#i love my angsty little criminals

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty smut #cod smut #141 headcanons #headcanon #drabble

[luveline]

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 

You'd like to keep it that way. 

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 

It's deep but small. A nick. 

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 

"You want to tell me, right?" 

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 

"What were you doing up?" 

"That's my business," Morgan says. 

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 

She gawps. 

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 

"Yes sir." 

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 

"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[targaryenluvs]

— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

#criminal minds x bau!reader #criminal minds x reader #suits x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #harvey specter x fem!reader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you

[futurecorps3]

Hello my love! I have heard your call for Kaz requests and I have an idea rattling around in my head!

Could you maybe do a Kaz x fem!Reader where they're in their early 20s and have been together for years and overcome Kaz's touch aversion (bc our poor boy deserves some healing 😭)? But that's not the idea, the idea is that the reader hasn't been sleeping for a few nights and ends up getting hurt because of it? Could be from fainting and hitting her head, slow reflexes on a job, etc. I trust your brilliant mind!

I can't wait to watch you grow as a writer!!!! ❤️

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐦

Masterlist<3

Summary: The lack of sleep Kaz has been warning his girl about finally has consequences. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of overwoking, lack of sleep, blood, a very angsty moody angry sad Kazzle, mentions of blood and lost of conscience. The usual crow violence! Lmk if I missed any. Word Count: 3.5K whoops Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I love the prompt, however and am very excited to work on this. Hope u like it nonnie and that last thing means the absolute world! <3

˚ · • . ° .

Now he knew he was in no position to demand her to rest. Kaz Brekker was known in his close circle for two things; killing whoever disrespected his love and always scheming. The electricity his brain consumed when plotting the next heist didn't even allow him to sleep when being tucked in with Y/N laying over his chest. But she never had the same issue before!

That's how it worked. She got mad because he wasn't sleeping and would reproach his ears off until he folded and left his papers to join her in bed. So, it was safe to say Kaz was startled when he noticed the absence of steps approaching his office. The clock read the time to be a quarter past midnight. He learned by endlessly scolding from you the hard way it was no use staying up late for a job when he had pretty much everything prepared, so he dropped everything and left to his room.

"Darling, are you-" his question was answered as he opened the door and saw her drawing on the little desk he got for her. "Hmm, hi love. It's quite early. What are you doing here?" Kaz wanted to laugh at that. Had she really lost notion of time that badly? "It's past midnight now, Y/N. What are you working on?" His shirt was discarded in some chair, along with his coat.

He was now in his dress pants and a black sleep blouse, leaning over the back of her chair to see the canvas. It was a picture of the sea, surely an image she hadn't been able to get out of her head after the quick trip you took to the docks with Wylan to ensure a better hiding spot, in case things went south on Saturday.

"I don't know if I'm getting the blues right... you know how it somehow turns gray when the day's rainy?" she wondered out loud. "Don't throw it away altogether, I know you're already thinking about it" "I'm not!" Y/N giggled, knowing fully her boyfriend could read her mind. "Fix it in the morning. Let's go to bed now, yes?" Kaz tried, tilting his head to her right side and nudging his nose a little on her cheek as she hummed in response.

It had taken a long time, many years, to reach these moments. Years of hoping she could one day have his arms draped around her waist in security, head on his chest without a care in the world, because all that really mattered was they'd be keeping each other warm with their bodies. Y/N was patient, not minding the baby-steps and Kaz's constant need to push her away because he thought she deserved better. Truth is, there was no one better for her.

Kaz had a hard time wrapping his head around this fact. Did you love him for him? A limping criminal who was too weak to even bear the thought of embracing you when tears streamed down your cheeks on a specially tough day? Why? It took convincing, long talks, difficult moments and even worse fights... but you made it.

She felt his steady heartbeat as they lay together in their silk black sheets, indulging in the beauty of it. Their breathings became one, and she swore there was no better place the saints could come up with as heaven. "Everything's ready?" "Yes, I figured I should come here with you instead of overthinking it all. I'll tell everyone the plan tomorrow and revise it again the day before" he took a deep breath, turning to face her and leaving a soft kiss on her lips.

"It's late, you don't seem tired" Kaz noted, Y/N's eyes nowhere near closing as they usually would by now. Her boyfriend, on the contrary, was starting to hide that beautiful icy green his irises held, then came a yawn to confirm his fatigue. "Rest, my love. I'm sure I'm not too far behind," she assured him, pecking his head as he lay on her chest now.

"Goodnight, Kaz".

˚ · • . ° .

It may as well have been minutes, or hours, days, for all she cared to reason. All she knew was that she couldn't sleep for the life of her. Kaz moved a lot in his sleep and after he lost hold of her, the night became a non-stop tossing and turning in their shared bed. She could hear the faint sound of carriages passing down their street, surely carrying some rich merchant who just had the night of his life betting or in one of the pleasure houses.

It had been a while since she felt this way. Pretty much every night prior Kaz offered her a permanent position on the crows after she worked with them was like this. The clock in their room, hanging on a wall distant from her, kept ticking and if it got quiet enough, she could've been able to hear the gears turning. Three in the bloody morning and Y/N had luckily gotten by far twenty minutes of sleep. The girl sighed and lay down again, looking up at the ceiling briefly before closing her eyes in hopes of resting a little more.

She didn't, not even in the days ahead. Kaz pointed out how he could feel her moving way more than usual as his a light sleeper, not blaming her whatsoever but more concerned as to what was keeping her up. Y/N didn't know either, so she figured solving it with Jesper's coffee and quick (very ineffective) naps on the couches and tables at the slat so she could at least be aware of the task at hand; the job.

The day came, and she felt very optimistic about it all. Truth is, Y/N loved dressing up with pretty dresses and daggers hidden around her thighs. She found some kind of satisfaction in keeping this knowledge to herself, the men and women throwing looks at her, completely unaware of how dangerous she happened to be. People on the streets knew her as the wild child... ruthlessly gorgeous, is what Kaz called her.

The girl had a habit of getting carried away in a fight. Too much anger and resentment for the past had to find an exit. It did when she killed, leaving a scared Jesper to deal with an even more scared Wylan who wouldn't dare look her in the eye for weeks after she kept on punching a man's face she saw was trying to kidnap a little girl right after a job years ago. Kaz helped and understood.

His revenge was calculating and took years in which she was by her side, but Y/N just couldn't help herself when it came down to the people who did unspeakable things to her. With the years, she got a hold of herself even though her nickname on the barrel stuck, adding "the crow queen" when word got around she was Brekker's girl. Now, she was still ruthless but way more cold-headed and grounded, Kaz's doing.

She wore a pink dress with embroidered roses around the floaty sleeves. Inej had a blue set of dress pants and shirt, long-sleeved as well as Nina sported a hot red strapless dress with a lot of cleavage. "We're a smoke show! Those fuckers will barely be able to keep their eyes off of us." The last one squealed, adjusting her hair "That's the point" Inej giggled, agreeing clearly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Y/N laughed at the thought and her head pained a little; Girls on those big houses did the very same thing they were doing now, with very different intentions. Those ladies wanted to find a rich husband, and they'd be set. Her friends were dressed to kill, and so was she. A little fucked up version of a cliché she, too, wished to live when she was little. "I hope these sleeves aren't an issue" she wondered, picturing them getting stuck on their knife or maybe being too tight to throw a punch.

"It's a simple job, love. There's nothing to be worried about! Also, I can bet on my life Kaz is going to be drooling over you when he sees." Nina smiled, playfully smacking her shoulder. "Even more so if you fight in that, he's going to go insane" spoke the Suli girl with a giggle "Kinky" the heartrender added, making the girlfriends break in a fit of laughter. Nina was right, Y/N knew, but decided against confirming her friend's assumptions.

Her eyes felt droopy from the obvious lack of sleep but nothing a cup of coffee couldn't fix, right? She walked down the stairs and into the makeshift kitchen they owned, heating up some. The smell filled her body with pleasant chills, and suddenly some more energy invaded her. "Wacha got there?" asked Wylan, who was quietly sitting behind her. How long had he been there? How did she not notice?

"Coffee, want some?" "Right before a job?" "Yes, I haven't been sleeping too well the last couple of days". Certain zemeni voice erupted from outside the room, exclaiming a brief "Neither have us!" that had the merchling blushing like he got some contagious disease. Y/N delivered a pat on his back, and coffee in hand she exited the room.

Kaz gathered everyone in the living room, to revise the plan once more. "...so make sure you cover that corn-" He stopped mid-sentence when Y/N came into view. Her hair looked polished, but she could be bald for all he cared. The dress complimented her figure beautifully, adjusting in the right places, which to Kaz was any place, really. Inej and Nina giggled and high fived. "Go on, love." She smiled, ready to listen attentively at his plan even though he made sure to walk her through it personally a few hours ago.

As Y/N brushed next to him, he grabbed her hand to make her stop right before she got seated. "You're stunning. Is it comfortable?" he whispered, looking at her with a certain glow in his eyes he once thought lost. "Yes, dear. Thank you" she pecked her boy's cheek and took a seat behind him. He went on with the plan, and everyone seemed pretty much ready to leave.

So they did.

˚ · • . ° .

"Darling, watch out!" Jesper exclaimed, shooting at a man behind Y/N. Things went south, they did. In the hiding spot Wylan and the girl had settled; some dreg must've ratted, they guessed. An ambush from some new-forming band trying to get known by stealing from The Crows themselves, pathetic. Inej had gotten there to help, but Y/N and Jesper insisted she went back and warned the others so to spare them from possible damage.

The wild child and Jesper were a great team, who knew a durast and an avid fighter could take down men three times their size and weight? They proved on many occasions to be useful for situations as these, so there was no problem. They'd be out of there in the blink of an eye. Around ten people had arrived at the scene, and four remained, Y/N realized as she took a kick in the gut and fell on her back, jumping back on her feet with a flip.

Jes' revolvers did the job for two others as she managed with the guy in front of her. "Come on, big guy, that can't be the best you got, aye?" she smiled wickedly, taunting the man with a daring hand despite the very much broken rib she could feel. The dress was ruined with blood she was sure wasn't hers, shreds ripped it off so largely one of her legs was now exposed.

He lunged forward, coming with a dirty blade to her throat, and she skipped it. Came again, now, aiming for her arm and she skipped it again, landing a kick on the throat that left him coughing on the ground. Y/N crouched to his level and grabbed him by the hair, sliding a knife in the same spot, careful not to cut. She noticed a tattoo on his neck, a beaver. Couldn't help but laugh. "You tell your boss not to mess around with us, or next time he won't get too lucky as to get less than half of his men in one piece. And change the tattoo, a bloody beaver? Seriously?"

The man nodded furiously, tripping on his way out of the warehouse. "A beaver? Their thing is beavers?" Jesper laughed, putting his babies back in place and making sure the painting they had stolen was still with him. "I know, couldn't pick a funnier thing" she answered, giggling. Looking around, something was odd. Yes, Y/N was not very well educated and lacked the month of college her best friend had, but she thought she counted four men remaining in this spot of the building.

The other six lay limp near the door, and there were two next to them, plus the one who ran with the message. One was missing. "Hey Jes I think we're missing one" "What do you mean? There's no one here". She stopped listening and her world went quiet when he met his yes. A lanky, tall figure could be seen next to a stack of boxes on her right, a flicking light revealing him for brief intervals of time. Ugly motherfucker carrying a gun that pointed straight at her.

The blood started gushing out of her leg before she could even react. "Too slow" she faintly heard. He wasn't stopping either; shooting at various places until one loud boom next to her made it cease. Was concrete always this cold? Oh, she was now feeling Jesper's soft suit. Warmer. "Is that wool?" Y/N asked and realized her voice sounded a little quieter than she meant. "Yes, it is doll. Open your eyes for me, okay? You can't die on me now"

She really tried. She really wanted to look at her best friends face and maybe hear him crack a joke or two. But her eyes felt droopy and her head felt heavy so she finally fell asleep.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz arrived minutes later, Wylan, Nina and Inej by his side as they all rushed to a crying Jesper, desperately trying to wake Y/N up. "S-she got shot, didn't flinch.. like she didn't even see the bastard," he hiccuped, letting his boss take his place next to a limp body as his boyfriend helped him up and hugged him tightly.

Brekker's head spun. A thousand possibilities. There was blood all over the dress, and leaking over his clothes but he couldn't give a fuck. Not her. He couldn't bare it. Y/N was a piece of heaven in that saint forsaken island, the only saint he ever believed in and the angel that saved him from himself. If he lost her, there was no coming back for him. The water rose to his nose again for a brief moment.

It hadn't happened in a while. And he chose the techniques his lover taught him. He acted. "Nina" he mumbled, taking Y/N on his arms as the grisha girl assured him she had a pulse. His legs carried him to the slat, never too far from Nina, as she was making sure her pulse didn't slow down too much. He didn't even notice the pain in his bad leg. He felt a sting on his heart, so sharp it seemed as if pieces of broken glass would poke through it at any moment.

The boy sent Inej looking for whatever idiot decided it was a good idea to try and steal from them. Only information. He'd take care of them later. The Wraith left and was out all night, returning with a lot to say the next morning. Kaz looked over at Y/N's face and the utter peace that brushed over her features scared him even more. Not now. Not like this.

"Is she going to be okay? T-there was definitely something wrong with her back there" Jesper started once the girl was on the bed and getting healed with a few healers in the dregs and Nina. Kaz was sitting, head propped up in his hands as he stared at the wall opposite from him. "She didn't move! At all! He shot her three times and looked amused while doing it". The zemeni man had to stop if he wasn't trying to reunite with the other deceased blessed people on his bloodline. Kaz's stare hardened and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Wylan, I can't lose her. She was too slow a-" "ENOUGH" Kaz stood up, looking at him with murder in his eyes. "If you were more aware of the surroundings, she would be fine. Don't you dare call her slow. This is not her fault. You should've been there" menacing gloved finger pointing to his friend. "Oh, so this is my problem now?" Jesper countered in complete disbelief. "If you don't consider your best friend's life being at critical risk a problem you're much more of a superficial, incompetent and heartless bastard than I thought." Kaz spat.

He knew this wasn't Jesper's fault, maybe it was the lack of sleep or you just weren't on your element. But he had to let it out with someone. Anyone. Pain turns into anger and screaming at your brother when it's too strong. He knew that better than anyone and couldn't care to stop himself this time. "Kaz, stop" Wylan said, and then he noticed Jesper's puffy eyes with a sigh. Then he felt his own neck starting to tickle. He was crying. Kaz Brekker didn't cry.

"Out" "But Ka-" "I SAID OUT"

And out they were. Everyone who didn't need to be there to save his girl's life. He could hear Nina struggling between wrecked sobs, fast pacing around the room and a distant sound of water running non-stop. Hours passed, and he remained in the same position, in the same chair, with the same thoughts running wild inside him.

Not you. Please. I should've been there. I'm going to kill them. Please be okay. I can't do it without her. Please.

Kaz Brekker was repeating pleas, thinking out loud to whoever was listening. Let her live. Please let her live. This is not her fault. Not to a god, neither to those saints who proved to exist so many years ago. He didn't know who he was asking for help to. But he was screaming, please don't let her go. He was leaving with her if she did.

All sound stopped, and Nina emerged from the dimly lit room, drying her cheeks. The boy stood up, looking at her with the most terrified look he ever gave someone. Fuck the facade. He was utterly afraid. "She's okay, not waking up, but she will". He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and couldn't help but throw himself into Nina's arms in search for some comfort to his wrecked sobs.

His friend received him with open arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard, as she knew that could trigger him. "I can't lose her, Nina" he whimpered before pulling away. "You're not. Not now and not soon. She's okay, Kaz. Stay with her, will you? She could be a little startled if she wakes up in an empty room"

He almost scoffed at that. What else would he do? A quiet nod was delivered, and he stepped inside to accompany her in an uncharacteristically unsettling silence. There were dirty gauzes everywhere, her dirty dress discarded in a corner and a blanket covering her figure. Kaz stopped, looking at your chest. It rose and fell in a moderate rhythm. Good.

Taking a seat once again, he held her hand and brushed a thumb over it, grateful to whoever listened. And Nina.

Sun bled through the curtains, filling it all with a pleasant orange hue Kaz knew Y/N would appreciate. Jesper came by every few hours and amends were made. He understood how badly everything hit Kaz the day before and didn't need an apology. They were all under intense pressure the day before, couldn't blame him for a such a reaction. Wylan had brought flowers and Inej made sure everything was ready for when she regained consciousness.

His crows got it handled.

A whole day and a half had gone by and he was reading beside her when she woke up. Her hand moved and he could feel the twitch in his palm, looking up frantically to find those pretty y/e/c eyes looking back at him. "Finally, got some sleep," she joked and laughed at her own joke. Kaz laughed back. "Hello" he offered, kissing her hand and never really wanting to let go "Hi". "Are you feeling okay?" the boy asked, happy to see his lover once again awake.

"It hurts a bit but I'll live" "I'm counting on that, my love". ♡

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadwo and bone netflix #crooked kingdom #freddy carter #shadow and bone season two #sab s2

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hey hey! i have a third angsty silly idea teehee (yes same person who requested the one where wife reader gets teleported to the hotel and the one with the fake dating trope-)

Im at it again with my silly ideas i can’t quite get out of my head- so picture this RIGHT before the begging of the second fic (loved it btw if i could id kiss you on the mouth)

(this interaction is important) Reader is eyeing Alastor to subconsciously make him talk to her, he does of course it goes a bit like “Alastor dear, havent seen you before?” "Just moved in, thought of making some acquaintances” and they talk, reader tells him “a charmer too? should be careful around you not to break my heart” or smth smilar idk i suck at dialogue

And then the partnership happens and theyve been at it for a while (like at least 5 years id say)- until Readers twin brother dies in a planned house fire and she goes out for revenge, before that they have a fight like “youre going to be out numbered” “its suicide” blah blah blah- and eventually reader goes out alone

She does manage to to kill the criminals but because of the cold January weather and the exhaustion of it all- reader gets hypothermia and in the frenzy thats caused by it stumbles and falls into a fence spike of an abandoned farmhouse, gets impaled right below the ribs teehee, Alastor eventually finding her and goes out to bury her properly.

readers death happens in 1925 -8 years before alastor which gibes her enough time to take over half the pentagram with her blizzard/ice powers (cuz i think theyre. cool ;)) and is also important reader has a long tail with fluff (which can turn into a heart shaped fur or have happy/angry twitches) at the end because i think its cute and because her demon form has one so it matches (think the faceless room guardians by anyaboz on IG but fully white- with a void face from which emerges a dog skull at will). the normal form being overall relatively normal aside from the long ears and black limbs that symbolize the hypothermia part of the death (Yes this is an Oc but im making it a bit more generic for everyone :>)

When alastor does die in 1933 (when he got shot visiting readers grave) he hears of this blizzard overlord and goes a bit into her territory and into a bar where he sees a somewhat familiar person teehee and they have the same first conversation over again but in hell :D and then get reunited but possibly pull out their signature weapons on each other again for old times sake 😇

also i love you so much for taking the time to write my dreams it does mean quite a lot to me and if you want i can give more ideas because i have a lot more- 😇 (im tottaly not insane and or delusional i swear-)

A/N of course?? I’m obsessed with your requests. they’re always so fun. Also as a heads up, I decided not to do this as a part to for cover up because I got an earlier request asking to do a part two for that and I try to address requests in the order I receive them. I also made some other minor changes just to make it work a little smoother. Also, please keep sending in requests, yours are always so fun.

Frostbite (Alastor X Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Murder, death, gore, arson, a little bit of angst.

Word Count: 3,949

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor sat at the bar of Mimzy's club drinking like he did every friday night. Normally the whirling dancers and loud music merely served to give him a headache, normally he ignored them and all the fans who somehow recognized him from the radio. Tonight was far from normal, tonight there was someone new.

Spinning on the dance floor, the fringe of her blood red dress spinning out from her legs. The woman was all smiles, all laughter, and she seemed never to turn down a partner. He watched her, entranced.

The woman wasn't a talented dancer, far from it in fact, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm and enjoyment. He had no intentions of doing anything other than watching her enchanting display until he made eye contact with her across the club. She blushed, turning away and quickly engaging a friend in conversation.

It was all the encouragement Alastor needed. In the dim light of the speakeasy, Alastor smiled to himself. He downed the rest of his drink and got to his feet. The crowed of dancers parted to make way for him like the red sea, waves of whispers following his path. He could hear the chatter, knew the rumors that he was a man uninterested in women, uninterested in love or romantic involvements of any type He knew that that was what everyone was speaking of as he approached the first new face the tired old place had seen in ages.

Coming to a stop behind the woman, her friend saw him first. It made sense, her back was turned to him after all, a result of her embarrassment at having been caught staring. He friend tapped her shoulder, indicating for the woman to turn around, and she spun. Alastor could feel the hem of her dress as it brushed against his leg through the fabric of his pants. His smile grew.

"Haven't seen you around here before Darling," he hummed, "new in town?"

"Just moved in, actually." the woman bashfully replied, clasping her hands behind her back and crossing one foot in front of the other.

The position it threw her body into sent Alastor's mind reeling. He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was pretty and different, new, but Alastor didn't feel things like that. At least, not normally.

"Well, I'd love to give you a tour sometime. The name is Alastor, Alastor Hartifelt."

This was the test: his name. How would she react? Was she just another one of his simpering fans, begging for his favor, for his attention, or would she do something interesting?

He held out a hand which she daintily rested her own in, a smile spreading across her face.

"Y/n L/n. I'm free tomorrow morning?"

Alastor was lucky, Saturday mornings were one of the few he had free. Gently, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Y/n felt her heart flutter inside her chest.

"Ah, a charmer." she hummed as Alastor raised his head again and she took her hand from his, "I'll have to be careful around you."

Everything had snowballed from there. The tour around the city had spiraled into dinner which had further fallen into an attempt by Alastor to take her life. He had been curious, how it would feel when the life drained from her body at the force of his hands. Instead, she had met his advances by holding her own knife to his throat.

It became a game of sorts for the two, always trying to outwit one another, one up each other, land the other six feet under. The game ended when Alastor was chasing Y/n through the woods and she had stumbled, falling to the ground. He had grinned maniacally as he had advanced on her, as she had scrambled on the ground away from him. Knife raised, her back against a tree, she had breathlessly asked him out on a date. How could he say no? Especially when he looked up and saw that she had planned this all along. There was no other way their initials could be carved into the surface of the very thing that had stopped her escape. It was perfect, she was perfect.

Five years of bliss. Five years of feathery kisses and passion. Five years of waking up to her smiling face, of washing the blood off each other's hands, of nearly wedded bliss. Then there had been the fire.

Y/n had a twin brother, a brute of a thing who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite his flaws, Y/n loved him. This time, on a January morning in 1925, he had pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Y/n was inconsolable, spent every waking moment tracking the killer. It didn't take her long to get a lead.

She was halfway out the door when Alastor found her, shoving knives into her pockets and grabbing a gun. There was a wild, unfocused look in her eyes. Alastor turned his gaze momentarily to the setting sun as it sent rays of liquid golden light bouncing off the snow.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Going out." she gruffly replied, adjusting the laces on one of her shoes.

Alastor sighed. Y/n had mentioned to him just the day before that she had an idea of who was behind the murder and it wasn't pretty. The most controversial and strongest gang in the city had, according to her research, wielded the flames. Alastor took a step forward, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder and she turned to him. Her eyes were hard and narrow, her face contorted by rage.

"Y/n, please." Alastor began, treading carefully, "Not tonight. It's awful out, and you just confirmed everything today."

"No." Y/n shook her head, "No, I can't wait to do this any longer, Al. It has already been nearly a month, I can't..."

She looked away, raising a fist to her heart, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"I can't."

"And I can't loose you." Alastor quickly replied, using his free hand to turn her face back to his.

"So come with me."

He hesitated. Y/n saw the look on his face, the doubt. She shook herself from his grip, turning back to the door.

"Alright. I'll go alone."

"Y/n," Alastor pleaded, taking another step towards her as she grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall, "it is too dangerous. I can't let you do this."

"Let me do this?" Y/n spun around, her coat in her hand and flames licking at the corners of her voice, "You can't let me do this?"

Alastor took a breath, trying desperately to keep his own anger at bay.

"There are too many of them." he tried to reason with her, "You can't do it on your own."

"So come with me!"

"I..."

Y/n scoffed, sliding her jacket onto her arms. Turning back to the door once again, she unlocked it. Her hand rested on the knob, she took a breath. Their eyes met over her shoulder.

"I'll be home later."

She swung the door open and stepped out into the night. Alastor trailed after her, the snow sinking into his socks. It was cold, a terrible night.

"Y/n, you'll die!"

"Do you truly have that little faith in me!?" she spun around, her rage radiating off of her, devouring everything in sight.

Alastor had never seen her like this before. He halted in his tracks.

"Please, I can't..." he took a deep breath, emotions had always been a struggle, "I can't loose you too."

"But I'm supposed to loose my brother and know who did it and do nothing?!" she screamed back at him.

"You will die!"

Y/n turned her back on him once again. She unlatched the gate to the garden and slipped through it, letting it fall shut behind her.

"So be it."

"Y/n!"

Alastor tried to run after her but, it was simply too cold. His limbs were numb, he stumbled.

"Y/n!" he yelled again but, she didn't turn around.

He could see her, in that red dress. She looked like she did the first time he had ever met her as she disappeared into the night. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, it felt like an omen.

Alastor stood in the cold for a few minutes longer before resigning himself to the truth of it all: Y/n was going to do what she was going to do. He just had to hope she would come back, that the damage he had done in refusing to back her up like that wouldn't be enough to have driven her away. That she was strong enough to make it out alive.

The fireplace crackled invitingly. No matter how warm and cheerful it made the room, Alastor couldn't stop the dread. He sat down on the couch before it, painfully aware of the empty spot beside him. He tried to read.

The hours ticked by, seconds dragging on for eternity. Still, Y/n was not yet home. Alastor couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't 't read, couldn't sleep, could barely sit still. He paced circles around the room as the sun rose, he called in sick to work, intent on being there should she return.

When it reached four pm, when it had been nearly twenty full hours since she had left, he decided to go out and look for her. Y/n had always been messy, always bad at putting things away. While normally it had irritated him to no end, he now found himself grateful. He swore to whatever gods were listening that if she was alright, he would never bother her about it again because right there on top of her desk were all her plans, including the exact location of the gang's hideout, the exact place she had disappeared to.

The sight that met Alastor when he reached the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was one he would never forget. Blood stained the snow red and there were bodies everywhere, both outside and within. It was clearly, Y/n's handiwork and he couldn't help but feel a tad impressed, he had underestimated her yet again. His slight smile, a result of the realization, fell as he spotted the footprints leading out of the backdoor.

He had tracked Y/n enough times to know they were hers, they couldn't be anyone else's. A trail of blood accompanied them, one foot dragging more than the other. Alastor tried to keep his head clear, his mind cool. He gave chase.

The back yard to the warehouse was large, gave the impression of going right off into the woods. Alastor soon realized that was not the case as the rusted, wrought iron fence came in to view. Y/n wouldn't have been able to see it. Judging by the way the tracks were iced over, it had been a long time since she had walked this path. In the dead of night, surrounded by trees, the fence would have come as a surprise.

As he got closer, the lump that he had assumed was a fallen branch came into more detail. Alastor's heart stopped, he rushed to her.

If only he hadn't waited, if only the minute he had felt she'd been gone too long he had gone after her. He might have been able to save her, to stop her from this cruel fate.

What had happened was obvious. The fence was iced over, slippery to the touch. Y/n had evidently tried to climb over it and lost her grip, the force of her fall being enough to ram the sharpened edge of one of the fence's defensive points right through her temple. Wrong place, wrong time.

Alastor had never cried like that before, as he sat in the snow at her feet, her body stiff from the cold. Not even when his mother had died could he ever remember feeling such a grief. It ate away at him, pooling in the center of his chest and spreading out. She had been so integral to who he was, so much a part of his life and way of being. She had been his dream, his end goal. Alastor remembered the ring, sitting heavy in the drawer of his night table. His tears redoubled.

By the time he managed to calm himself, the early winter sun had long since sunk to its bed and been replaced by the moon. Moving completely on autopilot, not considering his actions, Alastor wrenched her body from the fence. Y/n deserved a proper burial, in a place that mattered. He made her final resting place at the base of the very same tree she had told him she loved him while sitting at. His fingers traced their carved initials, grown hard with the years. There was nothing to be done.

The guilt ate away at him, festered over the years. If only he had stopped her, had gone with her, had come to her rescue. If only he had told her that he loved her one last time.

When Y/n awoke in Hell, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She had never been one to believe in the afterlife in any sort of way, let alone such a wonderful one with so many opportunities for mayhem.

The thing that had been the toughest to get used to was her new form. All the demons in Hell got them upon arrival and when she caught that first glimpse of herself in the glass of a shop window, she understood why everyone on the streets seemed to be eyeing her fearfully.

She looked like she was rotting, her fingertips and toes black from the cold she had lost herself in. It trailed up her limbs, mingling with her own natural skin color. Her hair, her eye lashes, her eyebrows even, looked perpetually frosted with snow, little particles of ice hanging delicately in them. Then there were the horns and the tail, those were by far the strangest. The horns were pure white and curving like a mountain goats, the tail was thin with a little heart shaped ball of fluff at the end. It wasn't until another demon attempted to attack her that she realized the full extent of the changes that had taken place.

Y/n had just tried to punch the man, that was all. He had made advances, she had said no. He had tried again and she had told him she was married. It wasn't entirely a lie, they had been planning on it after all. Still, the man refused to listen and so, she had resorted to brute strength. When she had pulled her fist away, it was to find the man encased in ice. That was when the anger had set in.

Y/n didn't blame Alastor, not really. She was mad at him but, in the end, he had been right. She had died. It was all so brutally unfair. The way they had left things, that final fight, weighed on her soul. She wondered if he even knew she was dead, if he just assumed she had up and left him. The guilt, the what if's of it all, were crushing.

The stronger Y/n's emotions, the more uncontrollable her power. She still attacked people for fun but, taking over half of Pentagram City with her storms had honestly been an accident. In retrospect, she would call it a happy one.

Y/n liked being respected, being feared. She liked the near worship with which the smaller, weaker demons began to treat her. She settled into her new life with surprising ease and soon, every demon and hellborn in the place knew her name: Frost.

Y/n would've liked something different, preferred something cooler but, when the people give someone a name, its hard to change it and so, she embraced the title. Stone cold, cruel, powerful and appearing at what others perceived as totally inopportune moments. She locked herself, her heart, away. She swore never to make the same mistakes again.

Alastor visited Y/n's grave at least once every year. Always on the anniversary of her death, sometimes more frequently. That was where he too had met his death. As he had stooped low to place the bouquet of flowers he had brought on the surface of the hard-packed earth, the hunter had shot him, thinking he was a deer.

His arrival in Hell had been uneventful and not all together shocking. Alastor had been raised in a Christian household and although he never truly had faith in the matter once he had been old enough to form his own opinions, he had still always assumed that if there was life after death he was going to end up in Hell. He also knew that if he had ended up down here, Y/n had too.

The search was all consuming and fruitless. Every demon he interrogated, every one he thought had the slightest spark of his love within them, never had a single clue what he was talking about. Half the city was a snow storm and before long, that half was the only part he hadn't searched. Allegedly it was the territory of some new overlord known only as Frost who had taken Hell by storm - literally - just a few years before. Alastor already had a distaste in his mouth for the overlords, a sort of hatred spawned from something close to envy. He figured that worst case scenario, he could just add this Frost character to the list over overlords he had already taken out in the year since his arrival.

The chill of the air as he stepped over the border was a cruel reminder of the truth of his life. Alastor welcomed the cold with open arms, wondered if Y/n had already been killed since arriving in Hell. He had heard of the exterminations, it wasn't too wild of an idea. The thought gnawed on his mind like a parasite, intent on seeing him dead. Alastor progressed.

The fact that in death he still felt such things as hunger had been a mystery to him. There was something poetic about it, something forlorn in the idea that hunger and touch were the only things that followed a person to their grave. He stepped into the restaurant, his stomach growling, and walked up to the bar.

"Do you have beignets?"

Alastor knew the answer before the barkeep even shook his head. He sighed, falling on to one of the stools.

"Sausage and grits."

"Coming right up."

Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, watching the world around him. Hope was running thin, anxieties and hurt taking over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much more disappointment he could take.

"Haven't seen you around before, Darling," a voice purred from behind him, sending shockwaves of pain through his chest, "new in town?"

He summoned his microphone into his hand, ready to fight. It didn't matter that the demon most likely had no idea the effect of their words, the connections they had to his own past life. All that mattered was that he felt like he was being mocked, the world was parroting his life back to him because Y/n was out of his reach and probably would be forever more. He turned to face the person, a sickening grin spread tight across his face.

The demon had a clearing around her, the crowd avoiding her at all costs and whispering to one another behind the cover of their hands. Her tail flicked back and forth, ice emanating from the place her feet hit the floor.

There was something oddly familiar about her, the cocky smirk, the confidence. Alastor got to his feet. He leered over her and the woman didn't flinch one bit.

"Who's asking?"

A threat. The smile on the smaller demon's face grew, snow beginning to pile up on the floor in the corners of the room.

"You know, it's really far too cruel of you to go around with a voice like that." she hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin, "Gets a girl's hopes up just to shatter 'em on the floor."

Alastor could feel it now, the cold nipping at his extremities. Wind picked up in the indoor space and demons began rushing out through the door as quickly as they could. Alastor stood his ground.

"Ah, so you're the one responsible for this little snow town?"

"Why yes, I am."

"You're rather cruel yourself, you know." he mused, "Using my own words against me, how did you know? Do you overlords have some way to read a person's mind? Find the center of their desire and turn it to a weapon?"

Only now did the woman's expression change. Her calm facade morphed into confusion as the winds died down.

"What do you mean?"

"'Haven't seen you around here before, Darling, new in town?'" Alastor scoffed.

Y/n's eyes widened with a sudden recognition. It only fueled Alastor's anger as he took a step forward, shadows rising from the ground at his feet.

"I-"

"Just moved in, actually." the demon cut him off, holding a hand out for him to take, palm to the floor.

Alastor looked at her, disgust etched into his features.

"How could you..." he trailed off.

Eyes flicking over her form, Alastor examined the demoness carefully. Sure, she was different. She looked half dead, frost bitten to the extreme but, there was certainly something familar.

"Who are..."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was icy to the touch, sent shivers down his spine. With a practiced grace, he leaned down and planted a feathery kiss on the back of her hand.

"Ah, a charmer." Y/n smiled as he raised his head to hers again, "I'll have to be careful around you."

"Y/n."

It wasn't a question, he knew the answer. Alastor could feel it in his bones.

"Alastor."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Alastor watched her movements in astonishment. Disbelief laid thick on his body, too heavy to allow him to move.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his ear, her breath a cold breeze.

"I... why are you sorry?" he asked, pulling her away from him.

Alastor placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing off a bit of snow that had landed there with utmost care.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have come with you, I shouldn't have said the things I said, I sh-"

"I love you."

She couldn't hold the words in anymore. Icicles of tears tinkled like glass as they fell from her cheeks and landed on the floor.

"I... I love you, Alastor. I can't... I always regretted... I..."

"Me too."

He pulled her back into his arms, this time holding her body tightly to his. The cold burned but he didn't care. The whistling of the wind outside seemed to quiet.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I am so sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

Y/n pulled back, cupping Alastor's face in her hands.

"Never again."

"Never what, my love."

"Never again will I be parted from you."

"I thought I'd never see you again." Alastor admitted, "I was beginning to lose hope."

"Me too, me too."

"Never again."

"Never again."

----

Next Part -> Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

A/N I am such a little slut for a good reunion scene.

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #fic writer #x reader fics #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #x reader requests #x reader fic #request one shot #human!alastor #human!reader #living!alastor #living!reader

[aphroditestempleimagines]

That fool

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader - 18+

Words: 3943

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, Geto is a teddy bear gojo is the mean one change my mind, sex (i promise geto is NOT a dick), fingering, bit of oral sex (fem!receiving), LOTS OF ANGST, name calling (princess) but just a bit

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. As you try to drown your sorrow, you bump into your old, now criminal, friend.

Colour: Hot, Forbidden and very angsty

His love series - part 1

Author's note: idk why i wrote this when i'm a gojo simp, i'm in class and i'm bored. Also I'm gonna attempt a mixed pov.

"Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?", the man asked.

"You must understand", Geto responded, "It is the only way to truly eradicate evil from this world"

"It is aggressive and extreme and I will not be a part of it"

The man stood up. The short glass of whiskey fell down as he bumped the table.

"You yourself stood up against the monkey who hurt your son", Geto maintained his calm composure despite the man's reaction to his proposition.

"That was...different", the man uttered behind his teeth.

Geto smiled at the guy's clenched fists. He picked himself up and threw his arm over the man's shoulder. "All I'm saying is", he said firmly, "We keep losing our people to protect a lesser species who is, not just not thankful, but oppressive and prejudiced against us". He leaned in, anger brimming from his eyes. "How is that fair?"

The man lowered his head. Geto raised his gaze for just a second, out of habit. His eyes fell on your figure, lone and ridden with sadness, as you sat at the bar at the other end of the room. His first instinct was to run away; he would have, if you had not raised your hand to order another drink, directly from the young bartender. He leaned back to his potential associate, giving him a warm smile.

"You don't have to decide right away", he told him, "As long as we both keep this meeting confidential you can think on your answer for however long you'd like"

The man's fingers had not stopped fidgeting until Geto gave that small reasurement. A smile of relief adorned his face, yet some stress still remained in his eyes as he nodded and stumbled out of the establishment.

Geto focused his sights on you; your reddened eyes, your slumped form, your unquenchable thirst for liquor. Normally, he would not dream of talking to you again, not after he left Jujutsu High. He had to put everything behind him to move on with his goal. And though he remembered that fateful day he ran away from the crudity of the sorcerers' world as one of the brightest in his life, the thought of your tears and the memory of Gojo's calls were a constant anguish to him even to this day. And there they were, those tears he had feared, even though unspilled they remained so evident behind your tired eyes.

He approached. His legs brought him to you faster than his mind could object. His heart thanked them for it, but still broke a little at the sight of your startled face.

"Fancy meeting you here princess", he pretended to smile. It was quite easy since a part of him rejoiced at the reunion, even though in such saddening circumstances.

"What...ar you doin 'ere?", you slurred your words. You had not realized how heavy your head was until you tried to lift it up. You clutched your forehead. Your heart tightened. The stool was falling backwards. Your hands reached for the counter but it was no use; you could not reach it anymore. Your back hit something hard but it was not the floor. Geto's hands were on your arms as your head rested on his kimono-clothed chest.

"I think you've had enough", he said.

"Let me go!", you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, forgetting for a second that he was the only pillar keeping you from falling. Fortunately, his hold was quite strong. He released you only after he restored the stool to its proper position.

Geto's gaze scanned the room; it was full of them monkeys. He often said there were two kinds of them: money-collecting monkeys and curse-collecting monkeys. But when faced with a lonely drunken soul there came a third kind, the most vile of them all.

"That's it", he said as the hungry gazes collected on your form, "I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live, Geto"

"Is it still at the apartment in Shinjuku?"

Your face turned red. You had gotten that house during the last year of school so it would be quicker to attend emergencies in Tokyo. He and everyone else had helped you move in and you had not moved out since then. "y...yes", you whispered.

Geto was quick to guide your hand around his waist, throwing his around your form. "Just grab on to me", he said plainly, almost in annoyance, "Tell me if you can't walk anymore".

"I can do this by myself", you objected.

"You don't have to", he said, his gaze focused on the darkness surrounding you.

You did not speak as you walked, nor did you speak as you boarded the train from Roppongi Station. He held you close as you walked through the crowded tunnels to change lines in Shinjuku. His outdated attire did not draw nearly as much attention as your hazed gaze and reddened cheeks. You covered your face with your hand and buried your nose in Geto's robes.

"We're almost there", his grip tightened reassuringly around you.

You finally reached your apartment building. Your hands fumbled around inside your purse until they gripped the keys. He helped you open the lock and soon you were in the safety and comfort of your home. Geto stood at the doorway, not moving a step in as you took out your shoes and fell onto the couch. Everything was exactly the same as it was back then. Apart from a few minor items that were replaced after the times wore them down, nothing else had changed. He had not been there since that year. That year that had been the worst of his life. He could still remember Haibara helping out to set up the table, just as he could recall your beautiful smile as you and Shoko chatted while hanging all of the paintings that decorated the walls. Both images made his heart ache. He had not felt any remorse about his decision in years, yet there he was, being pulled in two different directions like he was in those days. And all it took, was one visit.

"Why are you just standing there?", your voice disperced his thoughts. You were rubbing your eyes with your hand. "Just come in", you told him.

He almost did not. He almost ran away back to the temple he had sought refuge in. Perhaps he should have. You were safe now. The only danger to you was he himself. Yet his curiosity won him over. He took off his sandals and went to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water, and him a bottle of sake. He sat on the couch next to you as you gratefully gulped down the refreshment you craved. You left the glass on the table and fell back on the pillows of the couch. He was overcome with the temptation - no, the need - to caress your heavy head as your messy locks fell upon your face. It took all his restraint not to.

"I can't do this anymore", you said. He had not asked a question, but he guessed you were drunk enough to wallow in your own pity.

"Exorcising?", he asked.

"No", you responded, "I know you probably wanted a different answer but...it's what I know how to do. So I'll do it"

Those words poured blood in Geto's clenched fists. That was exactly what Haibara used to say. He knew Gojo was far too strong, and perhaps even far too selfish, to share the same fate as he. But you? You, Shoko, Nanami were among the people he wanted to protect from the foolishness of the life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I never thought I would want him to love me. I know he never will", you continued murmuring.

You did not have to explain. This was about Gojo. Ever since High School he knew the two of you were arranged by his clan to be married one day. Gojo took no interest in the idea back then. He thought himself far too young for it. But after all these years was he continuing the same immaturity?

He could not be mad at him. He would never truly be mad at Gojo. He often wondered if he was ever mad at him but the opposite was never going to be true. And yet your tears felt as if they were his own. Your broken heart crumbled onto his hands and he fully knew that if he was the one to hold it initially he would not had dared cause such damage.

"I know at the end of the day it does not matter", you said, "But...it feels like...he's fine by himself. I can never stand at his side and neither would he ever want me to. And I just feel so...alone"

Geto knew that feeling well. He poured himself another glass of sake and gobbled it down.

"No one would care if I disappeared"

"I would", Geto stated. The words slipped his mouth. He looked at you. You had lifted your gaze. It fell troubled onto his face. He cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His thumb brushed away your tears. "I would", he said again with even more determination. If he could not take the words back he would make sure you understood them. He would make sure you never felt the way he did back then.

You grabbed his kimono and pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate but at the same time everything you needed. He hesitated to put his hand on your waist, but he was already reciprocating the kiss. He felt your tears wet his calloused hand and he knew he was nothing more than a replacement. He did not know what you were to him exactly, what you were definitely seared onto his heart. And as he devoured your cherry lips he got even more drunk on the nectar of your kiss; he would have never guessed he could have such an alternative to the curses he forced himself to swallow.

"You're not thinking straight", he breathed against your face as you climbed on top of him.

"I know", you responded, "I simply don't care"

He held you close and kissed you again. His hands traveled up and down your form. The last notes of your perfume enveloped him. He thought of your smile, one of the few things that gave him true joy during his dark days. You both loved Satoru but Satoru was determined to prove he was better off alone. Would he hurt him if he slept with you? A part of him wanted to, wanted to get revenge for staying true to the jujutsu world, for making you cry, for everything. And a part of him could not. But he could not push you away either. He could not be the cause of more tears. He could not be the reason you did not find your smile again. And most of all, he could not cool down the feverish heat that overwhelmed him as your body pressed against his.

"Suguru...", you murmured above his lips.

That was it. He could not take it anymore. He flipped your bodies so that your back hit the couch cushions. He nibbled your neck as his hand hiked up your black dress until it was scrunched over your hips. His thumb pressed on your bud over your panties and traced small rough circles. He tried to pull the neckline of your dress down but he just could not stretch it down enough. In a swift move, he reached for the hem around your waist, pulled the dress over your head and threw it on the floor.

Your body trembled at the sudden chill. You reached for his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, your hands undoing his long black hair. His locks fell on the sides like a curtain.

He was kissing your chest. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and glided over your clit. Your hands got tangled in his hair as he pressed one of them past your lower lips.

"Always the idiot", Geto murmured as he kissed you between your breasts, "He'll never change".

Your body trembled as he dexterously thrusted his digits inside you. Your hands blindly searched for the tie of his belt. Geto used his free hand to pull open his robes until he could shake them off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. You traced the faded scar on his firm chest. He placed his hand over yours and brought your palm to his lips for a gentle kiss. He kept your hand close to his cheek, relishing its touch with closed eyes.

"Don't ever say things like that about yourself again", he said firmly, "You're the best our world has to offer"

A few tears escaped your eyes. Geto noticed and kissed them away before adding a peck on the bridge of your nose. He moved his fingers more meticulously as you climbed in ecstasy. Your heaving breath exploded against his face, his eyes blazingly observing your heated expression. The spring of the coil was being twisted more and more by the minute. He gave you a quick kiss, hiked your leg over his bare shoulder and pressed his mouth against your clit. You moaned his name out loud before you came on his fingers. A subtle smile formed on your lips, pure and simple. Suguru could relish that smile for all eternity.

He climbed back up until he towered over your body. Your arms wrapped around his torso as he kissed you deeply. You were so beautiful; even more than he could remember.

"Suguru", your name left his lips again.

"I never realised how much I missed hearing you say my name"

Your hands reached for his belt again. "I want you"

"Not as much as I do", he aided you in undoing it. He threw his robes next to your dress. He gave you small kisses as his dressed length pressed on your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts".

You fisted his hair as he entered you. You did not stop him until he had bottomed out. He continued kissing you reassuringly, one hand massaging your tailbone, the other holding your leg around his hips. He was kissing your neck now, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Don't be nice to me", you told him, "I don't want you to be nice to me"

He laughed. "Yes, you do", he lightly nipped at your collarbone, "And you always get what you want"

Soon the room was filled with your sounds of pleasure as Suguru's hips met yours in a passionate dance, tuned to an intoxicated melody. His cheeks had grown hot; yours had too.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed. There was a battle going on in his mind. He had loved a lot of people. He kept a list in his mind of those he wanted to protect, those he wanted for sure to be in his new world. You, Gojo, Nanami, Shoko...He loved all of them equally; or almost. You and Gojo were always a little higher on the ranks. But this? This was a new you he was seeing for the very first time and he was intoxicated. All the have-nots and could have been in his head were suddenly turning into a plausible reality. If only he could keep you with him. If only he could have you by his side, every day he woke up. He had chosen to leave so he would not burden any of his friends with the cruelty of his mission, but the prospect of the happiness he would gain by just gazing upon your face every day was too tempting to pass.

Yet there was another thought trying to force its way into his mind. 'If I could become Satoru Gojo for a moment, the dream would be achievable'. He was hurting him by being with you. He had taken one of the many things bestowed upon that man that he ungratefully scorned. And as much as it pained him to cause Gojo anguish, a part of him thought of it as well-deserved for his foolishness. Maybe he would finally mature and appreciate everything he had been given.

"Suguru!", your moan pulled him back into reality.

He held your sweated cheek. "Come for me, princess", he said and lowered his voice and lips close to your ear, "If you want to use your legs tomorrow that is"

Your hands gripped his hair again. Your walls clenched around his length. He grunted as he felt them squeeze him. "Two can play this game, princess", his hand rubbed fiercely on your bud.

Your breathing turned irregular. Your vision turned hazy. All there was was him and nothing else. Your thoughts were overcome with the knot in your stomach, threatening to break any minute.

Your head fell back as you came with a loud moan of his name. He followed soon after. You could feel his tired breath explode on the skin of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder. You brushed his hair with your fingers. He planted soft kisses under your hairline. He sat up for a moment to put on his boxers, burning the condom into nothingness with a spell. He pulled your tired body against his as he lay on the couch, his arms wrapping around you.

"Y/n", he called your name softly.

"Hm?", your ear was pressed on his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He cupped your cheek to guide your gaze to him. He wore a genuine smile for the first time in years as he caressed your face. You could not help but return it. He planted a kiss on your forehead, his hand diving under your locks.

"No one deserves your tears", his low voice whispered next to your ear, "But if you have to spill them, let them be mine"

He picked up his robe and threw it over your bodies like a blanket as you drifted off to sleep.

*****************************************************************************

When morning came, Geto woke up alone. Y/n's warmth still lingered over his body as he blindly searched for her with his sleepy eyes. His ears finally focused on the sound of running water. He smiled. They had not taken a shower last night so it was only logical she would do it first thing in the morning. He sat up on the couch, pulling his robe properly around his body. His gaze ran around the small apartment. Memories of your life were carefully placed all over the walls, the counters, the tables. He walked up to a dresser at the back of the room, probably storing all the linen needed in the living room-dining room fusion. Two photographs were placed on it; one with your class and Nanami's class, happily drinking together at Shoko's birthday party. The other one was with you and Gojo; smiles much subtler as you posed for an engagement picture.

Gojo's glasses were different than the ones Geto remembered. It must have been a more recent picture. He smiled as he admired your beautiful face, all dolled up for the photo. Then his eyes fell on Satoru again. His face turned serious. He missed him, that was sure. But he had grown accustomed to hating him, knowing he was probably hated back. He had grown accustomed to blaming him, knowing he was being blamed back.

He looked more carefully at his glasses. He could just see the shiny blue of his eyes underneath. His own eyes opened wide. Gojo's gaze was on you. The smile he wore was not fake at all; Geto would have recognized it. It was clear as day he had feelings for you. Yet you were not lying about your broken heart either. His eyes watered. He had thought he would be happy hurting Gojo's pride, but his heart was too much. He left the picture on the dresser and walked to your bedroom. He knocked on the door. Your voice called him in. One look at you and he lost all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to stay with you. But doing that would hurt Gojo. And if he chose to leave and spare Gojo from further pain, he would strike your heart at a moment when it was already bleeding.

"Last night", you drew his attention, "It was a mistake"

Those words were a knife through his chest. You kept your back turned on him as you lazily dried your hair with a towel.

"I wasn't thinking straight"

"You said you didn't care"

"I was wrong", you told him.

Suguru walked towards you. "You were not. I...I missed you"

"Don't lie to me. You just wanted to get back at Gojo for once", you spat. You cursed your lips the moment the words left your mouth. Suguru remained silent. "You won't even deny it?", you asked, "Geto"

"Suguru", he corrected. You sat there in silece for a moment. "Y/n", he finally spoke, "Look at me"

You shook your head.

"Please", he said again, "Look at me"

You slowly turned to face him. He had known he had guessed it right. The tears were back to flowing from your eyes, and this time he was the cause. He had made the wrong choice. All he had wanted was to bring you to smile.

"What brought this on?", he asked calmly.

His face was as it had been in your school days; calm, composed...kind. You could not help but answer him, even though it would be an unpleasant thing to do so. You reached for the small radio next to your bed and turned it back on to the station you had been listening to. You waited for a while before the newsman returned after the break and continued with more details on the newest strange mass attack on humans that took place in Tokyo the night before.

"That was your friends, right?", you said, your lips trembling even though you knew the answer.

"Yes", he said, "There was a cult forming with knowledge of our kind. I had to eliminate them"

"Do you hear yourself?", you cried as you shot up on your feet, "What did these people even do?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they most likely would have done"

"Get out", you spat. Your voice cracked as you repeated those words again and again.

Suguru did not move. "I will", he said, "But I want you to know, I've never said a single lie to you. And I never will"

You were covering your face with your hands as you cried and so you neither heard nor saw him approach. You startled as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, "It was never my intention to cause you pain".

"That hardly matters"

"I know", he said. "I know", he repeated it one more time as he touched his forehead to yours.

He turned to leave but stopped right before your door. "If you see Satoru", he said, "Slap him for me. Then kiss him for you".

"What?"

"He's so immature, you need to slap him back to his senses. Or he'll be too late again"

And with that, Suguru returned to the shadows of Tokyo, far away from the light he had found in the small apartment with you.

#geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jjk angst #geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut

[jflemings]

PROMPT 18 JFLEM

— out of the woods

prompt: 18 “i’m setting you free” from this post

a/n: i had this fic almost done and then tumblr deleted all of it and i waited too long to re write it so here’s a way more angsty version 🙂 also y’all can thank @pixiesfz for the angst. its jail time for the absolutely CRIMINAL jess angst that was posted xx

“you’re being ridiculous!”

“i’m being ridiculous? jesus christ jessie, you never even brought up the fact that you were thinking about moving to another fucking continent until you accepted the offer!” you exclaim loudly, anger simmering in your chest as you follow her into her bedroom.

you two had been going at it for the past hour and you were quickly running out of patience. she had brought up the topic of leaving chelsea a little while ago but you didn’t anticipate her moving to a whole different league, especially when the two of you seemed to be settling down.

“i didn’t think it would matter!” she says defensively, turning on her heel to face you “you were all for it when i brought it up before”

you scoff loudly “yeah, all for you moving to a different club in the wsl! jess how could you not bring this up with me?”

the canadian turns her back on you once again as she opens up her closet to grab some shirts she knows she won’t be wearing. she practically rips them off their hangers and carelessly throws them onto her bed “i didn’t think i needed to. it’s my future”

you’re taken aback by her justification. she’s right, it is her future, but considering the conversations the two of you have been having since the world cup you had assumed that you would be included in it, or at the very least spoken to about it.

the two of you had talked about moving in together and even gone as far as looking at places that were within your budget, so for her to suddenly drop the news that she was moving to the nwsl was coming from nowhere. or so you thought.

“how long had you been thinking about this?” you ask sternly

the midfielder sighs and throws another shirt onto her bed “since november”

your stomach drops and betrayal quickly puts out the flame of anger flicking within you. your brow furrows and your hands drop in defeat “november?” you question quietly “i was looking at places for us to live and you were thinking about leaving?!”

“it’s the best thing for my career!” she continues to argue as she turns around with her arms thrown out wide “it’s not a personal thing, y/n”

“what about the best thing for us” you ask bitterly “what about our future” your words are coated in venom as you speak to her, the hope of this turning into a civil conversation being thrown out the window.

she looks at you with a blank look on her face, the silence suddenly deafening you as the two of you stand just staring at eachother. the longer she takes to answer, the more sick you feel. you’ve always encouraged jessie to put herself first, always told her to follow her heart, but it seems like you had been stupid to assume that whatever road she took would always lead back to you. in your head, the future of your relationship was well and truely concrete: you’d move in together, get married, maybe have a kid or two and end up loving eachother for the rest of your time on earth.

jessie shuts her eyes tightly just as you feel your own well up with tears.

you had been wrong and she was proving it to you right now.

“right” you laugh bitterly, digging around in your purse for a polaroid photo that you carried everywhere. it was of the two of you sharing a drunk kiss at zećira’s for her birthday last year. sam had walked up to you with a polaroid camera mid-kiss and captured the alcohol fueled pda with a loud laugh. jessie had pulled away from you in a daze, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over without a care in the world that she had been caught on film in what she would call a compromising position.

you threw the photo onto her bed on top of the numerous shirts “since you’re packing up your life and throwing things away that you aren’t going to be needing you can take that. i don’t want it anymore” you say quietly, malice and hurt present in your tone.

jessie’s eyes widen as you turn on your heel “what are you doing”

“i’m setting you free” you say as you approach her bedroom door for the last time “hope portland has everything that london can’t give you”

#pegs writes #pegs woso #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming blurb #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine

[prentisssgf]

| sad, beautiful, tragic

| criminal minds

| emily x reader

| fluff but little bit angsty (nightmares, Ian Doyle mentions, slight annoyed Emily)

| 1586 words

You joined the team around 7 years after Emily Prentiss did, there was something about her that drew you to her, you couldn't really explain it but one day it clicked, you liked Emily.

"I think you should go for it, you know" JJ stopped you one day.

"I actually don't know what you're talking about" you shrugged as you stirred your coffee.

"Please you've been eyeing up Prentiss all day, you like her" Morgan teased.

"Morgan, I do not like her" you defended "she is my colleague" you huffed.

"It's that red tank top" he said facing JJ, you looked at JJ, she shrugged and nodded.

"Okay fine, I like Emily and that stupid red tank top" you sighed, finally giving in.

"Congratulations Y/N, you are officially the last to know" JJ and Morgan both laughed .

"I think you should just talk to her, she may feel the same way" Derek winked.

"You two owe me a drink" you sighed, walking up to Emily's office.

You walked over to her door, you turned around to see JJ nodding and Derek giving you a thumbs up, Spencer joining them with a confused look.

You knocked the door and you heard a gentle "come in" on the other side.

"Hi, it's me" you smiled "I was wondering if you were able to talk, just for a few minutes" you smiled as you closed the door, you looked to see Emily taking her glasses off and placing them down on several laid out papers scattered around her office and desk "but if now is a bad time-" you cut yourself off by walking out only to be met with JJ and Spencer frantically shaking their heads while mouthing 'no' and 'go back in' with hands sticking out to signal that, you took a deep breath and you walked into her office.

"Is everything okay agent Y/L/N?" Emily raised one eyebrow as she sat crossed legged at her desk.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean-" you rambled "I mean, argh screw it, I like you Emily, and I have for a while and I know you don't like me back and it's fine but I thought that you deserve to know and-" you rambled.

"Woah woah Y/N Y/N Y/N" Emily hushed you "who said I didn't like you back?" she smirked.

"I- you do?" you sat there with your mouth wide open, shocked to hear those words come from Emily Prentiss' mouth.

"Y/N I've been crazy about you since the minute you walked in here" Emily laughed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you shook your head as you laughed.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to admit that you like me back" Emily smirked again.

You couldn't help but smile and you walked around her desk to kiss her lips slightly, when you pulled away she deepened the kiss "come over tonight" she mumbled into the kiss, you nodded as your foreheads touched.

From that night on you two become inseparable, you had been together for about 4 months now and you were loving it, the one thing that you couldn't work out though was Emily's past, she was all together a private person and you tremendously respected that, you figured that if something was important to her that she would tell you sooner or later, she always told you them anyway, she never kept secrets from you, she just didn't like people to judge her from her past, you did the same.

One night changed everything, you did your routine and everything was fine, Emily was sleeping on your chest, your hand around her back and tucked in your covers, you were a very light sleeper so when she started shaking and sobbing in her sleep and shouting at someone called Ian Doyle to stop you had to wake her up.

"Hey Emily" you shook her "Emily" you said more sternly "Emily" you shouted again until she woke.

"What happened?" she pushed herself up by pushing her hands down on your stomach.

"You had a nightmare and I had to wake you it was about someone called Ian D-" you spoke as both of you were now standing at the edge of your bed.

"Shut up, stop it" Emily snapped at you.

"Huh?" you furrowed your brows, Emily had never snapped at you like that "What was that about?"

"Just fucking drop it" she sighed running her hands through her hair.

"Emily-" you sighed softly

"Don't Emily me" she scoffed loudly.

"What the fuck is up with you, tell me right now who Ian Doyle is" you demanded.

You watched Emily's eyes go from anger to fear in a split second, her eyes blinking repeatedly as she was trying not to cry.

You sat her down on the edge of the bed and gripped her hands in yours as she recounted everything about Ian Doyle, she told you everything about him, from her undercover days, to the year before when Doyle "killed" her and she had to move to Paris for seven months, all whilst sobbing and clutching to you.

"Em" you sighed softly, stroking your hands gently through her raven hair "Emily" you sighed again as you kissed the top of her head "can you look at me please?" you said sliding off the bed and balancing on your knees as you faced her, you took her hands in yours again, you let one hand go to lift her chin to look at you "Emily Prentiss, you are the strongest person I know, you are the most beautiful and lovely and kind person I have ever dated and I couldn't be more thankful for you, it might be too early to say but I love you Em, I'm so happy and excited to wake up to you every morning, I love making you smile and making you coffee, you are everything to me Emily" you smiled, now sliding your hand down her cheeks, not missing her tears to wipe them away "but Emily you don't have to be so strong all the time" you sighed "Emily I love you but you don't have to keep your walls up all the time, we can smash the wall down or take it away brick by brick but whatever you chose to do I will be here, by your side, I promise Emily, I am not leaving your side" You stood up, now leaning down and balancing your forehead on Emily's.

"Y/N I-" she sobbed "I want to start opening up to you but it's so hard" you nodded as she explained how when she was younger her mother saw crying and fear as a negative emotion and she learned that it was bad and that it was frowned upon, you pretty much knew that Emily didn't speak to her mother anymore, you never asked why, didn't see the need to pry and you figured that she would tell you when she would feel comfortable to.

"I think I was so scared that because I'm having these nightmares and there's negative thoughts that you would see me different- different to the strong and independent Emily that you know" she sniffed.

"Emily did you say 'having'? how long have you been having nightmares for?" you smiled as you dragged her into bed.

"Couple of weeks, 3 maybe" Emily shrugged, now the fact that she would be always in her office, uninterested in dinners and nights out with the BAU made total sense.

"Oh honey" you sighed, opening your arms out for you to hold her in "and Em?" you questioned.

"Yeah?" she looked up and whispered softly.

"I don't see you any different by the way" you smiled at her, your hand coming up into her hair, stroking it "If it's any consolation, I think you showing emotions - your anxiety, your negative thoughts-it makes you even more strong" you smiled.

"Really?" she looked up at you with big brown sad eyes.

"Hmm" you nodded in agreement.

"The fact that you even told me you're having these nightmares, that's a really strong person" you smiled "right there" you pocked a finger into her chest, making her smile lightly for the first time that night "do you wanna talk some more or sleep?" you smiled.

"Sleep" she smiled "If that's okay"

"More than okay" you kissed her once more before waiting for her to fall asleep before you doing the same shortly.

☆

"Good morning" you smiled as Emily walked into the kitchen "How did you sleep?"

"Good until my girlfriend wasn't in my bed this morning" she pouted making you slightly laugh.

"Here" you smiled as you pushed her coffee cup to the edge of the counter "lots of milk and splenda"

"I love you" she smiled as she circled the counter to kiss you on the temple and sit next to you "I didn't say it yesterday when you said it" she smiled sadly.

"Hey hey no it's okay" you smiled "I know we both mean it" Emily sighed loudly, making you smile a little bit.

"Thankful for you, you know" Emily playfully shoved your arm with hers before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"I know and I'm thankful for you too" you smiled down at her "Emily I'm always gonna be grateful for you" you kissed her temple once more and leaned your cheek on her head, taking in the calmness of what you found yourself in.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily x you #emily x reader #paget brewster

[pandorasflora]

What was I made for? - Chapter 1

Summary: When Neytiri ends up mating with Tsu'tey before the war, it leaves Jake heartbroken. Unable to handle the new role of Olo'eyktan, Mo'at arranges (forces) Jake to mate with her youngest daughter...You.

Pairing: Jake Sully x Neytiri's sister!Reader

Warnings: forced/ arranged marriage, one-sided enemies to lovers, Jake is kinda mean, reader is a softy, reader is left feeling like a second choice, she tries to act/ look like neytiri, angsty but it will be fluffy cuz i'm not a criminal, let me know if there's anymore.

What was I made for? Masterlist Main Masterlist

“Mama-You cannot ask me of this!” You cry, throwing your arms out and begging for your mother to reconsider. 

“You will do great as Tsahik, it is Eywa’s will.” She states calmly.

“He will not love me, Mother. He loves Neytiri…” You murmur, looking down at your feet.

“He will grow to love you. That is how me and your father began.”

“He will not see me.” You whimper, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Do you see him?” Nothing is said for a few moments…Is it really that obvious?

“I am giving up my happiness to serve him…Why must I mate in a loveless union?”

“Our clan is in desperate need for a new Tsahik and I am not getting any younger. Believe in yourself, daughter.” She takes your hand in hers and rubs it soothingly. She understands your worries, she was in your place years ago.

“But what about me? What about my feelings?” You plead

“You will begin to learn that leading a clan has its sacrifices…” She pulls you into a hug, tucking your head under her chin, rubbing her hands up and down your back softly.

“Jake Sully, this is my daughter-”

“Is this going to take long? I have a meeting.” He and Mo’at both know there isn’t a meeting but you don’t. He’s willing to take that risk. She pauses. 

“I was hoping you two would get to know each other, you are to be mated in 3 days.”

Jake curses under his breath, rubbing his face in frustration. 

“Later, alright?” He mutters, already turning to leave.

“I can come to your kelku later?...If you would like-” You start. You’re willing to give this a try and make it work. 

“M’busy!” 

You watch in silence as he walks the way to Neytiri’s home.

After spending the day preparing for your mating ceremony, you decide to drop off some food for Jake, like a little courting gift, as well as a bracelet. You’ve never done this before and it makes you feel all giddy and gooey inside. 

You walk the way to his home before knocking on the side of the door. No answer…You peak your head through the flap and see the kelku is empty, oh well. He’s just not home.

You decide to walk back to your own home that you share with your mother and that's when you see them. Jake and Neytiri giggling a little too close.

You have no right to be jealous. You only found out you were to be his mate this morning, and Neytiri doesn’t even like Jake that way. She grew to love Tsu’tey and they are a beautiful pair, soulmates even. So why do you feel like this? 

Maybe because you’ve had a silly little crush on the tawtute ever since he was ‘welcomed’ into your clan. His human features were so endearing and he was so pretty, you often found yourself sneaking glances when he was around. 

It was heartbreaking to watch him fall more and more in love with your sister, the perfect child. You could never hate her, she’s your big sister Neytiri, constantly giving hugs and words of wisdom but still…It didn’t make it hurt any less…Especially if your love life has been non-existent since the day you were born, no boys ever taking interest in you. 

You decide to walk up to them both, you miss your sister and you can give Jake your gift. You bring your fingers up to your forehead before bringing them down, bowing slightly. 

“Kaltxi, Ma’Tiri, Ma’Jake…”

Neytiri motions for you to sit next to her. “How has your day been?”

“It was…Good. I have been busy with preparations.” You say, she hums. 

You fall into an awkward silence, Jake fidgeting with nerves. He eventually caves and gets up to leave.

“Wait! Jake, I have something…For you.” You quickly jump up and thrust the food and bracelet into his hands, smiling slightly which looks more like a grimace. 

“Oh…Uh, thanks?” He furrs his eyebrows before turning away and leaving. You sigh heavily before sitting back down with Neytiri…There was a couple seconds of silence before she speaks.

“You love him already, don’t you?”

You sigh again…”Yeah…”

#flo's work #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow x y/n #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader #avatar x fem reader #jake sully x reader #avatar the way of water

[agirlcandream84]

Where There Is Light | Frank Castle x Reader

My first Frank Castle fic, which was a long time coming. It's... angsty which is sorta My Whole Deal ™️ but it's also pretty goddamn hot. Want to shout out @chvoswxtch whose Frank content is literal perfection and who single handedly made me fall in love with the character.

Summary: Frank returns from a trip to discover his worst nightmare, or so he thinks. Anger quickly turns to angst as Frank is confronted with his vulnerabilities head-on.

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI. Explicit content. Fingering, P in V, slight praise kink, angst

"Alright, stop," you mumble, hearing enough.

"And do you know how easy it was for me to fucking waltz in here," he continues, his voice at a shout, ignoring your quiet plea.

"Frank stop," you beg a little louder, meeting his eye this time.

"That coulda been anybody who wanted to get in here," he rages on, undeterred.

"STOP!" you scream, even surprising yourself, "...please Frank...stop" the last words a more timid mumble, tears starting to spill at the corners of your eyes.

And this time he does. His posture frozen for a moment before snapping back to himself and his touch tender as he reaches for you.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart. It's alright," he says as he engulfs you in his arms. "I ain't gonna hurt ya. Ssh sh sh," he shushes you, as his calloused hand runs over the back of your head, your face pressed into his broad chest as you take slow breaths to calm your frayed nerves. "I do it cuz--" he starts but you stop him.

"I know why you do it," you interrupt, not making him say the names of the ones he lost. The truth was, you felt horribly guilty. He was right-- you were careless. And now wasn't a great time to be careless. Frank was away for a few days and you'd been so good about being vigilant without him but it was exhausting. Checking every blind spot. Jamming the door every night. Only running errands in daylight. No headphones--ever. You were Castle's girl and the wrong people knew it.

You wanted a normal moment. One normal moment. You opened the bay window in the living room to let in the late summer breeze and laid on the cool wood floor and listened to an album in the patch of sun like a cat. Freshly showered, a cold iced tea nearby, the moment felt nearly criminal. And it may as well have been.

Frank returned home after six long days and broke into a sprint the moment he saw the curtain blowing in the breeze, assuming a break-in. He climbed the fire escape, his heart hammering in his chest expecting to find his life destroyed for the second time. And instead he saw you, his cat in her patch of sun, and it would have been a goddamn beautiful sight if he hadn't thought you were likely to have been mutilated and dead instead. And all that anger had to go somewhere.

"I'm sorry," you murmur into his chest. "I was careless," you admit.

"Sweetheart I--" he starts but stops, his chin perched on the top of your head. "I know this probably isn't the life you imagined for yourself. And I, uh, I know it's on account of me," he continues.

"Frank don't." you stop him, his self-loathing creeping in like it had so many times before. The narrative woven into your relationship without your permission-- that you're Too Good for Frank Castle. You lean back from his chest to find his eyes. "YOU are exactly what I imagined for myself Frank Castle," you say with all the determination you felt.

His chocolate eyes scan your face before his hands find either side of your head to take your mouth in a kiss meant to convey a thousand words. I love you. I want you. I need you. Don't leave me. Don't die. His mouth moves with a desperate desire to consume you--to keep you just a little longer. That fucking curtain blowing in the breeze like a black flag playing in his mind. Like a man propelled forward with only momentum-- terrified if he stops you'll turn to dust.

You hear him inhale deeply through his nose as his tongue explores your mouth and your body melts into the strength of his. One arm laces behind your lower back as the other moves to cradle the back of your head, his hands weaving into your still-damp hair and tugging slightly to tilt your head upward. He uses the motion to trail his mouth down the length of your exposed neck as a breathy sigh escapes your open mouth.

"Frank-- it's ok-- I'm ok," you assure him in a whisper as his grip around you tightens. You know this Frank-- the Frank that's cracked open and terrified. The Frank that barrels forward fueled by the anger and rage of the things that have happened or could happen. The real Frank.

"I love you so fuckin' much," he says, his mouth returning to yours as his hand finds an anchor under your thigh to lift and guide your left leg around his waist, quickly followed by your right. Your core begins to throb as you feel the comforting size of him. The girth of his hips spreading your thighs apart. The expanse of his shoulders where your arms are draped. The power of his hands dug into your ass as he strides the length of the living room to place you gently in the patch of sun on the wood floor.

Positioned between your spread legs, he reaches forward to slide his old T-shirt off your body, taking a moment to mutter "fuck" as the sun hits your bare tits and he grips them possessively. His fingers sink into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down your legs, leaving you in only your wet panties clinging to your heated core. He slows now, his hands trailing up the sides of your hips, under your arms and down the length of your outstretched arms, pausing to lace his fingers into yours as he kisses you deeply.

"You gotta promise to be a good girl for me," he says between kissing the length of your neck to your collarbone. "Take all the precautions I say," he adds as he trails to the swell of your breast before sucking on your pert nipple. "No more mistakes princess," he continues, a trail of kisses peppered down your stomach.

His hand tugs are the waist of your panties and glides them over the curve of your hips and down your legs. He sees the slick coating of your puffy lips and a low whistle escapes his lips. "Can you promise to be good for me?" he asks, his hands drawing slow languid circles where your legs meet your hips.

"Frankie please," you whine, his form towering over yours, fully clothed and orchestrating your pleasure.

"Gotta hear you say it honey. Say you'll be a good girl," he says with a slight furrow of his brow.

"I'll be a good girl Frankie, I promise. Please," you mumble, taking the moment to open your eyes to find his-- your hips grinding to find friction.

"Sssh sssh," he hushes your desperation as his hand slides into your soaked folds. "Fuck honey, I didn't know it was this bad," he mumbles to himself, his hand working your petals, his finger slipping in and out of your needy hole. You gasp, your back arching, as the sunlight paints you in golden molten yellow.

The sight of you alights him and he sits on his haunches to fluidly remove his shirt and unbuckle his jeans, his cock already straining against them. He reaches in to guide this thick cock out and bends down to weave his arm behind your back again.

You whimper as he lifts you gingerly from the ground to straddle his lap, your slick core pressed against the length of his cock. "I gotchu sweetheart," he mumbles into your ear as he guides his cock into your velvety cavern.

He hisses and you feel like the air is squeezed from your lungs, perched on the expanse of Frank's thighs with the girth of his thick cock spearing you in place. Frank's slow intention before is replaced by feral desire, his pupils blown as he feels the full length of himself sheathed in your heavenly pussy. "Fuck sweetheart, you're so fucking tight," he says incredulously as your arms wrap around his shoulders to cling to his strength. "You tell me to stop if I'm hurtin' ya," he adds, finding your eyes for confirmation.

You lock eyes with him and shake your head no-- don't stop, never stop, stay this way forever-- your body nearly quivering with the sheer size of him. Your permission ignites him as he begins jutting his cock into you-- one pump, then two to make room before fucking into you with the full force of him.

You bounce on his lap like a ragdoll, holding onto his shoulders and looking down to see the way his cock splits you in two. His breath is ragged in your ear, with a fuck tumbling from his lips when you clench on his length. With each jut of his hips into your core, your swollen clit runs on the steely length of him, drawing you closer to bliss.

"Gonna make you feel good baby," he promises. Not just right now but for forever. For all the ways loving Frank Castle makes life harder he promises to make it worth it. "Gonna take care of you sweetheart," he says, sweat beading his brow as the force of cock slams deep into your belly. There's that terrified desperation again. His lust making way to fear, consuming you while he can hold you in his arms.

You look up at his face, twisted in concentration, fevered. "I know Frankie," you reassure him, pushing the stray hair from his forehead. "You take such good care of me," you agree, starting to roll your hips in his broad lap-- redefining the pace. You feel his breath slow as his head lolls back at the sensation of your cervix massaging the tip of his cock deep inside you. "You make me feel so good Frankie," you rasp, the statement so true it elicits tears from your eyes.

He finds your eyes and his hands find either side of your face. His mouth devours yours and then travels upwards to kiss away each tear that's escaped. "Fuck honey, I don't wanna lose you," he mutters with your tears on his lips, his eyes scanning your face as his cock is still buried deep within you.

"I'm staying Frankie. I'm here," you promise, the effort of riding him making the statement more of a whimper.

He senses your exhaustion and laces his arm again around your lower back, his other arm cradling your upper back. His support allows you to arch your back while his measured pumps become deeper and more purposeful. The long drag of his cock against your clit nearly unbearable. He feels you grip his biceps and knows you're close.

"Cum sweetheart. Do it for me, doll. Let me feel you," he croons as his lips travel down your neck. "Wanna make you feel good," he adds as his speed increases.

At his command, your bliss rips through you-- the sensation almost frightening in intensity. Your core is clenching so tightly around him that a guttural cry rips from your throat and the rest of your body goes limp in his arms. Only his support carries you through the waves of quaking and your ears ring like a bomb went off.

"Come back to me honey," you hear him say. His hand brushing the fallen hair from your face. "There's my girl," he smiles as your eyes flutter open, "there she is."

You place your hands on either side of Frank's face and cradle it, a gesture you might do to a cherubic baby but instead do to a man who inflicts pain for a living. His skin is rough, his nose puzzled together after a thousand breaks, his eyes crinkled at the corners. His cock is still steely inside you and you return to rolling your hips.

"Cum inside me Frankie. Fill me up," you beg the way he likes. He groans at your pleas. You reach for one of his arms and bring his hand to your mouth. You take his thumb in your mouth and suck it, holding his gaze as you roll your hips in his lap. "Fuck honey," he grunts before making three final forceful pumps into you before he coats your walls.

You stay this way-- entangled, embedded, soldered together by fire and metal -- until the patch of sun fades away.

#jon bernthal #frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction

[adaptacy]

Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲

hiiii anon! here you go :)

no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.

It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.

"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.

"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.

Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.

You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."

"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.

"I have a family."

"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.

"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."

"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.

"So? We'll get to know each other again."

"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.

There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"

"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"

"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"

"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"

"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"

"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."

"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.

"That's all I am to you now, huh?"

"What?"

"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"

You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."

"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.

"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.

"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."

"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."

He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.

"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."

"Sweetpea, I-"

"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.

But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.

Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.

Why he didn't, you had no clue.

#tcm game #tcm #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny slaughter headcanons

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

🩸BLOODY TROPES FOR YOUR (FAN)FICTION🩸

tw: blood drinking, blood, obviously, also mentions of violence, body horror.

🩸whumper licks the blood off of whumpee’s face

🩸whumpee ends up with a cut on their finger, whumper slowly puts whumpee’s finger in their mouth and, without breaking eye contact, sucks whumpee’s finger clean.

🩸vampire! or nonhuman! caretaker struggles to contain and control themself as they take care of whumpee’s cut when the sight / the smell of whumpee’s blood awakens that raw instinct within them (caretaker).

🩸human! caretaker and vampire! whumpee; whumpee needs blood, so caretaker offers whumpee their own, by pressing their inner wrist to whumpee’s lips. whumpee doesn’t want to drink from caretaker in fear of hurting them, but they don’t have a choice.

🩸whumpee tries to hide their injuries from caretaker. they were doing so well until the front of their white shirt begins to turn red right in front of everybody.

🩸whumper hunts whumpee down by using the scent of whumpee’s blood, visibly sniffing the air before they smile creepily once they smell the blood.

🩸gotta love me a good old classic blood seeping through the bandage trope!

🩸a stubborn whumpee insists they’re fine (they’re not); “you’re bleeding through your bandage,” says caretaker. “I am fine,” whumpee insists. “no, you’re not. I told you to let me do it, but you were too stubborn to accept my help. now stay still as I take care of the cut and the bandage for you. and no, I’m not taking no for an answer this time,” caretaker’s voice is stern and final.

🩸whumpee choking on their own blood is such a criminally underrated trope. caretaker has to turn whumpee on their side so they don’t choke on their own blood!!!!

🩸caretaker rushes to save whumpee from whumper, the second they kick the door open they find whumpee and whumper lying side by side on the floor, both covered in blood. caretaker quickly rushes to kneel next to whumpee, expecting the worst, before whumpee slowly opens their eyes and says (referring to the blood), “don’t worry, it’s not mine.”

🩸whumper, who is covered in the blood of whumpee’s friends, walks into whumpee’s cell, and they make whumpee guess whose blood these belong to.

🩸whumper tells whumpee how pretty they look “in red”

🩸vivisection? vivisection.

🩸caretaker cleans up whumpee’s blood off the floor / off the walls, after what happened (a murder? a success or failed surgery? the choice is yours).

🩸there’s also something very painfully angsty about caretaker having to eventually clean whumpee’s blood off of the wall or the floor where whumpee died, because it’s not the process of cleaning up that hurts but the realization / the acceptance (whether or not caretaker want to accept) that whumpee is gone, and by getting rid of these blood stains, caretaker is saying goodbye to whumpee for good.

🩸caretaker is visibly trembling as they look down at their shirt that’s still covered in whumpee’s blood after whumpee a.) died in their arms, b.) got taken into surgery where they’re trying to save their life (the choice is yours).

🩸that soft little “oh” whumpee lets out when they realize how severe they’re bleeding, when they start feeling dizzy, like they might faint.

🩸field amputation!!! field amputation!!! field amputation!!!!!!

🩸caretaker applies a tourniquet on whumpee to try to slow down the bleeding, though it is hard to ignore whumpee’s crying out in pain each time caretaker tightens the tourniquet around whumpee’s limb.

🩸or, whumpee is alone, so they have to apply the tourniquet on themself. they may find something to bite, maybe their own shirt, to stop themself from screaming in pain as they tighten the tourniquet.

🩸maybe it doesn’t have to be an act of slowing down / stopping the bleed at all, maybe whumpee is alone where they have to perhaps remove the bullet from their own shoulder / leg / arm by themself? or maybe they have to stitch up their own wounds because they’re on their own?

🩸it’s so sexy when a wounded, bleeding and whimpering whumpee has to be their own caretaker.

#whump #vampire #angst #writing #writeblr #whumpblr #whump tropes #vampcore #vampirecore #medical whump #whump prompts #whump trope #whump prompt #writing tropes #writing trope #writing prompts #writing prompt #tropes #trope #writer #prompts #prompt #whump community #writing challenge #vampires #dark academia #writing inspo #writing inspiration #whump writing #whump blog

[sandy-the-glader]

Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)

Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”

Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧

Afraid of Me

*Not my gif*

Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader

Type: Fluff and sorta angsty

Length: 5.4K (a bit long)

Summary: Request above <3

Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn

A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol

I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?

I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.

Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.

I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?

"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.

In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.

"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.

"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.

He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.

I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.

"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.

Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.

This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.

The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?

-

"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.

"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.

Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.

"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.

"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.

"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.

"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.

"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.

She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.

"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.

"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.

"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.

"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.

"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.

"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.

"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.

"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.

"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.

"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.

"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.

"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.

"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.

"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.

"I understand." She muttered.

"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.

-

I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.

Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.

"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.

"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.

I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.

"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.

"Hm?" I replied softly.

"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.

I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!

"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."

"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.

She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.

"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.

-

"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.

"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!

"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined

"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.

-

I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.

What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?

"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.

"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.

"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."

I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.

"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.

One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.

I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?

"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.

His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.

Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.

Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.

The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.

What. The. Fuck.

-

It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.

"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.

"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.

Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.

"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."

"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.

"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.

"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.

We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.

I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.

Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.

"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.

“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?

“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.

“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...

“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.

"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?

I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.

Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.

I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.

"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"

"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.

-

The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.

I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.

A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.

The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another

Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.

And the whole mission went by quickly.

"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.

"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.

"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.

"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.

"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.

"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.

"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.

I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.

"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.

Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.

Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.

I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.

-

It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.

But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?

I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.

"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"

"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.

"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.

Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.

The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.

He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.

"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.

"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.

"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.

"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.

"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase fanfic #vigilante #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #freddie stroma x reader #in such a vigilante brain rot again please help #adrian chase x reader #soft angst #fluff

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART TWELVE

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: The day before Wyatt's birthday brings you a series of information on Jack you didn't expect, revealing he was a lot more broken than you thought

(This is the twelfth chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO ELEVEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of depression, mentions of implied suicide attempt, fluff, mom!reader

A/N: This was a difficult chapter because it ended up being a lot more angsty than I intended, but it felt right to the story, I hope you besties enjoy it ❤️🥺

4.1k words

You bit your lips as you took the road that led you to Jack's ranch. You felt an anxiety creeping up your chest, at the same time Wyatt couldn't take his excitement of going back to his papa's house. It was going to be a big weekend for your baby boy: his birthday party happening on Saturday on the ranch for the very first time. It was a huge event for Wyatt as kids are absolutely obsessed with their birthdays and for Jack too, being the first birthday he'd get to spend with his boy. Not only that, for the first time, his ranch would welcome a party and be filled with people, kids running around, music, laughter and everything Jack's lonely heart had ever wished for since the moment he'd bought that ranch.

Jack had asked you to go on Friday afternoon, he had a surprise for Wyatt and he would like for his son to be able to enjoy it before the party, so there wouldn't be too many kids wanting to play too and stealing his thunder. 

For the past two weeks, you'd been in contact all the time, for visiting as your son and his dad couldn't stay away from each other, growing attached each passing day and because you and him needed to plan the party. Jack had assured you all you needed to do was to decide decoration, food, and pick any other details and he would make it happen, regardless of how much it would cost. He was willing to make your son's little dreams come true and he wasn't going to spare any money. 

However, as the co-parenting part was going great, your relationship with Jack was someone else. After that morning at your apartment, he just took his distance from you; he was physically there several times during the week, playing and spending time with Wyatt and planning the details of the party with you, buying the three of you dinner from your favorite places or ice cream for dessert, he was still kind, generous and polite, but he was emotionally distant from you, understanding that you didn't want anything to do with that old cowboy. So now he respectfully addressed you by your name and only that, no sugar, sweetheart or darling, he was keeping respectful. He also hadn't mentioned anything related to his love life nor yours, so you had no idea if he tried Tinder again or going on any dates, the thought still bothering you even if you tried acting like it didn't, but it also puzzled you that Jack hadn't said anything about Frankie either. It didn't take big brains to assume the cowboy hated the pilot and vice versa, but you expected Jack to go full maniac and have someone at Statesman get a hold of Frankie's classified file or criminal records and whatever, and your guess was that Frankie was clean, otherwise Jack would've said something already. Sometimes you thought Jack's reaction was an exaggeration but overall it felt reassuring to know he would do his best to keep you and Wyatt safe. 

As for you and Frankie, things were… slow. He had some jobs to do here and there and you were quite thankful for that, it's not that you didn't want Frankie anymore, but you thought that maybe you and him weren't on the same page anymore, or perhaps you never were and your whole relationship was just a way to try and run away from the haunting ghost that was your former relationship with Jack Daniels. You had even invited Frankie to the party - especially after Jack gave you a free hand to do whatever you wanted to - because you thought it would be nice for him to bring his daughter Melissa along. She was a year older than Wyatt and though you'd never met her just as Frankie had never met your son, you assumed it would be cool, it was another kid for your son to play with on his special day. 

Wyatt was a giggly mess, not containing himself as he couldn't wait to see his daddy and play on the ranch. You felt your heart warming with love, at your son's happiness, having his daddy around was essential for his blossoming into a more extrovert and confident child. 

You parked in front of the ranch, finding it odd Jack's bronco wasn't there, but instead of overthinking things, you helped Wyatt unbuckle and get out of the car. You held his little hand as you walked inside, but he immediately ran away at the same time Helen welcomed you with a hug. She was so glad to see you and your son again, and especially after she learned you and Jack were on good terms, even if it meant you were friends and nothing more, it was good to see Jack smile, go back to riding his horses, excited about things once more, from one who watched him from afar, it seemed he went back to life, after getting his family back. 

"Dada???" Wyatt squealed at the top of his little lungs once he got into the house, he thought it was odd for him not to welcome them, but his attention was immediately shifted to the coffee table, where he was the most adorable horse action figures he'd seen. Helen smiled at him "you're daddy is at work, but he left these horses for you" she explained as Wyatt rushed to the table, sitting on the floor and immediately began playing with them "did you know your daddy was your size when he played with his little horses? His mama found the box she kept them and sent it over to your daddy, so he could give it to you" Helen explained to your son in her gentle voice, while her hand ran through his soft curls. Wyatt smiled widely, so entertained by the toy, and no matter if the action of time was visible, he fell in love with each little horse of the set. It was a simple one, and you could have a small glimpse into Jack's humble but also very happy childhood, and suddenly a suffocating need to see your cowboy appeared. As if Helen read your mind, she smiled "Jack is back at Statesman, he went to hand out some invitations for tomorrow, but he shouldn't take long" 

You nodded and followed her into the kitchen, knowing your son would be quietly playing by himself and accepting Helen's cup of tea. 

"A penny for your thoughts?" She tilted her head and chuckled at your frowned expression "I can see something is going on in this pretty little head of yours, honey and I know it has to do with a certain cowboy…" 

Your cheeks heated up immediately and you looked around a little embarrassed to see you were too easy to read, or perhaps Jack told her everything that happened, it wouldn't be too surprising if he had, as he often got very chatty once he drank a lot, and Helen played the role of friend very often too, whenever she didn't have to act like Jack's mother at his irresponsible behavior. 

"What has he told you about the latest events?" You raised your eyebrow and let the woman make an account of what Jack had told her about his attempt of going on a date and everything else that happened after that. "...He was very upset when he got home that morning, I assumed he had done something bad, but I see he was just feeling rejected; though I can see you aren't looking like a million bucks either, so I'm guessing the situation messed up with the two of you"

"I just don't know what to do anymore, Helen… I try so hard to fight my feelings for Jack, but they're still so strong, even after everything he did to me, I can't help but love him. But at the same time I'm scared of giving into this love, how can I trust him? He even talked about trying for a little sister for Wyatt, but Helen, how can I get pregnant with his child after everything he did to me?" You said as your eyes were full of tears, you were just too confused and scared of what things would be like, of what people would talk about if you ever decided to give in and try things with Jack. 

"Y/N!" Helen chuckled "you are overthinking things right now… a baby? Sure, that's a situation to think about, but no one is asking you to jump into that right now… Jack is asking you for a chance! A chance of taking you on a date, of showing you he can take care of you and Wyatt and that you will be happy with him" Helen took your hand and caressed it happy "Jack loves you and Wyatt, he's a man who really loves his family and I know he's done some real bad shit, but he's proving to you he's turning into a better person, isn't he?" She smiled as you nodded and bit your lips "no one is telling you to jump right into his bed, but let him in, you want him to get near too, don't you? Give him a chance, spend the weekend with him, feeling what it would be like to be an actual family with your cowboy" Helen smiled but a shadow crossed her face as something dark flickered in her eyes and she cleared her throat "I'm sorry if I seem insisting, I don't mean to make you embarrassed but I just worry about Jack so much… but ever since you walked into his life… Well, ever since he walked back into your lives and you accepted him, he has improved, you know? Because he was bad…" 

"Yeah, I know… he told me about the mission and all" you always felt sad when you thought about that, looking at Helen and seeing how she went serious 

"What about before the mission? Did he tell you what happened?" 

"No… what else happened? Did he get hurt?" You gulped, as your anxiety was increasing by the minute you realized the subject was even more serious than you thought. Helen sighed and got up, going to the kitchen window and checking to see if Jack's bronco wasn't there, she knew he wouldn't forgive her if he overheard her telling you what had happened.

"You have to promise me you're not gonna say anything to him at all, please, he's gonna be really angry if he knows I told you… he doesn't like talking about that at all" 

"I-I promise, now please Helen, tell me already, you're making me anxious…" 

The older woman sighed and rubbed the back of her head "Jack's behavior had been really erratic, especially the months before he decided to finally go after you and Wyatt. I noticed he seemed to be more and more depressed, as he was dwelling into his loneliness and guilt, and that's when the heavy drinking began. I mean, you do know he drinks, but it wasn't just his usual drink, it was more, and he was mixing up alcohol too, something I had never seen him do… he's a classy man, and he likes whiskey and that's about it" 

She took a breath and served the two of you some more tea, taking a longer sip and swallowing slowly, before she could talk again 

"And with the drinking, it also came the dangerous behavior… it was first the driving and drinking, he had always been extra careful with that, but suddenly, it was like it didn't really matter anymore to him, he would just get drunk and speed up whenever he needed to leave home. Then we had the horse incident… Jack decided to ride one weekend, he hadn't been around his horses very much, and especially not Silver Pony and I guess it's because it reminded him of you, but still, he went riding and he didn't get his saddle correct and he fell from the horse, and Y/N, you know Jack and how good he is at horseback riding, you know he wouldn't simply forget to fix his saddle. Well, he fell from the horse and the doctor said it was a miracle he hadn't broken any bones and if he had hit his head in the fall…" Helen sighed and watched as you looked at her in horror, your eyes wide at what you had just started learning from him. You had no idea until what extent he was broken, but that made you hurt in a way it was impossible to explain. 

"And there was this evening I called him because dinner was ready, but he wasn't answering. It was just odd, Jack isn't the kind of guy to ignore, so I went to his room and I found him passed out… He'd washed down some sleeping pills with whiskey and god… I don't even like to think what would've happened. Of course he denies it and says it's an accident, but when the Statesman forced him to go to therapy, I sighed relieved, and when he first came back home after spending time with you and Wyatt and I saw the beautiful smile in his face, I prayed so hard he would find his way in life, and of course I know you're not a savior and it's not obligation to save anyone, but it's important to know you have such positive effect on him, and well, if you two are meant to be, there's really no other way out of this, you'll stay together" 

By the time Helen was finished telling you those things, you realized your tears were running down your cheeks; you sniffled and tried to wrap your head around the fact that if it weren't for fate, or a little divine intervention, your cowboy Jack, would be dead by then. It was a suffocating feeling, there wasn't a loss, but the mere prospect of it was enough to make your stomach swirl and your chest get too heavy to breathe. 

"Dada!!!" Your son's voice was enough to break the spell you were under and you quickly dried your tears as best as you could, being able to hear Jack's heavy boots walking and his voice cheering and talking to Wyatt. You and Helen looked at each other and you tried your best to pretend you hadn't been talking about Jack for the past half an hour, as he walked into the kitchen, he politely greeted you and at that moment you knew you'd give everything to hear him call you sugar.

The cowboy was carrying Wyatt in his arms and tickling his tummy, loving to hear his happy giggles, but frowned immediately as he saw your crying face 

"What happened?" He asked concerned and took a step closer, 

"Uh, nothing… I was telling Helen about my mom" you mouthed the end of the sentence so Wyatt wouldn't be curious or wouldn't get upset at the mention of his grandma "she's not coming to the party because I didn't invite her after what happened…" you added to your half lie, as you hadn't invited her at all especially because she would give you shit about letting Jack throw the party and also because you were sure she would end up screwing up the party to one of you, if not to everyone. 

Jack bought your excuse as he felt sad to know you were having problems with your mom, of course he still felt guilty about that, but he was aware that you have always had problems with her, so it's not like it'd started just because of him. Yet, the cowboy took a step closer and took his hand to your face, his thumb wiping the last tear that insisted on rolling down your cheek. 

"I'm sorry about that, sugar, but pretty girls like yourself shouldn't cry… ain't that right Wyatt? Don't you think that pretty girls like mama shouldn't cry?" He talked to your son, who joined the conversation excitedly, at the same time you leaned into Jack's touch, before he could shy away. 

There it was: sugar. 

You had no idea how much you'd missed that until you heard it again from his lips after weeks of awkwardness around each other. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around Whiskey and burying your face into his chest you sniffed into his scent and playfully nibbled your son's little legs, making him squealed in pure happiness. You felt the cowboy's arms wrapping around your body and keeping you in that embrace, his family's embrace. 

You looked up at Jack's puzzled face and smiled big at him 

"I guess I missed you" you rested your head against his chest once more and felt when his lips pecked the top of your head, and chuckled when Wyatt did the same, imitating his daddy in being an authentic southern gentleman.

                             •••

Jack had kindly asked Helen to set things out in the backyard so he could grill his famous burger for dinner. He knew you used to love them when you were together and he was hoping his son would also take a liking to it as well, but first, he was overly excited to show the two of you, Wyatt's birthday gift. He wanted it to be a day before his actual birthday so the other kids wouldn't make a fuss about it and he could play calmly. He called you to follow them, placing his own stetson back on and handed Wyatt's small one. You felt kind of disappointed Jack didn't have one for you, after all, he had said he would get you a hat too, but you felt sad to realize he probably assumed you'd been just joking. He guided you towards the stables, Wyatt was very excited, his arms wrapped tight around Jack's neck and little eyes widening the second he spotted the new farm fence right next to the horses. You were also extremely curious to know what the cowboy had come up to your baby. 

"Do you know how to read?" He asked Wyatt who shook his head a little confused as he stared into a sign at the gate of the dence, Jack smiled sweetly at him "then papa's gonna teach you. Look!" He pointed at the W and his fingers followed the sequence

"W… Y… A… T… T…" He read out loud "Wyatt's ranch, that's what it says baby boy, it's your ranch" Jack explained to him excitedly with a shit eating grin, opening the gate and pulling Wyatt down the moment he spotted the pony his daddy got for him.

The little boy felt he was going simply insane, as his present was also his new best friend, he immediately hugged the little pony which was very gentle and easy going towards kids. He loved how the pony looked like a tiny little version of Silver Pony and he looked up at his parents, his eyes had happy tears, being so emotional to have the best birthday of his little life. Your son clung to you and Jack, and sobbed happy tears, at the same time he giggled when the pony nudged his hand gently. He sniffled and leaned into his daddy's soothing touch, who dried his tears and smiled

"W-what's the name daddy? Of my pony?" He managed to ask, and Jack chuckled "she's yours, baby, you can pick whichever name you want" he caressed his soft curls and smiled at you. 

Wyatt nodded and caressed the pony cute head, thinking very hard as he looked at you "she looks like Silvew Pony, mommy…" he said melting your heart, so you just nodded and stroked his cheek "yes she does… maybe Silver Pony is the mommy and she is the daughter" you suggested, knowing it wasn't possible but for Wyatt's innocent head it made so much sense he gasped. He held her head gently and looked into her eyes, showing how good he was at handling animals, again, another trait inherited from his dad senior agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels 

"Silvew Staw" he said proudly. 

You didn't know exactly how long you and Jack spent watching Wyatt play with Silver Star, but it didn't matter as your little boy was thrilled. He was so happy and wouldn't stop giggling and cuddling the pony, kind of treating her like a puppy, while you and Jack took turns between watching and playing along. When evening came, Jack said it was time for dinner, though Wyatt didn't want to leave Silver Star, which caused the three of you to take the pony back to the house and let Wyatt play with her while Jack worked on grilling his burgers. Helen had set everything up, and your heart clenched as you saw she'd placed everything you loved, your favorite bread, your favorite sauces and fries too, knowing how much you loved when the cowboy made his burgers or steak.

You held Wyatt who sat on your lap exhausted and downed a box of apple juice, as he watched his dad make dinner. You could tell your son was tired but extremely happy as he couldn't stop smiling. You snuggled him and rested your chin on his head, loving how warm your son was. You could tell he was hungry but he was so tired he didn't even seem to notice. 

You on the other hand, nearly salivated the moment Jack served you your burger, you ate it so quickly, savoring each bite and not one single bit embarrassed about your satisfied moans, Jack thought it was quite amusing and couldn't stop watching you, feeling happy at that moment of pure domesticity, he extended his hand and placed it above yours, stroking it gently, you bit your lips at the realization of how big his hand was and what they were capable of doing. He pointed at the lawn and the two of you laughed softly as you saw Wyatt and Silver Star napping on the grass together. The toddler was snuggling his pony and that made you very happy.

You looked back at Jack and took his hand again 

"Thank you, for everything… Today's been wonderful and it's already the best birthday he's ever had, even if his birthday is technically tomorrow… and his present is amazing" 

He chuckled and caressed your knuckles with his thumb "anything for our son, sugar and anything for you too, all you gotta do is ask" 

"I know you were there Jack" you suddenly said and he frowned in confusion "the day I gave birth to our son, I know you'd been there, in the hospital… I saw you, you went there to see us, but I was too feverish to say anything and in the morning my mom assured me I had hallucinated" you sighed sadly and Jack immediately left his chair and sat next to you. 

You looked into his eyes and there it was, his soft, teary eyes, full of hurt and regret, but at the same time making you see he was still your Jack, your cowboy

"I-I tried holding Wyatt, I really did, but your mom told me not to, she said you'd given orders to specifically not let me get near Wyatt" he swallowed "I'm sorry I didn't insist more, maybe if I had held our son, I wouldn't have left, hell, I'm sure I wouldn't have left, I'm sorry Y/N, I know that you will never forgive me and I know I'm not worthy of your forgiveness but I wish I could show you I mean business when I say I want you and Wyatt, I want to make things right between us and our son" he said in his desperate way once more, even after he had vowed not to beg for you any longer. 

You stroked his cheek "I'm confused and I know I make you confused too, Jack, we're like cat and mouse now, I wish I could just take a decision and stick to it, I wish I could be rational with my feelings, but feelings are never rational" you said "the rational thing would be moving on from each other, me finding a nice guy to rebuild my life and you finding yourself a new sugar, someone you can give yourself fully into your relationship now that your late family is behind you, but we both know this is not possible" 

You blinked some of your tears "I wanna try if you wanna try, Jack… I wanna believe and have faith in you, so I guess I want a chance for us to see if we can still be a family, but I also need some time, I need to talk to Frank-" 

Jack interrupted you by placing a peck on your lips, he didn't even want to hear you mention that other guy's name. He thought his heart would burst out of his chest at any minute, it was like his dream was coming true. 

"I don't want to just jump into your bed Jack, I want us to do things right, restart, get to know each other again, because we are different people after everything that happened… all I'm trying to say is: will you be patient with me?" 

"I'll do anything for you, sugar" he leaned towards you and kissed your lips, as you two decided to take a step together towards the future.

____

A/N: Hi besties, did you like the chapter? I hope so ❤️ Whiskey is the best dad in the world or what? And for a brief moment I considered making him also gift reader with a baby goat because 🤏🤏🤏

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfictions #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x y/n #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x y/n #jack daniels x you #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels imagine #kingsman #kingsman fanfiction

[lovelyxkazuha]

Songs I’d Associate w/ Genshin Men

Chars Included: Albedo, Childe, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Venti, Xiao

First post yay!

Albedo

Golden Hour

“I don’t need no light to see you shine”

2. Inferno

“No halo, baby you’re the reason why hell’s so hot”

Childe

Levitating

“You want me, I want you baby, my sugarboo, I’m levitating”

2. Butter

“Smooth like butter, like a criminal undercover”

Kazuha

A Thousand Years

“I have died every day waiting for you” okay but like this song with all the angsty kazuha fics

2. Count on Me

“You can count on me like 1, 2, 3; I’ll be there”

Scaramouche

Darkside

“Cross my heart and hope to die, welcome to my dark side”

2. Clarity

“If our love is insanity, why are you my clarity?”

Venti

Wellerman

“One day when the tonging is done, we’ll take our leave and go”

2. Soldier, Poet, King

“He will slay you with his word”

Xiao

Demons

“Look into my eyes, it’s where my demons hide”

2. Let Me Down Slowly

“ Could you find a way to let me down slowly? A little sympathy I hope you can show me”

#albedo x reader #childe x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin albedo #genshin x reader #genshin childe #genshin kazuha #genshin scaramouche #genshin venti #genshin xiao #genshin x y/n

[phantasmagoria-in-neverland]

Until Eternity.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader.

Synopsis: Miguel has lost you once before, back on your original Earth. Then lost you again, when he found a reality in which the two of you, and your newfound darling daughter, were finally happy.  Now, in one final act of selfishness, he has found you one last time, and he is not going to let you go. Not for the entire Multiverse. or alternatively  I loved you once, I loved you twice, I loved you in my previous lives.

Genre and Warnings: Angsty with a happy ending, more or less. Miguel has a whole lot of issues, what's new. He is also kind of obsessed. There may be some inaccuracies when it comes to the back story, I'm not 100% sure. Also, Gabriella is described to be the Reader’s and Miguel's daughter, but I steered clear of any implication that she has been birthed by the reader, she could very well be adopted.

A/N: This fic was written while listening to “Until Eternity by Blackbriar” on repeat; for an optimal reading experience, get some earphones on and enjoy!

At the beginning of every story, Spider-Man falls in love. Peter Parker has Mary Jane Watson, Miles Morales has Gwen Stacy, and Miguel O'Hara has you. And at the end of every story, Spider-Man’s heart is left in pieces. Mary Jane Watson leaves, Gwen Stacy dies, and you… 

Miguel doesn't let himself think of you too often, he likes to tell himself it is because he is learning how to move on, to heal, but most days, he simply can't handle your memory. Every reminder of you weighs down on his heart just as much as it keeps him moving forward. 

He wishes he could remember you the way you would want, with a smile on his face, and the taste of all the good times on his tongue. And that is how it starts, when he allows himself the chance to look through the pictures of you he collected over the years, it is only when he reaches the end that his heart breaks all over again… when he remembers your deaths. Both of them.

The first time Miguel O’Hara fell in love with you, as it is destined to be, happened on your original Earth, Earth-928. The two of you were young and foolish, him, overly ambitious and with a newly discovered power at his fingertips, and you, content to live your life day by day, enjoying the little things and uncaring of the greater powers at play. 

Still, you had fallen for each other and fallen fast. You had known from the moment you met that you would be each other’s forever, and even now, so many years later, Miguel could attest to that truth. 

At the time, he had not thought, not even for a second, that you could be taken away from him; had not known it would be the sum of all of his mistakes that would kill you.

In hindsight, the older version of himself, the one who has spent years researching the Canon Events, can tell that it had been obvious. In every version of the story, it is always Spider-Man that brings about his own ruin, and it is always Spider-Man, the mask first, and the man behind it second, that kills the love of his life.

It comes easy now, to think of all the things he could have done differently, to see each and every mistake he has made along the way glaring back at him.

Had he been a more attentive boyfriend, had he realized you were as mortal as anyone else, had he not focused only on his ambitions, maybe that night, you wouldn't have been left to walk home alone in the dark, listening to the voicemail he left you that promised you ‘he would make it up to you’. Had he been a better Hero, he wouldn't have lost sight of his origins, wouldn't have left all the small time criminals to be handled by the police because he had ‘more important fights to take care of’. If he had been cleaning the streets as he had promised himself he would do, then maybe he would have caught that mugger before he shot you. And had he been a better man, he wouldn't have searched all across the city for the man who took you from him, would have taken him to prison instead of killing him with his own hands, wouldn't have dishonored your memory in such a way.

But Miguel had spent too long holding your cold body cradled to his chest, spent too long scrubbing your blood out of his hands, and too long crying against your headstone, pleading to anyone above for a second chance, to care. 

Miguel took what little comfort he could get: you died as you had lived, kindly. Your focus, your worry, was on him all throughout your last breaths, not a moment spent caring for your blood staining the pavement. You died pleading for him to keep living his life to the fullest, wiping away his tears with a gentle hand, steady even through the pain you must have been in, even with how much strength every movement required.

“Promise me you'll move on.” you begged him, even when the last thing you'd heard out of him was an empty promise.

And so Miguel lied. He told you that he would never forget you, that had been the truest thing to ever come out of his mouth, and perhaps it was what helped him sell what came next. It was in a shaky breath that he swore he would keep smiling for you, that had been a conscious lie, worth it to see the way your face relaxed, for you to leave in peace.

And yet, in your last moments Miguel realized he had been the one to kill you, and he never knew peace again.

So yes, he could easily admit to all the mistakes he had made, and he had paid for them greatly. When you went, all the joy in the world left with you, and Miguel, who'd been left behind, became a shadow of the man he used to be. 

When he discovered a way to travel through the multiverse, his first thought had been to find you, the second one, was a promise to himself that he'd never go looking for you. Not only there was no guarantee that any other version of you would be the you he had lost, there was also the very high probability that where there was a you there would also be another him. He would not mess with your life simply because he could not find a way to live without you, he had to bear the consequences of his own actions, and that was final.

Up until the second time Miguel O’Hara fell in love with you, not that he had ever stopped, on an Earth not your own.

He had only been looking for a quiet place to retire to, which had nothing to do with you, and could not find anywhere to stay for longer than a few months, nowhere felt right, which also had nothing to do with you. 

When the lies he tells himself, and you, start piling up, Miguel lies again: when he looks at himself in the mirror and pretends he doesn't hate the man he sees.

It wasn't until he saw himself die that his life clicked back into place, and something felt right again. Now there wasn't only a him without you, but also a you without him.

Coming back home to you, even though your house was much less advanced then it had been, and he couldn't begin to recall a single memory portrayed in the photographs on the walls, even though he was impersonating your newly dead husband and praying to all the gods he could name that you wouldn't notice, and the two of you had had a daughter he had never even met, felt like spring after a never ending winter, like rebirth. The day he saw you again, for the first time since your death, Miguel thought the world to be kind.

Your life together, that Miguel now clinged so tightly to, was great for a time. A fairytale really, the future you had both dreamed of when you were still young and naïve, when you had still been you, and the happiest place in the world was the treehouse in the garden of the home you had grown up in and hoped to pass to your child. When late at night, he allowed himself some confessions, a whisper of a daughter to name Gabriella, and all the things he would teach her.

And even though here your treehouse was never built, and you spoke a little differently than he remembered, your dream remained, and Gabriella, your pride and joy since before she was even born, was alive in your arms.

Of course, to preserve the perfection, both of you had to look the other way more than once, and act as if you could not see the dark, obvious truths. 

Miguel refused to even attempt to explain why the husband you had thought you knew everything about, suddenly began waking up screaming every other night, why he had nightmares so dark his chills only went away at daybreak. Why he held you as if you would vanish without a warning, why his eyes seemed unable to ever stray from you for more than a few seconds at a time, why he refused to let you walk alone at night as if the world itself would cave in if you did. Why, when you happily recalled events of your shared past, he didn't chime in as much as he used to, why when Gabriella asked all about how you met, your first kiss and your wedding day, he let you do all the talking; You'd have thought his love was diminishing if he didn't smile through every memory as if the sun itself had blossomed on his lips, if he didn't look at the two of you as if you were the meaning of life given form.

So, it was easy to ignore the paranoia, and the fear in his eyes. The way he seemed to walk cautiously through every action, as if afraid to step on fate's toes, and you could not begin to think of a single reason why he would, why he could not look at you without fearing that one wrong movement could rip all this happiness out of his fists all over again. 

Miguel would not allow, if it was the last thing he ever did, all the years spent together you could not remember, and all the memories you had of him he had not lived through, to be a problem. He could learn how to be the Miguel you loved… the one that wasn't Spider-Man.

Until the problem became fate itself. 

Unknown to him at the time, breaking the Canon is not a forgivable action. When he had substituted himself to the Miguel of your Earth, he had interfered with destiny itself, and that was one more mistake he'd regret for the rest of his life to add to the already long heavy list.

When the world started crumbling around you, even with all his power, all Miguel could do was hold his family close and hope that he could at least shield you from the disaster. But as usual, his hopes are in vain and his prayers go unanswered, as everything he has ever wanted disappears right in front of his eyes once more. 

And exactly like the last time, you prove yourself kind above anything else; kind when you whisper sweet reassurances in Gabriella’s ears, kind when you worry over his well being, kind when all you fear for is your family even when the one closest to fading out of existence is you, and Miguel is perfectly fine. Kinder then he could ever deserve, when even then, you keep looking at him relieved to see him alright.

“It’s going to be alright mis amores, I promise.” And though he means every single shaky word that comes out of his mouth, you look at him with tenderness and resignation in your eyes, as if you knew better, as if you pitied the day he'll realize the truth. But your daughter relaxes slightly in your hold, and the last thing he sees before you disappear is the grateful smile you give him.

Once again, Miguel had lost everything because of himself. 

In a twisted way, sometimes he wanders which time was harder: the first time, when he had actually thought himself invincible, when he firmly believed the two of you capable of a happy ever after, what an idiot, or the second time, when he already knew what it felt like to lose you, when he calculated each and every one of his actions to prevent it from happening again, when he had even more to protect then the first time. He could never give himself an answer.

But the truth is, Miguel can't accept what he has lost. Can't accept that it is over, no matter how much he knows you’d want him to. Can't accept that the more he tries to fight fate, the harder his losses hit, the harder it fights back.

Maybe it is the broken promises that hurt the most, each one of them a failure, a reminder that no matter how powerful he becomes and no matter how much he tries, he’ll never be able to keep you by his side. But although Miguel is many things, many of which he is not proud of, he is not a quitter. 

He spends most of his time since your death carefully erecting a Spider Society, to help prevent what happened to you, because of him, to happen anywhere else. Because who else other than him could do it? Who else knows the consequences, the destruction, as intimately as him? Who else could shoulder this responsibility better than the man with nothing left to lose? 

And although Miguel does try not to think of you too often, you never, not for a second, leave his mind. And neither does the idea of trying again, of doing right by you, this time. 

When she figures out what he has been silently planning, Lyla tries to dissuade him the best she can, afraid that if you were to die in his arms one more time, there would be nothing, no part of Miguel left to salvage. He hears none of it. 

No matter how much she begs him to see reason, she cannot get him to even think of it before dismissing all of her concerns, and that is when Lyla realizes that the only thing that is keeping Miguel moving forward, that is keeping him together, is the idea of being reunited with you. So she keeps her mouth shut, afraid he might break if she didn’t, and never once stops fearing the day history will repeat itself, and put the final nail in his coffin.

When he finds you again Miguel is at the end of his rope, and it is starting to become plain to see for everyone around him. Keeping the multiverse together pretty much single handedly, no matter the ridiculous amount of spiders he recruits, is all but draining what little life he had left out of him, and the thought of being able to hold you again is the only thing that keeps him from crashing. Every single free second he has, that become less and less the further apart the Multiverse falls, is spent looking for you.

Then Miguel O’Hara falls in love with you one last time, more desperately than he ever has before, and not only your Earth but Destiny itself shake because of it.

This time, much has changed. Miguel is no longer the man you have fallen for time and time again, he is something a little twisted now, something unfamiliar. He is a man weighed down by his losses, and he knows that it will only take you one look at him to realize that, he can only hope you'll be willing to look away once more.

Still, nothing else matters when he finds you; you're all he can think of. He looks at you and his lungs fill with air for the first time since you went. 

You are different too, he can tell even from afar, your style is different, the way you carry yourself is different, but most of all, your eyes are much sadder than he remembers and for a second he can't help but wonder if you've lost him too. If this is what you look like when you're the one left behind.

The answer to that question comes quickly. For as much as he wants nothing more in the world than run straight into your arms and never leave again, he makes himself wait long enough to observe. His assumptions were wrong, this Earth's Spider-Man is alive, you aren't alone… although you might as well be.

He should have left, the moment he found out you already had him, he should have left. And he would have, would have left you to your life, keeping his damned claws out of it, would have left this Earth, if with an unsalvageable heart, and never looked back, if only you were happy here. But you aren't, he has seen it.

Had he spent just a little less time watching you, observing, making sure you were content and safe, had he left any sooner, he would have never even known you already had a Miguel. Because your, and that word tastes acidic in his mouth, Miguel is far more content being Spider-Man than he is spending time with you.

In the two weeks Miguel has been… watching over you, your boyfriend, he took the time to check for a ring on either one of your fingers, the pendejo couldn't even bother to marry you, has missed a grand total of four date nights, a frankly uncountable amount of calls, and has made you worry sick in front of the TV watching the news for updates on his health. Miguel’s blood boils just thinking about it, and by the defeated gaze you've been wearing the entire time, this is nothing new.

He doesn't cherish you, that is an obvious truth. He has no idea how much he could lose, has no idea just how much could be ripped away from his fingers, regardless of how good of a Hero he becomes, he doesn't even realize that you are without a shred of doubt the best thing that ever has or ever will happen to him. Miguel has never wanted to punch another version of himself so badly in his entire life.

If something were to happen to you, your Miguel would not find out about it for who knows how long, Hell, he has been watching you for weeks without him noticing, if he were to take you away right now he… Miguel, he would treat you right, he would give you all of his love and attention, every second of his time. You would never be left wanting for anything, least of all him. He knows exactly how important you are, exactly what it feels like when you're taken away and the world caves under him, on top of him, loses all its meaning.

He doesn't let himself think, not even for a moment, that in your original timeline he might have acted the same, just as cold and uncaring. Doesn't want to think that he might have left you sitting all night on a stiff couch, waiting for someone that will never arrive, doesn't want to think that he might have been the cause of the cascades of silent sobs that inevitably follow in the morning, when you're left with broken promises and not even a text to greet you. And most of all he doesn't want to think that you might have loved him anyway, through every slight, unconditionally.

He doesn't want to think of it and so he doesn't, even though it weighs heavy in the back of his mind as he prepares for the mission he has dubbed "your rescue".

The plan is simple, all too easy for him, that has already pretended to be another version of himself before, just to be by your side, always to be by your side. This is nothing but a… tiny inconvenience. He only has to pretend to be your boyfriend, your sorry, changed boyfriend, and convince you to follow him. He'll explain what he can later, once you're settled in the home you used to share in your original dimension that he still lives in.

Things will be rough for a while, he won't pretend otherwise, this change is going to need some time to get used to, but you will be loved, and he will be complete, and whatever it takes it will all work out in the end. 

Miguel doesn't think of the ways it ended before, there is no need, he knows better now. This time it will work out because he wouldn't survive if it didn't, because there is nothing, nothing he would not do, nobody he would stop at to keep you alive. And most of all he doesn't think of your baby girl, of the daughter he has lost that you've never even met, soon enough it won't matter anyway. With you in his arms once more, the way it was always meant to be, he will make absolutely sure that you will have all the time in the world to bring Gabriella back.

When he gathers enough courage to enter your apartment, the smell of you that he has missed so dearly hits him in the guts so hard he has to keep himself from doubling over. The tears in his eyes are a little harder to conceal, but he hopes they might play in his favor, as he sees you hurry towards the door with a shout of his name, and he braces himself for your screams. You have every reason to be angry, you don't know any better, if you want to chew him up he will let you without complaint.

Still, the anger never comes. Even though you should want to punch him in the face, and you look like you do, you run to hug him with no hesitation, relieved. There are tears streaming down your face and you're looking at him as if he had stabbed you with his own hands, Miguel’s anger reaches an all time high at the sight. There is no time to find your boyfriend for a… stern talking to, not now that you need him, but his blood won't cool down anytime soon. In the future, he just might come back for a visit. 

When he looks at you, his expression is softer than you've ever seen it, even he would know that, and he's holding you with the gentleness and care of a porcelain doll, he has to stop his hands from trembling when he raises them to caress your face. The curve of your nose is slightly different, he notes distractedly. He should have known better than to think you'd let your anger show, he had always been the one to scream and rage, and you had your tears and silent disappointment. He is left wondering which one hurt the other the most, the thought goes away just as fast as it came, he won't let any of this ever happen again.

“Miguel, are you alright?” your voice is soft, tentative, like you know that there's something different, that something has changed, subconsciously you probably do. It's enough to gather Miguel's complete attention, and that must be strange as well. 

“Of course querida, forgive me for making you worry.” he hasn't felt this good since the last time he held you.

“I thought you had to stay at work late today.” 

“Yes, well, it was about time I came home for a while. I missed you.” you can't begin to imagine how profoundly he means that. 

“A while?” you sound so hopeful it breaks his heart, and renews his conviction, he couldn't bear to leave now, not without you.

“I was thinking of… a little vacation of sorts, a lengthy one. To spend some time together, make up for lost time.” then as an afterthought, because of all the things he's done and should apologize for this isn't one of them, he adds “Para mostrarte cuanto lo siento.”  

You don't seem to hear the way he sounds a little out of his mind, don't see that what was supposed to be a reassuring smile looks more like a manic grin. He can't find it in himself to care, even though Lyla is here too, and she's looking at him with pity and a hint of badly disguised fear in her eyes. She shouldn't be able to show, or feel, this much emotion yet she does, and he lets her. It's good to see himself reflected into someone else's eyes, even when he blinds himself to it.

When you smile at him as if he'd just handed you the world, happy laughter filling the room that makes Miguel's breath hitch in his throat, he knows he has done the right thing. This time, he'll protect your kindness to his last breath, to anyone else's last breath, you'll never have to part again.  Miguel laughs with you, a sound even he had forgotten, and holds you tight to his chest, as if he could hide you in it and protect you from all harm. All he can think of, as you leave, is that if your Earth were to collapse because of it, right in front of his eyes, at least you'd be safe. At least you'd be safe.

#phantasmagoria and storytelling 🥀 #gender neutral reader #gn reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fic #spider verse fanfic #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel x reader