame burst to life. Faust flicked the match to the ground without a second thought, and the flame ate up the gasoline trail swiftly. The church was illuminated, and the colourful glass windows came to life. Faust raised his eyes to the forlorn Jesus and leered while the fire spread.

He did not stay to admire his work or revel in the cries of a man burning alive. Faust fled before the fire consumed the church, not once looking back or wondering if his victim had somehow escaped. He trudged through puddles of slush, hair swinging in the wind, white shadows of breath leaving his mouth.

It was time to get back to finish the tour. But he had one more stop to make.

~*~

Faith left the mall after helping close the book store. She received small smiles and nods from the mall staff as they locked doors and unfolded security gates. Some of the people she had spoken to before, and some she had only seen in passing. Though she returned their pleasantries, inside Faith was fretting. She tried not to worry about her boyfriend or ask where he was under strict orders to go about her day as usual.

She stepped into the evening air as the sun sank, taking the blue from the sky along for the descent. Wisps of white cloud stretched across the pink and violet above. Faith took in a deep breath and walked to the bus stop situated between a movie theatre and a dollar store. She popped her earbuds in and turned on a song that reminded her of Faust; one he wouldn’t like. His music taste had no room for the upbeat indie rock she enjoyed. Still, she smiled when the lyrics reminded her of him.

The scent of cigarette smoke caught her attention, and she looked around, finding no culprit. She wondered where the smell came from if nobody was around but soon forgot when the city bus appeared in the distance. It had to make a long trek around the parking lot before it pulled up at the movie theatre. Faith readied her bus card to scan as another cloud of smoke enveloped her senses.

Faith whirled around, and there he was, all black and leather, white teeth clutching the filter of a cigarette. Faust smiled, his words bolting from his mouth as she clamped her arms around him and crushed her face into his chest. The leather and musk brought tears to her eyes. She ripped out her earbuds and tried not to weep.

He hushed her, lifted her off the ground and retreated into the shadowed alley between the theatre and the store. By the time the bus pulled up, Faust had pressed her against the brick wall behind the building.

"Faust. Oh my gosh, where have you been? I was so worried," Faith gasped.

"Sh, don't ask questions, baby." Faust smothered her mouth, holding her thighs around his waist.

"Mm—I love you. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I love you so freaking much."

"I know you do," Faust breathed against her lips. "I love you, too, babe."

"Tell me where you've been!"

Faust shook his head and kissed her neck instead. She raked her fingers through his hair, knocking his hood down so she could see him unobstructed.

"Told you... Don't ask... Mmkay?... Stop asking... Just let me... Mm—fuck!"

Faith pulled his pelvis inward with her thighs, rubbing against his crotch and the heavy bullet belt wrapped around his hips. In their cloud of lust, Faust pushed his black jeans down just enough to free his erection.

"Fuck, I love your little skirts. Makes it so easy," Faust murmured.

The thought of Faust showing up disquieted her, but his lips on her skin and his desire thwarted these anxieties for a while. She set aside her questions, happy to have him in her arms again and overcome by arousal. When he stretched her panties aside and pushed into her, they both froze in expressions of excruciating ecstasy. Faust tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and Faith clutched his shoulders, already writhing from the intense fulfillment between her legs.

Just as she thought Faust might drop her, he bent his knees and hoisted her higher up on the wall. In his arms, she weighed close to nothing. She missed feeling tiny against him.

"Miss my cock?" He growled in her ear.

"Yes, baby. Oh my gosh, of course, I missed it. I missed my big man."

"Yeah? Fuck, I miss my little pussy," Faust breathed. "Mm, show me those gorgeous tits."

Faith unbuttoned her work polo and stretched the collar down around her breasts for Faust to bury his face. Though there wasn't an abundance of flesh to lose himself in, Faust shivered from the first taste of her nipples. With muted groans of pleasure, he rammed into her until Faith could no longer contain her cries, unaccustomed to his girth. Faust absorbed her whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue until she only hummed.

He felt ferocious from the last twenty-four hours. If he could make Faith scream without drawing attention, Faust would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she shredded her vocal cords. He had to keep a low profile. Even visiting Faith was a considerable risk, but one he relished taking as she clamped her thighs and rutted against him.

He supported her ass in both hands and shifted off the wall to fuck her standing up. While he took her this way, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered, whispering, "yes, fuck my pussy hard, big boy. Oh, I love that big cock inside me."

Faust unhooked and held her out so he could watch her breasts jiggle with every bounce. "You still taking your birth control? I'm gonna fucking bust so hard inside you, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, do it. Fill my pussy, please. I want your cum."

Her dirty talk and sweet sobs for his cock pushed him over the edge. He cradled her head as he pushed her against the wall and throbbed between her legs until empty. Faust pulled out and immediately turned her around and bent her over to watch globs of fresh cum dripping from her wet slit. He used one finger to push some of it back inside and had her suck off the rest. Afterward, he pulled up his pants and compressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other worked her clit in gentle circles. Faust didn't stop until she squealed and shuddered against him, muffled in his jacket and writhing from the manual orgasm.

When Faith calmed down, he released her and stepped away, pulling a cigarette from the squished pack in his jacket pocket. The lighter's flame created an orange halo around his face and promptly died. He smoked like nothing had happened while she fixed her skirt, buttoned her polo and zipped up her coat.

Faith smiled up at her lover, the night blotting out most of his features.

"I'm so glad you're home," she said.

"Not for long," Faust exhaled.

Her heart quivered. "Wait, what?"

"I gotta go back."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"What? No! But... You just got back," said Faith.

Faust shrugged, his leather jacket speaking for him. The evening matured, consuming the details of her hurt expression until the streetlamps along the road came to life.

"Why did you come here?"

Faust took one last long haul off his cigarette and flicked it down the alleyway. "Listen to me, Faith... You need to quit asking questions. I'm serious. The more questions you ask, the worse it'll be. And you and I did not see each other tonight. As far as you know, I'm on tour. Understand?"

"Yes," Faith said to appease him.

"I want to stay, trust me. But I can't. You know why. All the answers you want, you already have. Don't keep bugging, don't mention it ever again."

"I want to go with you," she whispered.

"No. You stay. Go to your classes, go to work, go visit your parents. Everything normal. And I don't want you moping around either. You put on that pretty smile, and you pretend for me. I'll call you in a couple of weeks before the last show and arrange a way for you to get there."

"What do you mean you’ll call in couple of weeks?" Faith whined. “What about goodnights?”

"I don't have a phone anymore."

"Why—? Oh, um... Okay. I understand."

Faust gathered the girl up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Good girl. I love you, and I miss you."

"I love you, too."

He tipped her face up and sensed tears forming in her eyes. Faust shook his head. "No crying. We'll see each other very soon. Just a couple more weeks."

"I know," she sighed.

"I love you more than anything, Faith. Now, go catch your bus. Should be here in a few minutes."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm on tour. I'm not even here," he explained.

Faust kissed her again, smoothed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face the bus stop. He urged her along. "No looking back. Hop on the bus and go do your schoolwork."

"Okay," she said, determined to make him proud. Faith walked out of the shadows and into the lamplight hovering over the depot. Across the lot, the city bus pulled in, and though she longed to turn around to see Faust watching over her, she kept her eyes forward and waited. When the bus pulled up, and the doors drew back, she stepped onto the platform and smiled at the driver as she scanned her pass. Faith took a seat in the back and put in her earbuds. She searched through a list of bands and selected the only one whose logo was illegible. As she pressed play, she listened to the immediate assault of the drums, their constant and violent beat. Faith smiled—warm in her chest and between her legs.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

“i fucked up.”

hello, hi!

here’s the spencer reid angst that came from this prompt here; “can you write some angst where spencer and the reader work together in the bau and he does something incredibly stupid in and reckless and she’s so frustrated and upset with him that she doesn’t talk to him the whole rest of the case/ride home & then they have a big fight when they get back to their place and it ends with her confessing she’s scared of losing him and that’s why she got so upset?”

just like smut, angst isn’t something i am very good at so i hope this did some justice to the prompt which i really enjoyed writing. some anger, some upset, some drama... all in one story so i hope it is what you wanted when requesting what you asked me to write. if anyone has any ideas on what i can write then don’t hesitate to send it in - i’ll eventually get to it, hahaha.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

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“i fucked up” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 4.1k.

summary; when spencer chooses to do something reckless in the field, he gets himself injured and doesn’t think of the consequences afterwards.

-

As soon as YN saw Spencer take his vest off and place his gun back in the holster, her gut dropped.

She wanted to shout at him and persuade him not to do what he was thinking of doing but he already had Hotch shouting orders for him to stay back, she wanted to chase after him but Morgan was already on that whilst calling his name to get him to look back and take a think about what he was about to become a part of, she wanted to grab his discarded vest from where he had dropped it in his haste to get into the house without being a threat to the unsub and secure it back around his middle and strap it back over his shoulders because, to her, there was no way she would have let him go into the house without it. The gun could only do so much in a situation and it wasn’t going to protect him if he was caught in the crossfire and shot in the chest and left to bleed to death because he was trying to do something good.  

All she could do, much to her annoyance, was stay put behind the car with her gun cocked, to be another set of eyes on the scene to catch anyone who could make a potential run for an escape without realising the house was surrounded and that they had nowhere to go but the arms of a cop of who had handcuffs at the ready and a gun cocked and ready to shoot of they tried to play smart. She couldn’t run in, all guns blazing and allow her emotional side to take over to stop him when he was already doing what he spontaneously thought of,  because who knows what that would have set off and she probably would have made the problem even bigger than it needed to be.

She felt sick when he disappeared behind the shrubbery, out of sight for everyone but Morgan, who was hot on his heels, and into the unknown.

All they could do, on the outside, was wait and see what happened. Everyone kept a sharp eye and ear out for any sounds of a struggle, any hints of the unsub escaping, any weapons cocking or grunts from an attempt to injure someone, any shouts for help and any calls for back-up or for a medic because Spencer had really gotten himself into a problem and Morgan couldn’t handle it by himself.

Hotch kept making the occasional glance in her direction, which she chose to ignore because he was the head of the team and he should have done more to stop Spencer from going ahead with whatever he thought he was doing and he should have followed him into to scene to order him back out to wait and stand around with everyone else, and she could hear Morgan’s occasional updates over their radios and the distant ‘clear’ being said when each room had been checked which brought her some sense of comfort but the inevitable was still yet to happen. That unsub was still in the house, no one had left and no one had gotten an order for half of the team to go to another address because they had the wrong place and the person they were after wasn’t where they were, and YN knew it wasn’t exactly going to be an arrest that was made easy. 

It wasn’t until she heard a panicked call for Hotch and for some kind of back-up that she looked at him, tightening the vest to her chest and re-cocking her gun to shoot anyone that threatened to come her way with a weapon with a focus on nothing but to injure her to get passed her, and he didn’t have to give her the go-ahead glance because she was already passed the car and up the front lawn steps before anyone else was prepped and ready to be her back-up.

She could hear struggles from the back room and, as horrible as it sounded in her mind, she prayed it was Morgan in the middle of the scrap - at least Derek could deal and fight back at anyone who came at him with fists balled and arms raised up.

It wasn’t Morgan, she knew that deep down in the back of her mind and she didn’t need to see a visual to know that Morgan was the one who stood in the corner of the room whilst announcing back-up was required and a medic was needed desperately because there was a ‘man down’, and when she saw Spencer on the floor, as a victim to someone’s severe and unstable behaviour, work protocol on loved ones went out the window. She shot at the thigh of the unknown subject, watching them fall to the ground in pain and angrily throwing insults and anger towards her, allowing Morgan the opportunity to hold his arms behind his back and cuff him so he could do no more damage to anyone, but she didn’t even care about what he was calling her or his feeble attempts to break her because all she could focus on was the lanky man curled up on the floor with a bloodied lip and a swollen eye and his arms cradling his chest as he winced in pain.

“You stupid idiot,” she hissed at him, crouching down to his level and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Deep down, she cared about him and she hated how angry she felt towards him for being hurt but that same anger was at a level in her body that was strong enough to push her caring thoughts aside; regardless of her love for him, what he did was stupid, it was unnecessary and it got him in the bad books. “What the hell were you thinking? In fact, no. No, you weren’t thinking at all. I don’t know what happened but whatever you were trying to be, whoever you were trying to impress, you were stupid for even thinking you could do it alone.”

“YN-”

“No,” she held her index finger up at him and halted him from even beginning his sentence. Blood dribbled slowly down his chin from a cut that would definitely require some kind of stitch, soaking into the collar of his striped shirt and leaving a patch that kept expanding into the fabric, “Spencer, you don’t get to say anything right now. You were stupid, reckless, careless. Did you even think about what you were doing? You knew how dangerous this man is yet you came in and thought you could save the day.”

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulder, pulling her back from Spencer to allow the medics to take a once over and determine whether he needed medical attention from a hospital or whether they could fix him in the ambulance outside, one medic crouching down by his face and taking note of the cuts and bruises on his lips and around his eyes and nose and one medic kneeling down behind him to have a feel of where he was sore around his body.

“Being angry at him won’t help the situation right now,” Hotch murmured, guiding her out of the house, away from the scene and back out in the open. All eyes seemed to be on them, JJ giving her a sympathetic smile and Blake squeezing her hand soothingly as Hotch walked the both of them down the steps. He had no plans to stop in his tracks so the girls could ‘gossip’ about what had just happened. “He almost got himself killed and I’ll have that conversation with him when we’re alone and when he’s better and able to understand. I don’t need you doing my job for me.”

“I’m sorry but-”

“No buts, agent YLN,” he interrupted, leaving her at the passenger side of the black SUV she had arrived in. Arms folded over his chest, his tie a little skew whiff and twisting under his forearms, his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled with frown lines. “I advise you to keep your personal life out of the field next time, okay? What he did was wrong, he went against the team, but we don’t need a scene in the middle of a crime scene. Be professional about this and sort your problems out on your own terms.”

He turned around and walked back towards the house, leaving her reeling in her boots, angrily placing her gun in her holster and yanking the car door open. With a slam behind her, she got comfy in the front seat and folded her arms across her padded chest, watching as cop after cop after cop passed the car and briefly glanced at her - she felt embarrassed, to say the least, but what was she supposed to do? Fall to her knees and cry because her boyfriend had been brutally beaten by a killer? Ignore the fact that her boyfriend was bruised and bloody in the middle of a musky living room so she could place attention on the one person who didn’t truly deserve it? Stand amongst the crime scene, arrest the man who had killed for fun, and completely ignore how they’d used hands and feet to take down and assault an agent?

There was no chance.

She watched as they arrested the bloke, seating him in the back of a police car that was parked two vehicles up from the one she was seated in, feeling sick to her stomach at the sight of the smirk and humour that laced his features together. He truly was one sick son of a bitch and she knew he was getting what was coming to him; not only the murder of four women but the assault of a federal agent when resisting arrest and she couldn’t wait to watch him get sent to rot in a cell for the rest of his life.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a gurney roll across the tarmac. Spencer was stretched down the thin bed, an oxygen mask tight to his face, and three medical examiners surrounding him, pushing him towards the back of the ambulance waiting to take him to the closest hospital so he could be checked over. She should have been going with him, holding his hand and agreeing on meeting the rest of the team back at the airport before boarding the jet home, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the vehicle. Treating it like it was locked, like she had no way of escape.

“Are you not going with him?”

Morgan made her jump; she hadn’t heard him open the car door and she must of missed him seating himself in the driver's seat, a hint of concern in his voice as he clipped the seatbelt around him.

“I don’t want to see him right now,” she admitted guiltily, looking down at her fingers and picking at her thumbnails, “Morgan, he makes me so angry when he does things like that. He’s not some kind of superman, for god sake. I don’t know why he thinks he can do that and come out unscathed.”

“He thought he was doing the right thing,” Morgan said; Spencer’s actions didn’t need justification from someone else. He needed to justify his own actions and he needed to realise he wasn’t someone that could pull off something as confident as that and have the same outcome as someone who had done it before. “He had the right idea at heart. He thought he was less threatening going in with nothing, to show we weren’t here for a fight-”

“And look where that got him,” YN scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking out the window and watching the ambulance, holding Spencer, roll passed the car and disappear behind the group of people who had come out to be nosey at all of the commotion, “I can’t see him or speak to him right now because if I do, I’ll shout at him. And I don’t want to shout at him. I don’t want to but he makes me want to, Derek.”

“You don’t have to shout at him,” he reasoned, “just sit him down, hear him out and show him where he went wrong. Tell him how it made you feel. Maybe it’ll do him some good to have a calm conversation because Hotch will have his ass on that jet for being so reckless.”

He started the engine with the key in the ignition and shifted it into gear, driving off soon after the ambulance had been cleared to leave, following Hotch’s SUV out of the crowd and down the quiet street. Gaining speed as the tyres rolled over the tarmac, going in the direction of the airport.

No matter how disappointed and angry she was at what he’d done, she hoped Spencer wasn’t seriously injured.

+

Home had never felt so... unhomely.

Usually, upon their arrival and cramped in the elevator on the way up to their floor, they were making plans before they got to their front door. Choosing what takeaway they were going to order from, telling the other what they fancied to eat so they could whittle down the long list of local restaurants and decide one that catered to both of their needs, deciding on what film they were going to watch before they went to bed and chucking ideas around for what they could do to pass the time until their food had arrived. 

Except, this time, the elevator ride was quiet and she wished she took the stairs so she didn’t have to stand so close to him. There was no talking and no silly disputes over what film they wanted to watch for the night, even though he wanted to desperately hear her voice talk to him about something pointless rather than hearing her voice talk about him to someone else; he was fed up of being the topic of someone’s gossip. There was no conversation about getting dinner in, there was no indication that a conversation on any topic should have been started and there was no reason to make small talk when she was angry with him. She was tunnel-visioned for nothing but pure astonishment and rage and there was no way she would have made a conversation through to the end without mentioning how stupid he was. He certainly wasn’t going to force her to talk to him if she didn’t want to; as much as it pained him, more than the bruised ribs and the black eye that was now forming around his left eye, he respected that and if she needed time then time is what she was going to get from him.

It was late when they landed so he wasn’t surprised when she walked into the bedroom without kissing him goodnight, without telling him she was going to bed without food, without telling him goodnight and that she loved him and would be waiting for him to get himself ready for bed. The door closing behind her, a thud from her bag colliding with the floor echoing throughout their apartment, the muffled and wobbly sigh that left her mouth could be heard from where he stood in the entryway and he couldn’t bear to think that she was about let all of her pent-up emotions out silently.

The argument they had had as soon as the case had come to an end had driven a wedge between them for the entire night, with the drive to the airport and the flight home feeling awkward, with  tension that could have been sliced with a knife. She couldn’t sleep on the ride home because all she could picture was him in pain, she couldn’t look at him as he stretched out on the sofa of the jet because he looked pained and she couldn’t talk to him because her cover would have been blown - she was pained but she didn’t want him to know that, not just yet. She wanted him to squirm and have his mind reeling to gain some kind of understanding, because he wasn’t an idiot when it came to reading the room, on why she had such an outrage at his poor decision.

Home… neither of them could consider it home when it didn’t feel like it.

+

If Spencer was known for one thing, it would be his ability to sneak around without being detected.

The chill in the air that filled their living space had gotten too much for him to bear, even with the woollen socks pulled on his feet and the jumper he tugged on in a haste to leave the bedroom and the throw blanket he picked up from the back of the sofa to wrap himself up in before he fell asleep. The cushions weren’t exactly his pillow from the bedroom, the sofa cushions weren’t the memory foam mattress he slept upon during three or four nights of the week, the glaring red light from the television had nothing compared to the street lamp that was directly set outside their bedroom window and the whirring of the electrical appliances in the kitchen were much more of a distraction than relaxing. 

Arguments were rare between the two of them. Silly spats and sarcasm had been top level in terms of arguing - they could never make it through to the end of fiery hash of words without feeling guilty for something they said in the spur of the moment - and how they argued couldn’t have even classed as verbally fighting each other because they weren’t going for the jugular of the problem. 

Any creak of the floorboards beneath his feet or a sudden squeak of the bedroom door would have woken YN up in sudden fright. 

To him, as he stood in the doorway and a little distance away from her, she looked so peaceful as she laid curled up beneath the comforter, staying strictly on her side of the bed. But, as he tiptoed closer to the edge of her side of the bed and knelt down, he could see the streaks dried on her cheeks. The bags under her eyes, the soreness underneath her nose from the tissues that had been balled up and left on the bedside table, it was enough to make him realise that she’d silently cried herself to sleep.

“I fucked up,” he whispered, his palm cupping her face and feeling the dried tears underneath the pad of his thumb as he stroked the curve gently, moving the hair that had stuck to her skin, “baby, I fucked up massively and I’m so, so sorry-”

“Yeah, you fucked up massively,” she mumbled under her breath, loudly enough for him to hear her, signifying that she was awake and confirming the curiosity he had on whether she was deeply sleeping or trying to doze off without overthinking everything that had happened that day. She cracked an eye open and could just see the black silhouette of his body as he crouched down to her level, the street lights outside of their apartment complex filtering through the slit of the curtains covering their window and outlining him otherwise she wouldn’t have seen him through her tired eyes, his elbows resting on the edge of the mattress. “You put yourself in so much danger, Spencer. Fucked up isn’t even the right way to put it.”

“I know,” he sighed heavily, his hand still laying upon her cheek, “and you have no idea how sorry I am. I don’t know what came over me, I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to go in with no protection, I don’t know what made me think I could defy Hotch’s orders. I just knew I had to try and do something to get the unsub to come with us willingly and to not resist,” his voice sounded sincere, incredibly apologetic, and when she turned on the bedside lamp and let it fill the room with light (much to her sore eyes), his face matched his voice. Eyes full of forlorn distress, tiredness stinging at the corners and each blink felt like a papercut to his eyeballs, he looked exhausted and he held so much guilt in his stature. “YN, if I could take it back then I would.”

“Yeah, tell that to the bruised ribs and the black eye.”

The purplish, yellow ring around his eye looked horrific, stretching from his temple to the inner corner of his eye and in such a liquified state that had purple fading into yellow and yellow fading to the darkest of blues where he had been hit the hardest. The stitches on his lip looked painful, holding together the cut that had split from a knuckle to his mouth, a little blood having leaked out when he spoke, his mouth looking swollen and she could tell he struggled to speak and pronounce his words with ease.. 

He felt stupid, demoralised, and he was only brought back to the pain that throbbed below his chest when she pointed it out and reminded him of the injuries he pertained when trying to be the one who could bring the stalemate between the police and the unsub to its end.

“I’m still angry with you,” she grumbled, “but, if you’re coming to lay down, then hurry up so I can go back to sleep again.”

“Scoot over, maybe?” He wondered sheepishly, a scoff leaving her mouth that he didn’t take to heart because of the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Obeying him, she threw the comforter from her body and began pushing herself along the width of the mattress until she was laid on the chilly and untouched side of her bed. The sheets wrinkling up beneath her body, and comforter made her feel cold - that was, until she felt him climb in beside her, leaning against the headboard and revelling in the warmth she had left behind in her place and closing his eyes in contentment. “You’re warm. You make the living room feel like the north pole.”

“Are you comfy enough?” She asked, looking at him from where she laid her head on his pillow, “do you want your jumper off?”

He nodded and cracked an eye open, looking down at her and smiling. She sat herself back up, moving onto her knees so she had easier access and a little bit of a stronger posture to pull the thick maroon jumper from his upper body, making sure not to jostle or nudge any of the areas that he had been punched, kicked and beaten over the last 6 hours. When his upper body became bare, she couldn’t help but look at the bruises that were forming under his nipples and the cuts that covered his upper arms and around his shoulders. 

“It helps not to look at them,” he stated. But her eyes barely left the purple blemishes covering his chest, her fingers instinctively brushing over them, “they’ll go within a week. Maybe two. They won’t be so garishly purple then.”

“I hate you for this,” she frowned, retracting her hand when she heard him wince painfully, only then did her eyes meet his. One black and one a little red-rimmed and full of sleep. “I hate that you did what you did. But, I’m sorry for overreacting. I should have looked after you.”

“No,” he cooed and shook his head, “you had every right to react the way you did. You worried, you needed time to cool off, it’s okay. It doesn’t make me upset that you didn’t talk to me for the night.”

“Yeah, but, I made you sleep on the sofa, Spence. Out in the cold, with cuts and bruises and sore ribs, cramped up in this condition,” she mentally slapped herself in the face for being so stupid and so ignorant, her eyes drifting back down to the bruising, “god, they’re so horrible.”

“I’m okay,” he reassured her, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know but,” he grabbed her hands and shushed her, shaking his head, stopping her every time she tried to continue the conversation, “Spencer-”

“We don’t need to dwell on what happened. We need to focus on now and, right now, we need a cuddle and a good night's sleep and an early morning so we can eat a good breakfast before we go to work,” he smiled, her arms bracing her weight as she straightened her legs from underneath her and cosied down upon the mattress, the light switching off and succumbing the room into darkness, the only way she could really know he was getting cosy was the movement and the jostling of the mattress beneath her.

She was hesitant to even rest her head upon his chest because she didn’t want to cause him more pain.

“You won’t hurt me. You couldn’t possibly hurt me.”

[dirtyhelen]

with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part two

PART TWO: i’m in your head now, from every second now Series Masterlist Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Mature Featuring: Angst; Fluff; No Additional Warnings Words: 7894 Summary: So, you had sex with a co-worker under the influence of a super-powered aphrodisiac. What do you do now? A/N: First of all, BIG thank you to everyone who liked/replied/reblogged Part 1!! Honestly overwhelmed by how lovely you all are 🤗 Second of all, there is no smut in this part so if you wanna skip this one and catch up on Part 3 (which does have smut) I totally get it and you will receive no judgment from me!! Sorry for the wait on this one, Part 3 won’t take this long I promise! ________________________________________________________________

You sleep for a long time, deep and dreamless, and wake to the hot midday sun streaming in through your open curtains. You’d been so out of it the night before you hadn’t even bothered to shut them. For a moment or two it feels like a normal day, albeit a lazy one. Like sleeping in on Sunday and waking up easy and refreshed. You reach for your phone to check the time when recollection kicks in, reminding you exactly why you’re in bed at noon on a Friday, stripping away any feelings of peace or rest. You want to stay in bed, bury yourself under the covers until you die. Or at least until someone from the compound reaches out to you, but there’s too much nervous energy thrumming under your skin, making you restless and jittery and you finally give in and leave the warm cocoon of your blankets. You spend the day at home, stress-cleaning your entire apartment and stress-eating your entire fridge, vacillating between panic and calm. One minute you’re stuffing your face with week-old stir-fry and checking your phone with every mouthful; the next you’re elbow-deep in dishwater, resigned to your fate – whatever it may be. In worried moments, you can’t imagine how you can possibly go back to the compound after everything that’s happened. How can you discuss schedules and mission reports when everyone you work with knows you got railed by an Avenger on one of the jets they use to fly around saving the world? How can you face Bucky again? Even if he doesn’t blame you for what happened, he’s bound to have some negative feelings about the whole thing. About sleeping with you. It’s not like you’d been friends before. Not like he’s been harbouring secret romantic feelings like you have. If Bucky’s harbouring any secret feelings about you, they’re probably feelings of annoyance and dislike. What if every time he looks at you now he’s reminded of how you begged, needy and naked and pathetic, for him to fuck you? What if he’s disgusted by you? Somehow that’s the worst thought of all. That the first person – the only person – to have seen your body laid bare, to have touched you in the most intimate ways possible might be repulsed, not by what happened, but because it happened with you. It’s a thought you try not to dwell on for long, but you come back to it over and over throughout the day. Each time, shame and self-loathing and heartache flood your body until you force yourself to think about something else. To eat something else, clean something else. You remind yourself there’s no point worrying about things that might never happen. You’ll only have to endure the reactions from Bucky and the team if you actually go back to work, which might not be an option anymore. No one’s reached out to you all day – no calls, no emails, no texts – and the radio silence has you fearing the worst. That no one has reached out because they’re busy working on your termination paperwork. As the hours slip by, those moments of calm get fewer and further between. By the time you’ve eaten all there is to eat, cleaned all there is to clean, and paced what feels like a hundred miles across the length of your apartment it’s nearly midnight and the only messages you’ve gotten all day are promotional emails and a meme from one of your friends back home. You wish you could talk to her, tell her about everything and get another perspective, but the ironclad NDA you signed on your first day of work rules out telling pretty much anyone other than the Avengers and their support staff – none of whom you want to talk about this with. If nothing else, at least your nervous energy has burned off, leaving you drained and eager to sleep for another twelve – or twelve thousand – hours. But despite your exhaustion, sleep doesn’t come any easier than the night before. You toss and turn for hours it seems, and when you do sleep, it’s light and fitful. You wake early on Saturday morning, feeling no more relaxed than when you first shut your eyes. +++ After another morning alone in your apartment with no news, you think you’re going to go insane soon. You’ve drafted a dozen emails to Maria Hill, to the head of R&D, even one to Steve, but can’t bring yourself to hit send on any of them. Trying to find the line between professional concern and desperate pleading proves to be very difficult. You’ve just started yet another message to Maria – since she coordinates all Avengers operations (including the one that landed you in this situation) – when your phone rings. It’s such a surprise after the silence of the last two days that you’re frozen for a moment before you scramble for your phone, almost dropping it in a mug of lukewarm tea in your haste. A glance at the screen reveals it’s Maria herself on the line, as if summoned by all your unfinished emails. Knowing her background and capabilities, you wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow has seen them… Brushing away that uncomfortable thought, you take a breath and answer the call, trying your best for a confident and casual, “Hello?” Characteristically brusque, Maria wastes no time getting straight to the point. “Can you come to the compound this afternoon? The research half of R&D has an update for you and I figured we should talk, too.” “Uh—” you start, wondering how to give a firm fuck no while still being agreeable and cooperative. Luckily, Maria picks up on the reason for your hesitance. “Right, that would probably be uncomfortable for you. We’ll come to you. Three o’clock?” she offers. “Three is good?” It’s not like you have anything else going on. “Great. I’m supposed to call Secretary Ross at three and I do not want to. See you then.” And with that, the line goes dead. Maria has very little patience for pleasantries, you’ve learned. +++ At three o’clock sharp there’s a knock at your door. You open it up to find Maria waiting outside with a middle-aged woman carrying a black medical bag. You vaguely remember seeing her face among the half dozen or so you saw during the debrief after the jet. Maria says hello and makes the necessary introductions. “This is Dr. Sakina Singh,” she says, face expressionless. “She’s from R&D. You might remember her from –” “The extremely intrusive round of questions I asked you two days ago,” Dr. Singh interjects with a grimace, looking about as uncomfortable as you feel. This probably isn’t what she imagined she’d be doing when she accepted the offer to work with the Avengers. You laugh politely if a little awkwardly. “I remember. Nice to meet you, officially?” She smiles and you shake hands. “Can we come in?” Maria asks, reminding you they’re still standing in your open doorway while cold February air blows into your apartment. “Right! Sorry!” You bring them through to your kitchen, gesturing for them to sit at the table and making the obligatory offers of tea and coffee. Maria and Dr. Singh take one side of the table and it makes you feel a bit like you’re about to have the worst job interview of your life. The fact that Maria was actually at your last job interview doesn’t help. You start to fidget with your hands, relieved the table hides the worst of your nerves. Dr. Singh starts off the proceedings. “I mostly just wanted to check in and see if you’ve experienced any other symptoms, anything out of the ordinary, and to give you a bit of an update on what we’ve found out about the chemical you and Sergeant Barnes ingested,” she says, looking more at-ease now the small-talk portion of the conversation is over and she can focus on the science of it all. “I feel normal,” you reply quietly. “No symptoms since Thursday night.” She nods. “That’s good, and consistent with what Sergeant Barnes reported.” Even the mention of Bucky’s name is enough to have your face flooding with heat. Your hands clench, fingernails pressing crescents into your palms. She carries on, explaining what she and her team were able to determine about the chemical. It’s nothing ground-breaking or unexpected, not after having experienced its effects first-hand. A super-powered aphrodisiac with no discernable purpose beyond making people horny. Just the sort of thing you’d expect to uncover in some mad scientist’s underground lab. Why try curing cancer when you can make people fuck instead? “It provokes extreme sexual arousal while simultaneously decreasing inhibitions,” Dr. Singh explains. “It appears to be neutralized by the chemicals released during orgasm. More than that we don’t know. And since the only uncontaminated sample of the chemical was destroyed, it may be all we will know. But the good news is we don’t see there being any lingering physical impacts, though I would like to take another blood sample from you to be sure it’s completely out of your system.” You consent to the blood sample and she heads back to the compound after it’s done, leaving you and Maria alone at your kitchen table. She’s been nearly motionless this entire time, watching you and Dr. Singh converse, but offering nothing in the way of commentary or even acknowledgment. If you didn’t know better you’d think she wasn’t paying attention at all.  But you do know better, and you have no doubt she could repeat word-for-word everything that was said since you opened the door half an hour ago. Regardless, the stony-faced reticence is unsettling and gives you no clue as to how your conversation with her is going to go. And it’s this conversation you’re really worried about. After a moment of silence that feels endless, Maria lets out a big, heaving sigh, her shoulders dropping as she relaxes into her seat. “Well, that was awkward.” Oh. That’s how your conversation is going to go. It’s so not what you expected her to say and yet so completely like her that a shocked giggle forces its way out of your mouth. She grins at you across the table, but you feel your own smile fade. “God, Maria, I’m so sor—” “If you’re about to apologize, so help me God,” she says, with a look on her face that dares you to argue with her. “I apologize, sincerely, on behalf of myself and the entire Avengers organization. This shouldn’t have happened. We have a dangerous chemicals procedure for a reason, for fuck’s sake,” she adds, with a stormy expression that has you pitying the poor techs who loaded the jet. “I mean, it’s no one’s fault, really. I’m sure that case wasn’t purposely unlatched.” You don’t want anyone to get in trouble for this. You feel guilty enough already about Bucky. “Probably not,” Maria concedes. “But regardless, we’re not treating this as business as usual. This isn’t SHIELD. It won’t be swept under the rug and dismissed without investigation.” You’ve read a handful of the documents Natasha leaked during the fall of SHIELD. You can only imagine how many lab accidents were concealed; how many weren’t accidents at all. It’s a dark line of thinking with no end in sight so you change the subject, asking a question that’s been on your mind for a while. “I wanted to ask – who knows about what happened? I know you can’t hide it, obviously, but –” you shrug, wondering exactly how many people you’re going to have to avoid eye contact with in the halls, or around town even. Maria nods. “The Security Council has access to all our files and we have to report this as a safety incident, but no names or identifying details are recorded. And we didn’t say two staff members had intercourse on a quinjet,” she adds wryly. “Just that there was a chemical spill and two individuals were affected. The only people who know the details of what happened and to who are me, the Avengers, and Dr. Singh and her staff. And they’ve all been made very clear on what will happen if they breach confidentiality. Believe me, they won’t tell anyone.” You believe her. “Speaking of the Avengers… What’s the mood there? Am I totally fired?” Maria snorts. “Fired? Because of a costly mistake for which the organization takes full responsibility, resulting in you ingesting an unknown chemical compound? No. You’re not fired.” Okay, when she lays it out like that it makes your fears seem ridiculous. Still… “Seriously, Maria. Should I just quit? Or be reassigned? Somewhere I will never have to look at any of the Avengers ever again, maybe?” you ask, with a cringe. “Are you concerned it will be awkward for you, or them?” “Well, both. But obviously, their feelings would come first in this situation. They’re the Avengers. I'm a secretary.” Maria rolls her eyes at that comment but chooses not to address it. “Well I can’t do anything about your feelings, but I can assure you that you won’t be treated any differently because of this.” You gape at her. “Seriously?” How could they not treat you differently? Maria levels you with a look. “Do you really think this is the strangest thing that has ever happened on that team?” she says, with the distinct air of a woman who has seen and heard too much. You’re not convinced. “Stranger than two of them banging on a quinjet under the influence of a crazy sex drug?” You’re pretty sure if this were the Strange and Unusual Olympics, that would earn you at least a silver medal. Maria doesn’t seem to agree. She straightens her back and takes a breath. “Giant octopus monster in the Thames. That time a wizard transformed Steve into his pre-serum body for a week. Wanda, daily.” She looks at you, eyebrows raised. You have to admit she has a point. “But –” “Last month I walked in on Steve and Sam having sex in a conference room. A couple years ago Barton got wasted during a game of truth or dare and told everyone how much he enjoys getting slapped around by women in leather. There are multiple sex tapes of Tony on the internet.” She pauses, making sure she has your full attention. “Dealing with weird shit and knowing way too much about the people you work with? Pretty much the two things that bind the Avengers together. Welcome to the team.” Once again, she manages to make things seem so simple. You want to believe her. You almost do believe her. There’s just one thing… “What about Bucky? Maybe everyone else can brush it off, but this happened with him. He can’t possibly want to work with me anymore.” “Fair enough,” Maria says. “But I actually spoke to Barnes this morning. He made it very clear he did not want this to impact your employment in any way.” She shrugs. “Like I said. If it’s not a problem for you, it’s not a problem for them. They’re professionals. Well, mostly.” You nod. This conversation has been enlightening – in a few ways – and Maria’s given you a lot to think about. Also a lot to very purposely not think about (Clint! And presumably Laura!). Maria leans back in her seat, considering you for a long moment as you try to process what she’s told you and come up with some sort of response. The silence stretches on until finally, she speaks. “I’ve had a lot of weird, bad sex in my life.” You stare at her, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Luckily, she doesn’t wait for a response. “I know what happened to you wasn’t just a shitty hookup and you have every right to feel however feel about it.” She says, for the first time looking less than perfectly at ease. She takes her time with her next words. “But I guess what I’m trying to say is it doesn’t have to count. Sex doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t have to mean anything unless you want it to.” You nod dumbly, not sure what to say. You feel the sudden intense need to be alone for a while so you can sit with all the new thoughts running through your mind. Maria nods back, face settled again into cool composure. “Okay, no more feelings talk. The point is: you’re welcome to come back to work anytime. FRIDAY’s taking on as much as she can, but an AI is only capable of so much. Even that one. Think about it.” +++ You do think about it. You spend the rest of the day thinking about it. You go for a long walk in the crisp winter air, thinking about it. You journal, thinking about it. You Google “I slept with a co-worker, what now?” in various combinations and read several unhelpful articles, thinking about it. After hours of introspection, what you come up with is this: you love your job. You love your life. You’ve always been cautious, careful to a fault. Never a risk-taker. Until a few months ago, you lived in the same town you were born in. Happy enough, but not exactly satisfied. Until you applied for this job. Until you packed up your life, left behind everything you’d ever known to start over someplace new. And you’ve never regretted it. You finally felt like you had a place where you belonged. Over the time you’ve worked with the team, they’ve become friends, not just-workers and you love getting to know the real people behind the glossy media personas the rest of the world is familiar with. You love the sense of pride you feel, knowing the work you do matters, contributes – even in its own small way – to something as unfathomably huge and worthwhile as world peace. You don’t want to give that up. You can’t. The sex thing? Yeah, that sucks. You may not have dreamt of rose petals and scented candles, but you were pretty determined there’d be love and commitment involved. A partner, not just a person. But Maria is right. Sex doesn’t change who you are. Virginity is a goddamn social construct and this doesn’t have to matter unless you want it to. You had sex for the first time with someone you have feelings for, someone you respect. And maybe the circumstances (weird sex drug, floor of airplane) were less than perfect, but you can’t deny the sex itself felt good (amazing). Better than a random guy that couldn’t locate the clitoris with a GPS and flashing neon lights. You feel like you’ve been given permission to let this go. To let it be something that happened, but not something that defines you. Just one moment out of millions. You know it’s not that simple. That one illuminating conversation isn’t enough to silence the part of you that still feels ashamed, embarrassed, and heartbroken, but it's a start. A new perspective and one that has you feeling a hell of a lot better than you did just a few hours ago. There’s just one roadblock in this journey of self-enlightenment to being a mature, grown-ass woman who is handling this like a fucking champ – Bucky. But if what Maria said is true, and you have no reason to think she’d lie to you, then maybe that’s not such a roadblock after all? If everyone, even Bucky, can go on as usual (whatever that is with the Avengers), then you’re basically in the same place you were before all this: hiding your unrequited feelings for a man that doesn’t think about you at all. Just with the added aspect of remembering what his body felt like on top of you, inside you. How his tongue felt in your mouth, and on your… Anyway! You’ve decided. You’re going back to work and it’s going to be totally fine. You’re all going to be adults about this. Having drug-fueled sex on a plane is basically the Avengers equivalent of getting too drunk at the office Christmas party anyway, and many an administrative assistant before you has done that and come out the other side. You call Maria and inform her you’ll be back at the compound on Monday, and you can’t help but think there’s a little note of pride in her crisp acknowledgment.  +++ Sunday passes in a blur of nervous anticipation. By the end of the day, you’re nearly crawling out of your skin, desperate to get the embarrassing part over so you can move on with your life and dreading it at the same time. When you wake up Monday morning there’s a significant part of you that wants to call the whole thing off and stay in your apartment for the rest of your life. You remind yourself you did nothing wrong, that you have every right to your job and your life, but apprehension only grows as you get ready for work and begin the drive to the compound. As the heavy metal gates slide shut behind your car you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling you’ve made a terrible mistake. But after a brief almost-breakdown in the parking garage, you manage to pull yourself together and get out of the car. You make your way to your office in the Avengers’ private wing without running into anyone other than security and custodial staff. It is eight in the morning after all, and it’s not like the Avengers usually congregate outside your office like a welcoming committee, so you’re not sure why you felt like you’d be seeing them all at once. They might not even all be in the building – you’ll have to get Maria to update you on any new missions that have been assigned while you were off. You pass an hour or two catching up on emails and reaching out to a few different contacts around the compound, but no one on the team. The first person you see who knows why you really were off is Sam, making a smoothie in the kitchen when you come in for your morning tea. You steel yourself for the ensuing awkwardness, but it doesn’t come. Sam doesn’t behave any differently than he normally would, acknowledging you with a friendly smile tossed over his shoulder as he prepares ingredients. “Morning,” he greets, handing you a mug from the cupboard over his head as you fill up the electric kettle. “Thanks.” Sam nods, immediately launching into a story about his weekend that has you almost in tears from laughing so hard. “I don’t know why you’re laughing,” he scolds playfully. “I was stuck in that tree for like ten minutes while Tony took pictures, even though it's his fault I ended up there since he designed the damn wings. Anyway, how was your weekend?” he asks with an expression of exaggerated innocence. If it was anyone else it might feel rude or intrusive or even mean. But Sam, all easy charm and genuine warmth, has a way of making people take themselves less seriously, and you find you’re smiling despite yourself as his smirk splits into a cheeky grin. You manage to hold eye contact for a couple of seconds before you’re both laughing uncontrollably, the utter absurdity of the situation suddenly hitting you as actually kind of funny instead of completely tragic. “Yeah, it was alright. Just hung around the house, really,” you tease, catching your breath, and the conversation seamlessly turns to what you’ve both been watching on Netflix. You’re still smiling when you sit back down at your desk. You know there are bound to be awkward moments ahead, but the relief of knowing things can be normal, that the awkwardness will pass, has a tension leaving your body you’d been holding onto for days. Over the next couple days as you go about your normal tasks and routines you run into members of the team in ones and twos. Some are more uncomfortable than others – you and Bruce share a particularly stilted exchange until Tony barges into the room – but after the initial acknowledgment, almost everyone carries on like it never happened. Almost everyone, because by the middle of the week there’s still one person you haven’t seen or heard from. Bucky. You aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed. Sure, you’re not exactly eager for that first – almost certainly uneasy – interaction. But at the same time, all you want is to move on and put this behind you and you don’t think you can do that until you’ve seen him. Until you’ve assured yourself he really is okay, and okay working together. The longer you go without seeing him, the more you begin to wonder if he’s really as fine with you being back as Maria said he was. If he truly wasn’t bothered, wouldn’t you have run into him before now? It’s not like Bucky was a social butterfly before, especially not with you, but you work with him in the building where he lives – it’s rare to go this long without at least seeing him in passing, outside of times he’s on a mission. And he isn’t on a mission – you checked. The sense of acceptance you’ve built around what happened on the jet is fragile, and relies almost entirely on knowing Bucky is alright, that he doesn’t blame you, or hate you, or feel disgusted by you. If none of that is true, you can’t move on. At least, not while continuing to work with the team. It wouldn’t be right. Each day, that acceptance weakens as it becomes clear Bucky is intentionally avoiding you. He must be. The agonizing waiting game finally ends on Thursday in a conference room. You’re tidying up after a meeting, gathering pens and water glasses, when Bucky turns the corner into the room, eyes glued to the tablet he holds in front of his face. At least, until he notices the room isn’t empty and his eyes snap to you. You’ve been imagining this moment for days now – seeing Bucky again for the first time. You’ve crafted and perfected so many scenarios of how it might play out – maybe you’ll be cool and aloof, brush it off like it’s no big deal, like you haven’t thought about it at all. Or maybe you’ll crack a joke like Sam would, and Bucky will laugh and tease you back and the tension will be broken and everything will be fine. In the moment, when it actually happens, all you can do is stare. Bucky looks – not well, really, and it squeezes something in your chest to see him this way. You’ve been around him before when he’s having a downswing and it’s not as bad as that, but there are dark circles under his eyes that speak to sleepless nights, and a stiffness in the way he holds himself, as though every muscle is tensed. It makes you want to hold him. To wrap him in your arms until that tension bleeds out of his body. But that’s the last thing Bucky would want, considering you’re likely the source of the tension. Your eyes find his and he holds your gaze for a moment – just a moment. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression, but he clearly doesn’t like it because his brows furrow as he turns on his heel and leaves the room. And just like that, you’re back on the quinjet, naked and trembling on the cold floor as Bucky bolts from the room without looking back. The rejection is clear, unmistakable. You’re fully clothed but you may as well be stark naked for how vulnerable you feel in that moment. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes and spill over as you stand there staring at the open door like an idiot. You roughly swipe a hand over your face to brush them away and make a hasty retreat to your office. The day passes in a fog as you try not to break down at your desk. The dam breaks the minute you step through your apartment door as the tears you’ve been holding back for hours come flooding out. You fall to your knees and you know you’re overreacting. You tell yourself it’s probably a misunderstanding. Bucky realized he’d forgotten something. Or maybe he was just surprised to see you, wasn’t ready to talk to you yet and had to leave, but not because he hates you. Your mind clings to the idea, latches onto it like a lifeline, even as your body continues to drown – sadness like physical pain in your chest, throat sore from deep, heaving sobs. You calm down eventually, mind winning out over body at last, but the crying has you feeling a little hollowed out. You fill the space with food and mindless media consumption, telling yourself you’ll feel better after a night of sleep. +++ You do feel better in the morning, thank God. You’ve successfully convinced yourself what happened yesterday had to be a misunderstanding. Maria wouldn’t lie to you about what Bucky said, and honestly, it’s self-centred to think just the sight of you is enough to scare the Winter Soldier out of a room! You head into the office feeling a little uneasy still, but mostly okay. That feeling lasts until lunchtime. You’re taking your lunch break in the common room, eating a sandwich and watching an episode of House Hunters with Natasha. She’s in the middle of a sentence, noting the lack of defensible positions and the overabundance of wood panelling in the mid-century bungalow on-screen when Steve and Bucky enter the room. They’ve clearly just come from the gym, likely looking for a post-workout snack. They amble into the room, playfully shoving at each other as they head for the kitchen. You can hear Alpine trotting in behind them, meowing for the treats she knows she’ll get if Bucky’s in the kitchen. Bucky’s hair is tied up in a messy, damp bun and his t-shirt clings to his torso with sweat, toned muscles on display. Steve’s there too. You see the moment Bucky realizes you’re there partly because you can’t look away from him – the shadows under his eyes are still dark, but his face is flushed and lively from the workout – and also because his step very noticeably falters and the teasing expression is wiped from his face, the colour quickly draining from his cheeks. If yesterday could be brushed off as a misunderstanding, this confirms you were right to fear the worst. Bucky was avoiding you, doesn’t want to be around you. He mumbles something back to Steve you aren’t able to discern and turns back the way he came. Instantly you feel your face heat with shame. Now Bucky can’t stand to even be in a room with you and other people? Exactly how uncomfortable do you make him? Does he think you’ll leap up from the couch and throw yourself at him? You catch Steve and Nat sharing a look out of the corner of your eye, but you have no idea what it means. You feel thoroughly wrong-footed, as though everyone in the room knows something you don’t. Something you probably don’t want to know. They make an effort to gloss over Bucky’s hasty exit, Natasha more successfully than Steve, but you just want to get back to the privacy of your office as quickly as possible so you can ruminate in peace. Or, if not in peace, at least in solitude. Choking down the rest of your lunch in record time, you make your escape – by a different route than Bucky, lest you accidentally cross paths again and he’s forced to jump out a window to escape you. TGIF, you think. +++ That weekend is rough. You journal, you pace, and you think and cry and eat and Google. Finally, you end up spilling your guts to an EAP counsellor (under the guise of a drunken hook-up between co-workers) and you come to the conclusion: fuck James Buchanan Barnes. Yeah, he’s smart and kind and strong and beautiful and maybe you’re a little in love with him, but he is just a man and you have cried over him enough. You didn’t ask for this! You didn’t mean for it to happen! And it’s not like you forced him to have sex with you. It’s not like he was cowering in the corner while you were throwing yourself at him. If anything, you were equally taken advantage of by each other – by that stupid fucking chemical and whatever mad scientist created it! He was the one who said he didn’t want your employment affected by what happened! As though running screaming from the room whenever he sees you doesn’t affect your employment. The least he could do is try to be a little more subtle in his distaste. Whether he finds you unattractive or not he should be able to treat you like a human being – not some sort of leper. And if he can’t do that, he can say it to your face! You don’t deserve this, no matter how Bucky feels about what happened. Which is exactly what you’re going to tell him when you see him on Monday. And you will see him. Bucky Barnes might be an internationally feared former assassin who evaded detection for over seventy years, but you manage his calendar. He’s got a meeting in the morning with PR and you’ll be waiting outside to catch him as soon as they’re done. On God, by noon on Monday, this will be resolved once and for all. +++ Ten a.m. sharp you’re standing outside the PR office suite, reminding yourself why your anger is justified and trying to hold onto the feeling itself. You’re more than a little afraid that the minute you see Bucky you’re going to forget all about confronting him and just start crying. But you didn’t spend hours curating a fuck you, girl power playlist and practicing speeches in the mirror to admit defeat so quickly. You’re standing directly opposite the glass doors, no opportunity for hiding – or for Bucky to hide from you – so you see each other the minute he approaches the door. There’s a flash of surprise on his face, quickly turned to grim resignation as he opens the door. He obviously knows you’re there to see him and he stops outside in front of you. “Hi,” he says, avoiding your eyes and staring at his feet instead. “Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?” He nods, gesturing down the hall and you follow him a few feet to a small seating area, out of view of any offices. He stands back and finally makes eye contact, looking a little like he’s staring down a firing squad instead of an unarmed civilian in a fuzzy pink cardigan. You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts and remembering the plan. You ask him the big question. “Do you want me to quit?” Bucky shakes his head almost frantically. “No, I – no,” he says. You stare at him, wait for him to continue speaking but he just stands there, hands in his pockets looking miserable. ‘No.’ That’s all he can say? No? No! Something inside you snaps, your carefully prepared speech dissolving in your mouth like sugar as words start to pour out of you. “Really? Because Maria told me you didn’t want me to be reassigned so I thought we were good. But then you avoided me for days and the two times we did see each other you looked like you were going to be sick and practically ran out of the room, which makes me think you’re definitely not okay with me being here.” “I—” “And like, okay, that’s fine, but I wish you would have just said that? Because I get it, I do. This is super weird and obviously, you didn't want to sleep with me and I know I'm not like, a supermodel or even a JC Penny catalogue model, so yeah, you wish it could have been literally anyone else but you don't have to run away from me like I have some sort of flesh-eating disease, okay?” “That’s—” “Because that really sucks, Bucky. And not just because I’ve had a crush on you forever or because it was my first time but because I actually really just like and respect you as a person and I know you didn’t like me even before all this so maybe you don’t believe me, but I didn’t mean for this to happen. I promise. I would never try to take advantage of you – of anyone – like that and –” “What?” he interjects sharply. It cracks through the air like a whip, finally snapping you out of whatever insanity possessed you to say all that. To say all that. Oh, fuck. “What do you mean crush? Wait, first time?” Bucky’s eyes are wide and he’s staring intently at your face. Your own face burns and your hands shake as you try to come up with something – anything – to say. Thirty seconds ago you couldn’t shut up! The silence stretches unbearably long as Bucky stands there looking at you, waiting for you to answer him. It looks like he’s about to speak again when an alert sounds from both of your phones. “Oh, thank God,” you breathe. It’s the unmistakable tone that signals a drop-what-you’re-doing-and-Avengers-fucking-assemble emergency. You’ve never heard a sweeter sound in your life. Bucky holds your gaze for another moment before he swears and jogs off down the hallway, tossing you a conflicted look over his shoulder as he goes. +++ The emergency turns out to be a false alarm; some new system Tony was working on triggered it accidentally, so you got away from Bucky and nobody died. All in all, a pretty successful day. Except for the part where you confessed your feelings to the man you’ve been crushing on for months and told him he was the first person you’ve ever had sex with. During what was supposed to be a mature, adult conversation where you asserted yourself calmly and professionally instead of projectile word-vomiting like the girl from The Exorcist swallowed a dictionary and spat it back up. If there was ever a chance you and Bucky could move past what happened on the quinjet and co-exist in mutual agreement to never mention it again, it’s gone now. There’s no dramatic breakdown this time, no floods of tears or self-loathing or panic. The last week and a half has been an exhausting roller coaster of emotions and honestly, you just can’t anymore. It is what it is. It happened and there’s no going back. You can’t summon up the energy to freak out. Tomorrow you’ll go to Maria’s office and request a transfer. Maybe the UN has an opening for a secretary in Antarctica. But tonight you will wear flannel pyjamas, eat greasy pizza, and watch the Great British Bake Off, where everything is lovely and nothing hurts. Just as you’ve finished turning your couch into a cozy oasis, laying out your softest blankets and fluffiest pillows, there’s a knock at your door. Right on time. You grab your wallet and open the door, a polite smile on your face for your usual delivery man. But that’s not who’s standing on your porch. It’s Bucky. Pizza box balanced in one hand, the other fussing with his hair. “Hey,” he says, voice soft and almost hesitant. You step back, silently letting him inside and shutting the door behind him. “I didn’t realize you delivered for Ronzoni’s now,” you say, cringing immediately after. Bucky looks at the box in his hand like he forgot he was holding it. “Oh, uh, yeah, I got here the same time as the delivery guy.” “I see that.” He hands you the box and you lay it on the floor behind you. “Thanks,” you tell him awkwardly, eyes fixed on the floor in front of you. “Look, Bucky, I’m really sor—” “I do like you,” he blurts and your eyes flash to his, wide in shock. “What?” Bucky shifts on his feet, stands a little straighter and nods, more to himself than to you it seems. Like he’s steeling himself to face something difficult. “I do like you. I’ve always liked you. Just took me a while to figure it out. It’s been a minute. Haven’t had a crush in about seventy years; I’m rusty,” he says with a sheepish smile, ducking his head and looking at you through his lashes. His smile fades. “And you’re always so nervous around me. I thought maybe you were scared of me. Or hated me, maybe, for everything I did when –” “Oh, Bucky, no,” you can’t help but interrupt, can’t let him finish that sentence. You haven’t really processed anything else he’s said, but you can’t bear the idea of him thinking you blamed him for being abused and controlled for decades. “Yeah, I was a fucking idiot,” he says with a humourless laugh. “I know you’d never – but I didn’t then.” His face softens as he looks at you. “And even though it was ‘cause you were scared of me, I still thought you were so cute when you’d start running at the mouth. Stumbling over your words and getting all embarrassed,” he says, with a fond little smile. You groan, hiding your face behind your hands, thinking of all the times you’ve looking like an idiot in front of him. Bucky chuckles warmly and tugs your hands down but doesn’t let them go, holding them in a loose grip. You can’t believe this is happening. He likes you. He likes you and has liked you for months. He likes you and he’s holding your hands and staring at you with an affection you couldn’t have captured in your wildest fantasies. Bucky’s smile turns a little wistful. “I was so jealous of everyone else. How easy you were with them. I wanted you to be like that with me, all happy and cheeky and –” he cuts himself off. “Then that fucking drug. If there was any doubt about how I felt about you that definitely made it clear. That was something else, doll.” His grip on your hands tightens before he lets them go. “You’re so – that shit you said about not being a model or whatever? I couldn’t care less. You’re perfect,” he says, voice intense. He shakes his head a little, like he’d gotten off track. “And then it hit me. This goddamn revelation for me was probably the worst moment of your life, and I fucking liked it. I felt like a creep, like a fucking monster. And that’s why I avoided you. I thought I was doing you a favour, staying away. It wasn’t ‘cause I hate you or I blame you or anything. Pretty much the opposite.” You laugh softly in disbelief, shaking your head at how wrong you were. How wrong you both were, all this time. “I thought maybe it reminded you of Hydra,” you tell him. “You know, losing control, being forced to do something you didn’t want to – not that I think what we did is the same as being forced to kill people, obviously. I just mean, the principle of it –” Bucky kindly cuts you off. “I know what you mean. But trust me,” he says. “That’s not how I feel. At all. I mean, yeah, that’s not really how I wanted things to go. I hate that that was your first time. I hate that it was my first time I can clearly remember. But I’m glad it was you. What Hydra did to me and what happened to us, what we did together – doesn’t even compare. I don’t regret it.” And finally, with those words, spoken with such undeniable sincerity, you feel the last piece of the puzzle fit into place. Even with everything he’s already said it still felt too good to be true. Like it could be a confession and a rejection at the same time. An acknowledgement that if you’d figured it out sooner you could have been together, but you got the pieces so mixed up that there’s no sorting them out. Better to throw them away and pick a new puzzle. “I don’t regret it either,” you tell him. “I wish it had happened differently, but I’m really, really happy it was you, Bucky.” He looks at you, soft and sweet and a little sad and you can’t help but throw yourself at him, finally giving in to an urge you’ve felt a hundred times, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hugs you back, holding you just as tightly as you hold him. You feel warm and bright and happy, bubbling over with joy that spills out of you with a giggle as you pull back just enough to look him in the face with a dopey grin. “So… you like me?” He laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, doll, you been listening?” “I can’t believe you’ve had a crush on me for months. You never speak to me!” Bucky snorts. “Hey, we don’t all let our anxiety spill out our mouths like you.” You glare at him but he does have a point. “That’s fair,” you acknowledge, stepping out of the warm circle of his arms to give him a long look, crossing your arms. “So for months I thought you didn’t like me, and you thought I didn’t like you. And the whole time we were super into each other?” Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets, rocks on his heels, nodding. “Yep.” “Sounds like we’re pretty dumb, huh?” “Sounds like we’re perfect for each other,” he says, leaning in close with a grin. You get a sudden glimpse of the charmer Bucky must have been back in the day and it takes everything you have not to kiss him. “You wanna stay for a while?” you ask. You don’t want him to go yet, but you don’t want to keep standing up in front of your door either. “I’m watching Great British Bake Off. And you did pay for the pizza so it’s technically yours.” “You askin’ me on a date?” You think he means it to come out as flirty and confident, but he says it with a shy, boyish expression that’s somehow so much more attractive. You nod, smiling. “Yeah, I guess so. I wish I wasn’t wearing pyjamas, but…” “Hey, pizza and GBBO? I wish I was wearing pyjamas,” he counters, picking up the pizza and letting you lead the way to the living room where he sets the box down on the coffee table. You sit with Bucky on your couch, sharing a blanket and stuffing your faces as you talk about your favourite Bake Off contestants and it feels right. Feels like the start of something really, really good. And to think, you have an evil, horny scientist to thank for all your current happiness. Welcome to the Avengers. A/N: If you have made it to the end - thank you for reading! This is definitely the piece I struggled with most and I am very open to feedback! This part is so long and so sexless lol so I’m very interested to see how it reads re: pacing, interest, cohesiveness, etc. Feel free to like/comment/reblog and let me know! My ask box is also open to anons if you have feedback but you’re feeling shy! I definitely wanna hone the skill of series-writing as I have a loooooot of longer ideas. Part 3, which will be shorter (I think!) and definitely sexier, will be out in a few days 😚 

[thewickeddevil]

A Study In Jean Moreau

(tw: mentions of Jean's past, violence, mental health and suicidal thoughts/intention to die. let me know if there's something else)

ok, so, i say all the time that Jean Moreau is my favorite and comfort character in All For The Game (i know. it literally hurts but also brings me joy sometimes) and i would literally kill for that man. so, that said, i think too much about him and, consequently, i have too many hcs about him. on request, i will now do what i'm gonna call A Study In Jean Moreau

(my beta reader and best friend helped me a lot with this. thanks @jostenrun)

i'll start with this quote from one of my kerejean fics (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26146540)

During Jean's first four months at USC and playing with the Trojans, he would always ignore Jeremy and put a frown on his face whenever he was in the same place as him. It obviously wasn't the best of strategies to put distance between himself and all the Jeremy glow, but it looked exactly bad enough to work.

Still, Jeremy was all pompous and charming looks at him, always smiling and being polite even though he received much less in return. It pissed the shit out of Jean.

He was used by the Ravens for many years, treated exactly like the exchange item he had been, just possession and obliged to follow lines and lines of rules too strict even for how he should breathe.

Riko was violent, the Ravens were cruel, the Moriyama family was wrong and he needed to repeat this to himself on a daily basis to be able to just keep going.

Back at the beginning of those days, many times he would fight back until he was taught that it was only worse. Many times he would beg until he realized that it encouraged Riko more than it prevented him. Many times he would cry until he was taught that it was wrong.

He would often bleed.

He would often wish to bleed until there was nothing left in his veins, no thoughts in his brain, no air in his lungs, no words on the tip of his tongue—

And he would often try to do just that on his own.

That was his daily life for a long time. Evermore was what he knew, the Moriyama family was who he belonged to and all of that was for what he served. That was it.

How was he supposed to know back then that suddenly overly nice twenty-eight other people would replace all of that with magnificence?

How was he supposed to know that they wouldn't look at him with disgust whenever he accidentally let a curse in French slip away?

How was he supposed to know that the Trojans had complete freedom within the team, instead of having to walk in pairs like the Ravens?

How was he supposed to know that Jeremy wasn't going to hit him whenever he made a mistake?

Or how would he know that Jeremy never considered anything that he made a mistake?

It was all a very big break from reality and so, so suddenly. Jean felt confused at first. Lost, wrong, out of place, stupid and scared.

And Jeremy was always determined to be the best he could be. Jeremy was safe.

Until Jean felt comfortable, confident, fine, and satisfied. He was someone instead of something and he really felt like that.

i think Jean would take years to relearn how to live instead of surviving. sometimes he would fail at that, but so many failures can only lead to success eventually.

he really didn't want to keep playing exy after everything, he doesn't think exy is good at all and trauma made him hate it, but he needs it because of the deal with Ichirou. fortunately, the Trojans are a team big enough to put him in the background for a while, to give him a little rest. but he knows he can't relax too much

he starts therapy. he needs it badly and it takes time for him to really be able to do it, but Jean was never anything but strong, and when he sees the chance to finally heal he knows that, despite how tired he is, despite how many times he wonders if it's worth it to keep going, he needs to grab that and at least try. just one more time. he never wanted to work for anything in his life because nothing was important before, but now he thinks that maybe things are changing

the Trojans get a dorm exclusively for him at first, because they don't want Jean to force himself to share space with someone he doesn't know and still doesn't trust. they want Jean to have his own space and feel safe before anything. he needs that solitude and he knows that it doesn't mean loneliness because his team will always be just a call away from him

he relapses sometimes. days without taking basic care of himself and without getting up from bed, and he no longer remembers whether he’s alive or not. sometimes he's able to call his therapist when that happens, but sometimes he isn't

this is how he gets into the habit of learning poetry. and eventually, writing poetry. he needs a coping mechanism and words seem to be safe enough to float around in his mind and make space in his core

(French poetry that Kevin always dissects for him and tells about the history behind the period in which those texts were written, or about the authors of each text)

the process is slow but it’s progress nonetheless

so, we know about therapy, about not being easy, about difficulties and things happening slowly during the healing process, now let's talk about the little details when things finally start to work out positively. when the best part of Jean's life finally begins

he finds out that his eyesight isn't bad only because of the beatings he took in the nest, and finds it ridiculous when Jeremy offers to help him buy glasses because, according to him, all the glasses Jean likes make him look like a middle-aged man that curses people for fun. Jean doesn't hate it though

Jean learns how to swim and likes it more than he thought he would. he likes the fluidity and movements of the liquid around his skin, how he cuts the water with his body when moving around and how it doesn't hurt him, and he just feels light

Jean likes nutella and chocolate with nuts, because Jeremy used to give it to him after nightmares or difficult days, and it became a comfort food for him (something he wasn’t even allowed to eat in the nest)

Jean's musical taste is a big mess of R&B, soul, pop art, folk, dark pop... he likes artists like Lorde, Aurora, Marina, Sigrid, Sleeping at last and the list goes on

Before he left France, Jean's family had a farm and he was responsible for harvesting fruits and vegetables there. this is one of the last memories he has about France, so he likes to harvest fruits and vegetables whenever he has the chance in the US

Jean loves to read fantasy books. he is a hufflepuff and part of cabin 6 in camp half-blood (children of Athena)

he likes geography. pedology, topography and weather are his favorites. he likes to look at the sky and know how to name climatic phenomena regardless of where in the world he is

(he also likes history and sociology, but only because he can hear Kevin and Jeremy — respectively — talking for hours and hours about those two subjects)

he hates biology

he absolutely hates croissants, tea and coffee. in the morning he always drinks juice or chocolate milk (the latter is Jeremy's fault)

the first time he willingly got wasted on alcohol, he, Sarah and Laila woke Jeremy up in the wee hours of the night while singing in Spanish (Jean barely knows Spanish). he passed out after that and woke up the next day in his room. his first thought was that he was fine even though he lost control of himself around other people, and he cried because of that. Jeremy was concerned because he thought he was crying from a headache or something related to a hangover

Jean can never find shoes his size in conventional stores because he's very big (fucking tall, muscular but not too much, with large shoulders and hips, and eventually a tummy) and, consequently, his feet are also big. he needs to have it personalized and he completely hates it

he loves dogs but is easily scared by them. he couldn't get out of the dorms for almost an entire day after Jeremy's mom's dog barked too loud and it scared Jean. he felt guilty and didn't want people to be mad at him for being so scared of a simple dog

he loves cats though, and after some time into therapy, he adopted a service cat. Kevin and Jeremy always joke about it looking like a replica of Jean himself

Jean doesn't understand the purpose of MMA competitions, because he doesn't like violence and thinks martial arts should be only for self-defense, so he doesn't really understand why people choose to compete over something so aggressive

he also doesn't like the violence in exy, but he forgives because, at least, violence is not the main goal of the sport, but to score points

he learns to draw and starts to open art commissions on the internet. this is his first job and he's proud of it because it was something he achieved by himself

Jean and Jeremy fell in love on the beach

Kevin and Jean take time to forgive each other, especially Jean. the broken heart Kevin left in Jean hurt more than being abandoned by his parents. he suffered from it for years but he didn't really want to blame Kevin. he also knew Riko, after all. he knew how capable of driving someone insane Riko was. it didn't make things easier or less painful though. Kevin and Jean took time, but they never loved each other less

Kevin and Jean fell in love for the second time (the time they could, the time they were allowed) after one of the matches in which their teams were rivals

Jean is very picky for food consistency, and he hates ketchup and mayonnaise for that. he insists all the time that if people knew how to season the food well, they wouldn't need those condiments

(he secretly loves Dijon Mustard though)

Jean was born on 08/31. he’s a virgo

plushies are the first resource that Jean uses when he feels alone but is unable to be around anyone at the moment, so he unconsciously starts making a collection of them. they're all small, except for two that Kevin and Jeremy gave him and are, respectively, a fox and a red and gold trojan. he eventually distributes his plushies to children in local orphanages but keeps those two to himself out of sheer emotional attachment

he doesn't stop suffering because of his trauma throughout his life, but he learns to deal with it. that's the point of everything. he never thinks he will magically forget or get over it, but now he is in a different place in his life and he can start working his way to be the best version of himself he can. he doesn't fool himself into thinking it will be easy and fast, he never thought it would be less difficult than it really was, but he takes things slowly and carefully and hopes it works

his entire healing process is too complex and extensive to explain everything here, but i did the best i could and now i really need to stop because i could stay here ranting for days. xx

[kat-tamin]

Kat Tamin NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: Language, Smut 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s good with a bit of cuddling afterwards, but only for a bit. After a while, her brain just goes, “Okay, what’s next?”. She’ll talk about what just happened, what you liked or didn’t like, if you enjoyed yourself. She’ll offer you a drink or a snack or a shower if you’re at her apartment. She doesn’t mind if you stay the night, even when you’re just a one night stand. She’ll make you breakfast in the morning then send you home. If she’s at yours, and she’s not staying the night, she’ll give you like twenty minutes of cuddling before calling an Uber to go home. 

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Man or woman, Kat loves an ass. She loves when you wear tight pants or underwear that showcases what you’re working with. She loves grabbing it, biting it, slapping it. She loves holding onto it when you’re fucking her, leaving fingerprints and nail marks on you.

You love her neck. She has a sensitive spot right under her ear that if you suck on, she’s instantly wet beyond belief. You love to mark it as your own, with lipstick, with your teeth. You love seeing them the next morning, a reminder of your love.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Kat loves cum, especially in her mouth; that special nectar that is you. She loves to go down on you, and when you cum, she makes sure a drop isn’t spilled. She’ll swallow everything you have, then kiss you, make you taste yourself on her tongue. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She feels like a bad feminist, but sometimes she just wants to be absolutely railed by a guy. She wants that total lack of control. She wants to be used as a fuck toy, with no concern about her pleasure. She wants to be fucked over and over until she can barely keep her eyes open, covered in cum.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She definitely knows what she’s doing. She may not have a lot of experience with long term relationships, but she’s had quite a few casual relationships. She’s more experienced with women, but she’s had a few male friends-with-benefits situations.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

She loves 69ing, because it brings out her competitive side. She loves it when she’s going down on you, and you have to keep stopping what you’re doing to moan or gasp. She’s determined to make you cum first, and you usually do, with a big groan into her pussy, which usually sends her over the edge.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s more serious in the beginning, not wanting to make a wrong move or say something stupid. Once you’re comfortable, that’s when she gets more silly. She’ll laugh at the noises or the little oops that happen naturally during sex. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kat can be very romantic if that’s what you want. She can go slow, making sure to touch every inch of you, take her time to worship you. She’ll say how beautiful you are, how much she loves you; kiss you soft and sweet while you’re fucking.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

After a long, stressful day, she just wants to relax, turn her brain off. Sure, you making her cum would be nice, but sometimes she just wants to use her vibrator and go to sleep, without having to worry about anyone else.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She has a pegging kink. It’s not something she’s explored much, she hasn’t found a guy willing to do it, but she thinks about it a lot. Sometimes, a guy will give her the go ahead to use a finger or two, and she gets so excited. Something about the taboo of it, the total submission of a guy under her, makes her so fucking wet.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Her favourite place is at home, in her own bed. She doesn’t have to worry about roommates, or what your bathroom is like. She likes the familiar surroundings so she can focus totally on you, not whether you’ll be mad when she leaves.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you’ve just met, a good back and forth conversation gets her interested in you. She’s attracted to people with good vibes and a good sense of humour. If all those things are combined, she’ll go home with you.

She loves a strip tease from you, the slow reveal of skin, bonus points if you’re not wearing any underwear. The confident smile of you waiting for her to come home from work, already wearing sexy lingerie is an instant turn on. She loves someone who knows what they want, especially sex. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Since working at SVU, non-con or dub-con is an absolute no. Even if you ask her to take you against your will in a kink scene, she won’t. If a “no” slips out of your mouth, even if you’re just playing, it’s an instant stop. If either of you has had a few drinks, or smoked a bit of weed, she’s reluctant to fuck you. She’d rather just make out for a while, just in case you’re not as in control as you think.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Her head game is immaculate. Guys, girls, it doesn’t matter, her tongue knows exactly what to do and where to go. It may be sloppy sometimes, but it feels so fucking good. As mentioned, she loves drinking cum, draining you dry. After a few rounds, it’s her turn: usually with her riding your face, hands in your hair.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She doesn’t have a preference, likes to decide in the moment. She seems to know exactly what you need/want, and on the rare occasion she gets it wrong, she’s quick to adjust.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She’s game for quickies, even if you don’t get to do it often, but she’d rather take her time with you, so you can each cum a few times. Sometimes when you’re out in public, she’ll give you a Look, and you know you have to find a private bathroom stall, and quick. She’ll use one hand to pleasure you, the other pressed to your mouth to stifle your groans, a whisper in your ear to be quiet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She’s still young, so she may not know what she likes, so she’s all for experimentation in kinks. She wants to explore what makes you feel good, too.

If she’s sleeping with a guy, risk is a no-go. She has an IUD but still makes you wear  a condom. She always asks if you’re clean before fucking you the first time. She has no time for STDs or God forbid, a pregnancy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If she’s with a woman, she can go for hours, especially if she doesn’t have to work the next day. Most of that time is spent on you, making you cum over and over until you have to push her away because you can’t take anymore. If you’re too exhausted by then, she’ll use your body to get off: your thigh makes an excellent substitute.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She has a vibrator and a couple straps. The vibrator is more for herself than you, but if you have your own, she’ll use it. Her straps are high-quality, in a variety of sizes, and she loves to use them. She loves fucking you with them, making you deep-throat her cock. As mentioned, she wants to peg, so she has a few plugs just in case the situation arrives. 

She’s cool with you using straps on her, too. She loves riding a cock, and you love the look on her face when it hits her just right, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She’s a Service Top, first and foremost. Your pleasure is her pleasure, so she doesn’t like to tease. She’d rather make you cum over and over until you’re so sensitive, you can’t be touched.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She’s more on the quiet side, she’d rather it be you making the noise. She’ll praise you, tell you how pretty you look with her fingers in you, how good you taste. She lets out quiet gasps and curses while you fuck her. If you’re fucking her hard enough, she’ll start speaking in Arabic. You have no idea what she says but it just spurns you on even further. When she cums, it’s usually with a quiet groan of your name.

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

She has a bit of an exhibition kink, even though she knows she’s the last person who should be doing it. Locked bathroom stalls, private offices, the gym locker room, the darkness of a cab’s backseat, are all fair game. Her favourite thing to do is to get a hotel room with a big window or balcony and fuck you, hoping passerby's can see and hear you when you cum.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We know she’s got a boxer's body, all plains and hard edges. Her whole body is pure toned muscles, with a glorious set of abs you love to lick. She likes to keep herself tidy and trimmed, but not bare. Waxing is very low on her priority list, and if you can’t deal with a bit of hair, she knows you’re not the one.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Probably a couple times a week, depending on if you both have the time, and if you’ve had a long day or not. Weekends and days off are when you make up for what you missed during the week, with a couple rounds in the morning and at night. If Kat wants to do it, but you don’t, she’s happy to take care of it herself, and you do her the same courtesy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You always fall asleep first, no matter how much or how little sex you’ve had. You usually fall asleep in her arms, but once you’re out, she moves so she can sleep comfortably, with a bit of space between you.

[firefly464]

Hey look at that I wrote a Bear SMP oneshot :D

Basically I was bored the other day so i asked the discord for writing prompts and the prompt I got was:

“Jonah visiting R for the first time, to welcome them, and to also inform them of the walls. R questions the safety and friendly nature of the smp, but jonah defends it”

~~~

Jonah took a deep breath, staring up at the dark, imposing castle that sat above his house. His task was simple. Go inside, talk to the new person, and inform them of the rules that Bear had set in place for the smp, as well as the new towers that had sprouted from the ground. 

It was supposed to be easy, something that he could have done in his sleep. Hell, Jonah was about 99% sure that Bear had already told her all of the rules and expectations, so it really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. All he needed to do was reiterate what she already knew, and perhaps introduce himself in the process. 

He just needed to make sure that this new person was actually safe. After all, that was his job, wasn’t it? Keeping everyone else safe. He had sworn to it when he had decided to become a knight. 

What he couldn't understand was why this was so damn difficult. He had done this several times before, and he’d never had trouble with new people. Hell, he rather enjoyed learning about others and hearing stories of their adventures. 

So why was this time so much harder?

It’s because you’re scared, a small voice in the back of his mind muttered gleefully. You don’t know if this person is dangerous or not, and you’re scared that you’re not going to be able to protect everyone, just like what happened with Bill and Neptune. 

“That’s not true,” he said aloud, trying to silent the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone. “I can protect everyone just fine. I’m just… worried, that’s all. I can do this.”

Jonah closed his eyes briefly, taking a final deep breath, before stepping towards the castle. 

Each step forward felt like a step towards his demise, his boots growing heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Perhaps it was just his anxiety and fears getting the better of him, but he could have sworn that the air got colder and colder with each step, biting into his skin naturally.

Jonah shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts away. He was on a mission. Make sure that the new person didn’t try to do anything stupid, and make sure that Bear wasn’t making a mistake by letting them stay. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. 

The dark, wooden door towered above him, almost taunting him in a way, calling him weak, pathetic. A large, golden knocker rested in the middle.

With a trembling hand, Jonah raised the knocker, and let it fall. 

Three thundurus crashes echoed across the valley as he repeated the action, letting the knocker fall twice more. The only response he got was a deafening silence. Nothing moved, the entire world holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen to the foolish mortal who dared to intrude on the newcomers' peace and quiet. 

A minute passed. Then two, then three. Jonah let out a small sigh of simultaneous relief and despair. On one hand, this meant that he didn’t have to actually talk with the new person, but on the other, he was supposed to be checking on them, to make sure that no one would get hurt because of them. 

He was about to turn around, to determine that his journey had been a waste, when the silence was broken by the hissing of gears and pistons all firing at once. It was a subtle sound, one that easily blended into the background sounds of wind and nature, but it stuck out to Jonah like a sore thumb. 

The hissing was quickly followed by the sound of wood creaking and groaning, along with the squeaks of hinges that weren’t quite strong enough to support the weight they were given. It was enough to send a shiver of apprehension down his spine.

Jonah wasn’t sure what he was expecting. An imposing warlock, perhaps? Or a terrifying creature of the night, that preyed on anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. He didn’t know.

Regardless, he hadn’t been expecting this. 

Standing in the now open door way, was a woman. Her skin was pale white, creating a stark contrast with the dark hair that framed her face. A dark dress swept across the floor, hiding what Jonah assumed to be a pair of heeled boots underneath, just based on the sound that they created when hitting the floor. 

What stood out the most, however, were her eyes. Piercing red, they seemed to stare into Jonah's soul, picking apart every possible weakness and secret that he hid. It made him squirm, uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny. 

Still, despite her terrifying appearance, there was something… strange about her. Perhaps it was the curiosity that sparkled in her eyes, or the glowing fire that crackled behind her, at odds with the coldness of the rest of the castle. 

It was odd. Jonah hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Hello? May I help you?” The woman asked, her voice deep and rich. 

“Ah! Yes, um, hello! My name is Jonah, I just came to introduce myself and to welcome you to the Bear SMP.”

The woman gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me R.” 

Jonah couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter at the exchange. Everything felt so… formal. It was almost like he was suddenly a knight again, introducing himself to the lords of neighboring kingdoms, trying not to make a fool of himself. 

But that wasn’t the case here, was it. This wasn’t some court gathering, it was just him going to meet his neighbors. He tried to smile, to show that he meant no harm. 

He wasn’t sure if it worked. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you R. How are you settling in? Is everything going alright?” 

“Hm? Oh, yes, I’ve been settling in just fine. It’s been a rather nice change of pace from what I’m used to.”

“Ah, well that’s good. It’s always nice to break away from the norm once and a while.” Jonah tugged at the sleeve of his coat, unsure how he was supposed to breach the next topic. So far, R seemed to be rather lovely. 

But so had Bill and Neptune…

“I-” he started, trying to figure out the right words to say. 

However, he was quickly cut off. “Excuse me, Jonah?” R started, staring at him with a strange mixture of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. “I apologize if this sounds rude, but may I ask a question?” 

Jonah shook his head, trying to catch up with what was going on around him. “Wh— I— Sure?” 

“Why do you carry your sword and shield on you at all times? Why is it that you always seem to be wearing your armor? Is there something that I need to be aware of concerning my safety?” She asked, gesturing to the metal plates that always seemed to be present. 

Well shit. At least Jonah didn’t have to worry about gently breaching the subject now, right? R had taken care of that problem rather quickly. 

He was silent for a minute, trying to figure out the right words to say. 

“I’m a knight, it is my job to protect people.” There. That was good, right? Simple, straight to the point. 

His words seemed to have the opposite effect of what he wanted. Instead of calming her down, the woman’s eyes narrowed, the red glinting dangerously. 

“You’re a knight?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“And who exactly are you a knight for? Who is it that you are protecting? I was not aware that there were any lords in this place,” she drawled, her voice now holding a threatening edge. 

Jonahs hand drifted towards his sword, preparing to pull it out at a moments notice if anything happened. “There are no lords here. I simply protect the people, that is all. It is my job to make sure that no one gets hurt, whether it be from an outside threat, or an internal one. That is why we have the towers in place.” 

“The towers? What towers?” 

“The ones that border our lands. They are to help ensure that no one comes in with the intention of hurting our community.”

R took a small step backwards, her tall heels clicking against the floor. “You have towers, ones that are designed to keep people out?” 

“Yes, that is our intent.” Jonah couldn’t help but shudder at how formal he had gotten. It was so… unlike him. It didn’t feel right, not anymore. But it was his default state of being whenever he felt like he was being interrogated. 

“So it isn’t safe here, is it?”

“No, I never said that. There are simply things that Bear would like us to keep an eye on, and this is the best way to do that. The SMP is perfectly safe, I promise.” 

She took another step back, the sound echoing throughout the great hall. “Sir Jonah, I think it’s time you left. I need some time to myself.”

“I-” Shit. He really fucked this up, didn’t he? Still, he gave a deep bow to R and stepped back into the cold air. “Of course. I will leave you to it. Have a wonderful day, R.” 

She didn’t answer him, only turned her back and walked away. 

The final thing that Jonah saw was a pair of dark, heavy doors slamming closed, sealing the woman inside. 

[twstarchives]

Deuce Spade・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines

Star Send-Off Garments event card

Scary Dress event card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “An honors student needs to be able to balance both their studies and their club activities.”

Groovy “It’s nice to have friends where you both can lift each other up.”

Home Setting “I’m going to be an honors student.”

Home Transitions “Even now, there are times when I still can’t believe I’m a student at the prestigious Night Raven College.”

“It’s not that I hate the uniforms. It’s just that, uh... in the past, I used to rip my clothes a lot, so wearing them the way they’re supposed to be worn feels uncomfortable.”

“What class do you have next? I’m not that good at doing work... but I try my best because of that.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Are you ready? We’ll be in trouble if the teachers notice we’re late.”

Home Taps “If you haven’t gotten any food yet, want to go together? I recommend getting the cafeteria’s fluffy omelettes.”

“My dream...? Someday I want to become a powerful mage. That’s why I’ve got to study my hardest now.”

“It might seem daunting being in a place you’re not familiar with, but as long as you set your mind to it, things should turn out okay. It’s an experience.”

“Ace ran off somewhere skipping out on his class duties, huh? ...He really is a handful.”

“Stop it, I don’t like being prodded at so much. ...Hey, are you sure you heard me?”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I feel really sure about my strength. If you don’t believe me, wanna test it out?”

Groovy “You can’t be a mage unless you’ve got muscles! ...That’s what Coach Vargas told us.”

Home Setting “I gotta show off the best sides of me.”

Home Transitions “Moving around feels so nice. I also like that you don’t have to think too hard about it.”

“I heard that Jack hates hanging out with people. He never talks during club meetings either, but... weirdly, we hit it off.”

“Flying is actually pretty hard. I thought it’d be something more like riding a Magical Wheel.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Oh, you wanna go for a run together? Alright. I’ll wait here; you can go get changed.”

Home Taps “You’re bored? Then let’s go on a Magical Wheel ride somewhere... er, I forgot we’d need permission to go off-campus.”

“I was in charge of setting up our landline back home. I hope my mom hasn’t been having trouble with it...”

“Coach Vargas is the supervisor of the Track & Field club. Usually he’s a very passionate, respectable teacher, but when he gets started talking about muscles, he’s kind of...”

“Mud stains usually won’t come off on their own, so you need to hand-wash them before putting them in the washing machine. ...Everyone knows this kind of stuff, right?”

“...Hey! You don’t have to keep poking me; if there’s somewhere you wanna go, I’ll come with you.”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “There’s a lot of things I don’t know yet. I’m going to learn everything I can little by little.”

Groovy “I’ve made more progress since yesterday! ...I think.”

Home Setting “Alright. I’m gonna put in all I’ve got!”

Home Transitions “The stench of this potion I messed up won’t come off me... I smell like I just stepped out of a medicine box.”

“Diamond saw the grade I got on my test earlier. He wouldn’t stop laughing at it...”

“How is Grim able to hold that thin test tube with his paws? It’s a mystery.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Oh, glad you’re here. I was just thinking I’d like to take a break for a while. Want to walk with me to the Botanical Garden?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I’m not good at studying. I wouldn’t want to do it if I had the option, but... I can’t run away. I’ve made up my mind.”

Home Taps “It’s nice there’s always something new to learn in our classes. ‘Cause when I was in middle school, I, uh... was absent a lot... ‘cause of this and that...”

“I promise I’m not that awkward, but when people are saying so many things at once, I start freaking out.”

“The best thing I can cook are fried eggs. They can be really complex if you’re picky about them. I like mine over-easy.”

“If you’re stuck on a problem, you should ask Professor Crewel for help. He’ll explain it to you for hours until you completely understand it.”

“Huh?! Did I say something wrong!? ...Oh, it’s nothing? Don’t scare me like that.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Listen to this! I got some nice feedback on my test just now! It’s thanks to you studying with me earlier.”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “I can’t afford to look away. ‘Cause I’m going to become a powerful mage!”

Groovy “This is the pride of a student of Night Raven College.”

Home Setting “You want to hang out with me? You’ve got a good eye.”

Home Transitions “This academy is way too big! It’d be so much easier if we could move between classrooms through a mirror like how we get to our dorms.”

“Where are you going? Seriously... A teacher will yell at you again if you just wander off for no reason.”

“I’m going to study lots of things, and memorize lots of spells, and then someday I’ll... Ah, it’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Every time I wear these ceremony robes, I think about the entrance ceremony, and how nervou——er, ahem!”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Hey, could we take a picture together? I think it’d put my mom at ease too if she saw I made a friend.”

Home Taps “Night Raven College is a prestigious school anyone would kill to get into. The fact that I’m here is a huge honor.”

“Clover knows so much about everything, and he’s so dependable... I want to be like that someday too.”

“The ceremony robes represent this school. It makes sense that they added this classy embroidering so that other schools can’t make light of us.”

“People say that the amount of magic power you can have is determined at birth. But you wouldn’t have any at all without working hard for it in the first place.”

“Hey, don’t get a single speck on these clothes, alright? My ceremony robes are important to me.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “When I see you, someone who can’t even use magic, trying your best at this academy... it makes me not want to lose either.”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “I’ll become a committed man, just like a card soldier. That’s what I made up my mind to do.”

“Common sense doesn’t work at our dorm. You need to be prepared.”

Groovy “I would never abandon my friends. You can count on me!”

Home Setting “How are you? Have you gotten a little more adjusted here?”

Home Transitions “Does this outfit look good on me? I’ve never worn something like this before, so I feel a little awkward.”

“Just between you and me... I still feel kinda uncomfortable with the dorm’s tea parties. I’m not used to fancy things like that.”

“Trust me with playing croquet! So you just swing as hard as you can, right?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Be careful not to break any of the Queen of Hearts’ rules. Especially not when you’re on Heartslabyul.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Isn’t it lonely being at the Ramshackle Dorm by yourself? ...Huh? Oh, my bad. By yourself with one animal.”

Home Taps “Heartslabyul’s rules are strict, but a lot of them really do benefit you. ...Probably.”

“I swear my loyalty to this dorm, just like a card soldier. ...That’s what this button is supposed to mean. It’d be bad if I lost it, huh?”

“That force Dorm Leader Rosehearts has when he gets angry...! He’s a dorm leader alright—he’s not like anyone else.”

“Ace always cheats me when we play card games together, so they’re not fun. If I could just see through his trick...”

“Oh, actually, I’m in the mood to just go off and something too. Let’s go conquer the rose maze!”

Home Tap (Groovy) “If you were in Heartslabyul, it’d be a lot more... Nevermind. The Ramshackle Dorm really does suit you well, though. Haha...”

Duo Magic Deuce: “Ace! We’re gonna teach these guys a lesson!” Ace: “There it is—Deuce’s tough guy talk!”

Tutorial “Now, it’s starting.”

Lv Up “Alright, I think I did well.”

“Yeah, I feel like I got something.”

“I don’t wanna lose to anyone.”

Max Lv Up “I’ve never had anyone join me for intensive training as persistently as you have. I feel like I’ve been steadily making progress ever since I met you.”

Episode Lv Up “Heh... You and I are BFFs. ...Huh? ‘What does BFF mean’? You don’t know? Um... b... best friends, like... really close friends... Nevermind!”

Magic Lv Up “Heh... Maybe a day will come soon where I can start summoning something other than cauldrons.”

Limit Break “It’ll reflect badly on my role as a honor student if I don’t live up to your expectations.”

Groovy “My power is surging through my whole body. This is what it feels like to advance, huh?”

Lesson Select “You’re going to class, right? Let me know if you need anything. I don’t know if I’d be able to help you with your work, though...”

“C’mon, if you take your time choosing, you’ll be late to class. Let’s hurry to the classroom.”

“You just have to jump in and give it your all for whichever class you take. Make sure you’re ready for them.”

Lesson Start “Alright, let’s get started!”

Lesson End “It’s finally over. There’s a lot we have to remember.”

Battle Start “I’ll take you on all at once!”

Battle End “You see? This is the difference between our resolves.”

Other

Profile Quote “Today we’re having an Unbirthday Party. It’ll be off with our heads if we’re late.”

January 2020 Trailer “Hurry up and get over here. If you’re late to the tea party, you’ll lose your head.”

Countdown Poster “I’ll become a committed man, just like a card soldier. That’s what I made up my mind to do.”

Login Bonus “It’s important to just put in a little effort everyday. You know what they say—from little acorns mighty oaks grow.”

Player Birthday Wish “Oi, I heard it’s your birthday today. Don’t be a stranger; you should just tell me. I want to give my friends a huge celebration for their birthdays. Come on, I’ll get you something from the cafeteria.”

Valentine’s Day Gift Letter (2021)

These letters were originally in English. I didn’t translate or edit them in any way. They came with official merch from Aniplex, and are not present in-game.

Friend, Thank you for the present. You surprised me a bit with that since we don’t often get chances to give our classmates gifts. I’m so happy! Today is going to be a great day. I’ll thank you again when I see you in class later!

[inkslingersworld]

Zusammen: Part XI

Link to all parts here.

While Adrien and Kagami were eating dinner and agonizing over the newfound revelations, Luka Couffaine was eating licorice and agonizing over the upcoming concert.

What had caused the momentary lunacy that made him accept Rose’s offer for Kitty Section to perform some of his recently written songs at the music festival? It would’ve been all good and fine if they’d been instrumental, like most of his previous work, but these songs had lyrics. That he would be singing. In front of a multiple-thousand person audience. What had given his brain the audacity to short-circuit and make him respond “yes” to Rose’s question?

Though he’d never admit it as long as he lived, Luka despised singing. Not other people doing it, but himself. He couldn’t understand why; after he’d agreed to Rose’s suggestion, he practiced singing one of his songs in the shower, and he thought he sounded pretty good. Luka supposed it could have something to do with being watched by multitudes of eyes, but that didn’t make since either - he’d spoken at several former Kitty Section gigs without incident. For some reason, singing before a crowd just got him.

He gave a startled jerk at being tapped on the shoulder, turning to face his sister, Juleka.

“Luka, you good? You look a little pale, what’s the matter?”

“Uh... nothing. Just that these Twizzlers taste like rubber,” Luka answered, not necessarily lying.

Juleka gave him an understanding look. “If you want, we could feed them to Fang.”

“Is he supposed to eat licorice?” asked Luka.

“If he can eat Dad’s portable cassette player, I’m sure some candy won’t hurt him,” said Juleka.

“I thought Fang got sick after eating the cassette player,” Luka said confusedly.

“What made you think that?”

“Right after he ate it, I heard these awful wailing sounds from the bathroom. They went on for like an hour.”

“No, that was Dad mourning.”

“Oh, okay.”

Luka handed the half-empty packet of licorice to Juleka. She pocketed it and looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Luka asked.

“Aren’t you coming?” Juleka asked back. “It’s time to rehearse.”

“I-It’s time to rehearse?” repeated Luka nervously. “Now? I thought we had an hour!”

“It’s been an hour,” huffed Juleka impatiently, waving hair out of her face. “We would’ve finished already, but you said you needed to rehearse for the rehearsal and shut yourself up in your room.”

“Ah. R-Right.”

Juleka studied her brother’s anxious face intently. “Luka, you have nothing to worry about. You’re one of Kitty Section’s most talented members. Heck, you’re as good as Dad at this point.”

“Ouch,” said Luka, in a mock offended voice. 

Both brother and sister laughed heartily, but once the laughter subsided, Luka’s feeling of dread slowly crept back into his mind. 

“You ready?” asked Juleka.

Luka took a deep breath; he wasn’t about to let his friends down. 

“Alright,” he said, with as much confidence as he could muster. “I’m ready.”

===========

The performance space on the deck of the Liberty was lit only by outdoor string lights and the stars above in the heavens. When the spotlight flicked on and the band walked onstage, Luka had trouble determining who was in the audience. He could certainly make out his parents and Fang (they were in the front row), but all other faces were shrouded in darkness.

“Hi everyone!” chirped Rose effervescently. “You know us, we’re Kitty Section! This isn’t really a concert, it’s a rehearsal, but that doesn’t mean it has to be any less fun! One thing different about tonight’s performance is that we will be debuting some song written by our lead guitarist, Luka Couffaine!”

A smattering of applause followed Rose’s announcement. Luka squeezed his bracelet tensely.

“I have to say, Luka has written some truly fantastic songs for our band, and he will be opening our rehearsal by performing one of them for us! I give you, Luka Couffaine, playing his own original song, ‘The Quiet’!”

The applause returned stronger, although they could have thrown tomatoes for all Luka cared. “The Quiet”? No. No no no no no no no no no. He wasn’t overly fond of singing any of his songs, but especially not “The Quiet”. Luka had written that song to be performed a cappella - without instruments. 

Had he agreed to sing “The Quiet”? Luka couldn’t remember - the fear of singing in front of a crowd had shut out anything else at the time of Rose’s suggestion. He guessed he could ask Rose if he could sing another song, but once he’d thought of this, he was already at center stage, his mouth centimeters away from the microphone. Had he walked there? 

Focus, he thought. You can do anything. You’re Viperion, for Christ’s sake!

Luka opened his mouth to sing, but his vocal chords refused. 

I said ‘Focus’! his mind told him. Choose a single spot to train your eyes on. Look at nothing except for that one spot. Didn’t your dad say that helped to calm nerves onstage?

Yeah, he did, Luka said to his mind. 

He decided to stare at the Notre-Dame Cathedral; the Liberty was parked in an area of the Seine that provided a perfect view of the famous church. However, when his eyes traveled up from his shoes to gaze at the stained glass windows, Luka found something a million times better.

Marinette. The love of his life. The center of his whole world. 

How had he not seen her before? She was right up in the front row with his family, staring at him with a heartfelt expression that made Luka’s heart expand in his chest. He knew that as long as Marinette was here, everything would work out. 

Luka waved to his girlfriend. Marinette smiled widely and waved back.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

That’s how Luka wrote “The Quiet” to begin, with the calm shushing noise. After a four second pause, he began whispering the lyrics softly into the mic, just like the song was supposed to go.

Don’t cry now, darling / the quiet will keep you safe / lullaby now, darling / the quiet will keep you safe / sweet dreams are ‘round the corner / I’ll be waiting there for you / and we’ll fly above the clouds / with the wings our joy will bring / in the search for something new

Another four second pause; Luka had originally written “The Quiet” as a lullaby for Marinette, though this would be the first time she or anyone else heard it, unless there had been spies in the bathroom while he showered.

It’s all right, darling / the quiet will keep you safe / stars are out tonight, darling / the quiet will keep you safe / so lay down on the pillow / make sure to set your alarm / but I’ll stay awake a bit / to marvel at your peaceful face / and keep alert in case I need to protect you / from harm

Luka ceased singing; the song wasn’t very lengthy. Despite this, the applause was the strongest yet, accompanied by whoops and cheers, and even though Luka knew there were less than a dozen individuals seated before him, the clapping sounded loud enough to him to fill the Parc des Princes. He felt so relieved that he hadn’t frozen up during the performance that he didn’t even register Marinette approaching until she’d kissed him. Further cheering ensued as Luka kissed back, and when they finally separated, both of them were beaming.

“Luka, you were amazing!” said Marinette proudly. “I knew you were strong enough to not freak out!”

There was an awkward silence. Marinette’s smile slowly faded.

“Oops,” she said, beginning to blush. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“You guys knew I was nervous?” asked Luka, amused rather than upset. “How’d you even find out?”

“It was all Jagged,” grumbled Anarka annoyedly. “I tried to tell him you could handle yourself, but no, you needed emotional support.”

Anarka said the last two words in a frighteningly good Jagged impersonation. Everyone laughed, including the rock star himself, and Anarka couldn’t help chuckling.

There was a dinging sound. As all people in the vicinity kept laughing, Marinette pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked it. She stopped laughing almost immediately.

“Luka?” she asked uncertainly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Absolutely,” Luka replied, wondering what the matter was. 

Once they’d retreated to a secluded part of the boat, Marinette said, “Adrien just sent me a text.”

Although Marinette and Adrien no longer held romantic feelings for each other, they still had a close relationship that Luka mentally compared to his and Juleka’s. Marinette would usually react positively to a message from him.

“Why is Adrien texting you bad?” Luka asked, puzzled.

Marinette handed Luka her phone, and Luka read the text aloud.

“Marinette, I need you and Luka to meet me and Kagami at the Nerve Center as soon as possible. Better bring Nino and Alya for good measure. I know I don’t need to ask you to keep your Miraculous on you, but just be extra sure to have Tikki at the ready. Kagami and I have just made a lot of startling discoveries, and it may or may not involve Hawk Moth.”

Luka’s brow furrowed. “May or may not involve Hawk Moth? He isn’t sure?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” sighed Marinette. “I’ll go get Alya and Nino. If you want, I can provide an explanation for our absence.”

“Nah, it’s all right,” said Luka. 

Marinette smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek, and walked back towards the stage area.

Luka groaned. If Adrien was asking for them to meet him and Kagami at the Nerve Center, there was a very high possibility for superhero action to take place. 

And the night had started off so well, too.