#not sure how much time he has left but I want him to know he’s loved even at his worst

[entirelysein-e]

『 Popping your cherry 』

☼ synopsis: Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

☼ character: Nanami

☼ wc: 4.3k (oops)

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

☼ notes: I promised @kentophilia to repost one of my fave pieces 🥹

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, his mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand gently knocked against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open!” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover. “May I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time, but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “Yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep or during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes.

Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity, but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind,” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing past the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all,” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything, but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - his erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment, but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both of you yearned for more than just a makeout session.

By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it, but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you,” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish, but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment, but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him, which you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get a fresh towel for you, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off, was all you could focus on. You were grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in the room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you which caught you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew.

Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down, his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much, but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much!” You whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please,” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento,” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time.

Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before,” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his.

A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well,” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl,” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess. Just let go,” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more,” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body, he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release.

Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped over his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[fruittt-punchhh]

hey! MDNI, filthy smut ahead!! just a lil toji x fem!reader drabble. cw: smut, pet names, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, etc.

call me crazy and depraved but Toji is def obsessed with your stomach??? whether it’s flat and muscular or soft and squishy and hangs over the hem of your jeans or anything in between??

like you know he loves grabbing it when you’re cuddling, pulling you closer into him as he falls asleep. and when you feel shitty, he’s quick to come up behind you, kissing your neck and rubbing your belly as he tries not to let his hands explore further south.

oh and when you’re fucking?!!?!? jesus christ, he loves teasing your folds before he’s laying his heavy cock on your stomach, admiring just how deep he’d be when he’s finally ruining your guts. he pushes down hard on your stomach where he left a spot of precum, moaning as he says, ”think you can take all of me, hmm? gonna feel my cock all the way up here,” emphasizing the grip he had on your waist while he pushes his two thumbs into you even harder, surely leaving a bruise behind.

of course Toji loved a nice pair of tits and a big ass, and he loved your plush thighs to go along with the rest of your heavenly figure. but when you got ready for a date and put on the new bodycon dress he got you, he thought he might fall to his knees and eat every inch of you right then and there. seeing how perfectly the dress hugs your curves, and more importantly, accentuates your cute tummy, has him losing himself.

and we all know he loves fucking into you with your legs over his shoulders all mean and aggressive, rightly claiming that which belongs to him. pushing his hand down hard like the bastard he is on the soft flesh above your navel. asking, “you like that, huh? feel me all. in. here. right?”, he says, enunciating each word with a hard thrust into your addicting heat, “take all these fuckin’ inches like the slut you are,” he commands.

and his favorite thing of all is to paint your insides white, breeding your deep pussy by giving you all of his cum, forcing you to keep it in with two thick fingers plugging your hole. he keeps you stuck there, squirming for him as he kisses and bites on the fat of your tummy. “stop movin’ so much, ma’, m’tryna’ give you my babies. won’t work if you push it all out,” he says, watching as you bite your lip, loving the feeling of being stuffed full of nothing but him.

he can’t help but cum inside every time you two lay together, obsessed with putting another stupid brat in you. he wanted to watch your tummy swell with his seed and your tits get all plump and sensitive as you grow his child so well for him. (although he absolutely did not want another brat and this was purely his sick imagination at play)

he pulls his fingers out, making you whine at the lack of his warmth. he smirks, looking up at you, “nah, go ahead and push it out for me, baby. lemme see how much of a mess I made in that pretty cunt, please.” Toji isn’t much of a beggar, but when it came to you he was more than willing to ask for what he wanted.

“I’ll just be puttin’ another baby in you soon anyway, right doll?”

[lcriedlastnight]

Fake dating and drunken kisses with Oscar. The drunken kisses, with reader's fingers in Oscar's hair and reader sitting in his lap, kissing him with no restraint; things getting heated, Oscar's hands slipping under reader's top and earning a slight shiver from her. All the while, Oscar could only wish reader would kiss him like this when they're sober. Oscar lets that thought linger until they both fall asleep in each other's arms after kissing way too many times to count because they can't seem to get enough of each other.

thanks anon, lovely! i appreciate you very much.

tw: fem!reader. maybe a few swears. not spell checked. not too sure, lmk if you want me to add any.

w/c: 1.8k

it wasn’t oscar’s idea, he swears. but now he’s here, at this club, filled with his fellow drivers, random celebrities he can’t be arsed to learn the names of, multiple fan girls trying to get with lando and you.

he wasn’t even sure it was lando’s idea to go out to some random club in miami to celebrate his first win. it probably was, if he thought straight, but how could he? with a mix of a constant supply of alcohol and you swimming through his veins, he doesn’t know how anyone expects him to think straight.

he had the pleasure of you being glued to his side from the moment the both of you stepped into the club, your hand not leaving his arm for a whole thirty minutes.

this was all for show of course, but his friends around him didn’t know this, they thought whatever you and him had going on was real and it was nights like these where he could play into his deepest fantasies. the ones where you’re not all over him because you have to be, but because you want to be. like he longs for you to be.

you started off sitting beside him. your hand sitting loosely on his forearm, your touch light and tickling a little as you run your fingers over his bare skin. the more drinks you were convinced to down with lando, and the shots logan told you tasted so good, ended up with you being a little more than drunk.

so you went from sitting politely beside him, three hours before, to your legs slung over his lap, half sitting on him half not.

because oscar had had significantly less than you to drink tonight he was way less drunk and more tipsy. drunk enough to follow in your footsteps with how affectionate you were being. although he didn’t think he had to have alcohol to do it. just your permission.

“the thing is, batman really did hate the joker he was just afraid to let him know it. he for sure has like emotional problems or something. but by the end of the film he lets everyone in and it’s so nice!”. you had just finished explaining the plot of the lego batman film to oscar. he nodded along, listening as best as he could, although you did loose him at some points, he would have to watch it to see what you were talking about.

the table was almost empty by the end of your ramble, everyone having left because they didn’t really care much, neither did oscar but he cared about what you cared about so maybe he did.

he hums as his hand played with your hair, brushing it away from your face and tangling it between his fingers. he had a strong urge to kiss you right now. but your agreement had been to only kiss if everyone wasn’t convinced, which meant you guys had only kissed once or twice. and that was at the start of- well whatever this was. everyone was easily convinced you two were together. oscar didn’t know whether to be happy at annoyed.

oscar’s knocked out of his thoughts by you shuffling around to sit yourself on his lap. your smile bright.

“thanks for listening osc. m’gonna kiss you now, okay?” you mumble out, your hands holding onto his shoulders. oscar’s on your hips, holding you still.

he barely get a second to even register your words before your leaning down and locking your lips on his. he feels guilty because you’re way more drunk than him but before he can pull away from you, your mouth opens and you’re sloppily kissing him a little bit harder. he returns the favour, quickly.

you’re both interrupted by a voice calling over to you both to ‘get some!’. you pull away embarrassed, hiding your head in the crook of oscar’s neck. his hands jump to cradle the back of your head and your neck. his touch gentle and loving. oscar wants to kill whatever driver hollered at them. now you’re embarrassed and you’ll probably never want to kiss him again!

after maybe ten minutes you pop your head out from it’s hiding place. your eyes glassy as you stare at oscar.

“can we go home?” you ask him. you seem less drunk than you were before the kiss. maybe it sobered you up? oscar thinks for a moment before replying. “home?”.

“your room.” you clarify. your words come out shy, which surprises him. he’s never really seen you shy before. it’s a side he comes to enjoy. he nods at your words and quickly pulls his phone out to book an uber for you both.

you ungraciously pull yourself off his lap and stand, wobbling in your heels next to the table, waiting on him. oscar is quick to follow suit, making sure he has your purse and that your purse has all your things inside. once he’s sure he has everything he grabs your hand in his.

“c’mon pretty. we gotta say bye to lando first before we leave.” he tells you, voice all soft and syrupy. you nod, agreeing.

oscar pulls you through all the dancing bodies on the dance floor, his hand gripping yours tightly making sure you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd of people. he eventually spots lando in the corner and explains that you’re both leaving.

“you’re leaving! why?!” lando complains over the loud, thumping music. you wobble on your heels and half fall into oscar, who catches you quickly, like if you were to fall you would die.

“we’re getting pretty tired” oscar tells him, his eyes saying sorry, but he wasn’t really. not when you were coming home with him. lando pouts and complains but eventually bids you both goodnight before finding his dance partner again.

oscar says goodbyes to other people he sees on the way to the door, hand still clutching yours. you mumble your goodbyes too not wanting to seem rude. the uber is waiting for you both outside and oscar couldn’t be more glad wanting to get you to the hotel as soon as he can.

the boy helps you inside then gets inside too. he helps you buckle your belt, the alcohol in his system helping him converse with the driver, his hand glued to your thigh, rubbing softly.

you rest the side of your head on the car door and it thumps against it as the car follows the roads bumps and turns. oscar looks at you in concern but doesn’t mention it. the ride to the hotel isn’t as long as you thought it would be but you think it must be because of the alcohol.

oscar helps you out the car and thanks the driver before grabbing your hand again and leading you into the hotel. he thanks his luck once again this night, as he thinks about how lovey you were being with him. he knows you don’t do it normally because it’s not in your agreement unless necessary but god, to have you touch him like this when you were sober.

you both cling to each other in the elevator as oscar presses soft kisses to your shoulder as you stand in front of him. you lean your head back on his chest, revelling in his affection. the elevator stops at his floor and he leads you to his room.

“i’m sleeping in your bed with you tonight, by the way” you say as he swiped the key card and ushers you inside.

oscar’s brows jump up in surprise and amusement as a smirk makes its way to his mouth. “where else would you be sleeping, hm?” he asks.

that stupid smirk just makes you want to kiss it off of him, so you do. you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. oscar feels you straining and leans down to kiss you better. your hands make their way up to his hair to tug a little, earning yourself a little groan. this makes you smile into his mouth. he pulls away at this.

oscar doesn’t think his life can get any better as be presses firm kisses to your lips before pulling away, your own lips chasing his. he throws his head back with a silent groan before asking, “m’kay pretty girl, time for bed?”. you nod and let him lead you to get ready for bed.

you take significantly longer than oscar to get ready for bed, so he sits in his once lonely bed waiting for you, thinking about how good he must’ve been in his past life to be able to do this with you tonight. he wants to be this domestic with you for the rest of his life. he’s not even being dramatic. the sound of your footsteps breaks him out of his train of thoughts.

“hey, look at you! c’mere pretty.” oscar coos as he pats his lap, signalling for you to sit. you follow his directions and clamber into his lap, still a little drunk. the boy holds back a chuckle. he feels drunk then too but not off those stupid shots you took with logan, off your touch. he thinks about your dress from tonight. then he kisses you again.

oscar traces your lips with his tongue and you open for him, letting him in. you kiss each other lazily, you’re in no rush. your hands find his hair again tugging again. in retaliation his own hand moves from your waist to slide underneath your (his) t-shirt. he lays a big, open palm on your back, almost supporting you as you sit on top of him.

you two kiss for what seems like days but is only a few hours. oscar can tell from your kiss bitten lips. he smiles at your tired and glassy eyes as you tell him you’re tired.

you end up with your face pressed against his chest and your legs tangled up with his, your feet touching his somehow. you mumble into his chest, but oscar misses it.

“what, pretty?” he asks, a hand scratching gently at your scalp to help lull you to sleep.

“said night osc.” you tell him, a little louder this time. he grins at your tired voice.

“oh. sorry, g’night pretty girl” oscar must be too late though as he feels your breath even out. he sighs to himself, his hand still moving. there’s no way he was getting sleep any time soon. mind racing around the fact that he could be doing this every night with you, if he just told you.

your touch, your kisses, every night. oscar loved seeing you free tonight. he wanted that for you everyday. there was definitely a conversation to be had tomorrow.

[seungcheorry]

"you deserve way better than this", seungcheol says beside you. his attention is on the road in front of him as he drives, so he doesn't actually realize the moment you look at him.

you watch him, dressed in all black, golden watch in his left wrist, brown fluffy hair pushed back by his sunglasses. he's driving his amazing, expensive car, looking glorious at 28 years old - it looks like he has everything figured out, while you clearly haven't got there yet.

"and i mean it", he insists when you don't say anything. "you always take care of everyone around you - hell, you even take care of me -, so you don't have to do this if you don't want to. it's your life we're talking about, if they really care about you they will understand you."

it was so much easier said than done, right? as your best friend, cheol knows everything that's going on in your life; he's your number #1 supporter, always ready to cheer for you, to scold you when needed, to laugh and cry with you at any moment. it only seems natural, for him, to think that that's the standard for you, what you deserve. but you know better than that - you know not everyone will love you and protect you and understand you like he does.

and that includes your family.

"it's not that simple, cheol", you shake your head. "they need me, so i gotta help."

"you always help, yn!"

"well, because they've always helped me too!"

"and that's the point you're missing", seungcheol sighs. "if you tell me you're fine doing whatever they need you to do, that you're 100% sure, then it's okay - i'll even help you. but if it's gonna mess up your life, make you helpless, but you're still doing it because you feel like you owe them something, then it's my job to intervene and tell you to get your shit together."

it's your time to sigh, looking straight ahead at the road.

"they're your family, i get it, i love them too. but you can't. solve. people's. problems", seungcheol slightly hits the steering wheel at every word, just to make his point clearer.

"they need me to be the big person, so that's what i'm gonna do", you reply, crossing your arms.

cheol sighs one more time - he isn't surprised, to be honest. you're just as stubborn as he is, just as tough as he is, and that's why you two work so well as best friends, as siblings, almost.

"you're always the big person", he whispers, defeated. because he knows how tiring it can be, to be the adult, to take care of people, to solve everything when the ones who should be solving it act like kids.

but he's your best friend, after all. so he wasn't going anywhere, not when you would probably need him the most.

a/n: this is for everyone who's an only child and has to be the voice of reason sometimes, take care of your family sometimes, make decisions and take responsibilities you shouldn't need to sometimes. we got this. you ain't alone. ❤️🍒

[eggyrocks]

35MM CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: as she sees it

track number eighteen: don't think twice it's alright by bob dylan

masterlist

He can see it. Clearly and vividly. Akaashi can see the world through her eyes, and it's beautiful.

In the theater, she leaned in close to him, the length of her shoulder pressing against his as she spoke, voice low and considerate despite the nonstop noise rumbling through the audience. She waved her pom poms in the air in approval and gave Akaashi a slight nudge when the character he's replicating appeared on screen. She gushed praise over the use of color, giggled in his ear about her favorite lines, and bit down on her lip when the emotional climax brought tears to her eyes.

When they left, she took that 35MM camera around her neck and made him stand in front of the marquee. She wouldn't let him move until she got a genuine smile out of him.

"I thought you only took photos of things that inspired you?" Akaashi asked, looking for his car keys as means of avoiding eye contact.

She was just a step behind him. "Who's to say you don't inspire me?"

Now his hands shake slightly as he grips the steering wheel. He's grateful she's providing an in-depth explanation about the brilliance of the film's set design, because he's not sure he could manage a conversation.

Nerves creep up from the pit of his gut to the center of his chest like they always do whenever she's around. Akaashi tries to center his focus on her stream of conscious commentary, but he keeps finding himself getting lost in her voice. He thinks it's a pretty sound. Something he wants to hear more of.

The closer he gets to her apartment, the worse his nerves get. He pretends to not know why, but he does. And when he pulls up to the side of the road where her apartment sits and shifts into park, he can feel them tightening around his throat. Her rant stops, and he shifts in his seat to face her. "Thanks for letting me come with you tonight."

She grins, brightly and widely, beaming like a refraction of light, warm and colorful. "Thanks for coming with me, and putting up with my nonstop talking."

Akaashi smiles. He's feeling selfish. Nervous and selfish and guilty and giddy. "I like how much you talk. I like hearing what you have to say."

She snickers. "You might be the only one."

Selfish, selfish, selfish. It repeats in his head. A self-crucifying mantra. "I can be the only one."

For the first time that night, she goes silent.

The world, as she sees it, is cinematic. It is the blue nostalgia of a coming-of-age film and the furious red heat of vintage slasher. It is the familiar grain in film and the growing tension of a unsettling score. She understands the world and it understands her, and this mutual sort of understanding allows her to bend and reshape what the world has given her, and make something beautiful.

Beautiful.

She talks about intricate details that go over his own head. The tone of her voice conveys a clear love and passion that tugs at Akaashi's chest. She smiles when she speaks and it makes Akaashi feel like he would give her anything she wanted, anything she asked for.

He leans in closer. Slow enough to know what he's doing. Slow enough to know it's wrong. Slow enough for her to stop him, if she wanted.

Her eyes go sort of wide, and he can see that she holds her breath. He inches closer. She doesn't stop him. Akaashi leans over the console and he can smell her perfume. Selfish, selfish, selfish. He raises a hand, and the tips of his fingers trace along the line of her jaw. A shudder goes down her spine. She doesn't stop him. His hand inches up until his fingers breach the roots of her hair, and his palm cups her cheek.

She stares at him, eyes wide and unblinking. He stares back. For a moment, he's still. He contemplates, a moment. Akaashi acknowledges his actions. He acknowledges their consequences.

And Akaashi kisses her anyways.

-> fun facts!

i did not proofread this

like not even a little

yn typed out “you guys” like 15 times and spelled it wrong a new different way each time

it took yn like a good ten minutes to calm down before she could tell iwa noya and kema what happened and by that point they had already put the pieces together

yn and akaashi shared popcorn during the movie and akaashi was really careful not to reach for it at the same time she did

their dinner together was spent mostly talking about each of their favorite medias, books, music, movies, etc

akaashi’s favorite book is the absolute classic frankenstein which prompted yn to ramble about its adaptations

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @rinheartshyunlix @causenessus @bookworm-center @kettlepop @makkiroll @atsumou @eyes-ofhell @kawaii-angelanne @ryeyeyer @k8nicole @mydearchoso @phoenix-eclipses @lixie-phoria @suitstars @reneny @scxrcherr @ueknightbl @iluvaquaphor @sleezzsister @barricadesenthusiast @staygoldsquatchling02 @hyunskzza @nemesii @sereniteav @crimsoncamra @gsyche @evening-latte @rrosiitas @kunimix @kitnootkat @aquariarose @iluv-ace @sparkei @gl6ss

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello this is my first time doing an ask. Would you be able to write Trey, Ruggie, and Jamil. (Maybe Azul if you can) Reacting to there darling cooking dinner and having obviously less food than them.

I'm sorry if this makes no sense. Also I love your writing. 🐙💜 Octo heart <3.

A Giving Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Money is tight for an otherworlder and it’s a beautiful chance that you get a roof over your head at the very least. Maybe a small but oh so generous allowance is enough for one student at Night Raven. But you weren’t a student on your own–you were only one half of the puzzle. And you’re allowance doesn’t exactly understand that Grim’s lack of control doesn’t stop past the doorway of Ramshackle. It’s not all Grim but expenses pile up and sometimes you’ll make the ultimate decision to maintain the reserves you do have. And just because you’re struggling doesn’t mean the friends you cherish should suffer…it’s just that some sacrifices are meant to be:

Trey Clover

“Hey Trey I just wanted to thank you for all the sweets you give me, so here’s a lunch I made!”

“Wow thank you (Y/n)! That’s so nice of you. Guess that’s why you told me not bring lunch today…(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“Where’s your lunch?”

“Oh don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!”

“I’m buying you lunch…and dinner.”

He’s annoyed 

Because you didn’t rely on him in the first place

He was sure that by giving all the sweets he did it would convince you he was perfect to share all your problems with

But it seems your selflessness knows no bounds

And luckily neither does his love

He’s happy the science club will finally be of use to him

He just needs something that will compel you to tell him all that’s going on

Sure he can talk to Grim but then that might get the monster to start talking with others

“But I don’t need–”

“Yes you do. I have to make sure your eating! How else are you going to live long enough to be my spouse.”

Ruggie Bucchi

“Thanks for helping me roll our jerseys, (Y/n).”

“No problem! Hey I also made you dinner I left it on the table for you!”

“T-t-thanks..”

“Yay! Dinner!”

“(Y/n)...aren’t you eating too?”

“I’m actually going to keep at it! So enjoy dinner.”

“...”

He knows exactly what your doing

He’s seen his grandmother do that same thing 

He hates that you do that

He hates how much you remind him of himself

And he knows you’re too much of a goody two shoes to do whatever it takes to survive

Good thing he isn’t 

Guess he better fill up your cabinets more often 

And have Leona pay for more of your meals

Until then he’s got no problem hazing and stealing from whoever to make sure you’re eating

“I’m not going to let you go hungry. Laugh with me!”

Jamil Viper

“You really didn’t have to cook for me, (Y/n).”

“Seriously Jamil don’t worry about it, it’s the least I could do. You’re always cooking for us when we go to Scarabia.”

“...(Y/n) is that really all you want to eat?”

he refuses to let such a thing go 

He almost finds it insulting that you serve him without feeding yourself properly

Especially since he knows just how much you can eat

He pays attention

He’s peeved because he has access to all sorts of resources as Al Asim’s servant 

And he knows Kalim would shower you if he even caught wind of it

He knows just how little you want to share

You’re so gullible and naive he almost feels bad that he has to take control from you

Not really

“Tell me what you’d really like (Y/n)? And I want you to believe that only I can give it to you.”

[sanguineterrain]

okay i've had this thought brewing for a while and i think you're the only writer who would do it justice!

reader meets jason again post-lazarus pit and he's amazed by how different reader is look-wise. reader was a teenager the last time they saw jason and now as an adult they've gotten a more "adult" body. reader is curvier, fleshier, no longer as lean as they were as a teen and is a bit self conscious about their body. but it drives jason wild to see his old crush all grown up into this mature body, hell he's changed a lot too. but yeah i feel like jason would be so body positive and full of praise 🩷

decided to combine this with a request i got for this prompt: 8) we share the bed because this is what we’ve done since we were kids, regardless of the adult implications now. i so agree with you anon, i think jason would be simultaneously body positive and absolutely FERAL for his old/current crush ;)

jason todd x gn!plus-sized!reader. reader used to work with the bats and is best friends with jayjay. reader is insecure and speaks poorly about their body. jason does NOT like that and desires you carnally! wahoo! suggestive content but no outright smut.

****

You haven't been in Jason's room in five years.

Alfred's kept it pretty much the same. Same books on the shelves, same Gotham Knights sweatshirt Dick gave Jason for his birthday. The curtains are the same shade of maroon, and the left one has a tear from when you played with a batarang. Jason had covered for you and was grounded for a week.

You flip through a dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers. A few of the pages have underlining in pencil. You trace them with your finger.

The door creaks open. You look up.

Jason freezes in the threshold. His wrist is bandaged and you can see stitches on his forehead. You frown.

"Hey." You set down the book and go to him, offering your shoulder for him to lean on. "You okay?"

Jason sighs, ignoring your shoulder. "Who called you?"

"What d'you mean? We're psychically linked, Jay-Jay. I sensed that there was trouble afoot in Gotham City."

"Uh-huh. That didn't work when you tried to convince the old man I needed a puppy because you psychically divined that it knew me in a previous life."

"You and that Terrier were soulmates and I'll hear nothing of the contrary."

You take Jason's arm, despite his protests that he can make it two feet to the bed. He lays down, trying to hide how his arm twinges in pain. You frown and slip in beside him.

Jason's a lot bigger than he was the last time you shared a bed. Well. You both are. You roll over so you're facing him, squished against his side. You pull your leg up, suddenly self-conscious about everything Jason might be able to see.

Jason is warm. He's warm and big and solid and good God, you've missed him.

Your best friend is also fucking gorgeous and you really want to kiss him, but, uh. Ignoring that. You're very practiced at ignoring the urge to kiss Jason.

"Thanks for comin'."

The light is still on, casting a soft orange glow across Jason's features. He glances at you, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. You can count all the freckles on his nose, this close.

"I'll always come when you call, Jay," you say. "Well, when Dickie calls. Said you got a concussion."

He turns his head, sighing at the ceiling. "'S not a big deal. Mild concussion. Leslie said I'll be fine in a week, but we all know that's code for two days."

"Yeah, I don't think so. You bats really are birds of a feather."

"How dare you. 'M nothing like those wackos."

"Sure, buddy. Keep lying to yourself. You brought me in all those years ago for a little normalcy."

"My mistake," Jason says.

He gets thwacked with a pillow for that. It fluffs his curls. He grins at you.

You tuck in closer, resting your chin on his uninjured shoulder. Jason turns his head so his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You can have the bed," he says.

"Don't be a silly goose."

"'M gonna go home anyway."

You scoff. "Not like this, you're not."

"Been worse for wear."

You roll your eyes. "How are you gonna ride your bike with one arm and one leg, genius?"

"Please, babe. The real question is how will I sneak past Alfred?"

"I'm a babe, now?"

Jason half-smiles. "Always were."

"Liar. Can you imagine me in a Batsuit again? Exactly, you can't. I simply don't have the bod for it."

"Hey." Jason reaches down and gently pinches your thigh. "Why ya doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Talkin' bad about yourself. Don't do that. 'Sides, it ain't true."

"Jaybird." You level him with a look. "Be serious. I know you're my best friend and you have to say that, but c'mon. I've seen the hotties you work with. Hell, I've seen Bruce and Dickie."

Jason's face twists in disgust. "Do not call my dad and brother hot."

"Okay, fine. I've seen you."

His brows rise. "What?"

"What, what?"

"Are you... callin' me..."

You snort. "Duh. Have you seen yourself? You've always been cute, Jason. If you didn't have the demeanor of a honey badger, you'd be fending off marriage proposals left and right from the Gotham public. You've always been the prettier one, Jay-Jay."

Jason's quiet. You keep going.

"Anyway, neon's never been my color, and it seems like that's a pretty immovable requirement these days. Like, I get Clark's trying to be seen from space but he doesn't get bloated. And the Spandex? Goodness gracious—"

"Y'really see yourself like that?"

Jason's staring at you with a wrinkled brow, mouth set.

"Like what?"

"Like you're not pretty? Like I'm too good for ya?"

You prop your head up on your arm. "You've always been too good for me, Jason Todd."

"That's just not true. And you're fuckin' beautiful, so stop sayin' that shit."

You blink. "Jay, c'mon—"

"No. It's true, so stop. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure to know, and if anybody's gettin' proposed to, it's you."

"Jason." Your face is on fire. Why did you open your mouth? "Stop. It's fine. So I'm different; my body's changed and shit. I'm not an athletic vigilante anymore. My thighs have, like, their own zip code. It's my own fault. I didn't keep up the training and whaa—!"

In one fluid motion, Jason's rolled you onto him. Your legs straddle his waist. You catch yourself on his shoulders, then begin to scramble off, burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I'm heavy, you're injured—" you babble, picking up your leg.

"Will you quit?" Jason keeps your leg exactly where it is, tenderly stroking your ankle with his thumb. "Actin' like I'm made of whipped cream."

"You're concussed."

"Mildly."

"Stop, Jason. Please. You don't have to do this to-to prove a point. I get it, I won't talk bad about myself."

Bit hypocritical, considering some of the stuff you know for a fact Jason believes about himself.

But this is humiliating, your extremely attractive, crime-fighting best friend pretending that you haven't totally let yourself go all to bolster your ego.

"Nah, I don't think you get it," Jason says conversationally. His hand creeps under your shirt. You squirm. "I really, really don't think you get how fuckin' gone I am for ya."

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Now, that's my fault, never sayin' anything. I was being cowardly. So lemme make it clear for ya, sweetheart."

His hand leaves your ankle and pulls your face to his. And then Jason kisses you.

"You're concussed," you whimper against his mouth. "Jason, you're—"

Jason laughs, low and sweet. He strokes the side of your face. "I could have amnesia and I wouldn't forget the fact that I've been in love with my best friend since I was fourteen."

"Are you sure you don't want me to move? I can—"

"No way. Y'know how long I've wanted you on me? Shit, I sound like a creep, thinking 'bout you like that, but—"

Jason rolls you both onto your sides. He hefts your leg over his, so you're slotted between each other. Then he kisses your neck, mouth hot and desperate. You gasp, belly swooping.

How long have you wanted this? How long did you believe you'd never feel this way about another person after Jason?

"I can promise you," Jason says, breathing hard against your skin. "You're a knockout. You knock me out. And I'll knock out anyone who says otherwise."

You huff and get a little braver, kissing Jason and returning him onto his back. He grins, sharp and hungry. He wants you. There's no doubt.

"I still think you're concussed," you murmur, letting him feel up your shirt. "But lucky for you, I have the utmost sympathy for poor, bedridden Bats."

Jason hums, grunting when your teeth scrape his ear. "Oh, I've always known I was the lucky one, having you."

[jgracie]

BUZZCUT SEASON

masterlist | rules

in which jason’s monthly trim turns into something much bigger

pairing jason grace x gn!reader

warnings i mention that reader changes their hair often!

an for all the buzzcut jason enthusiasts <3 this is very overdue so sorry my loves and thank u for ur patience with me xx 💌

after you trimmed jason’s hair for him one morning on the argo, the ship quiet save for your whispered confessions of love and the snipping of scissors, it became tradition for you to always do his hair for him - you’d insisted the next time you caught him hacking away at his gorgeous blond locks, and who was he to deny you?

every time you did it, you’d cut jason’s hair the same way, the roman way. it was the only way jason knew, and he wasn’t one to experiment; that was more your thing. in the years jason has known you for, his hair had stayed the same while you’d sported a bob, bangs and several different colours of hair, all of which he found you effortlessly beautiful in

jason admired you for the way you embraced change without a second thought. sometimes, he wished he wasn’t so afraid of something so inevitable. often, he prayed he’d finally muster up the courage to shed his old skin

“jase, stop moving, i really don’t wanna mess this up,” you said, giggling as you ran your fingers through jason’s grown out hair. as you did so, you recalled the first time you’d trimmed jason’s hair for him, marveling at how soft it was

the boy heeded your command and sat as still as he could, but said nothing. this worried you. despite not being the loudest, jason often engaged in your banter, and you’d expected some comment about how you could never mess up in his eyes to leave his pouted lips

a noah kahan song played from the living room - you’d forgotten to take the vinyl off its player - and filled the comfortable silence you were in. jason silently stared at himself in the mirror as strands of his hair landed on his shoulders, intently watching himself morph into the jason everyone knew: the son of jupiter, the praetor, the champion of juno, the son of rome

he snapped out of his thoughts once he heard you say, “all done!” with a bright smile plastered on your face as you pinched his cheeks. jason gave you a small smile of his own and mumbled his thanks, but a horrible feeling gnawed at his heart, eating him alive. was this really who he was? is this who he’ll always be? will he always be clinging onto a past he could barely recall?

jason’s eyes followed you as you put the scissors back where they belonged, right next to the razor. that day had finally come

“wait,” he said, his voice louder than he expected it to be. you turned and raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, “i want it off.”

your voice went up an octave as you asked, “off? like a buzzcut?”

he nodded, fiddling with the single ring he had on his finger. despite it being his own hair, jason found himself hoping he hadn’t offended you in some way

he hadn’t. you grabbed the razor and motioned for him to sit back down, knowing jason better than he knew himself meant you knew how much the simple act of changing the way he wears his hair means to him

the sound of the razor’s buzzing accompanied noah kahan’s northern attitude and you met the eyes of jason’s reflection. “are you sure about this?” yours seemed to ask, despite already knowing the answer they were going to receive. jason’s bright blue ones hardened - “i’m sure”

jason’s head felt lighter as more and more hair left it, and he felt like a weight was lifted from off his shoulders. he no longer carried the burdens of his past self. his old skin had finally been shed

BONUS! ₊˚⊹♡

[imaginespazzi]

Not sure if this counts as chaotic family, but I can’t get enough of your writing! I’ve read the ucla story and embarrassing number of times lol.

Can you please write Azzis first day back at practice and Paige is just so excited for her and they’re being cute all morning and then during practice they’re both so happy and then someone fouls azzi hard and she goes to the floor and Paige like kinda yells at them and then azzi tells her to calm down and she’s fine and Paige then apologizes while they’re all eating after practice and the team kinda teases her for getting all defensive about her wife.

Thank you my love and hopefully this lives a little bit up to what you wanted (even if it's unedited and it's been a little bit since you asked for it):

"Happy first day to you, happy first day to you, happy first day dear Azzi, happyfirstdayofbeingclearedforbasketballactivities to you," Paige sing-songs, the last sentence being mushed together so she can make it fit to the tune of "happy birthday, as she wraps her arms around Azzi from behind.

"My poor ears," KK whines dramatically and if Paige wasn't in such an absolutely fantastic mood, she'd give her youngest child the middle finger, but right now, she's too by smiling into her girlfriend's neck.

Azzi giggles, leaning back into Paige and letting herself be wrapped in the blonde's arms, "you're such a sap."

"Your sap," Paige coos before taking her delegated seat on the chair next to Azzi, left hand immediately seeking out a way to intertwine with the younger girl's right one, "you excited to play today babe?"

"So excited," Azzi whispers, wistfulness echoing in her voice. For the most part, the shooting guard excels at hiding her emotions and throughout her injury, she'd done a pretty solid job of keeping them in check. But that doesn't mean she hasn't felt the sting of being away from the sport she loves, every single day. And no one knows that feeling more than Paige as she presses a soft kiss against the younger girl's temple.

"Gonna show us all up at practice today huh Az?" Ice teases and Azzi just shrugs noncommittally with a slight smirk.

But Paige, forever the president of the Azzi Fudd fanclub, is quick to reply for her, "you bet your ass she is."

The rest of the team cheers and it's heartwarming really, how excited everyone is to have Azzi playing again. There's a buzz around the team as they walk into the practice center, the buzz of all their missing pieces starting to fit together. It had begun with Jana, and then Ayanna and now Azzi. With every return, the march towards UConn's 12th national championship, seems clearer and clearer.

It's the first time in a long time, that they have enough bodies available for them to play 5x5 with just the team alone. Much to Paige's chagrin, coach doesn't allow her and Azzi to be on the same team despite her incessant whining ("we haven't played together in ages Coach" "you'll play together all season" "azzi tell him he's being unreasonable" "whatever you say coach" "TRAITOR") but she's not all that upset about it. After all, Paige is nothing if not a competitor and beating Azzi has always been one of her favorite things.

Team adrenaline is on full display, everyone's eagerness to beat each other, but most importantly get better together, on full display as with every minute passing, the game seems to get more and more aggressive. There are no refs and Coach lets them play through the contact, knowing most of them will need to play like that during the season considering how fucking shit terrible the NCAA refs could be.

Call her a psychic but Paige sees it happening before it actually does. Azzi has been great throughout, faltering only once or twice, but that was to be expected her first practice back. It happens in a split secondas she's setting herself for a step-back pull-up, Morgan putting her whole soul into defending her. Something happens in between Azzi shooting the ball and it going in the net and the next thing Paige registers is her girlfriend, her only just recently cleared for basketball activities girlfriend, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

Paige is absolutely still for a second, her vision blurring in red and then-

"WHAT THE HELL MORGAN," Paige's voice echoes around all of Werth, as she marches to where the freshman is helping Azzi up.

She's aware of everyone's eyes on her now, can practically feel the death stare Coach is giving her for letting her emotions get the best of her but Paige doesn't give a damn. All she knows is that this is Azzi's first practice and no one should be being that aggressive with her.

"It was an accident," Morgan recoils, clearly unsure of what do to when her superstar teammate looks like she might murder her.

"DOESN'T MATTER. YOU DON'T FOUL SOMEONE LIKE THAT," Paige yells and even she's aware she's being just a tad bit unreasonable, "SHE LITERALLY JUST GOT BACK. WHAT IS WRONG YOU?"

"Hey hey hey," Azzi pushes a hand against Paige's chest, lightly shoving her back and it's instantaneous the way every part of her seems to calm down at that little touch, "I'm fine."

"That's not the point." Paige spits out through gritted teeth, still glowering at Morgan. Through the periphery of her vision she can make out KK, Ice and Jana snickering and makes a mental note to yell at them because this is NOT an amusing situation thank you very much.

"There is no point," Azzi says firmly, fingers rubbing a soothing pattern down Paige's arms, "it's basketball. Shit like this happens. You need to calm the hell down."

Before Paige, who's slowly beginning to relax into her girlfriend's touch, can say anything, a sharp whistle blows behind them. Knowing exactly who blew it, Paige whispers a prayer to herself before turning to look at furious Geno Auriemma.

"Good job, you just got yourself a technical," he seethes, one hand immediately going up in anticipation of Paige's protest, "do that in an actual game and I will eject you myself.

As Paige nods meekly, the muffled giggles behind her only get louder and when she looks to the side, her own girlfriend, the traitor, is trying to hide a smile.

"It really do be your own people," Paige scoffs and much to her displeasure, the laughs only get louder.

***

"Azzi says I have to apologize to you," Paige grumbles to Morgan as she and Azzi walk into the dining hall after practice, hands swinging together.

Morgan, the good-natured girl she is, just smiles and nods, "nah you're all good. I get it."

"See," Paige says pointedly to her girlfriend who immediately rolls her eyes, "Morgan gets it. You'd do the same too right Morgs?"

"Oh no," Morgan smirks, "I would never. I just know that you're kinda insane when it comes to Azzi."

Paige splutters as Azzi giggles into her shoulder, "I am not insane."

"You're the definition of insane," Jana says.

"And the definition of whipped," Ice chirps in, high-fiving her fellow forward.

"I am not," Paige whines, turning to Azzi "baby tell them I'm not."

"Well I can't lie Paige," Azzi says slowly and Paige lets out an offended squeal.

"You're my girl and you won't even defend me? Can't trust nobody these days."

As Paige pouts, KK waltzes into the dining hall. There's a smirk on her while she walks to the team table and exaggeratedly elbows Azzi on her way there.

"Oh no Azzi, I'm so sorry, I just bumped your arm, Please don't hurt me Paige," KK cowers into Ice, dramatically shielding her body, and the whole team, traitors the lot of them, burst into laughter.

"You're not funny," Paige seethes, crossing her arms, "I hate all of you."

It only makes the rest of the team laugh harder and it isn't until Azzi wraps Paige into her arms, that Paige's annoyed expression softens.

"Hey," the younger girl whispers, and just like that even in the cacophony, they're in their own world, "you are a little insane-"

"Azzi-"

"But I like that you're a little insane," Azzi whispers, before booping Paige's nose and giving her a soft kiss, eliciting a shy smile from the older girl.

And really, if Azzi likes her being insane, Paige is prepared to be insane for a lifetime.

[aperrywilliams]

More Than You Say (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Part 1: More Than You Know

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Spencer mulls over what you said and your love confession during your last fight. And he knows how deeply he fucked up this time. After admitting he is in love with you, Spencer wants to fix things. Are you willing to let him?

Word Count: 5.6k

TW: ANGST. Strong language. Mention of abduction, drug use, getting shot, death of relatives and loved ones, jail, and unsafe sex. If I forgot anything, let me know.

A/N: This is the aftermath of 'More Than You Know' from Spencer's POV. I'm not going to lie. This one ends worse than the previous one. The good news is that there is a third chance, meaning a third part. Maybe they will have luck in that one.

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Spencer doesn't know how long he has stood there, looking at the door you shut when you left. His first thought was to run after you, but he refrained.

What could he have said to you?

Sitting in the chair that you left vacant, he takes a deep breath. The room feels suffocating to him.

Your words keep reverberating in his brain, and Spencer wants to feel utterly surprised, but it would be a lie. Not that he precisely knew what was going on; it was more like he sensed something was off, and he ignored it.

Like a royal asshole.

The hurt in your eyes is something he knows he will never forget. Those kind eyes that were always welcoming and understanding, this time, only reflected betrayal and pain.

Spencer hates his mouth and the way his words can do so much harm.

Rewinding the past months in his brain, Spencer tries to figure out how you both ended like this.

You never told him how you felt, and Spencer is sure about it. He would have done something if you did.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Emily walking into the room.

"She told you, didn't she? You must have hella pissed her off," Emily muses. And Spencer can't help but return a confused look.

"Wait. You knew?"

Emily let out a frustrated sigh, sitting in front of Spencer.

"Sometimes I wonder why that amount of IQ doesn't pay off," she wonders. Seeing the man still clueless, she continues talking. "Spencer, possibly the only one who didn't know at this point was you."

Great. Everyone knew but him. Spencer wants to dig a hole and disappear right now.

"Why she didn't tell me?"

The question is more to himself than Emily. She answers nonetheless.

"I'm not sure if she ever wanted you to know. If you hadn't pushed her the way you did, she would never have told you, I guess."

Spencer takes in Emily's words and starts questioning everything about you and him in the past months.

"I assumed so many things lately, and now I'm unsure if they are true or part of my imagination," he says, frustrated, raking his hands through his hair.

"You have the answers, Spencer. Even if you think you don't."

Spencer scoffs at that. He doesn't fucking know anything. That's the problem. He needs to fix something but doesn't know what it is.

"I need to talk to her," he decides, standing and walking to the door. Before he could cross the threshold, Emily calls his name.

"Reid, wait."

Spencer turns to see Emily. She has a stern look.

"Don't talk to her unless you know what you want to say."

Spencer's eyes narrow. He can't conceive of not talking to you right now. He wants to run to your place right away.

"What? But Emily, I need to know-"

Spencer argues, but Emily doesn't let him finish.

"You'll figure it out. Just don't rush it. She has been through a lot. At least you owe her that. Think about what she told you first."

Spencer doesn't know what to do—the compulsion to run after you clouds his senses, but Emily has a point. He doesn't know what to say. Yeah, he is sorry for what he said to you and how he treated you, but an 'I'm sorry' won't fix it.

Besides, until that day, Spencer thought you both were only friends, and you were okay with it. He only pegged all your apprehensions and the words of concern like a friend's worry.

It seems he did a great job ignoring what it was in front of his eyes.

You said you loved him. And Spencer has no reason to doubt your words, even if he told you he does.

Spencer leaves the conference room defeated and with a weight over his shoulders he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he passes your desk, he sees it empty, and his stomach clenches. It's like being in a parallel world where you are not next to him, and just imagining it disturbs him.

The rest of the team watches as Spencer wanders around the BAU like a lost puppy, wondering if this will make him really reflect on how he's been leading his life lately. They know the bond between you and Spencer is important to both of you, but they've also seen how it has deteriorated over time.

That night, as he steps into his apartment after work, he only wants to grab the phone and call you. But Emily's words start replaying again.

'You'll figure it out. At least you owe her that.'

Spencer opts to sit on the couch with the lights off and his head back.

He needs to fix this.

When he closes his eyes, his mind wanders to the day he met you.

-

He was a scared kid, a freshman FBI agent recruited by Jason Gideon. He put a foot in the bullpen that day, and Hotch was the first to greet him. His stern look was different from Gideon's and more intimidating for sure. He led Spencer to the conference room, where you were perched in a corner with a mug of coffee in your hands.

'This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It's her first day, too. Agent (Y/L/N), he is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid; he is joining the team as well.'

You glanced at him and rapidly stood from your spot, stretching your hand to him. He should have shaken it, but his germaphobe self kicked off.

'The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.'

After the words left his mouth, he wanted to be buried alive. You retracted your hand with an amused smile.

'I didn't know. But I guess we should skip the kiss part for now,' you said, and Spencer's cheeks burned in embarrassment. Seeing him all flustered, you quickly added. 'But It's good to know new things. I think I'll learn a lot from you, Dr. Reid.'

This time, Spencer's cheeks burned from more than embarrassment.

It might sound cliché to say that for the first time in his life, Spencer felt so comfortable with someone. You quickly became his best friend and unmatched support. People wondered why. To outsider's eyes, you both looked so different. You were more confident than him, with an extraordinary ability to listen and say the right words at the right time. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by either Hotch or Gideon, a thing he could not say about himself.

And, by far, you have been the only person there for him when Spencer has needed it the most.

He remembers having the vial in his hand. He stared at the item for a while, deciding whether to use it. It has been weeks since Hankel kidnapped him, and he stole the Dilaudid from his dead body.

He was feeling trapped and hopeless. Spencer thought he could handle it, but every day, it seemed worse than the previous one.

His feet carried him to your door that night. He knocked but didn't know why. Maybe he hoped to find some strength he didn't have.

You opened the door and glanced at him, confused. He wasn't okay, and he didn't look alright, either.

'Spencer? What are you doing here?' you asked, your voice laced with worry.

'I'm sorry I didn't call before coming.'

He didn't know how he managed to get words out of his mouth. Spencer was to a second to crumble.

'It's okay. What happened? Are you hurt?' Your eyes scanned his body for a sign of what was going on.

'I don't - I can't (Y/N). I can't do this. I need help.'

Spencer broke, sobbing at your door. You rushed to hug him; you didn't even care that you were in the middle of the hallway.

That night, Spencer confessed his sins, and he found nothing but understanding and support in you. He didn't know he deserved either of these things until he met you.

As you both got closer, he learned everything about you. In the same way that he confided his life to you, you did the same to him. And Spencer never hesitated when you needed him.

You called him sobbing that night. Your dad was suddenly admitted into the hospital due to an illness he hadn't told anyone before. You were his only close family member. Your mom left the country when your parents divorced a decade ago, and your two older siblings lived in other towns.

'Hey, I came the faster I could. What happened?' Spencer rushed into the hospital waiting room where you were. You darted your glassy eyes at him, with lips quivering.

'He isn't okay, Spencer. The doctor says he- oh God - he will not make it,' you broke, with a sob raking through you.

Spencer engulfed you in a tight embrace. You cried with your head on his chest. He would have given everything to rip off your pain and carry it himself.

You both stayed in the hospital that night. You at least could see your dad for a moment to say goodbye. At dawn the next day, he passed away.

Spencer remained with you through your grieving process and swore to be by your side and protect you for the rest of his life, no matter what.

And like that, life kept testing your bond with Spencer—failed relationships, elusive psychopaths, work injuries, friends gone, faked deaths, and so on. The BAU changed, but you both remained.

Sometimes, Spencer wondered if destiny was a real thing. Maybe with you, it was—his best friend.

He was truly happy having you in his life, but why sometimes did it feel like something was missing?

Spencer questioned his feelings about you for a long time. Was it something more than a platonic sentiment? Why was his heart filled with joy every time he saw your smile or heard your laugh? And it plugged with gloom when you were sad?

With time, Spencer was convinced he loved you but kept his mouth shut. He told himself he was over-reading the signs. And Spencer blamed his early lack of affection and inexperience in the heart's department. You undoubtedly didn't feel the way he did, and he was creating a whole imaginary world that would crush the moment the bubble popped.

People around weren't helping either. After telling Morgan how he felt about you, he kept telling Spencer that he needed to make a move.

JJ, for her part, let out her insinuations about how he should do something and the high probability of his feelings being reciprocated.

But Spencer wasn't sure, and the risk of losing you for overstepping your bond terrified him, so he said nothing.

And things could have stayed that way, but a light of hope for him opened time after.

Morgan and Hotch had left the BAU, and the team was focused on trying to catch Scratch. At the same time, Spencer was dealing with his mom's illness and her recently diagnosed Alzheimer's. As always, you were there for him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to Houston?" you asked him, sitting on his couch one night.

"No. It's okay. It will be only two days," Spencer assured you. He felt terrible for lying to you. He never did that before, but he knew you would talk some sense to him about what he was doing on his trips to Mexico.

"Will you call me if you need anything?" you insisted, and Spencer could only think how much he wanted to hug and kiss you. But he won't do that. He can't do that without telling you he loves you. Not without risking losing you due to a stupid love confession.

Spencer was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice his lack of response to your question.

"Spencer? Are you okay?"

With still a semi-hazed brain, his hands reached yours, and his eyes locked with yours. A frown of worry appeared on your face.

"Have I ever told you how grateful I am for having you in my life?"

A blush crept from your neck to your cheeks. It wasn't the first time Spencer had told you something like that, but how he looked at you that night, with that intensity, was making you weak on the knees.

"Yeah. A couple of times, if I recall correctly," you replied, trying to sound casual, but inside, you were aflame with his gaze.

"I think I should say it more. And to show it like it really is," Spencer mumbled, and you were confused. What was he trying to say?

"You mean like buying me more coffees and bagels?" you joked. You always did that when you were nervous, and Spencer knew it.

In a bold move and without letting your hands go, he scooted closer to you on the couch.

It was now or never. Spencer knew then this was his chance, and if he didn't take it, he would never do it again.

"Can - can I tell you something?" he asked, flicking his gaze between your eyes and your lips back and forth.

You noticed the gesture and were about to combust. Why was Spencer looking at your lips like that?

"Yes." Your voice above a whisper, fearing it could falter if you spoke louder.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now," he whispered back, so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. Your lips parted to say something, but no words came from them. Instead, you were the one who closed the gap between you both and kissed him.

Spencer kissed you back immediately with such urgency that you could feel the longing and desperation on his lips.

Deepening the kiss, neither you nor he wanted to stop. Fearing if you did, the moment would vanish, and you would wake up from this beautiful dream.

Maybe this was the chance you both needed to confess your feelings for each other. But fate could be cruel more than once.

In the middle of that years-making kiss, your phone rang suddenly. The infamous sound made you both jump back and return to reality.

Still dazed, you fished the device from your pocket. Emily was calling. You didn't know what to do. Should you answer your phone and cut the moment? Or ignore it and grasp Spencer's lapels to kiss him again?

Your bewildered look made Spencer decide for you.

"You should take that. Could be important," he said, voice laced with doom. He knew what was coming. You wanted to argue, but maybe he was right. Reluctantly, you slid your finger on the green bottom.

"Emily?"

The team had a new case, and it was urgent. You needed to be on the tarmac in twenty minutes.

"Can we - can we talk about this later?"

You were unsure where you were standing. Sure, you felt the electricity of that kiss; you didn't imagine it. But maybe it wasn't like you were thinking. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment. A lot of things were happening, and you both were vulnerable.

On his part, Spencer saw this as a sign. This wasn't the time or the place. He didn't feel prepared to face his true feelings at the moment.

"Sure. Uh, but now you should go; they are waiting."

The bad thing is you never talked about that again. You went with the team to Connecticut while Spencer left the following day, not to Houston like he said to you. He went to Mexico.

The next time you saw each other was with Spencer in a cell in Matamoros.

There are a lot of things Spencer regrets about that infamous trip. One of them is to lose his chance to know if he could have built something more with you. How could Spencer imagine having a relationship with you now? After he lied to you? After falling in disgrace like this? You deserved more than a broken man, incarcerated and lost. Spencer didn't want to drag you with him and his misery. He couldn't stand the idea of breaking your heart for a failed relationship, but he didn't want to lose you either. The reasonable middle ground for Spencer was keeping you like his friend, as it has been until now.

After Spencer was released from prison, neither you nor him spoke of that night. He presumed you regretted kissing him, and he was afraid to say what it meant to him.

Everything got lost after his release. Spencer became reckless and superficial. He was a different guy. But everyone dispensed him due to the traumatic events he endured. You did it, too. You had stayed and committed yourself to him in the role you knew so well: as his best friend.

And that's what Spencer saw since then: you by his side, supporting him like the good friend you were. And he thought it was okay. You were alright, and he should have to live with the idea of not knowing what it could be to love you openly.

That's how Spencer immersed himself in a shallow and meaningless life, failing his true self and becoming a person he despised but who shielded him in his vulnerability.

-

The cell phone ringtone brings Spencer back from his thoughts. He quickly pulls it out of his pants pocket, secretly hoping it's you. It's a long shot, but he wants it so badly to be real. A short-lived wish because the caller ID shows it's Gabrielle, his late conquest.

Spencer lets out a heavy sigh, and your words come back to him.

'No! It's everything! Can't you see it? It's the way you lie to your teammates and the way you do your job like it doesn't matter to you. The way you turn everything into something meaningless. The relationships you have, your job, your friends. Everything!'

Spencer feels his body stiffen. It's like he's looking at himself from the outside, and what he sees terrifies him.

That's what you've seen in him, and he understands why you've walked away from him like that. The person he has become is to blame for your pain, and Spencer feels sick. He, who swore years ago to protect you from all harm, is the one who caused this.

'Do you really believe that? Do you really believe your self-destructive behavior only affects you? I didn't think you were so selfish, Spencer.'

Selfish. It's what he's been all along. And you had to be the one to throw it in his face to realize his mistakes.

Spencer doesn't have the energy or courage to answer the phone. He knows why Gabrielle is calling, and what 24 hours ago would have been a tempting offer now feels futile and pointless.

It's meaningless because the only truly significant relationship he has wanted all along is with you, nobody else.

And possibly you are in your apartment thinking Spencer is an asshole, believing he doesn't value you, that he doesn't care about you, that he doesn't love you. And while the asshole part it's true, he does care about you, and he does love you.

It may be too overdue, but it's time for you to know, he thinks.

With a resolution Spencer didn't know he had, he stands from his couch to grab his coat and keys. He is going to reveal his secret tonight. He is going to admit his underlying love to you and stop his charade.

During the car ride, he is having a pep talk with himself, trying not to lose the bravery that made him leave the apartment.

You have to know. He has to clear things up and get you back.

Spencer keeps repeating the words until he's at your door, calling with two solid knocks.

After some rustling from inside, the door opens, revealing your unhappy face. Spencer knows he deserves all the bitterness and pettiness you have and will throw at him, and he's going to take it all.

"You didn't check the clock before coming here, did you?" is the first thing coming from your mouth.

Spencer takes in your appearance. You're in your pajamas already, but the bags under your eyes tell him you weren't sleeping, and possibly you have been tossing and turning for hours now.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late, but we need to talk."

The roll in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by him; it's like you weren't surprised by him standing at your door at 2 am.

"Spencer, if you want to talk about what happened this afternoon, I don't think-"

"Please? I know I behaved like an idiot today, but please let me explain," Spencer insists, and he really hopes you don't close the door in his face.

You contemplate your response for a second. Spencer knows you know he won't leave without talking to you, so you open the door just enough and signal him to come inside.

Spencer comes in and waits for you to close the door. The resolve with which he came is fading as his brain tries to organize his ideas and all the things he wants to say.

You gesture towards the couch, and he takes a seat. You too, but in a chair next to it.

Where to start? Spencer thinks about just blurting out everything and spilling his heart in front of you. But you are the one who starts talking.

"Why are you here?"

Spencer clears his throat. "I - I want to apologize for what I said. I hurt you, and I didn't mean to do that. I really didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," you say flatly, and he nods.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I let you down, and I feel horrible misreading the whole thing. I should have noticed."

Spencer barely blinks, trying to gauge your expression. You're difficult to read right now, and he hates it. You guys always were so good at reading each other, and he lost that ability, too.

"If you are talking about-" You seem ready to say something to not address the subject, so Spencer only blurts his question.

"Is it true? Do you love me?"

You sigh, shaking your head.

"Spencer-" You start, but Spencer doesn't budge. He needs to know and to hear it from you.

"Please, tell me," he pleads, and you let out a bitter chuckle.

"Why? It doesn't matter. It won't change where we stand right now," you convey with some treacherous tears fighting to fall. You avert his gaze.

Spencer stands and kneels in front of you.

"Please, look at me."

His index tilts up your chin so he can see your eyes. You surprisingly let him do that. "I need to know if you feel the same way I do about you," he whispers, his eyes fixated on yours. You furrow your eyebrows.

"What are you talking about?" One of his hands tenderly poses on your cheek to dry some of the tears falling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I love you. I have always loved you."

God, it feels so good to say it finally.

"W - What?" You look perplexed, and Spencer knows this is the opportunity he has to come clean with you.

"I know I didn't tell you sooner. It's long overdue, and even if I have my reasons, they don't excuse how I have treated you in the past months. But I promise things will change. I won't hide this anymore. Please, give me a chance to love you."

You seem overwhelmed with the information, so much so that you stand and start to pace in your living room. Spencer gets up as well and follows you with his eyes.

"Spencer, how- I - I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's true. You are the one for me. I love you (Y/N)."

It seems now that he's said it once, Spencer spares no effort in repeating he loves you over and over again.

You stop pacing to look at him, an accusatory look in your eyes.

"Why now?"

Spencer understands your apprehensions. Of course, after everything that had taken place in the last hours, he comes to your door proclaiming his love. Logically, you are confused and don't expect it.

"Do you remember the night we kissed? The night before I went to Mexico?" He asks, and your gaze softens at the mention of that night.

"I do. But I thought you forgot," you say, casting your eyes down.

"How could I?! I wanted to do that for a long time. I couldn't believe we were finally kissing. It was like a dream come true for me," he recognizes, shorting the distance between you both and tentatively cupping your cheeks. You let him.

"But - but after the call, you - you told me-" you stutter, recalling the details of what occurred there.

"I know. I chickened out. After Emily's call, I thought it was a sign and not the right moment, so I backed off. There is no single day I don't regret doing that." Spencer's eyes glasses over, thinking about how foolish and blind he has been all this time.

"Why you didn't tell me?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.

"Because I'm stupid. Because I thought I was protecting you. I was in jail (Y/N); what could I have offered you?"

You huff and shake your head, putting distance between you both. Spencer's arms fall to his sides.

"And after that?"

Spencer knows you're talking about the time after he was released from Milburn. He gives you an apologetic look before answering.

"I thought I was doing the same. That having you as a friend was better than not having you at all," he concedes. Maybe it's the hardest part for him to admit because, when that happened, everything started to crumble between you both.

"So that was the friendship bullshit," you sneer. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. And I'll always be sorry for doing that to you. But I promise you, if you let me, things will change."

You go silent, mulling over his words, and it's like your defenses start to turn down. You look at Spencer with a mix of emotions he can't still crack. Maybe his words are void for you right now. That's why Spencer thinks showing you what he means is better than keep talking.

He slowly approaches you without breaking eye contact. With one of his hands, Spencer tilts up your chin while he leans down. He can hear the air hitching in your throat. His heart beats faster and faster as he gets closer and closer.

You do not move a muscle, nor do you reject his touch.

When his lips make contact with yours, you both let out a sigh you were holding. Your lips begin to move in sync. Spencer is kissing you, you're kissing him back, and there is no phone ringing.

Spencer gives you everything he has, trying to express he is yours and no one else's. You are both lost in a kiss that seems increasingly urgent and desperate.

But suddenly, you push him away. It's as if a jolt of electricity has struck you, shoving you away from him.

"Please, don't. Don't -" you mewl in a broken voice. Still dazed, Spencer looks at you, baffled.

"W - What's wrong?"

"I - I can't," you mumble, running your hands through your hair and shaking your head.

"Why not?" Spencer asks, and when you keep shaking your head and saying nothing, he starts to panic. "(Y/N), please. Talk to me."

"Spencer, I'm sorry. I can't do this," you repeat—this time with a steadier voice. "This isn't going to work."

Isn't it going to work? Spencer doesn't understand why you are saying that when you both just have admitted the truth.

"But I thought you loved me?"

Spencer's voice is small, frightened. It's as if, in five seconds, he went from the top of a mountain to a free fall into the void.

You look at him for a second, and it's like a realization hits you.

"So that's the reason? You are here and saying all these things because I told you I loved you?"

The accusing, defensive tone returns to you. And Spencer doesn't know what to do.

"No! I mean, yes! I thought a lot about what you told me. And I realized my feelings for you have always been there. That's why I'm here," he defends.

You insistently rub your eyes with your palms like someone who desperately wants to wake up from a dream.

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe you."

Spencer's eyes widen. You've closed yourself completely and thrown the key out the window.

"But it's true! I can prove it. I can be a better man for you if you give me a chance. Please." Spencer is begging, tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. He will do anything to get you back at this point.

"Spencer. Listen to me. Things don't work like that, okay? You hurt me, and I'm not talking about my romantic feelings for you. You questioned my loyalty as your friend. Do you know how that made me feel?"

"I'm sorry-" he tries to explain, but you cut him off.

"It's true what I told you earlier. I chose our friendship above acting on my love for you. And it seems I did it in vain."

Spencer shakes his head. "No, no, no. Don't say that. I know I did wrong, but I can make it up to you."

Can he really?

"Spencer, you need to make it up, but to you, not to me." Spencer's head snaps up.

"What - what are you talking about?"

You let out a deep sigh. "We both know you know."

"Prison," he confirms, embarrassed of what that word implies.

"And how your life has been since then."

"I know I fucked up. I hurt you-"

If thousands of apologies are necessary, he's willing to give you all of them.

"You hurt people, Spencer! Not only me! You fooled around; you have been treating women poorly and playing with their feelings. You have lied to your friends and pushed them away. And the worst part is you have been hurting yourself with all this!"

Spencer's eyes squeeze shut. You are right. He knows that. But he is so terrified about you walking away from him that he can't see the big picture.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know you do. But I can't do this anymore. Supporting your self-destructive actions is not helping anyone."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking for a chance to show you I'm the guy who would do anything for you. Please?"

"Spencer, that's exactly my point. You must heal because of yourself, not because of me or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not-"

"Listen to yourself. You say you want a chance? But you only ask it after I poured out my heart this afternoon. How can I trust you when you have only shown me this version of you? Don't ask me to believe it."

There are a lot of things Spencer knows he has to do. He has a lot of mistakes to face and make amends for. But he fails to realize that the first amendment he needs to make is to himself.

That's what you have been trying to tell him.

"Are you saying there are no us?"

It's almost a rhetorical question at this point, but Spencer asks it anyway.

You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

"There is nothing I want more than to be in your life, but in these circumstances, I don't think it's possible. Not when you must clear your head and think about what you want first. For real."

"But I love you; please don't ask me to step away."

It's another plea. The last resource Spencer has in him.

"I'm not asking you for that. What I'm asking you is if you really love me, don't drag me with you in this process you're going through now. I can't - I don't have the strength to stay by your side in this one. I'm sorry, but I need to think of myself this time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And now, I ask you for you to leave, please. It's late," you say, walking to the entrance and opening the front door.

It's late. Those words mean so much more to Spencer now.

It's too late for a love confession when you've already ruined everything that supported it.

It's too late to try to fix the mistakes he has made with you. Even tonight, it was daring to come to your home late at night, being inconsiderate of your space and time.

There is no way he can do something now without hurting you.

Maybe time will give him a hand, and the wounds will soften. Spencer hopes that by making real changes in his life, you will see he really meant everything he has said tonight.

What Spencer doesn't know is that you won't be around to see those changes happen.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

For those who asked for a part 2 (I'm so sorry for the delay): @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402

[toournextadventure]

our little secret pt.v

Summary: Letters to you.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, mention of possible suicide (slight mention, nothing happens), mental instability, mental spiraling, religious talk (Southern Christianity) Pairing: Lorraine Day x Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this is like a little filler, just having fun trying out something different. Don't worry, there's still a giant chapter left! Also? When Lorraine signs the letters to you, she puts a little heart over the i <3

June 15th

I thought you said you’d always be waiting. But I come home to hear from your momma that you’re on a vacation with Roy? Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would have given you a proper goodbye.

It’s probably a good idea, though. Roy could definitely use the break and I’m sure you can too. I know the past few weeks have been… rough. I’m sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen. But we can talk more about things when you get back. For now, make sure you have some fun, okay?

Your momma said y’all went out West. If you could write me back and let me know where, maybe I can meet up with you. We can have a proper vacation for once. Do y’all have any real plans, or are you just traveling? I’m sure either one will do the job. You always did want to get out of town for a bit.

Our shoot went well. Max and Bobby-Lynne asked about you the whole time. It doesn't sit right with me when they're constantly checking up on you. Maybe I'm just jealous. It's probably nothing compared to how you feel. At least they mean well, I suppose. They send you their love. Maxine sent… a little more than love, but I’m not telling you about that.

By the time you get this letter, it shouldn’t be too long before you’re back home. I’ll be here waiting for you, okay? Don’t forget to send me some postcards. And if you find anything cute, don't forget to buy it for me! I'll pay you back, I promise.

I'll see you soon.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 29th

Having too much fun?

We all thought you'd both be home by now. The 4th is next week, you know. We never miss the 4th. Daddy said he would cook out this year. He's making your favourite and Beau and Huck got the good fireworks. We can take the truck out and watch the show, just you and me. RJ will be out so we can be free for a bit. That’ll be nice, right? A nice little break. So you better not miss it.

Speaking of, Beau isn’t too happy that you’re not home yet. He’s been doing a lot of pacing and mumbling a bunch of nonsense. I think he’s being a bit dramatic. He’s not happy that you left without letting him know. Said he could have told you a few places to go to be safe. I think he just misses you. We all do.

We haven’t been out to a shoot for a while. I’m glad. It hasn’t been the same since RJ proposed. Nothing has, really. Things just don’t feel the same. There’s guilt in everything I do now, I don’t know how to explain it. I just don’t feel comfortable with anything, even daily chores. Did you ever feel that guilt? The one that sits deep in your belly?

On a brighter note, Jimmy and Liz are back in town. They seem to be doing good. And no, they’re not pregnant, thank God. It’s a modern miracle. They had hoped to see you before the summer is over. Of course they will though, it’s not even July yet, the summer is still young. Besides, I know no vacation is more fun than hanging out with us, right? Even Roy would agree, I know it.

Momma is calling me to dinner now, so I’ll wrap it up. I’ll see you on the 4th, okay?

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 23rd

Hey darlin, I think it’s about time you came home. You’ve more than missed the 4th, and Lorraine ain’t too happy. It’s the first time you’ve missed a holiday, you know? It ain’t like you. I know this ain’t the happiest place for you right now, but your family is here. We’re all here.

Where’d you go anyhow? You and Roy are homebodies, y’all don’t know anybody out West. If you really wanted a vacation, you could’ve waited for us to get home. We would’ve taken you. I’m sure Lorraine would’ve been happy to go too. We could’ve had a double vacation, you know? Like we always talked about?

Huck and I won our competition the other day. Wish you had been there to cheer us on. We wiped the floor with everybody. Best team ropers in the South, just you wait. You’d best come home for the next one. I’d hate to get too popular for you to notice us, you know?

I’ll keep Lorraine calm and happy, but I really need you to get home, darlin. It’s a bit past time to be concerned. At the very least, send us a letter back. I can handle you being gone for so long if I know where you are. I know this isn’t a happy place, but we’re still worried about you. We can make it a better place again, I promise.

Just send me something back, okay? I’d appreciate it.

Love you, Beau

—---

August 12th

Hon, I really think you need to come home. Lorraine and Beau are losing their minds. No one has heard from you or Roy since you left, and your parents don’t seem worried at all. Your momma seems the slightest bit concerned, but your daddy isn’t. Everyone is just acting weird, so you need to come home.

Jim and Liz left for seminary again last week. They were mighty upset they didn’t get to see you before they left. It’s been about since Christmas since y’all were together, right? They miss you both. Y’all are family. Maybe try to write him while y’all are gone, I’ll write his address at the bottom in case you don’t remember.

If I have to listen to Beau and Lorraine ask where you are one more time, I’m going to lose my mind. You know neither one of them knows how to be patient or think logically. They have a single bad thought and run with it. I need you here to help me calm them down, because you’re fine, just taking a break from everything.

No one blames you for taking a break. After everything… it’s the least you deserve. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Lorraine asked the other night if this is her fault. I told her it wasn’t. We all know that girl loves you to the moon and back. And we all know you love her back. Things can be worked out, but you’ve got to come back home first, okay?

After all this, you had better be having the time of your life, darling. I’m going to assume as much since you’re not answering anybody. Hey, if you can’t write back, can you at least give us a number to try and call you at? Beau said he’d pay any long-distance charges, he just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He’s playing the part of a dutiful boyfriend, you know. Everyone thinks it’s romantic. I know he’s just worried about you, but it’s weird to hear everyone giving him their sympathies. Is this how you feel when everyone talks to Lorraine about RJ? Like you’re in second place in a race you hadn’t wanted to compete in? Because if so, then I think I understand you a bit. It’s… not a nice feeling.

Ah, I won’t get sentimental. We can talk more when you get home. I think I understand you a little better. That’s kinda sad, isn’t it? Took you leaving for me to get a better grip on your feelings? Well, just come home soon so we can talk. As I’ve made clear, Beau and Lorraine miss you. But I miss you too, darling. Enjoy your trip, but please come home soon safe and sound.

With love, Huck

—---

October 9th

This ain’t funny anymore, you know. It ain’t funny, and you need to get home now. You can quit ignoring all our letters, we get it. You’re hurt, you’re upset, you wanna teach us a lesson or somethin. We get it, we understand, just come home.

Lorraine is losing her gotdamn mind, and quite frankly I am too. No one’s heard a peep from you or Roy. You didn’t even like the West, you had always said it was too different. Never liked how they did their food either. So why would you even go out that way anyway?

You’re probably out drinking those fancy beers they try to peddle up there. They’re not as good as ours and you know it. Or you’re out doing those stupid hikes that you never cared for, getting more blisters on your heels because you don’t even like walks. There’s nothing good out there and you need to come back.

You should’ve left us a note before you left. That ain’t like you, you know. You always let us know where you’re going. You couldn’t even go to church camp back in the day without leaving a personalised letter for each of us. But now you just up and leave in the middle of the night? No warning? That ain’t right and you know it.

People keep asking me where you are and I don’t have any more answers. I can only say “she’s on vacation” so many times before people realise it’s a lie. And it is, isn’t it? It’s a lie. You’re not on some damn vacation. If you ran off, just let me know. I’ll leave you alone as long as I know you’re safe.

Did we make you that miserable? Was being around us so awful that you had to leave? You could’ve told us first. We could’ve come up with a plan, something that wouldn’t hurt you so bad. I don’t know what we could’ve done, but we could’ve tried something. Anything at all.

I need you to answer my letters, honey. I really need you to let me know you’re safe.

Please be safe.

Love you, Beau

—---

December 17th

You missed Halloween. And Thanksgiving. Are you going to miss Christmas too? And New Year's Eve? Am I going to have to jump into the new year without you? Please let me know if I am, because I need to be prepared. I’ve spent holiday after holiday waiting for you to come back, for you to spend it with me again. I get my hopes up every single time just for you to not be there.

RJ keeps asking me what’s wrong, and I’m honest with him. I miss you. I miss you so badly my chest aches. But he doesn’t understand. He thinks I just miss my best friend. And I do, you’ve always been my best friend. But you’re so much more than that, and I can’t explain it to him until you get back because I need someone to hold on to while you’re gone. When are you coming back?

Are you waiting for an apology? Because I’ll give you one, I’ll give you as many as you want. I’m sorry about RJ. I’m sorry about the proposal and that I didn’t say no. I’m sorry about Mr. Dylan, he never should’ve touched you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly. I’m sorry I avoided you after the proposal, I was just scared and didn’t know what to do.

I’ll say sorry for anything you want or need. Just please answer me. Please come home. I don’t want anything else for Christmas, I don’t want any other miracle, I just want you. Please come home.

I miss you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

January 24th

We searched Roy’s room and found all his guns gone.

I’m done asking, darling, you need to call us or send us a letter. Now. Now, I don’t believe Roy would do anything to you, but your daddy is on a kick about how unstable he was. How he’s still sick from the devil and all that nonsense he would always preach. I know he wouldn’t touch a hair on your head, but I really need you to answer me.

Lorraine has been losing her patience with RJ. She yelled at him the other day just because he tried to hold her hand. Told him not to touch her. It was quite the show. And it’s going to get her in trouble. She needs you, you know? You’re not the only one who has to hide.

I’m sorry, but I went through your room. It’s been long enough, your momma practically gave me the go ahead. You didn’t take any of your letters from Lorraine. Did you mean to leave them? I hope you didn’t. I hope it was an accident, and you didn’t mean to leave us behind.

Beau has a letter for you too, but he’s not done with it. I don’t know how to help him. He’s got himself convinced he should’ve done more. I don’t know what he should have done. I don’t know what he could have done differently. Did you want him to propose? The three of us could’ve moved off somewhere, you know. We could’ve made it work if it’s what you wanted.

Everyone wants you home. They need you to come home. No one is complete without you, it’s like a big part of town is missing. Stevie from the bar finally pulled me aside and asked about you last weekend. I couldn’t even give him an answer. He said he’d pray for you. Said he’d keep a shot of the good stuff saved for when you get back.

Fuck it. I miss you too. You’re one of my very best friends, hon. You’re the one who’s been with me through everything. Hell, you introduced me to Beau. You’re the only one I can truly talk to about things. I need you home too, okay? You’re part of my home, so I need you to come back.

I need you to write back.

With love, Huck

—---

January 30th

You’re an absolute bastard. You know that? You’re a fuckin bastard. A vacation? Give me a fuckin break, you didn’t go on no gotdamn vacation. Where’d you go, huh? Somewhere we’d never find you? Did Roy convince you to leave? He probably did, the prick. Ain’t no way you would’ve left on your own, you’re not stupid.

What the hell were you thinkin? Just up and leavin like it ain’t nobody’s business. Well it’s my business. It’s my fucking business and you should’ve told me. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I don’t care that we’re pretendin, I still fuckin care about you and you just fuckin left? Did I mean that little to you?

We had a pretty great thing goin, you didn’t have to leave and ruin it. I don’t care that it was a lie, we were happy. I still had Huck, and you still had Lorraine, and we were happy. You didn’t have to pack your bags and leave like a thief in the night to, what, prove a point? Well I get it now, you weren’t as happy as I thought. You could’ve told me instead of doin all of this.

You’d better answer the gotdamn letter this time. I ain’t playin around anymore. You better answer the letter and get your ass home. And if Roy is readin this, then you better get her home. You’d better have kept your gotdamn hands and your guns away, and you better get her home. Now.

Beau

—---

February 15th

Hey, momma said I should try to send you something. She said you might answer me since I’m your baby brother. Are you and Roy okay? I don’t care what Pap says, I know y’all aren’t dumb, y’all didn’t go do something stupid. Roy probably just grabbed his guns to keep you safe. He’s not crazy.

Gramma came down with something nasty. The doctors think it’s pneumonia, but we’re still waiting for tests to come back. You both should probably get back just in case it’s bad. She misses you. She prays for you both twice a day. It’s really sweet, she just wants you both safe.

Seminary has been alright. Boring. You would’ve liked it more. Heck, you would’ve been better at it. No one knows the bible quite like you, I don’t care what Pap says. If any one of us should’ve gone off to study, it should’ve been you. Maybe once he sees how bad at it I am, he’ll change his mind. Think so? Probably not.

I’m waiting to propose to Liz until you both get back. I’ve got it all planned out and everything, even bought a ring. You’d like it, I think. But I can’t get married without my big siblings, right? Don’t worry, I can be patient. Y’all just get home safe and sound, you hear?

We love you. The both of you. We’ll see you soon.

Jimmy

—---

February 18th

Your Gramma passed away today. The funeral is in two weeks. That should be more than enough time for you to get back.

We’ll see you soon, love.

With love, Huck

—---

March 4th

Your Gramma’s funeral was today. You weren’t there. Why weren’t you there? You meant the world to her. She meant the world to you. You were the one she wanted to see, and you weren’t even there to see her buried.

She would have wanted you to be here.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

April 4th

A police report came in that they found two bodies in the river a few hours away from here. The bodies are decomposed too much to make identifications. I swear to god, hon, it better not be you. I know things were hard. For the both of you. But you didn’t have to go and do that.

It better not be you.

With love, Huck

—---

May 26th

Your daddy practically declared you both dead at church this morning. I guess after almost a year, he’s tired of worrying about it. He was never a patient man. I don’t think anyone really believed him, but who’s going to argue with their preacher? No one in this town, that’s for sure. Momma and daddy said you’re probably fine, just got sick of your daddy. No one would blame you if that were the case.

After church, Mr. Dylan told your daddy you and Roy had tried to kill him the night you left. If that were true, I don’t know why he didn’t bring it up when everyone was asking where you were. Don’t know why he saved it for now, but he did. Said you had both tried to kill him in the church.

He told your daddy you were a queer. Said you were a queer and you were going to infect the town with your sin. Huck hit him. Square on the jaw, knocked him out cold. I had thought it would be Beau. I hope he gave Mr. Dylan a concussion.

Did he really find out? Because I didn’t tell anybody, I swear. We always kept things a secret. At least I think we did. No one was ever around that didn’t already know. I know none of my crew told, they wouldn’t dare. I promise I didn’t tell anyone.

Momma asked me this evening if you really were queer. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what her reaction would be. She has always loved you, I didn’t want her to think any less of you because of what Mr. Dylan said. Daddy said we shouldn’t talk about it while you’re not here. Said it wasn’t right to talk behind your back. I don’t want them to hate you.

I won’t ever let them hate you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 1st

I hate you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hate you. I hate you, and I hate Roy, and I hate this fuckin town and everyone in it.

You were supposed to be here, gotdammit. You were supposed to be here, and we were all supposed to grow old together. What the fuck were you thinkin? Don’t you know how much you’ve hurt me? Don’t you understand? We might not have been in love, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love you. I loved you, and you went and broke my heart like this?

We were all supposed to be together, you know. No matter what, remember? I thought you were my Huckleberry. Well what are you now, huh? A coward. You’re a fuckin coward. What, times get hard so you leave? You just pack your shit and leave with your crazy fuckin brother?

What were we to you? Were we just a means to an end? Nothing more than a toy for you to play with? Cause you were never that to me. You were never anything less than my best friend, the only girl I ever loved. And you just fuckin left me. Was I not good enough for you?

If that’s how you feel, then good fuckin riddance. Stay away. We don’t want you back in this town anyway. Go stay with your new fuckin friends that won’t ever fuckin know you or care about you the way we do. No one is ever gonna understand you like we do.

Don’t even bother comin back.

Beau

—---

June 2nd

Please come back. I can’t do this without you.

Beau

—---

June 4th

I broke off the engagement today. It’s all just too much. I can’t even stand looking at him anymore. Every time he looks at me makes my skin crawl. I can’t even stand being in the same room with him anymore. Each time he touches me makes me feel like a piece of my soul dies.

Did I do this to you? Did I push you to leave? If I did, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. If I had been smarter, I would’ve suggested dating Huck instead. Then none of this ever would have happened. The four of us would’ve been together and no one would have ever known. We could’ve been happy.

Were you that unhappy? I never wanted you to hurt. All I ever wanted was you. Every time I had to fake a smile with RJ, or play nice, I always thought about you. I didn’t care about him, he was just a good distraction so no one would know about us. It was stupid. I never should’ve been afraid of how I felt.

I need you to come home. I need you to come home and tell me everything will be okay. Nothing feels the same without you. Foods don’t taste good, the sun isn’t as bright, nothing is fun. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed anymore. I would rather rot away than go another day without you.

I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I’ll take everything back, I’ll tell the whole world that I love you. I’ll hold your hand at the store. I’ll sit in your lap at the bar, and pull you to dance with me. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. I just want you back. I need you back.

I love you. You’re my home. I need you here with me.

Please come back to me.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 1st

You took my heart with you, you know. No one else is ever going to have it. Please keep it safe.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

The bonfire was hot against Lorraine’s skin. Far too hot. Combined with the sweltering summer heat, it was painful. She didn’t care. Painful at least felt like something. It felt like something real, something she could focus on. Almost as real as the pile of letters in her hands, all stamped with the same thing on the front in red.

Return to sender.

“I’m sorry,” Max said softly. Her hand was surprisingly cool against Lorraine’s upper arm.

On the other side of the fire, off in the distance, she could hear Beau yelling. Drunken, incoherent rambling that no one could really understand. Huck had given up on trying to console him. After all, how could he console him about something that they couldn’t fix? What would be the point?

Another beer bottle shattered against the hard ground.

You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to be there waiting for Lorraine when she got back from filming. Then you were both going to talk, and you were going to come up with a plan to get out of the engagement, and then everyone was going to be happy. Maybe you could’ve gone out East for real, like the four of you had always talked about.

The letters in her hand felt like lead.

“Do you want us to give you a minute?” Bobby-Lynne asked. She squeezed Lorraine’s shoulders. It was comforting. Grounding.

“No,” Lorraine said softly. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

The letters were the last connection she had to you. Your daddy had quickly emptied out yours and Roy’s rooms, labeling you both as sinners and traitors. She had been lucky enough to grab your hat before he had thrown everything out. It sat comfortably on her head right at that moment.

Her last remnants of you.

No tears came as she held the letters over the fire. The flames licked the skin of her damaged fingers. She knew, logically, it should have hurt. It didn’t. Maybe, if she kept her hand there long enough, you would appear and pull her back. You would scold her for doing something dangerous, and then you could both go to bed.

That’s all she wanted. She just wanted to go to bed.

Her fingers pried themselves away from the letters, and she watched them fall onto the bonfire. One by one they caught a spark, turning a dark brown and curling around the edges before igniting. She could see the different handwriting on each page. Beau, Huck, Jimmy. Her own. All filling the pages with their thoughts, their concerns, their feelings. Things they would never dare tell each other.

She watched the fire until the very last letter burned. Your name faded away into the orange flame. You faded away into nothing, and when your name was no longer legible, Lorraine felt her own heart go with it. There was a space shaped exactly like you within her chest. No one would ever fill it, and she didn’t want them to.

You were her heart and soul. Her home.

She would never find anyone else for as long as she lived. And then, she would find you in death.

She would find you in every lifetime. No matter how long it took.

[mal3vol3nt]

I think ZKs really exaggerated Zuko and Katara’s relationship, and this is coming from a guy who actually really likes Zuko and Katara’s relationship, just not a ship (it’s not as toxic as some say, by the end of the show at least).

Isaw this one post about how Zuko and Katara have the most intimate relationship of The Gaang. How he’s the only one who supports her, understands her and validates her anger. Whereas Zuko is the only one Katara doesn’t have to look after, the only one she can depend on emotionally, the only one who she’s sees as an equal and matches her maturity.

I question this, because when did we see this in the show? Besides like 3 instances. ZKs act like Katara was never supported by Aang (or the others). I’m sure that everything they say Zuko does for Katara, Aang does for her and more. Everything Katara supposedly has in Zuko, she already has in Aang. I could list all of this, but this is already running long as it is.

What do you think?

This the full post: https://www.tumblr.com/theotterpenguin/738115696097116160/thinking-about-how-katara-is-the-only-person-zuko?source=share

not only are they exaggerating the depth of katara and zuko’s relationship, but they’re underplaying the depth of her relationship with literally everyone else. like they undermine how much all her friends mean to her by saying the guy she was on good terms with for like 4 episodes immediately became her closest companion and confidant

the only time we see zuko offer her support of any kind is during the southern raiders episode where he’s encouraging her to go kill the guy who murdered her mother. and he’s not doing it because he genuinely wants to be a supportive figure for her, but because he thinks this is what’ll get her to finally forgive him and stop treating him so coldly. and then the episode ends with him admitting that he was wrong in terms of what she needed—not violent revenge but the chance to let her anger out without compromising her morals in blind rage. other than that, we don’t see him act as a shoulder for her to lean on, and the one instance we do see him act that way, he’s bad at it and ends up realizing there are ways other than violence to move on from internalized anger

and sure you can argue that zuko still gave her the chance to confront yon rha even if she chose not to kill him like he encouraged her to, and that inandof itself is an act of emotional support, but the reality is he did that to get on her good side rather than to be a genuine friend. had she already been friendly to him, would he have ever brought up that he knows who killed kya? would he have even asked sokka about the day their mom died to get that information? in the show he only does this because he can’t fathom why katara is still mad at him when everyone else has already forgiven him. he wanted to speed up her process of forgiving him, so had she already forgiven him and they were friends, i doubt the whole “i can help you avenge your mother” convo would have ever happened because it wouldn’t have served him to do so. and in my opinion, any support that has ulterior motives and an end goal isn’t genuine support

but compare this to aang and sokka. we see these two go out of their way for her countless times throughout the three books, which makes sense considering the three of them are the ogs and went through everything together (incoming really long list lmao)

aang offers to take katara to the northern water tribe so she can learn waterbending under a master after knowing her for only a few hours at most. he also does this after she expresses her upset at being the only southern waterbender left. “katara! we’re going to find you a master!”

aang gives himself over to zuko and his fire nation crew to save katara and sokka’s village

aang completes all of bumi’s challenges to save katara and sokka

aang credits katara for haru’s sudden bravery in saving that old man. “wow you must have really inspired him”

aang and sokka willingly (and eagerly) participate in her plan to get arrested for earthbending

sokka comes up with the plan to get coal to the earthbenders so they can find motivation again, something that katara is very passionate about, thus showing his support in her goal

aang and sokka help fight the fire nation guards that are keeping the earthbenders prisoner, aiding in katara’s goal of helping them help themselves

aang weaves katara a brand new necklace after she had her mother’s stolen. this makes her smile

aang is quick to reassure katara when she begins to show signs of self-doubt at aang’s natural waterbending talent. “well you had to learn all on your own. i’m lucky enough to have a great teacher”

aang refers to katara as a waterbender, something that clearly means so much to her after she spent the whole episode insecure of her abilities

sokka steals the waterbending scroll for katara and aang to learn from

aang travels alone in search of medicine for katara and sokka, all while an entire nation is hunting him down with the intent to torture him to the brink of death, thus risking his life for their safety

sokka tackles aang after hearing katara’s cries of pain when he accidentally burns her. despite knowing and caring for aang, sokka can’t stand the thought of someone hurting katara even if unintentionally, especially with fire

aang explicitly states he will never firebend again after accidentally hurting her. he too can’t stand the thought of her in pain and hates that he was the one who hurt her (this is also him taking ownership of his mistake and punishing himself—for those of you who think he is never held accountable for his mistakes)

aang refuses to learn under pakku when he rejects katara and only lets up when katara tells him he needs to take this chance to learn waterbending

sokka is the one to suggest that aang teach katara everything pakku is teaching him, and aang loves this idea

aang cheers for her when she fights pakku. “go katara!”

the general is only able to trigger aang into the avatar state after he is made to believe that katara was buried alive, showcasing once again how much he cares about her safety

aang pushes katara out of the way of falling rocks when the aftermath of appa getting burned causes the tunnel to cave in

aang refers to katara as ‘sifu’ after she made an offhand comment about him never calling her that. this makes her smile

aang turns away from cosmic power immediately after he sees a vision of katara in danger

aang lets her go so he can unlock all his chakras and save katara from impending doom against azula, zuko, and the dai li

aang eagerly participates in katara’s plan to perform ecoterrorism and calls her a hero

aang also eagerly participates in helping her scare off the fire nation general as the painted lady. sokka participates as well because “i would never turn my back on you”

sokka has a talk with toph after she blows up at katara for her motherly-attitude (and while i definitely have issues with this episode i still think it’s important that sokka sought out this conversation to sorta defend his sister and help toph see where katara is coming from)

aang and sokka hug and comfort her when she breaks down crying after becoming a bloodbender

after knowing her for so long (his whole life in sokka’s case—he’s her fucking brother) and witnessing the kind of reaction she had to bloodbending, aang and sokka both tried talking her down from killing a man. this is a 14-year-old girl in pain. the same 14-year-old girl who put her life and freedom at risk to save earthbenders from their metal prison and sobbed when she was forced to bloodbend to save her best friend from dying again and delayed their group’s traveling to relieve a fire nation village from fire nation pollution and control, was now demanding to kill a man in cold blood. aang and sokka were supporting her full on during this episode because they knew, more than fucking anyone, that killing yon rha would only hurt her once she came down from her blind rage. and to add even more proof of their unwavering trust in her to always do the right thing not just for others but for herself, aang allowed her to take appa to confront the man. appa, aang’s lifelong companion and animal guide, his only living reminder of his culture and pacifistic people, and who aang had suffered a painful separation from. aang trusted her with appa to go on this mission. because he trusts and supports her

———

now onto the claim that zuko is more mature than everyone else and therefore matches her in maturity. i just bust out laughing LMAO

for starters, let’s not act like katara is the epitome of maturity. yea, she’s the mom friend, but she’s still a kid and acts like one. yall just refuse to acknowledge the moments where she makes mistakes as her acting her age and being human. instead yall hold these mistakes over her more aggressively than the other characters or yall pretend they don’t exist in favor of idealizing her so she fits into your “she’s so mature and is a mother figure to everyone” role (her telling sokka “then you didn’t love her like i did”, blowing up at aang for picking up waterbending so quickly, antagonizing toph out of pettiness by making fun of her blindness—“too bad you can’t see them toph!”, etc.)

zuko is a whole other story lol. that boy wouldn’t know maturity if it hit him in the face, and when you compare his behavior to other characters in the gaang it becomes all the more obvious (incoming another—shorter—list)

aang when presented with his mistake in “bato of the water tribe” -> he accepts the consequences—katara and sokka leaving him—and admits he was wrong. he doesn’t blame anyone else nor does he beg for forgiveness or try convincing katara and sokka to stay. he accepts he was wrong and lets himself sit with the consequences of his actions. from then on, we never see aang selfishly hide information from his friends again

katara when presented with her mistake in “the waterbending scroll” after yelling at aang -> she apologizes immediately and punishes herself by handing the scroll over to him, claiming she wants nothing to do with it. she recognizes the mistake and quickly accepts a self-punishment to regulate her own behavior

sokka when presented with the issues of his sexism -> he gets on his knees in front of suki and respectfully asks that she train him, using the word ‘honor’ to communicate his sincerity. he admits his faults to her at the end of the episode and his behavior is different from then on. he reflects on a part of himself, deems that he needs to change, and then makes those changes without having to be forced into doing so or guided repeatedly into making the right choices along the way. he arrives there by himself after being presented with evidence that proves his original way of thinking wrong

now compare that with zuko’s journey of unlearning his prejudiced ways

when he is shown extreme kindness by song and her mother, he repays them by stealing from them

after having been on a good-streak while living in the earth kingdom, zuko sides with azula the moment his integrity is put to the test in front of the avatar, betraying his uncle in favor of “his honor”

when iroh stops talking to him, zuko screams at him and places blame on iroh for this change in their relationship

when mai is seen talking to another guy, zuko storms over and throws that guy across a room. she, understandably, breaks up with him

when katara gives him the cold shoulder, zuko demands “what’s your problem?!”, asking how it can be that she still hates him but everyone else has forgiven him, as if he hasn’t given her—and everyone else—plenty of reason to be distrustful of him for lifetimes to come

when aang is goofing off instead of training, zuko—instead of communicating—attacks him with blasts of fire, forcing aang to retaliate

the only reason why zuko is given this extreme maturity label is because his worldview was challenged and changed. whereas the other characters in the gaang already had correct worldviews and didn’t have to go through a series-long redemption arc to become good people. they were already good people, so their mistakes and shortcomings are held to higher standards than zuko’s because his are viewed as stepping stones to a pending redemption. never mind all the times in which he backtracked and hurt more people. those times were all “necessary” for his redemption to happen and be well-done. yall can excuse all of zuko’s flawed behavior by saying “but he was redeemed! that wasn’t really his true self!” and all that bullshit, so everything he does that’s good post-redemption gives yall this delusion that he was always this good person who is capable of making mature decisions (never mind the fact that he is still incredibly immature post-redemption and still has a long way to go in terms of unlearning his prejudices by the time the show ends)

in conclusion, yall have a weird obsession with isolating katara from all her relationships with the other characters in favor of making her zuko’s one and only, and yall have deluded yourselves into thinking either one of them are incredibly mature

that’s all i gotta say ✌️

[mrmeowski]

˚✦𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭✦˚

Synopsis: Yīn Chén Jingyi's parents hired you to care for him, as they were concerned about their child. You've only been working for him for a few months, but it still feels like you're strangers. Sometimes you questioned if he even noticed your presence in the house. He is a game programmer who spends much of his time holed up in his room, drowning in his grief. During his episodes of depression, he freaks out and refuses to reason out why. It was your responsibility to keep him calm and be his shoulder to cry on. Will you be successful in your job?

CW: Depression, angst, sexual thoughts, possessiveness, slightly suggestive

Pairing/s: Depressed.M.Yandere x Caretaker.GN.Reader

Word Count: 4k

It was a damp, chilly night. The magnificent moon in the night sky gleamed brightly and nicely through the windows. Even though you had another companion in this residence, it didn't feel right—the deafening silence that filled the passageway, as well as the agonizing loneliness. Occasionally your thoughts wandered to the man trapped inside his room; 'How can he survive like this? 'and so on, but you didn't want to pass judgment.

Because the man never left his room, even for lunch and dinner, you had no idea if he even showered. You would come knocking on his door and either hand him a meal. The stairs creaked beneath your weight when you climbed to your destination. As you were ready to knock on his door and lend him his dinner, you heard him mutter something.

Though it was muffled, you managed to pick what he whispered to himself, "How can a world like this be so horrible to its inhabitants... Why must fate treat an already broken soul poorly? Have I done something to be treated this way? Is there even a God that watches over us or has He long abandoned us?" You sighed deeply as you opened the creaking door. 

He was certainly having another episode, and you didn't want it to get any worse, unlike the prior time when you were still new. The room was silent save for the shattered man's tears, and your footsteps echoed through the dreary bed chamber. 

You gazed at the dark-haired man, who was slouched in his chair with his head down and hair obscuring his pale face. On his desk were some empty and half-full anti-depressant bottles, dirty and clean clothes, and textbooks on the floor, but you said nothing about the mess. You'd offer to help him clean his room, but he always declined.

"Hey, Jingyi..." you whispered softly, and he peered up at you. His eyes were red and puffy, and seeing him in such anguish was heartbreaking. You placed his dinner in an empty area at the desk. "You know, I'm always available—you can reach out to me whenever you want to talk about something." Gradually extending your hand, you gripped his shoulder, expressing comfort and support, but he suddenly drew away.

He dislikes physical touch and is not used to it, yet he was impacted by both your gentle words and the comforting touch of your hand. However, his mentality will not allow him to be happy even for a moment.

"But isn't that your job...? To look after me?" His voice was poisonous as he gazed down at you; there was no feeling in his eyes, only a hollow hole in his soul. "The sole reason why you're staying around is because you're getting paid... None can tolerate me—all of them left since I was so much of a 'burden' that the money wasn't worth it." It was terrifying how his mind infects itself with lies, and you're not sure how to mend it that is if you can.

You were aware that before accepting the position, his parents had another caregiver. She sought to stay because it was free money. She hardly had to do anything, but the man had a reputation for getting aggressive if pushed too hard. That was what occurred to you before: he tossed books and other items at you while demanding for you to leave his room. Perhaps that is what happened to her, but you are unsure because there isn't enough information concerning her.

"Sure it is my duty to provide for your needs and that I also get paid for staying here yet I keep staying even if occasionally things become rough. I'm concerned for you and your well-being, what can wealth do if I knew I failed to assist someone in need when I knew I could've?" His face was unreadable as he glanced away.

Should you leave him be or stay by his side 'till he expresses his want to be alone? His countenance remained blank, and he sat motionless, which added to the turmoil in your mind as you considered your next move.

Following what felt like decades of drowning silence, the man in right in front of you spoke, "Thank you..." His voice was raspy and physically worn out as he pushed himself to keep going, "It's easy to become isolated in this space. In this whole household... It's a relief to have you here." He still refused to gaze directly into your eyes, preferring to concentrate on the medication on his table. "Do you think they help?" You pondered it for a moment, seeking to find the perfect words to tell him because you were reluctant to hurt him.

"I believe that they do help, yet," you started, not exactly intending to lie to him, though you were also reluctant to tell him the whole reality, "it's not a long-term fix. At times, you still need somebody to talk about your situation and experiences." You wanted him to come out of his shell along with trying other methods to assist him conquer his depression since clearly, his present way of life wasn't working out.

"Perhaps you're right..." His tone became a soft whisper, "It's just difficult to speak up..! To be completely sincere, I'm somewhat embarrassed of my emotions because I can't properly express them." He muttered monotonously, nervously fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. "I'm scared that I'll be judged, of becoming a joke to others; I'm worried that when I grow exposed to someone, they'll abandon me... deceive me. That's precisely why I became a game developer—it's the only means by which I can express how I feel without others mocking them." He eventually glanced at you, his eyes poised to cry up again, and his lips quivering. "Y-You... You won't be like them, will you? You're not simply claiming these things? Just speaking to you... takes a toll on me." A ping of sorrow swirled in your heart; in all your years caring for him, you'd never seen him this transparent.

You were glad you were making some progress since he felt at ease discussing details with you.

"I won't—I utter these words with a purpose, and that goal is to see you in a better light." Your hand moved to his cheek again, this time subconsciously.

It simply cannot help; after all, physical contact is a means of expressing your affection for someone. He flinched and stiffened at first, but then relaxed slightly.

He sighed as he commenced, "Thank you again... I'm truly very grateful." He hesitantly took your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. "You know [Name], the world that we exist in... is overrun with misery and sorrow. Humans are selfish, greedy, and narrow-minded creatures." He sighed, his hold tightening slightly from his simmering rage and disdain.

You could only nod and listen to his shattered story. He delivered a long and bitter monologue about his background and suffering, his disdain for the world, and his philosophy. An extended outburst in which he expresses all of his anguish, as well as his melancholy and depression. He believes his heart and intellect will shatter into billions of bits. He feels like he might have done something wicked if you hadn't been present.

"Humans aren't just bad—they're undoubtedly revolting! The lowest of the low. The things that we carry out to achieve our selfish ends. How we destroy one another and our planet. The deceptions we spread to destroy a person... the fact that we use those who claim to be friends like tools to seize our goals. It's vile; can't those people not see or think of the person they've played with and had fun with? It's as if the misery of others makes them feel satisfied... makes them feel dominant and in control."  He shook his head, and rage-filled tears began to stream from his eyes. "I can't change it... never." He held his gaze locked on the floor.

"Hey... pay attention to me, Jingyi." He was hesitant yet ultimately obliged. "You might not be able to alter reality, however, you can make yourself never to be like them, and you can motivate others via your games, which you said is the only way you could express yourself, right?" He nodded, understanding what you were saying. "Then you could share the message—make others see the consequences of their actions." He smiled briefly until his lips formed a line.

"Huh... I thought of that too, but I was worried they wouldn't get it or want to play it, because who would engage in something that is so—" You quickly caught him off before his mind completely corrupted itself and shut the notion off again.

"But you haven't yet attempted it yet!" He remained motionless for a moment, staring up at you through his tears.

You simply can't help but wipe it off his face with your thumb which made him embrace the warmth of your hand.

"Hmph... I am not sure. But perhaps you could be correct. You know... you have an unexpected amount of patience with me..." That comment made you chuckle, causing his brows to knit together. "Is there... anything humorous with that?" He relaxed his grip on your hand, nearly letting go.

You quickly addressed the potential uncertainty, "I-I just find you adorable! I wasn't... I didn't mean anything else." This time, he was the one laughing, pressing harder into your hand, causing you to turn red, which he probably noticed.

"I see, well... you're fairly cute too, stunning even." You swear you felt his lips brush against your palm, but you hastily ignored the possibility.

"Thank you! I... you're also quite good-looking." You grinned nervously, feeling his cheeks flush.

Even though he was still feeling low and wasn't used to connecting with individuals other than those written in code, chatting with you made him feel better than before. You got him to smile sincerely, something he hadn't done in what felt like a millennium. He chose to push additional buttons after all, you had said to try new things... So, why not try it here, with you?

He whispered under his breath, half-lidded eyelids, "I can't bear such an ovation from a deity... a divine being such as yourself, [Name]..." There was an expression engraved in his features that you couldn't quite figure out. "Do you have faith that there remains hope for finding joy within this cruel, monochrome world?" Your lips dropped a little, and he shifted the subject so swiftly that your mind couldn't thoroughly evaluate his initial statement in time.

"Of course! There will always be a possibility of anything." You opted to dismiss it again, assuming you had been hearing things or misinterpreting them.

Instead, you kept wiping away the small tears that were falling. Your hands were warm... Your touch was pleasant and soothing. It was addictive for him, and he could feel his entire being drifting off in response to your actions. He experienced something new in someone's touch... warmth. He simply felt your delicate hand on his cheek. It placed him into a trance. Almost immediately, when you first stepped foot in his freezing home, a warm aura enveloped you, and he regretted not getting closer to you.

However, there was one thing that bothered him significantly. He was merely a blemish in the world, vulnerable to being used as a toy and discarded when they became bored, whereas you were clearly something more. Why would you worry about something as pointless as him? So meaningless that even his own family had abandoned him to perish in this home, where others only treated him for money?

"[Name]... do you honestly believe a mere shattered soul such as me deserves to be handled like a person?" His silky voice was tinged with anguish; he had suffered in the past... a lack of concern for others.

His fears and sense of worthlessness were greater than you had anticipated. It was almost astounding how low he thought of himself. A simple compliment cannot only lift him. You realized he still didn't think you and your acts were sincere.

"Everybody deserves to be handled kindly... at least the majority of them do. You're among those deserving people, and if you're continuing to have doubts concerning my actions, remember that I'm doing this from the bottom of my heart." This was the final straw, he couldn't hold his emotions in and jumped at you.

This causes you two to land on the cold hardwood floor. Before you knew it, your shirt was moist with his tears as he wailed uncontrollably. The man had forgotten what it was like to feel warm towards someone... He had never felt understood or loved like this before. He spent the majority of his life isolated in his room, his only source of consolation being the characters that appeared on the screen of his computer, but this was never enough. He couldn't touch or feel the twirling figures because they were always hidden by glass. He had no hope of being with them, of feeling their warmth that could melt his cold heart.

"I... I swear to you this: I am going to do everything I can to live a life deserving of this generosity and empathy that you have shown me. Eventually, these actions you made... I will pay them back twice more. All of the emotions that you made me feel, I will give the same for you." He tightly wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"There's no need for that, you know?" He thought it was quite selfless of you to accomplish all of this and not want anything in return.

It was too good to be true; he had been waiting to wake up while lying in bed or on the floor, drowned in his own tears, with no one to comfort or help him. But minutes had gone, and he continued to lie with you on the floor. It felt fantastic like he'd finally been appreciated. He was not accustomed to being listened to, let alone cuddled without ulterior motivations. You were a breath of fresh air he had been eagerly seeking and longing for.

He allows all the tears to fall freely onto your shoulders. He felt protected, heard, and loved—he tasted heaven. Following a flood of emotions, he smiled through the tears. A stunning smile. It's a smile that says he discovered happiness despite his dark and horrible life.

"I may still be trapped in this dreary world, yet I'll never going to be alone anymore when you're at my side... perhaps you are an angel." Looking intently into your eyes, his were filled to the brim with ecstasy and affection.

You chuckled lightheartedly, finding his praise delightful, correcting him, saying "I wish I was—but it's what someone would typically do—helping the ones who are down and desperate." He wished that was true, but in the years he had graced this unfair world, he had rarely met anyone with the same mindset.

"That's what an angel would say..." he whispered, and as he buried his head more into the crook of your neck, he added, "Word for word." You smiled, smoothing a bit of his hair back; it was surprisingly soft to the touch.

You had no idea that the man's face was as blazing as the fiery gates of the terrible depths below. He clung to you like a forlorn puppy, seeking love and care after being abandoned by soulless humans. He clutched you tightly in his arms, frightened he would lose you if you didn't.

Overwhelmed by so many distinct feelings, his mind couldn't cope as they continued to pound in his head. The sheer possibility that his life could have a future... There is still some brightness in this earth... It is too much for him to take. He started crying again, but this time it was tears of excitement rather than grief. He could feel his stomach twisting and turning, and he wanted it to go on. Is that what they call feeling butterflies in your stomach? Was he now feeling love? He wasn't used to it, regardless of what it was. He accepted it with wide arms, and he will want it in the coming years.

He took a deep breath and attempted to speak, his voice shaky and hoarse, "You're the one that saved me from this never-ending suffering... An existence that solely holds misery and pain in its wake. My rescuer, my little angel of light." Closing his eyes, your heart halted as he leaned in, your lips touching his.

He kissed you passionately, wanting to show you how much his heart and soul are in your hands, as well as how much he trusts you with his life. It was his way of expressing gratitude. His quick action surprised you; you had no idea he wanted to kiss you. You could feel his hand roaming the back of your head, deepening the kiss, as his body forced you down on the floor, trapping you. His kisses had turned urgent.

You can't bring yourself to push him away, and you'd probably be lying through your teeth if you claimed you didn't like it. After what felt like ages of kissing, he eventually broke the kiss, releasing a string of saliva from both of your lips. He peered down at you as if you were his prey, and he was the hunter looking down at his prize. His unhinged expression made the hair on the back of your neck spring up, sending thrills down your spine.

His eyes raced around, savoring every part of your face before settling on your body; quick and ragged hot breaths exited his mouth. A sly smile slowly sliced his face, and he felt joyful, genuine contentment. His ambitions and aspirations had finally come true; those anime figures he had so many fantasies about having fun with could now be fulfilled with you.

The man blushed like never before, not even while watching porn. None of this resembled anything else. If he could, he'd rip your clothes right now and do as he pleased. You'll be satisfied with that, right? You said you'd do whatever to make him happy...

"I'm... I-I'm sorry I didn't..." Unfortunately, he must be patient and deal with his hardened urges for the time being.

"It's alright! Just eer... impuuulsiveness?" You paused with your remarks as if you were merely looking for excuses for his conduct. Thankfully, he accepted it and gently nodded. "Y-You know, Jingyi, a smile on your face doesn't seem so bad! It fits you rather well!" Taking your gaze away from his mad expression, you hesitantly extended your palm to his face. "You should do it more often..." His cheeks had a subtle glow that had grown stronger with your statement and soft touches.

"Do you really think of that? You flatter me, but I... wouldn't think so [Name]." He realized he was repeating himself so much that he was scared you'd grow bored of him, but his thoughts contradicted that concept; he simply couldn't get enough of your compliments. "I can't take such a compliment from you; I should have been giving it all to you..." With open ears, he listened to your words and realized he couldn't get enough of you—you had become a narcotic to him, and he was fully addicted.

"Of course I mean it! Why should I not?" He merely hummed in answer, a devious smirk on his face. It appeared that he had calmed down somewhat before you entered the room, so you proceeded, "Hey, it's getting late and you haven't had a bite. Come on, let's have dinner!" The meal that you had first placed on his table had gone cold, but that didn't matter at this point.

"Hmm... I would really love to have dinner with you." He rose and rubbed the back of his neck in shame. Lifting you, he muttered sheepishly, "S-Sorry... I can't contain myself. Were you hurt?" Throwing himself at you was immature, even animalistic, but it also felt fantastic.

You chuckled, "No, it's perfectly fine! It means you're able to talk about your tale with me." He nodded, the tiny concern in his heart gone.

But when you turned away to get his dinner, you missed his whisper, "You're my new world [Name]..."

The two of you sat down and began eating together, and you noticed Jingyi sneaking glances at you although you remained silent. You simply want to enjoy the brief time you're given with him until he falls back to his old habits. The man couldn't stop smiling as he looked at your relaxed physique; it was as if you were the most gorgeous thing he'd seen.

After your nice supper, he requested that you watch a movie, which you gladly accepted. He was starting to come out of his shell, and you're not one to say no. He even snuggled with you as though you were a plush toy, burying his face in your hair. He couldn't be happier right now. Perhaps if you both had... intercourse—or, at the very least, marry him then it will double his joy. Oh, and he'll make it certain that no one interferes with his schemes, not even you.

The lone guy was no longer in the prison he had made to safeguard his little vulnerable heart from the cruel world that sought to exploit him. It was like he had found a reason to live; you are a drug that he can't get enough of; you move him closer to heaven. He cannot go back now, and unlike narcotics, this will not harm him in the long run. His admiration for you is infinite, more so than the galaxies above.

Long before the film ended, you fell asleep in his warm embrace. In contrast, he remained watching you until he too fell into a deep slumber. Even while sleeping, his mind was calm and content. He can't believe you'd invest your time and effort in someone like him without ill intent. You were truly a miracle.

In the dark of night, as the midnight chime rang, after he had ensured you had long fallen into an unwakable sleep, he stopped pretending to be sleeping, which he nearly failed... It can't be helped when he's with someone who exudes such ease. With your body now completely his, soft fingertips traced your jawline, loving every detail of your features. His touch was gentle as if one incorrect move might break you like glass.

His gaze moved from your face to your body, where every curve and flaw was a work of art in his eyes. You were live proof that humans were created by God. He has touched and tasted you, but it does not satisfy his insatiable appetite because he has yet to go further. His teeth brushed against your soft skin as he approached your neck to take a bite.

As he kept sucking on the side of your neck, he let out a quiet groan of pleasure. It tasted so sweet, and he pondered if it could be even sweeter down below. Silly little ideas had made him feel warm and fuzzy under his trousers. Fortunately, you were sound asleep; otherwise, you would have felt it and his mounting urges, which may or may not have scared you away. He wouldn't want that, he can't imagine a life without you.

He will ensure that you never leave his side, just as he will not leave yours. Even death cannot separate the two of you. It won't hurt for him to be a little selfish, will it? After all, this fractured world has stripped him of everything. It took both his soul and body and ruined his mind, forcing him to view reality at such a young age. But he will not allow them to take you away from him. He was selfless and naive at the time, making him the ideal target for their little plaything.

You are his alone, and he will go to tremendous measures to maintain it that way. Don't even think you can get out of this when you discover his deepest and darkest desires... You accepted this position and his conditions, and you agreed to stick with him.

Masterlist»

*•.𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.•*

[judesmoonbeauty]

Black Wedding: The True Vow For A Jet-Black Bride - Harrison Gray

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. If other blogs have translated the stories before I do, I will notate their blogs. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

On a day before the wedding -

(I think I prefer this dress.)

We were at a boutique having a custom-fitting done.

While white dresses are popular, I chose a jet-black wedding dress.

(The black wedding dress means that no one else can stain it, but you.)

I remember wearing a dress of the same color for a mission once upon a time.

(At the time, I never thought I’d have a wedding.)

The delicately embroidered dress captivated my eyes as I spun around in front of the mirror.

(Beautiful….I wonder how Harry will react.)

From the time we started dating until today, there has not been a day that I have not thought about him.

(I’m sure Harry will tell me it looks good on me, but I think he’ll lie again.)

(But now, I know his true feelings.)

We went through a lot before I was able to see through his lies.

(He thought he shouldn’t be happy, but he’s changed and swore to be with me forever…..)

(What should I do……I’m going to cry even though the ceremony hasn’t even started yet.)

I felt a burning behind my eyes and looked up trying hide them-

Harrison: Kate, you finished changing?

I heard his voice through the curtains.

Kate: Yes, I’m done.

When I looked through the gap in the curtains, I saw him looking different than usual…..

Harrison: Why are you just sticking your neck out?

Kate: It’s a little embarrassing……Harry, you look great.

As I admired his unfamiliar appearance, the realization of our marriage was growing rapidly.

(To have such a wonderful man to be my husband……)

Harrison: …..I’m just as embarrassed. Let me see you in your dress.

Kate: Oh, right! Here…..

I try to open the curtain, but it’s blocked by his hand.

Kate: Harry?

Harrison: Uh….wait. I’ll turn around.

Kate: What?

Harrison: I just need to be prepared.

He turns his back on me and takes a deep breath.

Harrison: …….Okay.

As soon as he turned around, I opened the curtains and stood in front of him.

Kate: …..Harry?

Harry was unusually frozen.

He didn’t respond or even blink when I waved in his face.

Kate: ……Perhaps it doesn’t suit me?

(It didn’t suit me so much that it left him speechless…….?)

Becoming anxious, I pulled at his sleeve, and the moment I did, he suddenly hid his face.

Harrison: Sorry, I made you uneasy. That’s not it.

Kate: Then why are you hiding your face?

I tried to peek, but he turned his face away…..

Harrison: Don’t look at me.

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: …..Because I feel like I’m going to cry.

The slightest glimpse of his eyes were shining,

Harrison: It just hit me that we’re really getting married…….I can’t wait to be with you.

Harrison: I’m so happy……

As his voice trailed off, he crouched down on the spot.

The sound of sniffling echoed through the room, and seeing him for the first time, made me want to cry as well,

I crouched down and faced him.

Kate: We’re getting married, Harry.

Harrison: …..Yeah.

Kate: We’ll be together from now on.

Harrison: Yes……..

He took my hand while trembling.

Harrison: ……I never thought this day would come until I met you.

Harrison: It makes me anxious when I’m this happy.

A single drop slides down his cheek and falls onto the back of my hand as he mutters.

That makes me feel so happy and loved.

Kate: …..I also, never thought this day would come until I met you.

Kate: For the first time, I felt like wanted to be happy with someone.

A drop falls from my eye as I can no longer bear it.

Kate: I love you, Harry. Love you.

Laughing through his tears, he hugged me with all his strength.

Harrison: I love you too.

Kate: I love you more.

Harrison: Nah, I’m on my side for this one.

When I shake my shoulder in uncontrollable laughter, I can hear the same laughter in my ears.

Harrison: ……The dress. It looks great on you. I don’t want anyone else to see it.

Kate: Heh……thank you.

Harrison: I’ll be sure to escort you on the day of the ceremony.

Harrison: Just for now…….let me savor this happiness.

Sunlight pours down to bless us as we are filled with joy and love.

We will surely share a lot of happiness in the future.

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