#anyways SEND SCAR SOME LOVE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).

I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.

Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.

Anyway, please enjoy as always <3

Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing

It’s your first mission since Nikto failed you.

(You may have forgiven him. He’s even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesn’t change the truth of what happened – that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didn’t return. You’ve forbade him from hanging himself with “almost,” but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the noose around his throat.)

You’re long since healed and recovered under Nikto’s devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but he’d bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe… until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.

A scar is all that’s left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Nikto’s world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldn’t even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?

Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you haven’t given him leave to be anywhere else.

(He prays that you don’t the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You haven’t told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)

It’s not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. It’s just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.

In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all you’ve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.

You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered O’Conor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment – for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)

And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.

“Oi, lass! Care for a match?”

“Bring it, MacTavish!”

Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.

The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport – though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.

“Fuck!”

Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side – no, it’s not your bad side anymore. You’ve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesn’t think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.

At least you’re laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.

“She is okay, ja?” Konig asks.

Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavish’s side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. You’ve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.

“He is… friendly,” Konig continues.

Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. It’s a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. It’s just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.

There’s a pause that starts to prickle the back of Nikto’s mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind – body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. It’s just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.

And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konig’s.

“Too friendly, don’t you think?” he adds.

Nikto snorts and turns back to the match – where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As you’re scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, “good match” in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.

“Whose turn is it?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.

You don’t see MacTavish’s eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.

“Mine,” Konig answers, stepping forward.

You smile at him, bump fists with him. “Kick his ass for me, yeah?”

“Ja.”

He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when you’re right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t believe I lost like that,” you groan. “Guess I need more practice.”

“We will practice,” he promises.

You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.

Like an insidious weed, Konig’s observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavish’s friendliness.

It’s almost like Nikto is hallucinating again – or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.

MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, he’ll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.

And it is not that he doesn’t acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.

A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and he’s leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.

One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before you’re set down and offered a chair.

And the sparring… the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. It’s become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.

And Nikto… Nikto burns.

This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.

He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldn’t just be selfish; it would be heresy. You’ve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy water…

And yet.

And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs “bonnie” or “hen” at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.

“How are you with a sniper, hen?” MacTavish asks one day.

You hum, glance over at Nikto. He’s been training you with his own rifle for months now – though it’s obviously been on pause since your injury. “Well, I’ve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.”

MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise I’m a good teacher.”

You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, “Yeah, maybe!”

Nikto can’t hang himself on an “almost,” but he’s gutted on a “maybe.”

That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. There’s a furrow between your brows that you only get when you’re both frustrated and worried; if it stays, you’ll have a headache within the hour.

“Nikto?”

He glances up from the knives he’s polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.

“Hm?” he prompts.

You don’t answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you don’t stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair he’s in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.

He’s trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasn’t seen in them before. Doesn’t know how to name or how to tame.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

He jerks back in surprise, but you’ve got a solid grip and there’s nowhere to go.

“Did I… do something?” you ask. “Or… or not do something?”

He stares. “What?” he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Your eyes are still darting between his, like you’ll find answers playing peekaboo between them.

“You haven’t been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,” you explain. “I’ve been giving you space to tell me, but you won’t. And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.”

Now his brows furrow. “I haven’t been…?”

You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention – as if that isn’t guaranteed.

“You’re not eating the same. Didn’t even take the green beans I put aside for you,” you say. “You’re not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, you’re wearing your mask in our room.”

It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.

“And you’re not… you’re not talking to me.” Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. “I know we don’t talk the normal way but… I haven’t been able to read you. You won’t look me in the eye or press our legs together. You’re even pulling away in your sleep.”

His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.

“So… if I’m doing something or not doing something… you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset. I just miss you.”

He crumbles.

Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.

You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows he’s aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“моя любовь,” he whispers fervently. “моя надежда. моя богиня.”

You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.

“I fear,” he rasps into your skin.

“Fear what?” you ask.

He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished – and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you won’t ask him to.

“You are not mine, but I fear losing you,” he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. “If not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.

“I am yours,” he whispers, lungs burning, “and I cannot be that if you are gone.”

You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if you’re not inviting him inside your ribcage.

“I thought you understood,” you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knew…”

You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.

Your eyes are shiny, but there’s a smile on your face when you look at him.

“You’re mine,” you assure him, “you will always be mine. I will never turn you away.”

His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. You’ve said it; it is so.

“I’m yours too, Nikto.”

His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.

“Our love isn’t a cross for you to bear,” you murmur. “I belong to you the same way – the exact same way – that you are mine.”

“I don’t—”

“You remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?”

Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.

Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.

You’ve said it; it is so.

“Here.”

You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.

“What are you—”

You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but it’s too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, you’re grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.

“C’mon,” you coo. “Do it again.”

He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.

You are his. You are his.

To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.

You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.

You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.

He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.

You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up… until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips – likely ruining your little sleep shorts – and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.

“Yours,” you murmur against his mangled mouth.

“Yours,” he repeats.

The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Nikto’s fingers hooked into your belt loops. There’s a single black smudge on your jaw.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto #nikto's commandments

931 notes · View notes

temptaetions · 3 months

Text

cinnamon sugar 🌙 k.sm (m)

a/n: the photo above is from seungmin's instagram. i don't own the media, but i sure was blessed to see it. anyway, i think this is my first post with like...actual smut in it. please forgive me, because it is so shitty, i'm so bad at writing it. anyway, uhm, enjoy! my anon ask is now on, if you'd like to send any requests in!

synopsis: her lips taste sweet, like cinnamon sugar...she's such a treat.

pairing(s): best friend!kim seungmin x virgin!reader

word count: 6k. lowercase intended.

rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

warning(s): swearing, mutual pining, a lot of emotional turmoil from both parties, horribly written smut [between k.sm x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, soft d/s themes, (slight) overuse of pet names (angel, sweetheart) oral (f. receiving), paragraphs of praise, so much kissing, some grinding, the lightest amount of nipple play. riding/missionary, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, they stare into each others eyes and hold hands while fucking oh my god]. this is slightly self indulgent but the guilt i feel after writing it, and so badly at that, is overwhelming.

what to listen to: gaze - sweetback | eat it - megan thee stallion | agora hills - doja cat | real love - mary j. blige | whatta man - salt-n-pepa & en vogue

message from: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:32pm] i’m coming to pick u up, i want a cinnabon.

message to: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:33pm] ur paying 🤑

"can i get aux?" you say as you slide into seungmin's car. the leather of the passenger seat was cool to the touch, a sign that nobody had sat in your self-assigned seat. "hello to you too, best friend. how was my day? oh, it was lovely! it's so nice to see you, too!" "oh, shut up, min. you don't give a shit if i ask those questions or not." you chuckle, snatching his aux cable out of the center console. "you know me so well, fuck. i hate small talk. just merge souls with me." you and seungmin had been best friends for over ten years. he knew you inside and out - from your scalp to the bottom of your feet (including the scar from his razor scooter slamming into your ankle at age sixteen.)

you shared a lot of interests, but none as intense as your love of music and cinnamon rolls. he was always at your dance recitals. your biggest fan, really. he cheered, but never showed you more praise than necessary.

"i need you to stay humble, it helps me tolerate you." he murmured into your hair after one recital last year. you just shook your head in amusement, holding it high as you let him march you to his car for dinner.

"oh, i updated our playlist! i have a few new things on here." you said excitedly as you scrolled through the playlists on your homepage. you shared this love language – you had dozens of collaborative playlists with user ksm922, and you giggled at the ugly photos of the two of you he often used for the covers.

"sure." he shrugs, using his pinky to turn the volume dial up. your eyes trail on his slender fingers as they return to the wheel, but you shake it off just as quickly. pressing play, you let the smooth r&b sounds fill the car.

"oh, this is nice. what is this?" seungmin nods his head along to it, and you glance at the screen. "gaze by sweetback. it played on my sade station, and the vibes are just so kim seungmin, yanno?" you close your eyes and fake being a disc-jockey, his hand coming to pinch your arm lightly, a chuckle playing on his lips. "stop that, you'd be a horrible deejay."

"are you sure this isn't about sex? geez, bub, act like you get some." he teases, and you swat his arm. "i do get some!" "oh yeah? from who?" his eyes are trained on the road as he bullies you about your sex life (or lack thereof), allowing you a moment to stare at his ringed fingers. oh, the way they gripped the wheel, they could so easily grip your neck–

shut up, y/n.

"your mom." you huff, crossing your arms with a pout. you hated this conversation, and you often avoided it with him. yes, seungmin was your best friend, but you never wanted to talk about your sex life with him. he had experiences…and you heard from so many people how good it was.

with him, to be specific.

"what are we, thirteen? you wish my mother would breathe in your direction, you fucking virgin." he scoffs, and you force a snicker out. you glance at your phone, a smirk threatening to escape as it started. "oh, this one is good. turn it up!" he obliged, not even giving the screen a second look.

you settle in your seat as megan thee stallion's voice blares through the speakers, muffling a soft laugh behind your hand. seungmin hated the idea of you being a sexual being, and you often used it to bother him. you liked seeing him get red in the face, and squirm. it doesn't mean you understood it, but it was hilarious.

legs shakin', hit it 'til the bed breaking…bed springing, talk to it…

seungmin's mouth is agape, his cheeks firetruck red…

i don't want just one nut, daddy, i need the whole tree, ah…

…before his nimble fingers press skip.

"are you serious, y/n? in my christian minecraft server?" his eyes are still fixed on the road, his knuckles turning white from his hold on the steering wheel. weird.

"it's megan! i love her, she's the hot girl coach. you don't want me to be a virgin forever, do you?" you joke, and he scrunches his nose. "since when do you listen to music about getting your…ugh, whatever. don't ever bring up sex appeal, you repulse me." you laugh loudly, your hand going to pinch his cheek softly. "you're so cute when you get flustered, min. here, i'll play pretty boy by the neighbourhood in your honor."

he can't stop thinking about it. it's been four hours since you played the song in the car, and it's still stuck in his head. well, what he did hear.

you, inherently, did not come across as a sexual being. you didn't, and that wasn't seungmin being just a platonic, nice friend – you genuinely did not care to be the core of anyone's sexual desire. you wore oversized shirts and loose jeans, the occasional dress paired with black pantyhose and boots. "gotta hide my ankles, minnie. that's how they getcha." but thinking about you…listening to that song? your hips winding down on some other man like he's seen you do on stage? hell, some other man's face when he's right here?

it made him sick.

and you were so beautifully unaware as you swirled your fork in your cinnamon roll, bringing the tines to your lips and sucking the icing clean off them. not a second lick or adjustment, just straight off. he felt his cheeks heat as his cock twitched in his pants, and he almost missed you waving your fingers in his face. "yo, you good? you seem distracted." you have a bit of icing on your lip, and he subconsciously reaches over to wipe it off. your eyes are wide as he does so, and he doesn't know why he can't move his thumb from your lip. he doesn't know why everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and he just watches as you instinctively suck your lip between your teeth at the loss of contact.

you're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty.

"i'm good. do you want to go?" he's surprised to hear his own voice, and you nod absently. he was acting weird, he knew he was, but he feels like there's a fog in his brain that he can't shake. maybe it was the way he'd memorized every curve of your body, from watching your fluid dances. maybe it was the way that you smiled so innocently, you were so innocent. your eyes big and pure, your heart full, your mind…naïve.

he didn't understand the sudden urge to ruin you, but he knew he had to get over it, and fast.

"fuck." he groans, and your head whips around to look at him. "you okay?"

he nods quickly, his hand landing on the small of your back to guide you to the car faster. "min, if you have to shit, you can just say that." "ugh, shut up. you always say the most unhinged shit. no wonder you can't get laid." he rolls his eyes, and you just laugh. "trust me, it's not for lack of opportunity." you let him open the door for you, and you wink at him playfully, his fingers flicking your forehead before shutting the door. it was true, multiple of your friends had offered to…deflower you. hyunjin, on your dance team. minho, on your production team. felix, your choreographer. even their friends in the music department had offered, and you simply smiled, shaking your head at them. "i just like to flirt, your dick is your problem."

but much like seungmin, they had all seen the way you moved. how easily you sunk to your knees, how smooth your gyrations were, the way you looked like you enjoyed it. you felt good knowing people were attracted to you, but it never compared to what you believed was seungmin's innocent gaze.

it was weird to want more from him, and it pained you, slightly. he was cute, your best friend. cute, experienced, and he knew you. he knew you so well, what could go wrong? he could reject you, that's what.

you're in your own head when you realize the car has been moving, and rather fast, at that. "min, seriously. are you shitting your pants?" you roll your eyes, and he brings the car to a screeching halt. "bro, your brakes." you cringe, covering your ears as he pulls into his driveway.

"are you going to kill me? no way, jisung always said i'd go out this way. please, tell my mother i love her and make sure i get the best spot in heaven." you feign terror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, not noticing the way seungmin can't even look at you. you feel how hard he slams his door, and you give his car a pitiful look as you slide out, following him to his apartment. he lived on the first floor, what a privilege.

he doesn't look at you as he walks into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. "y/n, i have a question."

"oh? mr. attitude has a question, does he?" you smile sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, the cowhide leather of the letterman you stole from him in high school rough against your skin. "alright, let's hear it." "why are you still a virgin?" okay, not what you were expecting. don't let it fluster you. you don't really notice his hardened expression as you try to answer. "well…it's just not on my list of priorities. i'll get fucked when i get fucked, you know?"

you shrug, not thinking much of your answer as he steps closer. "hm, i don't buy it."

raising an eyebrow, you shake your head, unbuttoning the jacket. "you're acting so weird, seungmin. if you wanna fuck me, just say that."

you sound surprisingly confident, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you slide the jacket off, draping it over the couch. you gather your hair forward, spinning to speak to him again. "did you still want to watch the mov-" you're cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. you can't move, your hands frozen as he works you carefully, lips burning against your own. his movements feel desperate, and you let your body take over as you kiss him back, a soft sigh escaping his lips as your tongue slips between them. the kiss is hungry, his hands are digging into you so deeply you're sure you'll bruise.

he stops. his fingers let go of your hips, and he pulls away, your lips chasing after his as he does. your lip gloss is glittering on his face, before he covers his eyes. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i have no idea what came over me, i…i'm sorry, please, let me take you home."

you can't speak, your mind still swirling with endorphins. your best friend of ten years just made the biggest move on you, and without a word, you managed to fumble it. no way. absolutely not.

"sorry for what? i'm not understanding." you suddenly feel very vulnerable, your skin littering with goosebumps at the sudden change in the air. "i'm perfectly fine with…whatever you were doing."

seungmin peers back at you through dark eyes. "no, y/n. we can't." he swipes his keys off the table, and you huff. "and why can't we, seungmin? what is so bad about kissing me?" his eyes are wide as you ramble, and it's all word vomit. you can't seem to stop it, but he's drinking every word.

"what is it? am i a bad kisser? is it because i'm a virgin? i don't think it's very fair that you can openly admit to being other girls' firsts but you can't even do that for me. you haven't even offered. i'm not saying you fucking have to, because you're my best friend and you always will be. but holy fuck, seungmin, i'm trying to get some. you said i should, so why not be the one i get it from?"

you're out of breath, and seungmin just shakes his head as he takes one, two steps back in front of you. "you think i don't want to be your first? you think i don't want you all to myself, to ruin you for anyone else? you think i don't want to fuck you stupid, until all you know is my name? are you hearing yourself right now?"

"you're certainly not acting like it. it doesn't have to mean shit, seungmin. it's just sex." you roll your eyes, leaning on the couch. "it's not just sex, y/n. this is a huge step for you, for us. our friendship is on the line, and i don't want to do something you might regret later." you shake your head, and he hates when you get stubborn like this, you won't listen to reason. "still not seeing the issue here. i lose my virginity and gain some experience for the next guy, you get your dick wet. we go to bed, and we act like it didn't happen in the morning. you take me home, we listen to our playlists on the way there, and we go about our days."

he flings his keys onto the floor, his hands reaching to hold your face. he tucks a few strands behind your ears, fingers lovingly caressing your pierced lobes before he looks you dead in the eyes. "y/n, if i give you what you want tonight, there is no chance in hell you're going to fuck someone else."

you stare back at him silently, your eyes darting to his lips before your tongue peeks out to wet your own. it's not the worst thing in the world, being with seungmin. it could be good…and not just the sex. he knows you, you know him…his lips felt like they were made for you. they always had, since your drunken kiss on christmas eve.

"you say that like it's a threat." you challenge, and he bites back a smile, nodding his head. his hand has traveled to your hip, his other still holding your face when his nose touches yours, his breath hitting your lips. "if you want me to stop at any point, just let me know. understand, sweetheart?"

you nod, leaning forward to connect your lips. he pulls back, shaking his head. "i need to hear you say you understand."

"jeez, seungmin, i understand. i get it, can we please move this along?" you're not the least bit embarrassed as you whine against him, and he lets you kiss him. your lips are eager, your hands carding through his hair as he licks into your mouth. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, a soft moan interrupting it as he gives your clothed breast a gentle squeeze, his thumb working over your pebbled nipple. "min, i…" "what, tell me what you want, sweetheart." his lips trail down your jaw, nipping along your exposed neck carefully. your whines are like heaven to him, "n-need you.." "aw, you need me? need me where?" he's loving this, the way you squirm under his lips, under his nimble fingers. you push your chest into him involuntarily, "h-here. please?"

you grab his wrist, a wave of confidence taking over as you guide his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers are cool against your clothed heat, a soft wet patch forming on the fabric. his eyes are wide as he instinctively lets his hand run over the spot, watching as you flinch, lip caught between your teeth. he presses hard against you, a gasp falling from your mouth. "i haven't even touched you, and look at how wet you are for me. a little pathetic, hm?" "'m’ yours, minnie. always, always been yours." you don’t mean that, he thinks. he's letting you grind against his hand, his gaze transfixed on your face. your brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut as you used his hand to get yourself to the edge. his cock twitches at the little pants falling from your lips, when he decides he's had enough. you nearly cry at the loss of contact, his hand escaping the confines of your plush thighs. "minnie-" "if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my face. let's go, sweetheart." he tugs you towards his bedroom, your legs weak as you try not to stumble behind him. "bed. on your back."

he's pulling his sweater over his head, and you nearly coo at his messy hair in your fucked out state. he feels a flush coat his cheeks as you lay there, waiting for him to tug your pants off. hooking his fingers in your waistband, you lift your hips to make it easier, and he slides your underwear and sweatpants off in one go. you suddenly feel shy, closing your legs.

"ah, ah. it's just me, sweetheart. do you want to stop?" his hands move to your knees, the cool metal of his rings sending a soft shock to your spine. "no, i'm…okay. i'm just nervous." "it's okay, angel. i got you, don't worry." he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose…lips. he lingers there a bit, but doesn't let it deepen as he runs his hands down your legs. his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart for him to settle between. you're soaking, the heat of his stare making anxiety bubble in your stomach. "fuck, you're going to be the death of me." his lips press soft, chaste kisses along your inner thigh, nipping carefully as you mewl. "minnie, please..i..please…" you end in a whimper, and who is he to deny you when you beg so nicely? he buries his nose in your pussy, bumping your clit as he lets his tongue drag through your folds, collecting your sweet, sweet arousal on his face. your hand flies to his hair as his lips suck on your clit, thighs threatening to close around his head. he doesn't care, he'd die a happy man right there between your legs.

"f-fuck, seungmin, ah! right there, holy f-fuh.." you're shaking around his head, bucking your hips into his face as gently as you can muster. he loves it, but he can't tell you that as he drowns in the scent of you, the obscene sounds of his tongue against you paired with your pretty whimpers ensuring he'd probably cum in his pants. "oh, b-baby i'm gonna.."

his hand reaches for yours, interlacing your trembling fingers with his, his other hand massaging your thigh in encouragement. he can barely bring himself to talk, a soft moan of his against your clit sending you over the edge, a soft cry of his name echoing in the room. "that's it, good job angel. you did so well for me, hm?" he's still lapping at you, not wanting to miss a single shiver or whimper from your body. "s'always that good? min?" he peers up at you from his spot between your legs, your lips parted as you blink, a tear rolling down the side of your face. he moves up to wipe it away, but you take his hand in yours, kissing his palm softly. "you okay? we can stop." he presses his forehead against yours, not able to process your cute gesture without wanting to bawl. you nod, a lazy smile crossing your lips as you reach to kiss him. "m'all good, minnie. do you…want me to help you?"

you can feel his clothed cock pressing against your leg, practically begging to be set free, and you teasingly buck up against it. he inhales sharply, shaking his head, "i want tonight to be about you. i want to make sure you feel good, okay? are you sure you want to continue?" "yeah, m'all yours." you sigh against his lips, a chaste kiss from you to him. "can i take this off, sweetheart?" he yanks lightly on your shirt, and you nod. you help him tug it over your head, your fingers reaching backwards to unclasp your bra. he feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as you lay beneath him, for him, in all your glory. every curve he's imagined just as gorgeous. "you're staring, it's making me shy." your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "no, no, fuck, you're gorgeous. look at you, oh my god, i.." he trails off, his hands resting on your tummy. "you just went down on me, and you're short-circuiting over my tits, kim?" your teasing is not helping his brain, but the attitude brings him back to reality. "you know that's not all it is, stop it." he rolls his eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. it's soothing, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. he dips his head between your breasts, trailing open mouthed kisses all over your chest and stomach. "you're so beautiful. i'm literally the luckiest person in the entire universe." he's mumbling to himself mostly, but you feel soft tears prick at your eyes. his lips latch around one of your nipples, a gasp from you making him pull off with a pop. "can i…are you sure you want this, y/n? i really, really don't want you to regret this."

you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs lightly padding over his cheeks. "i want you, entirely. in this life, in the next life. okay? i got you, don't worry." you echo his words back to him, and he bites his lip, a hint of something in his eyes as he pulls back to unbuckle his pants. kicking them off quickly, you wait until he straightens to take a peek.

the rumors were true. he's thick, his tip a soft mauve. your mouth is watering at the sight, when a snap of his fingers catches your attention. "eyes up here, sweetheart. i want you to look at me, can you do that?"

you nod, a shy smile on your lips as he goes to spread your knees again. "no, wait, minnie…" he feels his heart skip a beat at your voice, eyes flickering to yours in concern. "i…can i be on top? i read that…it can be better that way." you swallow thickly, and he feels the tips of ears burn but a smile grazes his features. "you studied for sex?"

any awkwardness is gone. you scoff, a light smack landing on his arm. "forgive me for wanting to be in control."

"you want to be in control? okay. fine, but you won't last long." he shrugs, sliding onto the bed behind you, eyes taking in the curve of your ass before you turn. "lay back, asswipe." "watch the attitude, or i'm shutting this shit down." he says, eyes serious as you feel your cheeks heat. you watch as he gets comfortable on his pillows, and you crawl over to him, your hands brushing against his sides as you straddle him. "we can go as slow as you want, okay?" his words are reassuring as his hands reach for your thighs, and you nod.

you take a deep breath, lightly letting your cunt drag along his length, his tip bumping your clit. you shiver, a buzz going up your legs as he takes your hips in his hands, manually guiding you over his cock. "did you read about this too?"

"shut up." you roll your eyes, his hands holding you in place. he looks…so convincing like this. like everything will go back to normal after this, like everything will be the same. he'll still be your best friend, and you'll still be desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. it's overwhelming, and you just bite your lip, shaking your head. "you're staring." "your dick is twitching, but i'm not saying shit." scoffing, you take him in your hand gently, lining him up with your aching center. you sink down slowly, the tip barely swiping your entrance when you grimace, a hiss escaping your lips as you screw your eyes shut. "i know, angel. here, let me help you." seungmin pulls you closer, his back against his headboard, careful not to pull out. you watch as his hand snakes between the two of you, his thumb softly circling your clit, your eyes threatening to close. "eyes open." you oblige, feeling a gush of arousal at his command, and you have no room to feel embarrassed when he begins to shallowly fuck into you, matching the pace of his thumb. your eyes are glossy as you move your hands to hold onto the headboard, your chest flush to his face. he kisses your shoulder, your soft whimpers music to his ears.

"deeper? or stay like this?" he asks, voice shaking slightly, the warmth of your pussy almost staggering. it's humiliating how worked up you have him, but you need to stay humble. it helps him tolerate you. "d-deeper, is okay."

his arms wrap around your waist tightly, slowly pulling you down further, a whine escaping your throat as your hands move to his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. he's trying not to cum from the way your pretty cunt swallowed him so perfectly, taking him so well. made for him, just him. "m'so full, minnie." you clench around him, and it takes all his willpower not to finish. he's not far, he's practically seeing stars…but the way you're looking at him, you're so pretty, so ready to cry over his cock. he needs to drag this out as long as he can.

"y-you can move, if you want. p-please, want to feel you." you're pleading, he knows. he swallows, confidence wavering as he nods, slowly thrusting up into you, the squelch immediately catching his attention, eyes tearing from yours. he watches the way you take him, your body begging to be ruined by him. he moves a little faster, your mind beginning to blur as he falls into a rhythm.

your nails are digging into his shoulders, your lip caught between your teeth as his hips rock against yours. his eyes flicker back to your face, and you manage a quick wink. he feels his cheeks burn beet red as he looks away. he feels like such a fucking virgin, when he is the one that's your first, not the other way around. pretty girl on his lap and he can't even look at you.

he wishes you had been his first, too, and he wishes you would have asked him sooner. you're so smart, you're so gorgeous, your lips taste like cinnamon sugar. fuck, he loves you. you're his best friend, you feel so good around him and you know him so well. he loves you, so fucking much.

his hips come to a slow, your moan drawing out as he drags his cock against your walls at an agonizing pace. "'still want to be in control, angel?" his lips press to your clavicle, and you nod against his neck. "will you tell me if it's good?"

he pulls you back, hand coming up to caress your face. "how could it not be, when it's you?"

you don't say a word, allowing his lips to meet yours in a chaste kiss. he slumps a bit, and you maneuver so his back is almost flat on the bed, and you try not to moan as the movement makes his cock hit you just right. "whenever you're ready, just use me how you want to." you feel a flutter in your stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips, your hands flat on his side. raising your hips, your thighs tremble as you start a rhythm, bouncing on him carefully. he's watching you, the way you move so fluidly, like you're dancing. like you're enjoying him, using him, making his brain feel useless. he can't speak, just drinking in this picture of you he's never going to get to see again after tonight, taking in your throaty moans.

"m-minnie?" your eyes are low, your hands moving to his chest, pushing your breasts together. fuck, you are art. "y-yeah?"

he can't even focus as you whimper, clamping around him like a vice, moving slightly faster. "m'close, i can't..i.." you're still looking at him, and he can't. he can't take it, using his strength to flip you on your back. he interlaces your fingers, pinning your hands above you as he roughly fucks into you, sharp cries falling from your lips.

his head dips, lips dragging along your jaw as he whispers in your ear. "this is where you belong. under me, begging for me. got it?"

you feel chills cover your body as you nod, "y-yes, god, yes." "good girl." he's so unsure of himself, he's so afraid he'll scare off your high but he needs to know. "did you mean what you said earlier?" he's speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the gloss in your eyes.

"hmm?" your brows furrow, your bitten lips slightly agape as his thrusts become sloppy, and he just shakes his head, opting to kiss you instead. hoping it'll help the knot in his stomach go away, hoping it will help you forget he asked. you can't help but pant into his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips. "you can let go, sweetheart. you did so well for me, yeah? i got you." you don't register how tightly you squeeze his fingers, or how deeply you're kissing him as you feel the white hot sensation rip through you. he's drunk off you, and you can feel him spurting inside you, his cum trickling out of you as his thrusts come to a slow, slow, stop.

but he doesn't, his lips don't. he can't stop kissing you, he doesn't want to talk. he doesn't want to tell you how you made him feel, how he can never see you the same again. he doesn't want to watch you walk out of his apartment tonight and possibly never be able to talk you again. he doesn't want to ever, ever hear about you doing this with some other guy, but he made his bed.

your thighs are trembling around him, and you tug your fingers out of his grasp, pulling as far away from his mouth as you physically can. he pouts, chasing after them, only stopping when your eyes blink slowly at him.

"you alright?" his voice is soft, almost scared. you nod, swallowing thickly as you look away, tears forming in your eyes. "ah, talk to me, y/n. it's okay." "i meant it. what i said, earlier. i…don't know why i said it, i never planned on saying it. i'm sorry if it's going to make things awkward." you feel a tear escape, your hand quickly pawing it away. "awkward? with you? it’s not possible." he murmurs, and you glance at him, but he's staring at the pillows above your head.

"but you don't feel the same way." you say, almost as if you're trying not to hurt your feelings by letting your own words reject you, instead of him. he shifts, and you realize he's still inside you. he props himself up on his elbows, hands holding his head up as he peers at you. "you think i don't?"

"i know you don't." you laugh coldly, and he smiles. "yeah, miss sex expert? you know everything? did you read that, too?"

"ugh, stop. i'm never telling you anything again." you're becoming increasingly aware of your nudity, and seungmin can feel the hot flame of shame creeping up his back. he shakes his head, hating the way his blushing cheeks burn so bright. "i want you to tell me everything, forever. i love knowing you, i love trusting you. i'm glad you trusted me with this."

you can't look at him. his hand moves to make you look at him, fingers lightly squeezing your jaw. "and i meant what i said, too. you can't fuck anyone else. only i can see you like this, okay?"

his eyes are searching your face, watching you attempt to nod. "and…" he sighs, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "and i love you. i love your smile, and how you laugh when you play sex songs in the car. i love when we split cinnamon rolls, because you always try to take the bigger piece as if i won't just let you have it. i love when you say my name because it rolls so nicely off your tongue. i love how you move so effortlessly, and how you remember every little thing about anyone, ever. i love that you're funny, and you're so passionate. i love that you're so smart, far too smart to think that i wouldn't sell my soul to live an eternity by your side." his voice is trembling, and your eyes are wide and full of tears, full of adoration, of love for the stupid boy hovering above you.

"i love you, please. please say you're mine." his tears spill, and your lips part, a soft sob escaping as you pull him close, the cool metal of his necklace dragging against your damp skin. "i'm yours, always. i'm yours, i'm yours, i'm yours. i love you." you mumble against his lips, your tears mixing with his on your cheeks.

"thank fuck, i was about to end it all thinking about you doing that fucking trick on someone else." he mutters, and you snort as he buries his face. "that wasn't in the article, funnily enough. it just felt like the right thing to do. think if i pierced my clit, it'd feel better for you?" you ponder aloud, and he nips at your skin.

"don't even start, i haven't even pulled out." he groans, and you laugh loudly. "you're so pretty." he pouts, and rolls his eyes as they start filling with tears, your hand quickly wiping the ones that spilled. "is this going to happen every time? i kind of hate it."

"god, i hope so. i love seeing you like this for me." you tease, and he scrunches his nose. "shut up. stay humble, it's the only way i tolerate you." he nuzzles his nose back into your neck, and you let him stay there, carding your fingers through his hair.

"y/n?"

"yes, seungmin?" "i'm yours, you know that?"

"mmm, i do now. just mine?" "just yours. always." he nods as he pulls himself off you, placing a kiss on your temple, before brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. "someone has to fuck the attitude out of you, and i'm so glad it's gonna be me." you feel your skin heat at his words, and you smack him lightly. he gives a playful thrust, making you gasp before slowly pulling out. "you're off the hook for now, my angel. let's get you cleaned up." he doesn't stop kissing your face in the shower, or when he's shampooing your hair. he doesn't stop kissing your shoulders as he towels you dry, or your tummy when he works lotion into your skin. he can't keep his hands off you, even when you say you need to put clothes on. he can't get enough of the burn of your skin against his, and moves as fast as a human possibly can stripping the sheets off his bed and replacing them.

he can't stop, and he won't stop kissing you, splitting cinnamon rolls with you, or singing sex songs in the car. he can't stop, and he won't stop, supporting you at your recitals and fucking you stupid as a reward. he can't stop, and he won't stop filling your cup until it's overflowing, making you laugh until you cry, and dragging moans of his name from your throat.

he can't stop, and he will never stop, loving you.

721 notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Text

Mouth To Mouth | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: The moment seemed all too perfect. You and Daryl had just confessed to each other and were sharing your first kiss with each other. It was too bad that your mom had terrible timing, and walked in at the wrong moment.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual innuendos.

A/n: Here's the long awaited (wanted by, like, two people) fic about what happened when the mom walked in. I hope y'all enjoy! I really hoped to have my ex!celebrity fic with Daryl ready, but my draft never saved and I lost 2000 words, and that really discouraged me, so I worked on this little fic instead. Also, if anyone would want it, I have so many personal headcannons for this universe, so if anyone wants to see them, let me know.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“Mom, please don't freak out. I can explain.”

Your mom raised her eyebrows at you, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked at the position you were in and nodded sarcastically, an amused smirk creeping onto her face.

“I'm sure you can,” she mused, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “This totally doesn't look like the two of you were just making out. You were just giving him mouth to mouth, right? Teaching him how to do CPR? Or you just slipped and happened to slam your lips against his.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl duck his head in embarrassment, his face flushed with a blush. You could feel heat creeping onto your cheeks as well, your mom's knowing stare penetrating into your soul. You knew that your mom probably didn't care that you and Daryl were kissing, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to pretend to go into "protective mom" mode. She loved doing it to embarrass you a little bit.

“Mom,” you drawled in embarrassment, sending her a pleading look. “Please don't.”

“What, I walk in to find my daughter and her friend chewing on each other's faces, which will probably scar me for life, but I can't lay down some guesses for what your explanation would've been? How's that fair?”

“Fine, yes, we were kissing, but you don't have to make such a big deal out of it. It's not like I haven't walked in on you getting busy with Mr Prescott,” you retorted defensively, sneaking glances at Daryl who remained silent, his eyes nervously flickering between you and the floor.

Your mom let out a small laugh and shook her head. “Touche, sweetheart,” she nodded, shifting her attention to Daryl. “Daryl, I'm not gonna bite your head off if you look at me.”

Daryl reluctantly rose his head, a nervous glint in his eyes. He was fidgeting with his hands, picking at the loose skin on his thumb and you had to resist the urge to take his hand in yours to stop the nervous gesture. You didn't want to give your mom more ammo to tease you with.

“There, that's better,” your mom mused, taking a step closer. “Now I can see those blue eyes of yours that my daughter wouldn't stop raving about. I'm honestly surprised that it took her this long to make a move. She's liked you for quite a while now. She would never shut up about you when you left.”

“Mom!” you complained, sending her an exasperated look. “Can we not?!”

Your mom simply let out another laugh. “What? It's adorable!”

“Mom, please,” you pleaded, sneaking another look at Daryl. His gaze had returned to the floor, but you didn't miss the small smirk that was on his face.

“Alright, alright. I'll lighten up,” she reluctantly agreed, turning around to grab something from the table. “Sorry to have interrupted your "totally not making out" session. I need to get back to work anyway. I forgot a folder my boss needed. But after today, I'm suspecting that this will become a regular thing, so I won't ever be forgetting folders or anything ever again. My eyes won't ever recover.”

“Goodbye, Mom!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands.

“Remember to use protection, kids! I'm not ready to be a grandma just yet,” your mom chuckled and left, leaving you and Daryl alone.

The air was charged with an awkward silence. You dared a look at him and saw him nervously fiddling with his hands, but the small smile from earlier still remained. He turned his head and locked eyes with you, his gaze holding a certain amount of mischief to it.

“So, ya have been ravin' 'bout me to yer mom?” he said with a hint of playfulness, finally breaking the silence between you. “Wha' have ya been sayin'? Ya been talkin' 'bout my rugged good looks? Dun' worry, by the way. I won't tell nobody tha' ya have a secret crush on me.”

You took one of the pillows from the couch and threw it at him. Daryl effortlessly caught it and laughed—not chuckled, but actually laughed—and dropped it down next to him. Before you could retort with a sarcastic remark, Daryl leaned forward and captured your lips with his, silencing any and all thoughts you had.

You returned the kiss easily. However, you pulled away after a few moments, lightly shoving him back with a playful smile on your face. You stood up and extended a hand to him, which he took without any hesitation. You pulled him up and lead him to your room, closing the door behind you. You gently urged him backwards and pushed him onto your bed, watching him comply easily.

A nervous look flitted across Daryl's eyes. You instantly caught it and gave him a reassuring smile, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

“Relax, pretty boy. We're not doing anything like that tonight,” you reassured him, stepping closer in between his legs. “My mom just caught us kissing. Do you really think I want to risk her walking in on something like that in the same night?”

Daryl exhaled a sigh of relief, looking up at you. “Then wha' are ya doin'?”

You smiled at him and gently urged him down, letting his body fully lay down and his head rest on the pillow. You got in on the other side and rested your head on his chest, getting comfortable against him. You felt him stiffen slightly, feeling his hand hover over your waist uncertainly.

“Relax, Daryl. We've cuddled before.”

“Yeah, but s'different now,” he whispered, his hand still hovering over your waist. “This ain't friend cuddlin' no more. S'couple cuddlin' now. I dun' wanna do anythin' to make ya uncomfortable.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss against his clothed chest, nuzzling your face deeper into it. “I'll tell you if you do, but you can touch me. I won't bite,” you assured him, feeling his hand finally rest on your waist before adding in a teasing manner. “Not unless you want me to.”

Daryl inhaled sharply, his grip on your waist momentarily tightening before relaxing again. “This gon' be a regular thing now? Ya teasin' the shit outta me?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Yer gon' be the death of me, girl,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “But I guess I'll allow it.”

“Good, because I'm not stopping. I love seeing you blush like that, handsome.”

“Stop,” he groaned, burying his face into your hair.

“Stop making you get all flustered like this?” you asked, shaking your head. “Not when it's this adorable.”

Before Daryl could say anything else, you rolled away from him, flicking off the lamp before settling into your side of the bed. You got comfortable, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, handsome.”

A few moments of silence passed, before you felt him shuffle behind you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, spooning you from the back. He pulled you closer to him, breathing in your clean scent before finally whispering something back.

“Night, beautiful.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #young!daryl dixon #young daryl dixon #young!daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #shopping spree hangout dreams

377 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 4 months

Text

an adjustment

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: adjusting to a new normal with frank presents a few challenges, including one you thought you had put to rest.

warnings: swearing, lil angst, frank's voice (yes that needs a warning)

word count: 2.6k

a/n: a certain someone is making a cameo that will have a bigger role in the next chapter, but y'all know I love to tease. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

As much as the two of you wanted to stay in the cozy little bubble that existed in his cabin, reality had come knocking. Madani informed you that your place was no longer an active crime scene decorated in bodies, bullets, and blood, and Billy needed Frank for a new assignment. Some guy running for Senator had a lot of controversial opinions that pissed a bunch of people off and apparently warranted 24/7 security, and Anvil was at the top of his list for protection. Since Frank was the best at what he did, unfortunately he was at the top of that list too. Adjusting to a new normal had been…well…just that; an adjustment.

A difficult, confusing, thought consuming adjustment.

For over half of the past year, Frank had been by your side. You started and ended every single day with him. The sudden absence of his presence was jarring, and you still found yourself immediately confused when you glanced up from your computer screen to tell him something only to realize he wasn’t there. Frank didn’t always talk a whole lot, but your office suddenly felt so much more quiet and empty without him. And despite a full blown security system installed by him on your behalf, it was hard for you to feel safe in your own home with the lingering scars of what had happened etched into the walls beneath a layer of new paint.

Frank called you at least once every day, just to hear your voice, but between both of your complicated schedules, time was not in your favor. You had spent the past three weeks adapting to Frank’s vacancy, but found yourself spiraling anytime you were left alone with your own thoughts. What if this was over before it had even really started? What if it wasn't anything anyway? There hadn’t been a moment for you and Frank to sit down and actually talk about what your relationship was since the cabin. You know what it meant to you, and you knew what you wanted it to mean to him, but you wanted to hear what it meant to him from his own mouth.

A part of you felt childish for wanting to bring it up. What were you supposed to do? Send him a text saying “are you my boyfriend, check yes or no”? Another part of you felt valid in needing reassurance. It was reasonable to want to establish a relationship with someone you were dating. But were you and Frank dating? He hadn’t technically asked you out on an actual date, but he had risked his life to save yours on several occasions. That had to count for something. You hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Steven, and Frank was not only a widower, but also your former bodyguard, so the normal rules of dating felt like they had been completely thrown out the window.

A knock at the door abruptly pulled you out of your chaotically indecisive inner monologue, and you saw a guy that appeared to be fresh out of high school standing in the doorway of your office.

“You Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. How can I help you?”

The kid took a few steps forward into your office and practically shoved a sealed brown envelope in your face. He looked bored and annoyed, as if you were somehow inconveniencing him because he had to deliver something to you. It made you want to make a snide comment about how your name was clearly listed outside your office door and ask how the hell he managed to graduate without the ability to read.

“This is for you.”

Reaching for the envelope, your brows pinched together as you turned it over. There was nothing written on the front of it, no address, no name, not even a stamp.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, lady. I’m just the messenger. Open it and find out.”

Before you could reply with a smartass comment, the kid had already walked out of your office, leaving you alone with the mysterious brown envelope. Clenching your jaw, you refrained from chasing him down the hall and asking who the hell raised him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you had to remind yourself that you were a grown woman that would face charges for decking a teenager, even if he was legal and a complete dick.

“Asshole.”

Muttering under your breath, you pinched the aluminum prongs together on the seal, flipping the top of the envelope open to reach inside and pull out a stack of documents. When you turned them over, five big bold letters instantly caught your attention.

LETTER OF INTENT TO SUE.

During your time as a journalist, people had threatened to sue you over stories several times. It came with the territory. The first time you had gotten a letter like this, you nearly had a complete meltdown. Ben had found it far more amusing than you did, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin on his face while sipping at his coffee and chuckling.

“Ah, I remember my first lawsuit letter. You get used to ‘em. You can either frame that one or forward that to the uh legal department. It’s in the blue recycling bin outside.”

And he had been right. People had tried to sue the paper, and you specifically, several times over the course of your career, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. You normally wouldn’t have thought twice about it, and you were about to toss it into the trash bin on the floor next to your desk when your eyes skimmed over who sent the letter, and your blood instantly began to sizzle.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Steven fucking Price.

Gritting your teeth harshly, you narrowed your eyes as you read over the first paragraph on the page.

This letter of intent to sue shall hereby be considered formal notice that STEVEN PRICE intends to file a lawsuit against you if you do not comply with the settlement demands set out in this letter.

The storm of anger brewing inside you had your hands shaking violently, and you were clutching onto the paper in your hands so tightly that your fingernails had left indents in the crinkled sides that were held captive in your vice grip. When Homeland took him away in custody, you thought that was the last you would ever have to deal with him or see him until the trial. But here he was, still making demands of you, from federal prison.

Frank’s gruff voice sounded on the other end of the line after one ring before you even realized you had called him.

“He’s fucking suing me.”

“What? Who?”

“Steven.”

There was a brief shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and you faintly heard Frank mutter an “excuse me” before his deep baritone sounded once again in your ear.

“The hell you mean he’s suin’ you?”

“Some kid came and dropped off an envelope, who was a real dick by the way, and then I opened it and saw it’s a letter of intent to sue. I didn’t think anything of it at first because I get these all the time, but then I saw his fucking name.”

“Suin’ you for what though?”

Tossing the documents onto your desk, you began to pace back and forth in your office as you ran your hand through the roots of your hair in pure frustration.

“I don’t fucking know, a load of bullshit? I didn’t even read what his ‘demands’ were. He can’t…he can’t do that, right? I didn’t do anything.”

Pausing for a second, your hysterical rant subsided momentarily as one possible reason for a lawsuit popped into your head.

“I mean…I did punch him in the face. But he’s going to sue me for that? There’s no fucking way. Putting it on public record that a girl half his size punched him? His ego couldn’t handle it.”

“You did break his nose.”

“He fucking deserved it, I should’ve broken more.”

Frank’s deep chuckle of amusement sounded from the other end of the line, and it instantly made you forget what you were so pissed about for a brief moment.

“I ain’t disagreein’ with you there. Look, take a deep breath, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you closed your eyes for a moment and enjoyed the soft tone of Frank’s rough voice as you followed his gentle instruction. With your eyes closed, it was almost like he was there with you. Once Frank could hear your breathing even out a bit on the other end of the line, he spoke in a delicately low tone that had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Attagirl. Send me the letter and I’ll talk to Madani ‘bout it, yeah?”

“I don’t even have a lawyer-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that right now, alright? Just take another deep breath, relax, and let me handle it.”

“You’re always handling things.”

“That’s kinda my job, baby.”

One little pet name and you were blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Thankfully Frank wasn’t in your office at that moment to see the intense heat in your cheeks and the goofy smile splitting your lips. He would’ve definitely had a field day teasing you about it.

“You’re pretty good at your job. Maybe a little too good. If you were kinda sucky at it, everyone wouldn’t want you so bad.”

“The only one I want bad is you.”

A fluttering feeling erupted in your lower belly at those words, coupled with the way his voice had dropped an impossible octave lower, and you found yourself clutching at the edge of your desk to keep your knees from giving out right from under you. If Frank was here, you would’ve gladly let him bend you over it.

Clearing your throat, you attempted to change the subject before you got too worked up.

“How’s the new guy?”

Grabbing the iced coffee sitting on your desk, you held it against the heated skin of your neck. Droplets of the cool condensation slowly cascaded down your flesh, causing you to shiver while trying to balance your internal temperature.

“Not as pretty as you.”

Letting out a soft snort, you rolled your eyes and leaned back against the edge of your desk.

“Well I would hope not.”

Frank chuckled deeply again, and you could clearly picture the look on his face in your mind; an expression of playful exasperation with a faint smirk on the edge of his soft lips.

“He’s more of a pain in the ass than you. Didn’t think that was possible.”

“You’re really great at this whole flirting thing, you know that?”

The dry sarcasm in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Frank, and it tore a deeper laugh from low within his chest that made you grin.

“Hey, I been outta practice for a while. Gimme a break.”

“Speaking of flirting, how’s Billy?”

“He’s uh…he’s good.”

Something about Frank’s tone suddenly seemed off, and you wanted to ask him about it, but there was a faint rustling on the other end of the line, like Frank was pressing the speaker against his chest, and you could barely make out his muffled voice speaking to someone. When he lifted his phone back to his ear, you caught the end of a deep sigh.

“Listen I uh…I gotta go, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That was a lie. You didn’t have anything pressing deadlines at the moment. You would’ve stayed on the phone for the rest of the day with Frank if you could’ve, maybe convinced him to sneak away and come see you. He was still in New York, luckily, but anywhere that wasn’t right next to you was still too far.

“Send me the letter. I’ll talk to Madani and take care of it, alright?”

“Okay. I…thank you.”

“You ain’t gotta thank me.”

“You keep saying that, but then you keep giving me reasons to. So, we can have this argument until eventually you give up I guess.”

Frank chuckled deeply once more, and you could picture him in your mind shaking his head with a light grin. He sounded normal again, but you made a mental note to ask him about what was really going on when you spoke to him next.

“Same time tomorrow then, yeah?”

»»———　　———««

According to Madani, Steven didn’t have a case, and you technically had nothing to worry about. However, you were admittedly curious about what the hell he wanted, and Frank had said that if you did want to go talk to Steven, he would go with you. Actually, he respectfully insisted that you not see Steven without him present, and while you didn’t want to see Steven at all, you did want to see Frank.

You suffered through almost three years with Steven. You could suffer another five minutes if it meant you got to spend time with Frank.

It wasn’t your first time visiting a prison. A few years ago when you were still working with Ben, he had been interviewing a death row inmate that had been declaring innocence for fifteen years, and Ben had managed to prove that the evidence for his case had been tampered with and that the man had been telling the truth the entire time. Despite how daunting it felt to be in a place that kept violent people caged like animals, you felt safe with Ben then, much like you did with Frank now.

Currently, you were pacing back and forth down the hallway in pure irritation.

“What is taking so long?”

Frank had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall outside of the meeting room that was typically reserved for inmates and their lawyers. The guard had said he would bring Steven in shortly, but that was twenty minutes ago. Since Frank had met you at the prison, and due to all the prying eyes, you hadn’t had a private moment to do more than smile at him when he arrived. It was the first time you were able to see him in person in three and a half weeks, and he somehow looked even more attractive than he ever had, and you were being forced to endure an interaction with your ex, who tried to have you killed, just to get Frank alone.

It was torture.

“Told ‘em we’re waitin’ on your lawyer.”

Pausing mid-step, you glanced over at Frank with a look of complete puzzlement.

“I don’t have a lawyer, I told you that.”

As Frank turned his head to look at you, he suddenly lifted his gaze to stare directly above your head as someone behind you caught his eye. He stood up straight and uncrossed his arms as he gestured with his chin in the direction behind you.

“You do now.”

With your brows knit in threads of confusion towards the center of your forehead, a light tapping sound behind you caused your ears to perk up, and you turned your head to find the source of the noise and Frank’s attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Matthew Murdock. I’m your attorney.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

513 notes · View notes

thelost-in-time · 11 months

Text

"Don't cry."

Suddenly, the empty spot next to you on the floor was empty no longer, and an arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you gently into a warm chest.

When you looked up, your tear filled eyes met the concerned gaze of your lover's.

"Here. I've got you some tissues, and some water."

Came the soft and gentle voice of your partner, their touch just as soft as they gently wiped your tears.

They pulled away for a moment, giving you some personal space, but they held the water to you.

"Please drink some water. Crying a lot makes you dehydrated, and I don't want you to get a headache."

Even if you tried to reject, they kept holding the water to you until you took at least a sip.

And once you drank a bit of water, they had a gentle smile on their face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"That's my love."

They sat with you in a few moments of silence, knowing that sometimes as long as you have someone by your side, speaking wouldn't be as important at times.

Just knowing someone was by your side was calming, to them anyway.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about it right now, but whatever it is that has you crying, you're not alone. I'm right here. Whether your insecurities are making you cry, whether you lost someone you love for, or any other reason. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I'll always be here. And I'll always love you. You're not alone. Lean on me."

They tell you with a gentle tone, glancing over at you, and as if to seal their promise, they pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"And if it is your insecurities, just know that I love each of your insecurities. Every single bit of you. You may be insecure of things, but I love those parts of you too. You're stunning. Inside and out, and I love you. You've helped me love my insecurities, and I will not hesitate to attempt to help you love your insecurities too. If it's something you can't change, like scars or anything else, then those insecurities are beautiful too."

They say softly, thinking to how you had comforted them in the past for their insecurities, things they found distasteful until you taught them to love their insecurities.

"But if that's not why you're crying, if you've lost someone, then I know this pain is great. It may feel like you'll never get over this, and I won't lie, it will hurt for a long time. But you don't have to deal with the pain alone. I'm here, you can rely on me. You don't have to deal with any of your problems alone. I'm here. I'll take care of you. You always take care of me, my love, so allow me to take care of you too."

And even if you didn't feel like it in the moment, your lover was determined to look after you in any way they could.

They wanted to see you genuinely happy, so they would not stop until you felt okay once more.

No matter how long it would take, a few weeks, months, years, or even a lifetime. They would always take care of you, no matter what.

Likes and reblogs are welcomed, and highly appreciated.

I needed comfort, so I wrote comfort. I genuinely hope this comforted you guys as well.

Sending hugs to everyone who needs it, along with a comfort pack of anything of your choice.

1K notes · View notes

starrystevie · 1 year

Text

it doesn't happen as a revelation. there's no jolting pain in his chest that sends steve reeling, no internal crisis that has him shaking on the bathroom floor, no shocking sense of guilt or desperation or fire licking in his veins. nothing that makes the world stop spinning and making him trip over his feet.

it's a normal moment when he realizes he's in love with eddie.

they're sitting in steve's car, ac blasting and music on low for once, waiting for a handful of the kids to get done with their final exams. they don't pick them up as much anymore and steve pointedly ignores how much he misses the times of carting them all around before mike started a ripple effect and got his license. but they're taking the kids to the lake after school to try and enjoy the last bits of non-suffocating sunshine before summer really hits, just like old times.

it isn't a revelation in the sense that it's some earth shattering event, but more like a moment of clarity. eddie's hair blows back for a second and he's blabbering about something from the dnd game he played the night before with his shop buddies with a wide grin and animated hands and the sun glints off the puckered pink scar on the side of his face in the most perfect way and he's beautiful and-

oh.

steve's vision seems clearer than it has in a while. his lungs feel a bit more shaky but not in a bad way, his heart stumbles against his ribcage like it's tripped over itself and the butterflies in his chest are the only things catching it. he laughs to himself because of course this has to happen when he wasn't expecting it, when he doesn't have a plan, but then eddie's looking at him and he knows he doesn't need one. not yet, anyway.

"you good, man?" eddie asks, eyebrows crinkled together and smirk on his face. he's painted golden in the afternoon sun, shining as bright as the north star. steve's always liked gold.

it's taken steve years to get here. the two of them have grown up together in the way that teenagers do while they figure out the roads laid out before them. they've learned each other's ins and outs through long nights and early mornings and everything in between. he knows his breathing, the way his footsteps sound, the smell of his aftershave, the feeling of his hands on his shoulders. it all comes together in this perfect package wrapped up in a perfect bow and for once, steve lets himself hope like he's a kid on christmas morning.

"yeah," he shakes his head to clear out the eddie-shaped stars in his vision, offers up a smirk of his own. it's taken years to get here so he still has time to do this right. "perfect."

#don't mind me just feeling like a ~hopeless romantic~ this fine tuesday morning #had to write it as an italicized oh moment don't mind that either #steddie #steddie hc #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet

2K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

7:28

this post by @footburn inspired me in that 'you must type this out before you can do anything else' way so here. this was literally from brain to computer in about 20 minutes.

rated m this is literally just the softest and sweetest fluff, with some implied sexual content discussed

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

"Eds."

"Hm?"

Eddie's sleepy voice whispered against Steve's ear, his breath sending a shiver down his spine.

Steve turned his head as his hand reached over to cup the back of Eddie's head, his fingers gently gripping the frizzy strands of hair sticking out.

"Gotta get up," Steve mumbled.

The alarm clock would be going off in two minutes, a stark reminder that the real world was just outside of their bedroom and unfortunately required putting on clothes and going to work.

If he could, he'd stay like this all day, every day, for the rest of their lives.

Next to Eddie, on top of Eddie, under Eddie, any way he could possibly have him. As long as the sunlight kept streaming through the window and the warmth of Eddie's soft, sleepy smile was in view, Steve would be happy.

"Mm-mm," Eddie shook his head once, nuzzling closer so his next exhale made Steve's eyes flutter closed.

"I have to open today."

Eddie's hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing once before falling away again.

"Stupid."

"What is, baby?" Steve smirked as he watched Eddie's brows furrow as he finally started to wake up.

"Work."

Eddie's eyes fluttered open.

The alarm clock switched to 7:29.

"Call out," Eddie's eyes blinked slowly.

"I can't. It's just me today. Robs would kill me."

"But it'll kill me to watch you get out of bed," Eddie pouted.

Steve sat up, leaning on his elbow, and looked down at Eddie.

Eddie looked back up at him with those wide eyes, bottom lip out like it would actually convince Steve to stay.

The alarm clock showed 7:30.

Steve reached over to shut off the alarm as soon as it started beeping.

He leaned down to kiss his head, then his heart tattoo, then the scar on his side.

"Pleeeease?" Eddie whined. "I have today off. We could sleep and not sleep."

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but want to give in.

They had so few days like this: where one of them didn't wake up screaming or crying from a nightmare, where they weren't in pain the moment their eyes opened, where someone wasn't needing them the moment the sun rose.

It was tempting to take advantage of this moment, of this day, see where it would lead if Steve just settled back down in bed, see if they were able to sleep for another couple of hours.

Maybe wake up with lips against skin, or hands against chests or thighs.

Maybe eat breakfast in bed and make more than one type of mess.

Maybe only get up to take a shower together, scrub off the stickiness of syrup and body fluids.

Or maybe they'd get a call in 15 minutes from Dustin, who should know better than to call before ten in the morning on weekends, but does anyway because he won't admit that he misses them.

Maybe Robin would show up to shove Steve out the door for the shift he's supposed to work, pissed that he'd even try to get out of it.

Maybe Wayne would finally remember to bring that cake recipe he found in an old family cookbook and insist on helping him make it since he knows the secret.

Or maybe Steve would kiss Eddie's lips once before getting up and doing the thing he doesn't want to do today so they can enjoy their peace tomorrow.

Maybe Steve can look at the alarm clock that now reads 7:31 and think about how sometimes love is getting out of a cozy bed and going to work so you have money to pay for those concert tickets that are gonna be the best birthday present he's ever gotten.

"Love you so much, Eds," Steve whispers as he pulls away from Eddie's mouth, already longing for another kiss.

"Love you too, sweetheart. Bring ya lunch?" Eddie's eyes were getting heavy again as he turned his head into the sheets, breathing in the scent of Steve, of them.

"See you then."

At 7:32, Steve managed to go into the bathroom to shower and get ready for his day.

At 7:56, Steve kissed Eddie's forehead as he slept, careful not to wake him.

At 8:02, Steve left a note for Eddie on his way out the door, the same note he wrote for him every morning, left on his favorite mug so he wouldn't miss it when he made his coffee.

Love you, miss you, want you - your Stevie

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #this art has me feral #clearly #i stopped mid assignment to do this

798 notes · View notes

kingcrow01 · 5 months

Text

DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

#dc #marvel #dc x marvel #fic rec #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #ao3

529 notes · View notes

updownlately · 7 months

Text

if you’re gonna waste my time (let’s waste it right)

| leah williamson x reader | hurt/comfort | 3.3k | disclaimer: mentions of anxiety, self loathing, negative thoughts, and depression -this delves into some slightly heavy topics so please read at your own discretion! | a/n: got this ask a while back and an idea struck to me while driving! first fic in a while that i've written in one sitting so let's see how this goes! honestly started off really strong but then idk where we went. anyways, not proofread as usual, but happy reading! take care amigos! and just know that each of you are loved, cared for, and cherished by those around you, even if you don't know it! 🫶

~~~

Fight, flight, or freeze.

They say that every human has these three survival instincts built in.

Instincts meant to protect, to escape, but most importantly, to survive.

Responses meant to make sure that one would make it out of harm’s way, preferably unscathed.

Fight, the mechanism that evoked adrenaline. That helped you battle your way through the toughest of encounters.

That did its best to make sure you were well equipped to tackle any scuffle, minor or major, to the best of your ability.

Flight, the mechanism that helped you run- escape before you couldn’t anymore.

The one that ensured that you got out before you could be attacked- before you could be hurt.

And then of course, freeze.

Rooted to your spot, immobile as harm directed itself towards you, one only praying that you could be so still that harm skipped right past you, practically avoiding you as you let it pass.

Freeze, that left you with a pounding heart, blood rushing in your ears.

Freeze that meant you couldn’t move, body rigid, feet planted, mind stopped in time.

Freeze that kept you stuck. stuck in an endless loop of agony, of shaky breaths, of paralyzing fear.

Freeze, considered the weakest of the three.

So as you stood there, eyes wide, muscles tense, body frozen, you cursed your mind and body with all that you could, wondering why of the three instincts, freeze was what you had done in order to try and survive.

~~~

There’s something terrifying about the voices that ring in your head.

How they so scarily sound similar to the people in your life, past and present.

Voices reminding you how you aren’t good enough. How you’ve let them down. How maybe if you weren’t there, the world would be okay. That it would move on without a hitch, without a second thought, because when it came to it, at the end of the day, maybe, just maybe, you didn’t really matter anyways.

Voices that sounded like your mother, reminding you of dark nights of you hidden in your room, the harsh words ringing in the four walls of your bedroom, what was supposed to be your safe haven, now tainted with feelings of regret, of disappointment, of outright disgust.

It’d be better if you didn’t exist.

Voices that sounded like your father, angry yells late into the night, enough smashed dishes that left your hands littered with scars that’d never cease to remind you, enough nights spent under your covers silently wiping tears as you prayed that you were quiet enough.

What a waste of air.

Voices that sounded like past coaches and management that knocked you back with each word spoken, each push forward sending you feet yards back, support that felt like hindrance more than anything.

You’d be lucky if you got to play past the little leagues. It’d be a miracle that’s for sure.

Voices that sounded like fans- people that were meant to support you- but you couldn’t force them to. Hundreds if not thousands of comments left, each asking for you to be traded. Hell, they’d take a sack of potatoes if nothing else.

I can’t believe that we wasted our money on this. Can’t we just, I don’t know, get rid of her? She’s the reason we suck. Maybe if she was half a decent player we’d actually be somewhere in the league.

Comments that repeated your worth. Ingrained it into your mind. Over and over and over again.

You weren’t good enough.

Sentences that etched themselves into the forefront of your thoughts, always ready to haunt you at the slightest notice.

You weren’t good enough.

Not now, not ever.

Not for your own mother or father, never mind your siblings.

Not for your teammates, nor the fans.

It was a miracle you were even playing professionally in the first place.

God if they took one good look at you maybe they realized how poorly they fucked up by signing you.

You weren’t a good footballer, barely even a decent one. How you managed to play for this long was a miracle.

They’d notice soon enough though. They had to. They always did.

They’d notice soon enough that you weren’t good enough.

And then?

Then you’d be left with nothing, as you always were.

~~~

You didn’t know when you were led inside to the locker rooms- when that absolutely terrifying moment of being in front of the opposing team’s stands had gone from you taking a corner to being absolutely pelted by random junk.

From empty bottles (plastic thankfully), to empty food containers, balled-up programs, signs, merch, all being hurled your way, never mind the onslaught of assaults- the stands only repeating everything your mind ever told you, every, single, day.

You didn’t hear when the ref blew their whistle, nor when the rest of the girls dressed in red crowded you, some chastising the fans along with the away team, others wrapping around you protectively, quickly leading you towards the benches.

You weren’t there as you were subbed off, your mind still frozen, much like the rest of your body.

All you knew right now was that you could smell the familiar scent of your girlfriend’s perfume as the heel of your palms pressed harshly into your eyes in an attempt to cease the uproar in your head.

Breaths getting heavy, you tried your best to calm yourself down.

You weren’t a stranger to panic attacks, and even in your hazed state, you could very well recognize the oncoming situation.

Bringing your arms to wrap around your own stomach in a futile attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort, you felt your breathing pick up as the sharp lights of the room seemed to get darker.

Room spinning, the voices in your head louder, you could only bring your knees up to your head, body now practically in fetal position as you rode out the attack.

Even with the hundreds you’d had by now, you hadn’t been able to come up with an effective method to deal with them.

So you sat there, huddled into a ball, body shaking, mind louder than ever as Leah stood above and watched helplessly.

The blonde had been there in the stands to watch you get abused, immediately making her way down to the pitch because ACL and league rules be damned, that was her girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

She stood by the sidelines, ready to receive you as the obvious substitution occurred, an arm coming to wrap around you as she led your ghost of a body to the locker rooms.

She watched as you mindlessly sat in front of your locker, not a single word uttered from you, not a single response to the quiet comforting words the blonde had whispered to you gently in an attempt to rouse you from your clearly distressed state.

She itched to reach out and touch you as she saw you slowly curl into a ball, you getting ever so smaller as she could only helplessly watch, you unknowingly flinching the second she touched your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you.

It was only when your heavy breathing died down every so slightly, nearly fifteen minutes later if the blonde’s perception was right, that she tried again, slowly coming to sit beside you as she gauged your reaction.

Seeing your shaking start to slow as well, she slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, her own body tense as she watched you stiffen up before you relaxed slightly, letting her pull you into her side as her other hand came to hold your left one.

And long after you had buried yourself into her side, body defeated with the rollercoaster of emotions you’d just experienced, too tired to think of any of the consequences of your actions, you let Leah led you- helping your pull on a hoodie and your jacket and change out of your cleats as she gathered the rest of your gear.

Helpless except able to nod in agreement as the blonde suggested you leave early from the game, you followed her quietly, not a word said from you, as she led you out of the ground and to her car, where you fell asleep within seconds.

It was only when the car pulled up to her house, a place you’d been to many times, your relationship long past new to the both of you, did you rouse, mind still not present and following the blonde.

Leah was good. You trusted Leah. Leah was safe.

The words repeating in your head, you believing they were true like all the other words that crossed your mind, you let yourself sleepily be led up the stairs and up to the ensuite.

Standing there awkwardly as you slowly came to the situation, the lights in the washroom waking you up, your shoulders sunk as the embarrassment from earlier set in.

God you were an embarrassment. First a panic attack in front of the English skipper, and now this- you stood helplessly in her bathroom like you were broken, waiting to be fixed.

You watched in dread as the blonde flitted around the joint closet, quickly gathering a change of clothes for you before she stacked them neatly on the countertop, handing you a towel and starting the shower, not meeting your eyes.

What you didn’t know was that she didn’t want to scare you off, intimidate you as her heart ached at the shameful look in your eyes.

“Take a warm shower, yeah? We’ll get you some food after, and then how about a nap?”

Unable to do anything but nod in response, your fear of upsetting the blonde, of anyone really, making itself known, you followed her instructions, locking the door as she left and starting to remove your sweat covered kit.

~~~

It’s nearly twenty minutes later when you emerge from the shower, your dirty clothes held precariously in your hands, your eyes wide as you see Leah sprawled across her bed, scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

A small smile unknowingly escapes you as you watch her nearly throw her phone, very much caught off-guard at your appearance.

Smile tightening quickly as you realized it rested on your face, your eyes met the ground, ears sharp as you noted the footsteps headed towards you.

Before you knew it, the mess of dirty clothes was swiftly taken from your hands, your gaze snapping up as you watched Leah take your dirty kit and toss it into her own hamper before turning to you.

“Alright. I’d rather you eat, but I’m not going to force you to, yeah? We can take a nap, maybe just reset, or if you wanna sit down and watch a movie or a show we can do that too…how’s that sound?”

Feeling your eyes water at the blonde’s gentle tone, feelings still overwhelming from earlier, your sights met the ground again as you meekly nodded.

Blood rushing in your ears, you felt the vibrations as Leah stepped towards you again, her hands gently taking yours.

“Nap?”

Taking her chances at guessing which you preferred, the tender tone in her voice had you easily nodding again, tears you’d been trying to hold back now escaping.

And as the blonde led you to her bed, you winced as the voices in your head picked up once again, mind baffled at why someone was treating you with this much kindness, this much care.

Choosing to ignore them for now, you smiled shyly at the sight in front of you, Leah having rounded the bed to go on ‘her’ side, the skipper tucked into the sheets, arms wide open as she shot you a soft grin, eyes sparkling with glee as she waited for you to join her.

Gingerly approaching the bed, you hesitantly pulled back the covers, eyes meeting Leah’s every few seconds to make sure you were okay, before entering, unsure of whether you were allowed to hug the blonde (even if a part of you so desperately wanted to do so).

Your question was answered for you, however, Leah was unable to see you lying down in such a stiff manner, taking matters into her own hands and hooking an arms around your waist and pulling you into her.

And as you slowly got comfortable, moving millimetres every minute until you finally found yourself resting with your head on her chest, arm wrapped around her midsection as her hand came to wrap around your waist, one running through your hair, you let yourself sink into her hold, brain quietening every so slightly as the familiar presence and scent had you relaxing.

It was only when you were on the verge of sleep, minutes later, did you hear Leah’s voice whisper into the air between you two, her lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as an apology as she realized her mistake of rousing you from your sleepy state.

“There’s a lot that goes on up there,” with a small nod towards the top of your head, she continued, “but it doesn’t have to stay there y’know?”

Holding her breath as she felt you shift slightly, you turning your body to listen better, she spoke again.

“I’d be more than happy to stay here and listen to you when you need it. Really, any of us would. All of the girls love you and care for you, and despite whatever people might say, you add to the team, yeah?”

Feeling you nod hesitantly at the words, Leah waited as she sensed your jaw move, anticipation killing her as you sounded out the words silently before they left your mouth- and even then, you winced slightly.

“I don’t want to be a burden…don’t wanna waste your time…”

There was something in the way the words quietly rolled off your tongue, no doubt said many times before, the sincerity behind them proving you meant them wholeheartedly- that you believed you were an inconvenience, that broke Leah’s heart.

You weren’t a burden. You weren’t.

She wondered if you’d ever seen yourself the way other’s saw you. If that coloured glass that you saw yourself through was tainted any other colour than black. Whether it was ever yellow so you’d see just how much of a ray of sunshine you were on the stormiest of days, often cheering up your shared teammates with just a single smile as you’d skip into the change rooms.

Or if you ever looked at yourself through the rose coloured glass, the same hue that would coat your cheeks as you’d interact with fans post-game, giving each and every one your undivided attention, making them feel special, and loved, and cared for.

Or whether you ever saw yourself through green, breathing life to even the dullest moments, standing tall, unwavering, as players would try to take you down on the pitch over and over again, you getting back up each time, a force to be reckoned with, one that not even the rainiest of days nor Mother nature could defy.

You weren’t a burden, and the blonde needed you to believe it, because it was the truth and nothing but the wholehearted, honest-to-god truth.

It’s why her honest admission just tumbles out, the words spilling before the defender could stop them.

“If I could hold you all night and all day, I would, without a single doubt or any hesitation.”

Her grip tightening on you as the words are spoken clearly and strongly, her placing a gentle kiss to your temple before continuing.

“If you think you’re gonna waste my time by talking to me when you aren’t doing well, then just know, that listening to you as I try and comfort you and get the chance to hold you in my arms? It’s the best waste of time I’ll ever have in my life. It’s one I’ll cherish till the end of time, because it’s never, and I mean never, a waste.”

Taking a deep breath in, the blonde felt you nod at her words, your own grip tightening around the blonde as you pulled yourself closer into her, closing your eyes in an attempt to believe her the best you could.

Leah could sense your struggle though, not ignorant to the way a small, trembling breath escaped you, frustration clear.

“You don’t have to believe me now, or any time soon really, but just know, it’s the wholehearted truth- and I’ll spend as long as you need reminding you, because you’re good enough. You’re more than good enough, and worthy of love, and a good life, and good things. You deserve love, even though your brain tries to tell you otherwise, yeah?”

When you didn’t say anything, it clear to the blonde that you were silently taking in her words, contemplating them, doing your best to believe them, she let you be, revelling in the silence as took in the feel of you being in her arms, one of her favourite feelings in the world.

The blonde could almost feel you turning her words over in your head, examining them from top to bottom as you inspected them for any indication of a lie, surprised when there wasn’t one.

Content with the way you hadn’t spoken out yet in disagreement, Leah decided to take her chances and bite the bullet.

Proposing her next idea, the blonde held her breath in anticipation, heartbeat slowing dramatically as she hoped you’d agree to her words.

“I’ll always be here to hold you, but I think it might just help if we see a professional, yeah? You and me, both of us, we’ll go, and just give it a crack?”

Feeling your hesitancy this time, the blonde pulled you closer to her gently, turning onto her side as her eyes met yours.

One hand now carefully resting on your cheek, she placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose before continuing.

“Three sessions is all I ask. If you don’t want to go after that, then I won’t ask again, ever. But, just give me three sessions, and I’ll be there for each one if you want, and if nothing changes, then you’re off the hook, deal?”

There was an audible sigh of relief that escaped Leah’s lips as you hesitantly nodded in agreement.

Deciding that that was good enough for the time being, Leah smiled softly to herself, more than happy with any baby steps of progress being made.

“Just want you to love yourself the way the rest of us love you. The way I love you…”

The words were punctuated with another gentle kiss on your head, this time her lips lingering as you both basked in the touch, the blonde well aware that physical touch was your love language.

Nodding to yourself as your girlfriend’s arms wrapped around you at the end of her sentence, heart feeling just a tad bit lighter as her embrace sucked you in, you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet in your mind and warmth in your chest.

Snuggling further into Leah’s hold, you let out a shaky breath as the emotions of the day filtered out of you, you weren’t going to lie, you were terrified for the future- absolutely scared shitless for what it held. But, with Leah by your side, on your team, cheering you on, a spark of hope nestled quietly inside you, filling you with a refreshing breath, a new goal to work towards.

Not now, not soon, but slowly and surely, you’d work your way through this. You wanted to. for your sake and hers.

After all, with your girlfriend to remind you that you were human, someone that could live and not just survive, maybe you could finally teach yourself it too.

#not proofread as usual #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #my writing #fic #fic req #hurt/comfort #iygwmt

421 notes · View notes

taintedcigs · 5 months

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT: MADE YOUR MARK ON ME

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which you and eddie try to navigate the aftermath of the kiss (wc: 5.8k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF n then angst oops, a little bit of argument but v tiny, uhmmm smut, p in v, unprotected sx (wrap it up irl), lots of praises, kinda rough. body worshipping? idk. eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys my angel thank u for all ur love & help💗🙏🏻 not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. i honestly have a love-hate relationship w this chapter BUT ENJOY!!. also like... ily all for all the love on the last chapter omg?

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series, pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

Minutes.

But it felt like hours.

And you didn’t want it to be over.

Judging by the hold he had on you, calloused hands grabbing onto your flesh like a man-starved, neither did he.

This was all he ever wanted. Ever since the day you flagged him over when your car broke down. Even when you were a bitch to him. Even when you rolled your pretty eyes at him. Even when you left him. All he fucking wanted was you.

Always just out of his grasp, close but never close enough. And this? This was a dream come true. Fucking explosions and butterflies in your stomach type of shit that Eddie always mocked, that you always mocked.

That scar in his heart that scabbed at the mention of you. Healed. All gone. One kiss from you and it was all back to normal.

“Eddie!” A booming yell echoed in everyone else’s ears but you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear I’m gonna kill him, Eddie where the fuck are you?”

Was that… Gareth?

If Gareth fucking ruined this for him, he was going to hang him by his balls, up on the wall, make sure he could never fucking—

“Eddie!”

And you pulled away, first, Eddie was going to fucking kill him now. A vivid torture method flashed across his mind. Even the adorable flustered look on your face as you drew a breath wasn’t enough to calm him down.

“I—I think your set is about to-”

“Fuck the set,” Eddie spat, his veins still pumping with the need for you. Brain hazy, he was never going to get enough of you, was he? A hunger that was never going to be sated.

The lingering gaze was interrupted by Gareth, scoffing while he dragged Eddie away, ignoring the threats and the cusses that left his lips, the same gentle ones that were just stuck on yours, the sweetest taste, from the filthiest mouth.

You really needed to shut your goddamn brain up. But how could you?

His body was turned toward you, shirt stretched out—you did have a tight hold on him. Pale lips now a bit shiny from your candy gloss, stretched into the widest grin, eyes glinting with something you’ve never seen in him before. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

But it was beautiful. He was pretty. Tempting.

You could barely comprehend Eddie’s words when his gaze on you was that striking. “We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you and goodnight.” Slipped past your ears, you didn’t care, you needed him.

What happens now?

Lingered in your mind, you wanted him to rush to you like you’re in a fucking rom-com, lock your lips in a dizzying kiss, again, you didn’t fucking care. You wanted more. You needed more.

You could feel the eyes of everyone, including Steve’s impatient nail-biting, dying to know what the fuck happened between the two of you. Yet they didn’t dare to ask you until Jonathan and Nancy had left since the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow. And ever since they were gone, Robin and Steve had been teasing you nonstop, trying to make you crack.

Clearly, something had gone down, and the co-dependent idiots had to know.

“He looks like he’s going to eat you.” Steve hummed, making you roll your eyes at him.

You were about to give him a smart-ass answer, but of course, he didn’t let you. “I bet if I laid one hand on you, he’d end up here in seconds.” Steve barked out a laugh, Robin joining him as you threw them a dead-set glare.

“It’s not like that—we haven’t—he won’t.” Your frustration was interrupted by a grinning Steve.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve teased, his hand quick to brush away the strand of hair away from your face, fingertips gently brushing against your cheeks, making heat flutter to your cheeks.

“Steve!” you protested, your gaze widening as you chided him, while Robin playfully counted down from ten by your other side.

Steve ignored your protests, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug. You attempted to push him off with a scoff, but he was relentless.

“Three… Two…” Robin's counting came to a halt, and your childish squabble with Steve ceased as a deep voice interrupted.

“Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” The metalhead’s gravelly voice cut through the air, his gaze shooting daggers at Steve, who only smirked, much to Eddie's obvious dismay.

“Eight seconds,” Steve murmured in your ear, you could almost feel his stupid smirk forming on your ear shell, prompting a huff from you.

“She’s all yours, man,” Steve chuckled, releasing his hold and retreating with Robin, leaving the two of you alone. Eddie scoffed at Steve's retreating figure before turning his attention to you.

“What’s their damage?” His brows scrunched together as he watched Steve and Robin walk away, engrossed in their hushed gossip.

“Do you have all day?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, earning a chuckle from him.

He liked this, he loved this, he missed this. Easy banter, shared laughter.

“So… you goin’ home?” Eddie asked, nonchalant, like his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest each time you stole a glance at him.

You nodded, keeping it simple, almost avoiding his gaze. His exaggerated reaction, a spat-out “What?” made you giggle. A melody he could never have enough of.

“Well, the night’s almost over, so…”

“Come with me,” He muttered, amber gaze like silk as it connected with yours.

“Where?”

“Mi casa es yours or whatever the saying goes.” He grinned.

With a huff, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you muttered.

“Why?”

“You know why.” You enunciated.

He raised a brow, “Enlighten me.”

“I—It’s late.”

“So? That never stopped us before.” He shrugged, seemingly unfazed.

“Oh, c’mon Pinky,” he coaxed, “we never end nights this early, at least not until we’re a couple more joints in, smushed on the couch, putting on some old horror movie… I thought we were revisiting the past.” He hummed, puppy dog eyes staring at your soul. Shit.

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Are you really gonna say no to gettin’ high with me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

A nickname you had heard so many times before. Yet, it was different, the way it rolled off his lips making you almost jump in place.

“Okay,” you gulped, physically. Fuck.

He grinned, taking you by hand, fuck all, while you waved a shy goodbye to Robin and Steve, who watched it all with an all-knowing grin.

“Pay up,” Steve turned to Robin with his palm in front of her.

Robin snorted, “No fucking way.”

“Trust the process, Robin. Trust the fucking process.” Steve huffed, watching the two of you leave hand-in-hand.

As the two of you entered the familiar house, the sight of it brought enough memories that made you feel light-headed, a repository of memories flooded in your mind.

“Is Wayne around?” you inquired, breaking the silence that clung to the space. Eddie, leading the way, answered nonchalantly, “Nah. At his girlfriend’s.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait what? Wayne has a girlfriend?” You exclaimed.

“Uh-huh, Hannah.”

“Oh! That’s great!”

“Yeah, he’s having sleepovers with her like a fucking teenager, I told him to ask her to move in, but he’s too chicken shit,” he scoffed.

“Oh, come on.” You elbowed him playfully, “Be nice to him, he deserves this,” you said with a smile.

He nodded in agreement, “He does.” Then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?” You shook your head.

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know how, but a shyness appeared within you, propping up your elbows as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him intently.

With a shrug, he opened the fridge, taking out a Schlitz, gaze on you dangerous when he popped it open with his teeth, barking a chuckle when you squirmed at the sudden, sharp sound.

“Fidgety much?” He grinned, that damn dimple taking its place on the corner of his mouth, making all sorts of warmth flush to your cheeks, making you feel so timid under his gaze.

You could sense the cockiness radiating off of him, it was addicting, and it was making you feel more and more shy under him. Because both of you knew why you were here, at two fucking A.M., dismissing everyone else, flirting and bickering all the way home.

Yet, since you entered the familiar trailer, you had been silent. Because you knew, you fucking knew that kiss changed everything. But this would seal it. Another step forward. A territory the two of you had never crossed before.

And your mind was not being kind to you, screaming at you to stop, to run, to not fucking do this, because you’d end up hurt, because someway somehow he’d end up hurting too, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it.

Your silence made him cockier and cockier, drawing you in more and more. And if he kept it up, you knew even your idiotic abandonment issues wouldn’t be enough to stop you from jumping on him.

You wanted this, all your mind could replay was his fingers on that damn guitar, the way his mouth popped open that damn can of beer, the way his stupid plushy lips curled into a smirk. Shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead when he leaned on the counter, arms flexing with it.

Stop fucking thinking about it.

“You gonna answer me or what, sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“Jesus, you okay?” He asked, concerned, cornering you in the kitchen with his soft hazel eyes.

Fuck.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“‘M f-fine!” You answered too quickly and meekly for that to be the truth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.”

Yes. No. Yes. No. I think I crave you more than I’m mad at you, but I can’t let you know that, your thoughts swirled.

“I thought—”

You interrupted all quippily, “Thought what? That kissing me would suddenly undo everything?”

“No…” He sighed, “I thought I proved myself to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t undo it.”

“Well, I forgave you.”

You scoffed. “You know forgiving me doesn’t mean shit if you bring it up every time I tell you you did something wrong, right?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, “Can you blame me?” He muttered, almost defeated.

“What would you do? If I up and left, would you just forgive me? Would you just trust me and act like it was all okay?” He tensed, words spilling out of his mouth like venom.

And you narrowed your gaze, returning it back to him. “What would you do if I kissed Jason? I asked you that, yet you never answered. Would you still kiss me? Would you still write notes for me, knowing that Jason’s slimy lips were brushing—“

He was quick to wave his hands in front of your face, grimacing just at the thought. “Stop! Just fucking stop!”

“What, too much for you?” You spat.

“Of course, it’s too much for me! T—the thought of him, anyone, being with you… makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Good, then I think we’re even!” You suggested.

“Even?” He scoffed, “Is that all you fuckin’ care about?” He retorted, making you huff, once again.

“God, no! I just—I just mean we both did fucked up shit and from this point on we either move on, or we never talk to each other again, which we can’t seem to do!” You snapped, that anger from before had disappeared though, the kiss had softened things. Softened you.

“Okay, then let’s just move on!” He took a step toward you, getting close again. So fucking close.

You took a step back, your back hitting the marble counter, yet you remained on your angry stance. “Fine by me!” You retorted, all hastily.

“That’s fine by me too!” He agreed, towering over you, trying to one-up you.

“Good!” And, of fucking course you returned the energy. Stubbornness is exactly what defined the two of you, babbling like a bunch of kids over nothing.

Eddie didn’t hesitate to take another step toward you, this time, both his hands on the marble kitchen counter, fully cornering you, as he grinned. “Great!”

And you were about to answer, about to one-up him, like he did with you… but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Looked at how fucking close he was to you, and you shuddered a deep breath, getting caught up in your throat when it reminded you of the kiss.

And that’s when Eddie realized it.

You weren’t really mad at him.

At least not really, not since the kiss.

You were nervous… because he was standing this close to you.

A piece of dangerous information for Eddie—someone who had been in love with you since you were teens, to acquire, because it’d turn him into an arrogant fuck in a matter of seconds—even more so than he ever was.

“Oh.” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he was grinning like a devil now.

“What?” You furrowed your brows, trying to have that annoyed stance from before, but it wasn’t working.

“Why are you looking at me like—”

He was quick to interrupt, face inches away from yours. “You’re not mad, at least not that much, you’re… nervous.” He grinned.

“N—nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“Because of me.” That stupid smirk on his lips returned

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“What happened to that Pinky who refused to talk to me today? Who told me we couldn’t do this? Did one kiss soften you up this much?” He quipped, making you scoff.

“You know what? You’re an asshole.” You sneered.

“There she is.”

“When did you become this cocky, Munson?” You narrowed your gaze.

“I was always an arrogant fuck, sweetheart. But I’d say the kiss helped, like a fuck ton, and you squirming now, too.” He shrugged, like what he just said was no big deal, like how close he was to you didn’t make you gulp nervously.

You almost gasped, offended, like it wasn’t the truth. “I’m not fucking squirming—”

“Look at you… shuddering a breath just because I’m this close to you.” He barked out a chuckle, gaze dangerous, dare you say… lustful.

“Fuck you,” You spat, feeling small under his bashful gaze, cheeks heating.

“Well, I’m trying sweetheart,” He was quick, you had to give him that, making heat grow everywhere in your body, but especially within your thighs now, fuck, he was smooth.

And you weren’t willing to put up a fight, or a front, you wanted—needed him. You couldn’t deny yourself him any longer, not even your commitment issues were enough to hold you off.

“You’re s—such a little shit,” You stuttered, embarrassingly so.

God, you wanted to wipe his smirk off by kissing him, you wanted to feel his honey-flavored lips on yours again, you wanted to feel his lips twitch against yours instead of the air.

And he was close again, all in your face, all you had to do was lean a little bit and his lips would be on yours.

“And you’re an absolute pain in my—”

Fuck it.

You fisted his stupid shirt, crashing your lips down to his, dizzying, just as magnetic as before, but needier. His lips still tasted the sweetest, yet mixed with the bitter taste of the beer on his tongue made you grow weak in the knees.

You were about to open your mouth fully, to feel his greedy tongue on yours, but much to your surprise, Eddie pulled away, making you whine.

“Wait—” He faltered.

“What?”

“Do you want this?” He asked

“Yes!” Your voice raised an octave.

“Tell me you want this.” His gaze was serious.

“I do,” you breathed.

He scoffed. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Eddie—”

“I wanna hear you, or we can just pretend like none of it happened, I can forget the kiss we can just sit around here and—”

I want to know if you’re in this as much as I am, is what he meant.

“Jesus you’re so fucking—” You scoffed, but he actually backed away, your eyes widening at him.

“W—wait!” You pleaded.

An awaiting grin sat on his lips and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Of course I want this, Eddie. I’ve wanted you for five fucking years, I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you—okay wait maybe that’s a lie because you really were annoying the first time we met but I wanted, no, I want you—”

His mouth crashed against yours, interrupting you in the best fucking way. His lips felt warm, hot almost. Skin burning everywhere where he touched you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“So eager, princess, already begging for me, hmm?” He taunted, making you roll your eyes in an instant.

“Just shut up you, asshole.” He grinned, mouth crashing down on yours once again. Much more gentle this time, but rough enough to have your chests pressed together.

His lips only left yours to be reattached to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from your chin to your cheekbone. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, I just can help myself you’re so—” He mumbled, voice muffled by your skin.

He lifted you up, strong hands meeting behind your waist in one harsh move, making you yelp before you wrapped your legs around him, he kissed you like he never had before, all teeth, and no mercy, passionate yet still gentle in somefucking way.

He pivoted while trying to get to his bedroom, making you chuckle into the kiss, pining you against the wall, and it was all so desperate and messy. And just so you.

You wanted to discard your dress but he wanted to rip it off, wanted to grab onto your flesh, and feel you, completely. Drink you in.

He stumbled inside his room, knocking over a few boxes, and sending them over to the other side of his room. Not that either of you cared enough to break the kiss, at least until Eddie plopped you down on the bed, a grin overtaking his lips at the sight of you.

“You’re so pretty, so fucking beautiful and just—” He took a deep breath, words were failing him, his entire being captivated by you.

His mind was spiraling, cheeks almost a salmon pink. Eddie had sex countless times before, but none of them meant anything. None of them left him this speechless, none of them made him nervous. It was like his first time, the way his breath got caught in his throat, cock stirring at how pretty you looked, stomach fluttering at how he was on top of you.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this. How long I’ve wanted you… How perfect you really are.” He towered above you, and your breaths mingled, bodies tied, chests pressed against one another.

You wanted to joke around and tease him like he did with you, but you couldn’t help the flutters in your stomach. All you cared about was whether he thought if all of that was. Did he really see you like that?

“You mean that?” You asked, almost shy, wanting to hide your face, but he just gave you a scoff, like it was the most unbelievable thing ever.

It was to him.

“‘Course I do, Jesus, Pinky I basically worshipped—” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. “The ground you walked on.”

You drew in a breath, “I—I wanted you just as much.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned.

“Don’t say things like that,” he warned, shaking his head. Did you not know the hold you had on him? Even still? He was wrapped around your finger, always has been. Always would be.

“Don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”

“Then, don’t, please, Eddie, I want you, more than anything.”

That was all he needed, low grunts escaped his lips. He attacked your lips hungrily, desperately, twirling his tongue with yours, needy and passionate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your dress, and you helped him get rid of his clothes, your fingers fiddling as they struggled to take his shirt over his head.

It was all messy, stupidly impatient, making both of you giggle while you struggled to get rid of the clothes that were keeping both of your bodies away from each other.

“So impatient,” you mocked with a chuckle, enjoying the way his eyes boggled your body, it wasn’t disrespectful, you didn’t feel the intrusion as you did with every other fucking guy you’ve been with. Just pure appreciation and your stomach flipped with excitement.

Fuck, what was he doing to you?

He drew in a breath when your chest rose up and down, he felt like he was watching a ping-pong match, eyes darting over to every part of your body, he wanted to engrave it in his mind. Have you there forever.

He could barely comprehend it, you, stark naked, on his bed. Telling him you wanted him, more than anything. And you looked perfect. Fucking perfect. More than he could ever imagine. All those years he spent thinking about you.

The girls he fucked were always a spitting image of you. It wasn’t a fucking coincidence. He couldn’t get his mind off of you. You made him feel out of his head, and fucking finally, it was happening.

Cold rings ghosted over your chest, making you gasp. “So—” His head dove into your breasts, latching his tongue on one nipple. “Fucking—” His hand dove down to your panties, discarding them without care before he ghosted over your slit, still waiting for some approval from you. “Perfect—” He hummed, against your nipples, making you mewl.

“P—please, Eddie,” you muttered, pathetically.

His eyes shot up at you, amber gaze dark, wanting, needing you to tell him exactly what you needed. “Need you to fuck me, please.”

“Baby,” he rasped, jaw almost hung open with how forward you were being. His cock was trapped in his boxers, needing room with the way words fell like silk from your lips. The nicknames were new, especially something like ‘baby’ but it felt so familiar, like the two of you had always been like this. Like the last five years didn’t exist.

This was all the confirmation he needed, his ringed finger met your entrance, and you whimpered at the slight sensation, your entire body burned with need at his one touch.

His soft lips trailed down from your chest to your belly button, tongue leaving nice strokes on his way to your pussy, making you arch your back in desperation.

“Need more, Eddie,” you whined, a pout apparent on your cheeks.

“That desperate, huh?” He grinned, pad of his thumb still toying with your clit, earning gasps out of you. “Haven’t even done much, yet you’re soakin’ my fingers, baby,” he added, that taunting tone making you roll your eyes.

“Arrogant fuck,” your voice came out as a squeak, making him let out a greedy chuckle.

He inserted a finger inside of you, enjoying the gasps he earned. “You know, I always thought that attitude of yours needed a fix?” He hissed, ringed finger curling inside of you, making you squirm at the coldness as you bucked your hips for more.

You didn’t know what took over you, or him. The dirty talk just rolled out of your lips like it was natural like the two of you had been together for the longest time.

It was all the pining, anticipation, and the pent-up desire. And it was making both of you needier by the second.

“Then do it, fuck it out of me.” A low groan echoed in the bedroom, followed by a string of curses, Eddie’s entire body shuddering with it.

His fingers left your clit, hands working their way to slip out of his boxers, a rough expulsion of moan released from his lips when his cock plopped against his stomach, making your mouth water at the sight.

Shit, fuck, shit.

You gulped, jaw almost wide open, making him cockier if that was even possible. His hands jerked at his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum collected at his hot tip. “Gonna give this to you, is that what you want, sweetheart?” He taunted.

With a nod, you licked your lips, making his cock twitch in his hands. “I’ll fuck the brat out of you, don’t worry, honey.” His hand was about to stroke his cock again, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Let me help,” you hummed, your smile and attitude all disappearing, a glazed look washed over your features as your soft hands fisted his length.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groaned roughly when your fingers stroked his rock-hard cock, until he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed you down on the bed and taking you by surprise before his lips re-attached to yours, hands slightly parted your thighs, teeth clashed together, and nibbling on each other's lips, before he finally, finally guided his cock against your entrance.

Then, he stopped, making you furrow your brows when he reached for his bedside table, and you, unable to wait, were quick to stop him. “No!” His attention snapped back to you.

“Please… I wanna feel you, ‘m on the pill,” you murmured, pupils blown wide, making Eddie curse once again before he blabbed, nervousness spilling out of him.

“O—okay,” He hummed, turning to you with a nervous look, “and just so you know I haven’t had—” Shit, he was going to ruin this.

“I was tested not too long ago and me and Chr—”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god, I will leave, Munson,” you warned, gaze narrowed and jealousy bitter in your veins.

He scoffed, “I was going to say we haven’t done a—anything, you lunatic,” he wanted to joke, but words rolled out of his lips like a quick ramble. He couldn’t fucking ruin this. But, he had to let you know. You had to know that they didn’t sleep together.

And much to his surprise, with a grin on your lips, “Oh? I don’t know if I can say the same with me and Jame—” your joke was quickly shut up by a dizzying kiss, and his groan turned into a growl, filled with jealousy, making you giggle into the kiss.

Both of you were idiots. Total fucking idiots. Insane. Crazy. But, fuck, did it feel right, like dominos falling into place, this is what it should’ve been.

He dragged you more toward the edge of the bed with his rough hands, finally guiding his cock to your entrance, wiping off that grin from your face, hunger taking over fully.

“You think you’re funny?” He spat, and you nodded all sassily, “Laugh it up, doll. But once I’m done with you, you won’t even remember the names of those other douchebags, I’ll fuckin’ make sure of it.” His arrogance was back, and that smirk played on his lips, shutting you up once again.

He pushed into you without a warning, making you cry out while your eyes squeezed shut at how good he felt. Your pussy wrapped his cock nicely, so warm and tight that Eddie had no fucking idea how he didn’t cum right then and there on the spot, a low groan escaped his lips.

He dropped his head to your shoulder, frantic breathing escaped through his nose as he tried to adjust to how tight you were.

Jesus, fucking Christ.

He had to hold himself off.

Your hands clawed at his back, enjoying the stretch while Eddie pushed himself inside of you at a slow pace, reveling in the way you mewled for him.

Eyes already squeezed shut, mouth slightly open, lashes fluttering the more he drove his cock into you. You looked so beautiful. Ethereal.

He was struggling to comprehend if this was all real. This entire fucking night. From the fight to the kiss to now.

It was always back and forth between the two of you, but more real than anything he ever had.

Pinky.

His Pinky.

He loved you, so so much, that his heart was about to explode, his body felt hot from everywhere you were touching him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart,” he hissed, pace picking up once you finally accommodated his size, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Feels s—so good, Eds,” you whimpered. He caught your chin in his hands, tilting your face toward him, making your fuzzy gaze focus on him. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You, wanted you for so long, shit, honey.”

“Tell me…” He muttered, licking the trail to your boobs, sucking on it with a growl. “Tell me that this changes everything. Tell me that we’ll never go back, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve it.”

“E—Eddie,” you stuttered, still struggling to comprehend it when his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed.

“I…” You sucked in a deep breath, mind feeling mushy before Eddie groaned, tucking his hips back, pulling out of your warm pussy as you gasped at the feeling, just as you were about to whine, beg, he rammed himself deep inside of you, again. A grin appeared on his lips when you cried out in pleasure.

Yet, his movements halted, as if he was giving you a taste of what might happen, and you wanted to cuss him out, tell him to never fucking stop again, cry out, beg for him to continue. Your body felt woozy with how much you needed him to fuck you, how much you desperately needed to cum.

“Everything!” You cried out frantically, “E—Eddie, fuck, I d—don’t ever wanna go back, please…”

That was all he needed to hear. And he simply couldn’t wait any longer, deprive his body of you any fucking longer. His movements picked up with a low grunt, fucking into you roughly and fast, all animalistic as he held onto your hips, leaving bruises all over while he worked on your neck, sucking, marking you.

Pleasure bursted through your body as Eddie’s thick cock dragged along your walls. Both of your eyes locked, emotions gathering in them. Panting as your foreheads connected, thinking the same thing.

Those three little words begged to roll out of both of your plushy lips, yet too scared to ever utter them. His lips crashed down on you again, this time, just so that those three words didn’t escape his mouth, kissing you with such passion that your head grew light.

“Pretty girl,” he breathed into your neck, “my pretty girl,” he growled. His cock was driven by a primal need to make you his, every touch meant something, every time he thrust himself into you, it was deliberate, rough, but gentle in some fucking way.

Shallow breaths escaped your mouths in puffs, as you watched him drive his cock all the way into you, and you tightened up almost immediately, your pussy pulsing around him.

He groaned at the sight of you, mouth hung open, tits bouncing up and down, mewls coming out for him. You looked fucking beautiful, babbling to him about how you were going to cum soon.

He pressed his middle finger to your clit, drawing quick circles as you whined for him, he was fucking good, and you could feel your walls swelling as you yelled out his name.

Your screams were muffled by Eddie’s lips as a wave of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and the second you came undone on his cock, he fucking lost it. His groans grew guttural as he spilled his load inside of you, falling on top of you with a contented sigh as he made sure every drop of him was stuffed into your walls.

Ragged breaths filled the room as Eddie slumped next to you, and you stared at the walls, a smile curved on your lips when the drawings you gave him were still there.

“You still have that?”

“Of course.” His fingertips traced a delicate path along the canvas of your skin, gentle, and warm, pulling away that strand of hair that was hiding your pretty features, a smile formed on his lips, his gaze on you so soft that you almost melted into him. “I told you… your art matters, it’s the very reason, I am where I am.”

As his words hung in the air, you looked up at him, and he gazed down at you. In that shared gaze, both of you knew. No words were exchanged, yet the depth of your connection bridged any gap.

Three words. Eight letters.

You should say it, you should tell him first. Let him know, that you love him, always have, always will. Your lips, poised in anticipation, hovered let him now, to utter those words.

But he interrupted, a subtle pull drawing you closer into the cocoon of his embrace. “W—We should go to sleep… hell of a day ahead of us.” He cleared his throat, fingertips weaved through the strands of your hair, caressing it.

A day ahead of us. Us. Us. Us.

It’s promising, so fucking promising. Peaceful. Everything you asked for. Yet, it scared you, because it was good. All of it was almost too good to be true.

But you wanted to shut that part of your brain off. No, because you weren’t going to ruin this for yourself again, you weren’t.

You hummed into his chest agreeingly, the vibrations resonating into his chest, his scent enveloped you, fully, completely.

And each gentle stroke of his fingertips through your hair was like a lullaby, making you give yourself into the security of his presence. It only took a handful of caresses for you to give into the sweet desire of sleep, nestled against his warmth.

You woke up next to a void spot in the bed. The morning sun burst through the lazily taped windows of Eddie's room, forcing you to squint against its intrusive rays.

A languid groan escaped your lips as you reluctantly left the warmth of the bed, lazily throwing on one of Eddie’s shirts as it hung well over your knees, making your way to the kitchen as you called out for him.

Silence greeted you.

You checked the fridge, hoping for a note, a hastily scribbled message, anything that might explain why he was gone.

But nothing.

At this point, your mind hadn't erupted into full-blown panic; there was no reason for it, or let your intrusive thoughts kick in, no, they were wrong, they had to be wrong.

There was no way he’d leave you, he wanted this himself. He invited you over.

And the two of you were supposed to go to the rehearsal dinner early. To help Jonathan and Nancy out. There was no way he’d just leave you like this.

Right?

Or maybe he regretted all of it and left in a panic.

You kept telling yourself the same lie until seconds melted into minutes, and eventually into hours.

And then, it finally dawned on you.

Eddie didn’t leave a note because he didn’t want to see you.

He regretted everything.

That's why he left you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #getaway car series

330 notes · View notes

kasagia · 1 year

Text

Bruises and scars

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! tidemaker! reader Summary: Kaz Brekker believed he was too broken and bruised to ever count on you reciprocating his childish crush. You were a powerful Grisha, someone who wouldn't be content to be in a relationship with the human shell that he was. That's why he gives you the cold shoulder, that's why he avoids you like the water you wield so well, that's why he tried to drive you away after the day you confessed your feelings to him. Kaz Brekker couldn't love anyone. It would not be beneficial to either side. But Kaz Rietveld rises from the dead, reminding him of what it's like to feel unconditional, blind love. And he won't give up. Not until he gets his girl back... isn't it too late for that, though? Warning(s): Kaz and his trauma; violence; he's afraid of his feelings but loves the reader; generally Kazzle misses the reader; angst with fluff; I'm a sucker for happy endings, but the boy suffered WITHOUT HIS INVESTMENT; mentions of de@th and bl00d Word count: 7,4k

Counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me

"You're sending Jesper to do your dirty work for you? I didn't know you were afraid to talk to one of your own crows." you stormed into his office without even bothering to knock. Kaz swallowed. He really should have been better prepared for this conversation. After all, he knew you wouldn't give up so easily. "What is this?" you asked, slamming the wad of paper onto his desk.

"I thought you could read. This is your next job." he replied calmly, not looking up from the papers in his hand.

"In some snobbish fucking king's palace? Are you kidding me?"

"Nikolai isn't that bad. You'll see when you get there."

"And what makes you think that I will voluntarily leave Ketterdam, the club, my friends, and the Crows for two bloody years, Kaz?" for the first time since you walked into his office, he looked up from his papers, fixing you with a cool, impassive gaze.

"That I'm your boss, and you have to obey me. You needed a reminder, judging by the tone of voice you use when you speak to me."

"Was it because of what I said to you when I almost..."

"No!" he growled at you, stopping you from finishing your sentence. That day had already joined his nightmares anyway. He didn't have to constantly recall your almost-death. "It has nothing to do with it." he said, hoping that would put an end to your conversation and went back to writing down the numbers.

"Do not lie to me. I know when you do it, Kaz. You got scared because I said I love…"

"You can go and get ready, Y/N." he said without looking up from the paper he was holding. He had never felt her gaze so hot and intense on him before. They always glanced furtively at each other, discreetly indulging in the silly fantasy of loving each other.

Like they could ever afford to live a normal life. As if he could ever love you properly—the way you deserved.

You stared at him intently, trying to find any trace of emotion in him, any evidence that he didn't really want to send you away from Ketterdam, that he was only doing it because Dirtyhands was afraid of the growing feeling between you two.

"I can hold on like this, Kaz." your soft whisper cut through him, making him shiver. He could bear your screams, your anger, your madness, but the tenderness, the vulnerability you showed only around him… was much more dangerous to the cold Barrel Bastard. "I can go and return to you like nothing happened. I can stay near you and pretend I don't feel anything towards you. I can stop myself from wishing for your slightest touch. I can hide my true emotions around you and other people, just like I have done before… but please just prove to me that it's all worth it. That you can slowly take off pieces of your armour and let me see and be with the real you. Not the Brekker's mask you wore every time we were on Ketterdam's street. Not the Dirtyhands' cruel version of yourself that you created to survive in this town. Not the Bastard from the Barrel, who has so much power in his hands to take down his every enemy. Just the real you, Kaz. The genius-mind boss who cares about his people, not only the kruge. The man who loves his friends more than anything on this earth. The man who risked his own life and saved me from death's arms more times than I could count. Please… just give me this little piece of hope." he tried hard not to raise his gaze to meet your captivating, imploring irises that could touch Brekker's heart.

He knew that the moment he looked at your face, he would doom you both by giving in to this burning desire to be with you.

But he couldn't.

He had to keep you away from him.

"You must be foolish or delusional to think like that. I'm the Bastard from the Barrel. And I care about my crows, because they are good investments. Nothing more and nothing less, Y/L/N."

"Is this everything that we are? What am I to you? An investment?"

Kaz's mouth went dry as he felt the waters rising around him, when a familiar feeling of panic began to seep through his practised mask. He looked away, not wanting you to read his true emotions. Not wanting you to see how much he wanted to confess his true feelings to you.

No. You're my moon, my sun that illuminates me in my darkness. The reason why I'm even bothering to learn how to touch people without going under the water again. You give me hope and peace every time you're close to me. You're my greatest power and weakness. The only one in this bloody world who can change my plans. The only one I care about in the mornings, afternoons, nights, and midnights. I can't drink, eat, think, sleep, or work without thinking about you. You have the power over me. And that's terrified me.

He desperately wanted to give in to his desire.

But he couldn't.

He was too bruised and broken for you.

"Then I have my answer, Mr. Brekker." you broke the long, tense silence between you two. Kaz was too terrified to shift his gaze from the papers on his desk to the only woman who could easily crack the wall around his cold, almost dead heart with one of your smiles towards him. Too afraid to watch the tender expression on your face turn into a cold detachment, just like your tone of voice. "Sorry for taking up your precious time, boss. But I would rather be the foolish girl who falls in love too easily for her own good than a powerful man who doesn't want to feel anything. Nobody will sit around the table and tell a story about a man who loves only his kruge. No matter how great he was." your disappointed whisper lingered in his office long after you left.

He sat dazed in his chair until the candle stub burned out completely, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office. He stood up, lit a new candle, and watched the flame. He couldn't focus on anything other than replaying your conversation.

Rietveld's voice echoed in Brekker's head, somehow getting through his wall, mocking powerful Dirtyhands.

Coward.

And every breath that I’ve been taking since you left feels like a waste on me

"No way!" Jesper's loudspeaker scream snapped Kaz out of his thoughts. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, and got up from the desk.

He has done nothing since that fateful conversation. Absolutely nothing. He limited himself to staring blankly at the wall as his thoughts of Y/N effectively took complete control of him. He needed a distraction. Jesper's screams outside his office were perfect.

Without his cane, he walked to the door, eavesdropping on what was going on outside his office.

"Find another idiot to tell him. Or better yet, grab some suicide guy from the roof. If he wants to die anyway, he might as well act as a messenger for their one last time before Kaz rips their head off. SHIT!" the sharpshooter screamed in panic, nearly losing his balance as the door he was partially leaning against was opened by his rather worried boss. "Kaz, the fuck, since when are you sneaking around like that?!"

"Why exactly would I want to have ripped someone's heads off, Jesper?" he ignored his comment, eager to find out what they were hiding from him as soon as possible.

Maybe that would effectively occupy his head, so he could stop thinking about the tidemaker for a while. Unfortunately, neither of the two were in a hurry to answer his question.

"You know, there's always an occasion. Theft, insult, threat, frown, bad day, wedding, christening…" Jesper shut up, seeing that his attempts at a joke only infuriated an already irritated Kaz.

"Y/N is gone." Kaz unconsciously held his breath, feeling the whole world freeze around him for a moment, until anger and panic took hold of him.

"What? Did someone kidnap her? How did you look after her?!" he growled furiously, walking back to the office and limping towards his cane. His crows followed hesitantly, watching him struggle as he tried to put on his cloak in his haste.

"She runaway. I lost track of her around the harbour." a new revelation made Kaz freeze again. He stared blankly into the space between Jesper and Inej, turning his cane's crow head in his hand.

He should have anticipated that too. Had a backup plan. But he didn't. He's been acting strangely lately. He didn't recognize himself. But after all, that was what he had wanted all along - to stay away from Y/N. So why had her disappearance made him feel so much worse?

"Kaz? Should we send some people to…"

"No need, Inej. Go back to work. You too, Jesper." the gambler looked like he wanted to argue with him, but the Wraith, seeing their friend's strange behavior, grabbed his hand, and they obediently walked away from their boss.

Kaz leaned against the desk, dullly staring at the closed door.

It was supposed to be better that way. Neither you nor he will ever meet again. You won't exchange those longing glances again. You won't act like a couple of teenagers in love, and no one will ever attack or harm you to get to him again or to threaten him. Nobody was going to get hurt.

So why did he feel like he was going back under the water?

I’ve been holding on to hope That you’ll come back when you can find some peace Cause every word that I’ve heard spoken since you left feels like an hollow street

One week, two days, 10 hours, 34 minutes and 29 seconds. That's how long it's been since he last saw your face.

He was secretly hoping you'd come back to him and the crows. Fuck the crows, he just wanted you to walk through that damned door again and start arguing with him, shouting at him, cursing his name at all the saints you knew, so he could hear your voice again.

He missed you. More than he thought he would.

Irritatingly, everything around him reminded him of you.

Especially your empty seat during Crow's meetings. No one dared to occupy it, as if every one of the gathered was waiting for you to come through that door (or window) again with a malicious, characteristic smirk on your face, mumbling some insincere apology for being late.

It never happened. Though Inej prayed to her saints every day for your return. Just like the others. Although each of them experienced your departure differently. Jes stared often at the places you once occupied, imagining you were still there. Nina found herself often making too many waffles (of course, accidentally making exactly the few you were used to eating). Wylan often creates his bombs and other things in your favourite colours.

But Kaz probably took your absence the worst of them all.

If he had slept little before, fearing that nightmares about Jordie would haunt him, now he hardly slept at all. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He heard your laugh. He smelled your perfume. He felt cursed. Cursed by you the moment your eyes looked at him full of sadness, anger, and disappointment... full of pain.

He thought that if you disappeared from his sight, he would forget about you and go back to normal. But your leaving only made him think of you more often and longer. He sat behind his desk for hours, staring blankly at the papers in front of him. Spread out plans, bills, and maps; it all stopped making sense to him. It stopped coming together, creating a perfect plan in his head.

All he could think about was you.

And Rietveld's voice, instead of being silenced and buried alive in his cold heart with your disappearance, only broke through his hard surface more and more often with the passing days without you by his side. And he wasn't holding back from taunting Dirtyhands at all.

The great Kaz Brekker fell victim to one of his own plans.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Even Ketterdam has felt your absence.

This time of year, it usually warms up enough for people to shed their heavy winter coats. However, it was the middle of spring, and a cool, icy wind still blew through the streets, bringing occasional, small snowfalls that melted on the street, creating mud.

Kaz had never despised the city he lived in more. Even it laughed in his face at his stupidity, reminding him that it was his fault that the only spark of joy and bewitchingness in this damned city had gone.

He shuddered as a child shoved past him, running happily to the ship that had come into harbour and thrown itself into its father's waiting arms. Brekker began to take rapid, panicked breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, trying to imagine something other than Jordie.

His haphephobia got worse.

Earlier, he could bear the fleeting touch of strangers, such as being brushed up against him in a crowd. It was no problem for him to touch his crows for a few minutes (especially you and your comfortable hugs, holding your hand, or just feeling your warm skin under his bare fingertips).

But now even the slightest contact with a stranger brought him immediately under the water. And the tiny touch from his crows raised the waves he had to calm in the privacy of his office.

He was rolling down. He knew it well. But he saw it as his personal punishment for hurting your feelings in a brutal way instead of gently cutting you off. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much.

Kaz knew he was fooling himself. He would suffer anyway. He let you go too deep under his skin, penetrate his essence, and know his soul too well to just give up on you, and forget about you.

And what terrified him most was that, given the choice, he would let you in again. Even knowing he would be devastated after letting you go.

But it was better for you. You deserved something better than this life you would live with him.

And that one thought kept him sane. That he did it for your own good, that wherever you are now, he's sure you're better off than you were in Ketterdam.

Which didn't stop him from checking every ship that came into port in the sick hope of seeing your angelic face.

He just had to get over his grief. He did the same with Jordie.

The only difference was that he didn't dream of holding his brother back in his arms like he dreamed of you.

Maybe I, maybe I��m just being blinded By the brighter side Of what we had because it’s over Well there must be something in the tide

Kaz was on your bed, reading one of your books you accidentally left behind. It was all he could do lately. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd left that room for anything other than food and a change of clothes. He missed you. And he had no idea what he should do.

He inhaled your faint scent on the pillows.

In some strange way (probably because of your ability to control the water), you always smelled of the sea, even when you weren't near the harbour. Kaz hated water and hated the salty sea smell that hit him whenever he passed near the harbour. It reminded him of Jordie. But inexplicably, the smell of the sea on you brought him comfort, safety... peace.

Now it was a reminder of something else—how he let you slip through his fingers. In fact, he pushed you away from himself.

He shook his head, trying not to think about you. However, the world was always against him and never made things easy for him. The fact that the dried flower had fallen out of the book onto his chest was proof of that.

With trembling hands, he set the book aside and reached for the flower, afraid he would ruin it. However, the need to see if his eyes were deceiving him was greater than the fear of spoiling such a precious thing.

He remembered that flower. He put it in your hair himself.

"Just the two of us in a field of flowers? If I didn't know you better, I'd think it was a date, boss." he rolled his eyes as you giggled at his reaction.

"Stop it. Or they'll notice us." he muttered, trying to ignore the cool wind that somehow made its way through the high grass. He wrapped his cloak around him, enviously noting that the girl next to him didn't seem to feel that cold. He internally slapped himself for wanting to share his cloak with her.

"I highly doubt they'd want to look for us in that thicket of grass. Besides, usually when a woman is giggling at a place and situation like this, stealing some noblewoman's jewels is the last thing on her mind, Kaz. The same applies to her potential partner."

"As if I heard Jesper." he sighed, focusing on the nobles in front of them. The plan was for Jesper to distract them while he and Y/N collected what they had come for. Simple and fast, if his childish desire to be paired with Y/N did not overwhelm his senses. She distracted him more than he could afford.

"You and Jes also had a secret meeting among the wildflowers? Now, I'm jealous."

"Jes?" he asked, turning his surprised gaze on her.

"Yes, do you mind?"

"You've known him for a week." he remarked dryly.

"Yes, and what?"

"It took you two months to start calling me by my first name, let alone a nickname."

"Just because you preferred to call me tidemaker instead of using my name."

"To be honest, it might have slipped my mind then." he muttered under his breath, not realising she heard him.

"You forgot my fucking name?! Kaz Brekker you are the most ignorant person I've ever seen." Kaz knew from the anger in her eyes that only his haphephobia kept him from getting his ass kicked by Y/N.

"Well, now I remember." he tried to defend himself.

"I don't care, Brekker. Now you can even call me the fucking Easter Bunny and I won't answer you anyway."

"Don't be a child, Y/N. Y/N?" Kaz sighed in frustration when he got no response from you.

He had to come up with something; he knew this name thing wouldn't be resolved until he appeased you properly. And he didn't have time to indulge in your sulks. You had to rob these people. (It's not like his heart ached when you were mad at him.)

Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that might help him. Your favourite flower, growing at his fingertips. He plucked a plant and put it behind your ear without thinking. You flinched at the sudden touch, staring at him in shock as the material of his gloves brushed your cheek as he pulled his hand away.

"Maybe I forgot your name then, but now I remember and know a lot more about you than just a stupid name."

"But how… how do you know I like y/f/f?" you asked in shock, never in your wildest dreams imagining that Kaz Brekker would bother with something like your favorite flower.

"You are my tidemaker. My most important investment. It's logical that I'll know you inside out."

"Should I be afraid or appreciate this unsettling but sweet effort?"

"You should know by now that nothing I do is sweet."

"Of course, big, terrible, Dirtyhands." you replied with a small smirk, similar to the one that kept Kaz from your sight.

To her, he could be more than Kaz Brekker. He could be Kaz Rietveld. And it terrified him more than the urge to reach out his hand again and fix her windblown hair.

The mastermind has been deceived by his own heart.

I’ve been told, I’ve been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, I need you by my side

"Zenik. Follow me." he muttered as he finally found the woman at the bar. He headed for his office without looking back, knowing full well that she would do as she was told this time.

"Yes, Kaz?"

"You are contacting Y/N." it wasn't a question. He knew it the moment Nina sent you her first letter a month ago.

He himself tried to send you his letter a week ago. It came back unopened, and the delivery man said no such person lives at this address. A lie he recognised without even knowing that Nina and you were still writing to each other.

"I am." she replied coolly. Kaz, seeing that he did not want to voluntarily cooperate, sighed and sat down in his chair. His leg was starting to hurt more and more often - another thing that went bad with you leaving.

"How is she?"

"Happy. Relatively. She is tormented by nightmares and unwanted thoughts about you." if Nina wanted to make him feel guilty, she did it brilliantly.

He already felt terrible without her judging eyes and dry answers. She must have seen the shadows under his eyes, as he did in his mirror. He had no right to pity himself. He knew it well. That's why he put up with Nina's attitude, in his stupid desire to know how you were doing.

"So… is she better off than here?"

"No. But that's not your problem anymore."

"Did she find someone?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of an affirmative answer.

"Possibly, things are evolving."

Kaz felt the world stop around him for a moment. The idea of someone else watching how you play with water and create ice sculptures, someone listening to your beautiful voice and making you laugh, someone capable of holding you and kissing you, made him sick. A sick sense of jealousy that Kaz only experienced when he saw the wealth of others.

A rash desire to come for you overtook him. He had to have you back. Before you fall in love with someone other than him.

"Do you think if we…"

"No, Kaz." Nina cut him off before he could ask a question. "You wanted to get rid of her, so hold on to your fucking decision. You hurt her, and you knew damn well you would, by ordering her to return to Ravka. Honestly, Kaz, did you think about how it would impact her? How she would feel? If you wanna break her heart again, go on. Chase her. Let's see if she forgives you also this time."

"Then what should I do?" he asked, and the desperation and hopelessness of his tone terrified both him and the woman standing in front of his desk. Nobody had ever seen him like this. Even you. And now he was ready to open up to anyone just to have you by his side again.

"Forget about her. After all, that's what you wanted, right?" he did not answer.

She was right. He wanted to get rid of you. Now he was paying the price, and he had no right to ask you to ease his pain and return to the Kettedram. Return to him. Which doesn't mean that his stupid heart will just let him forget about you. He's learned that over the months without you. And he cursed all the saints that he didn't know it until he gave you the cold shoulder.

Kaz no longer had the right to your affection. He had to accept it. He had to accept that he had given up his chance to love you. That now you had every right to go and love someone else. Even if the very idea drove him crazy and desperate.

He must have forgotten about you. For the sake of all of you.

But Nina's slamming of his office door only brought him back to his memories of you.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Kaz fell. He was in the most pathetic position.

He didn't care, though, as he sat like a fool on the shore of the same lake where he met you. At which he irreversibly gave you the remnants of his heart a few years ago, without even knowing it.

He told himself that Nina was right. Once he let you go, he had to persevere in that resolve. Ketterdam will only bring you pain... so why was it so hard for him to let go of his last ties to you?

"Why are you coming here with me?" your gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he stared spellbound at your little water show.

"Am I bothering you?" he asked, shifting in his place on the dock as he watched you float in the lake.

He wouldn't even dip his little toe in himself, but he liked to silently watch you become one with what was dear to you. And by the way, he could admire your skills and beauty as much as he wanted. He didn't have to look for any particular excuse.

"No. It's just that I've never seen you watch your other crows train."

"They're not like you." it slipped out before he could think about it. "If anyone sees you, I better get them before they announce to the world that one of the Black General's tidemakers has taken refuge with me." your smirk dropped at the mere mention of your former life. Kaz cursed in his mind. "You are also too valuable an investment. And the rest of the crows liked you. It's a big achievement. Inej doesn't let new people in so easily... me too."

"So you like me after all, boss?" you asked with that mischievous smirk on your lips that made his heart beat like crazy. Good thing water was your specialty. At least you didn't hear his heart pounding.

"You're tolerable company, and what you can do… what you can do is amazing."

"It's just little tricks." you murmured, forming different shapes out of the water. "At the king's parties, I was quite often one of the highlights." you waved your hand, freezing the water to form an ice statue. His statue. "Not every tidemaker is strong enough to freeze water." with another wave of your hand, to his silent displeasure, you melted the ice. "Not to mention turning ice into water again. Most just stop at its liquid form and don't train any more. I like to think I'm too curious to ever stop exploring my powers."

"Or stubborn." he said with a small smirk, listening to your wonderful laugh.

He must have been cursed from the start, since fate had put someone so perfect in his path... someone he could never have. But he could have been watching you. Enjoy his eyes with your beauty and his ears with the tone of your voice.

"Sometimes that's a good trait too. You taught me that yourself."

"How convenient for you to learn from me only what you want and not what you need."

"Sometimes what we want is more important than what we need and what is more rational for us."

"What for example?"

"Love." he tried to keep a poker face, but apparently his eyes betrayed more than he would have liked, as you gave him a confused, questioning look. "What? You've never been in love?"

NO. Not until he looked into your eyes and heard you laugh. Not until he got into your first argument with you and lost with a smile on his face. Not until he first saw you use your powers to outsmart the bandits who attacked you. Not until he saw how the moonlight in Ketterdam made your eyes shine even more than usual, so that you might as well have lit up all of the city with your beauty. Not until he first heard his name come out of your mouth. No, until he foolishly began to believe in Inej's saints, when he saw how tenderly and kindly you treat the orphans in the streets of Ketterdam.

"This silence means either a very powerful heartbreak, or you really only love a kruge."

"What if I really never loved anyone? What if I don't believe in love?" he whispered, looking up at you. You sneaked up to him so that you were standing in front of him. Water trickled down your hair and along your neck to the hand you held out to him. You opened your hand, handing him a small shell.

"The world is too cruel for such beliefs, Kaz. If we don't believe in love, why should we get out of bed at all? Why do we accumulate all these riches and try to survive each day?" Kaz didn't know the answer. Not one that would allow him to avoid the uncomfortable subject of his feelings for you.

He took the shell from you and, being careful not to break it, put it in his pouch. Along with the other little things you fished out of the water.

Your eyes met. You stared into the other's eyes for a moment, lost in your own dreams, which were not too different from each other... Yet neither of you had the courage to admit them out loud and risk everything you had been so carefully building between yourselves. Even if your hearts burned for more.

So he sat with you in silence, watching you play with the water and analysing what you told him. What was the reason for his existence?

Kaz from a year ago would have answered quickly and without thinking. Revenge. But now that he was looking at you, he wasn't so sure about his answer… or at least it was closer to something much different than his desire for revenge.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh It's your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in And I'm tired of being so exhausted

He sat behind his desk, involuntarily reminiscing about the day it all began.

The day he almost lost you. The day you almost died in his arms. The day you told him something he secretly wanted to hear but wasn't prepared for. The day he will curse forever.

This was your first assignment after returning from Ravka and the whole sun summoner thing. A childish, simple burglary. Something to warm up his crows—a return to the reality of Ketterdam without queens and kings and politics.

And so it was. You filled your pockets with valuables and were about to leave when one of the guards spotted you. They were much better armed than you (it was supposed to be a simple robbery with no witnesses and no blood spilled, so you only had daggers and knives "just in case") and strangely familiar with all the secret passages in the small mansion.

Even though you found yourself in a terrible situation, you managed to leave the property. You laid out in the finish as you and Kaz ran towards the club. One of the guards shot at you and hit you. Very accurate, almost piercing your heart with a bullet.

Kaz stared dazedly as you screamed in pain as you clutched your chest and tumbled onto the muddy, cobbled road. He reacted faster than he thought, throwing the dagger at the man who shot you and killing him instantly. Inej would have praised him for such a throw.

But that effective kill didn't matter to him now. He ran over to you in a panic and kneeled beside you, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. He hissed as he saw the blood pouring down your skin.

"Kaz..." you groaned, looking at him terrified. Kaz ripped off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around your waist, trying to stop the gushing blood. "Cold." you mumbled, shivering in his arms. Brekker didn't even notice as he placed you in his lap; he was too busy to stop the bleeding until he found bloody Zenik. Where was she when he really fucking needed her?

"Shhh…. I know. Just try to hold on a little longer, okay? Nina and Jes will be here soon." he tried to calm you down by running his hand through your sweat-soaked hair. He rocked you back and forth, not knowing who he was trying to reassure—you or himself.

"We both know they won't make it on time."

"If you're wasting your energy talking, at least say something useful instead of talking nonsense, tidemaker." he growled at you, tightening his grip on you. "You're not getting away from me that fast. I didn't invest so much in you to make you leave before…" Until I tell you how much you mean to me... "Until we fill our vault with tonnes of Kruge."

"I could have predicted that even on my deathbed you'd be talking about the fucking Kruges." you laughed, coughing up some blood, which didn't calm his already madly beating heart. Where is that damn Zenik?

"Die in my arms and I promise I'll go back to hell for you. The devil can wait for you - I signed a pact with you first." you suddenly became serious, squeezing his gloved hand tighter and staring into his eyes as if they were the only stars in your dark sky.

"Kaz… I… I have to tell you…"

"Shut up, Y/L/N. You're not dying today." he snarled a warning, squeezing you so hard that he was sure to leave bruises on your arms. Panic rose in him as he felt your body slowly go limp, your breaths becoming less and less frequent.

"Kaz… I love you." you whispered, making him freeze in a daze. You only said those words in his wildest dreams. He had secretly dreamed of it many times, but certainly not like this. Not while your soul was slowly escaping from this cruel world unworthy of you.

He doesn't remember exactly when Nina came running, or how Jesper took you out of his arms, or how he kept up with Jesper's frantic pace as he ran with you in his arms.

But he surely was shaking all the way to the Crow Club. He only breathed a few hours after Nina announced to everyone that you would live. Then he left, without even entering your room to make sure Zenik's words were true, and locked himself in his office.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as he leaned against the door.

He could have lost you. Forever. Another person close to him.

His dreams would be tormented by the sight of your bloody corpse in some dirty alley. Again, he felt like that helpless little boy who had lost his brother. He found himself with Jordie THERE again.

Kaz couldn't go through all of it again. He wouldn't get up after your death. And there was only one thing he could do...

Fuck it all.

He needed you.

He was too exhausted to pretend any longer.

He was Kaz Brekker. He didn't need a reason. But his slowly dying heart without you seemed to be enough of an excuse to see you. Even if you're going to completely break it. Even the cold Bastard from the Barrel saw it as a good deal.

"JESPER!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair with his cane in hand.

"Yes?" his friend was at his side faster than ever.

"Tell the others to pack up. We're leaving in an hour." he muttered, taking out his travel bag from the wardrobe. Even without turning around, he knew a big smile had formed on Jesper's face.

We're going to get my girl back.

"About the damn time, Kaz." he patted him on the back and ran out of his office, telling the other crows the good news.

Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Even though I'm nothing to you now Even though I'm nothing to you now

Kaz had been afraid of a few things in his life, but walking through the threshold of your new apartment seemed to be the most terrible of all his fears.

His crows obeyed him without objection for the first time in their lives and stayed at the hotel. He came here. On trembling legs and a rapidly beating heart. With his soul on his shoulder, ready to sacrifice and do anything to get you back. And if you didn't change your mind, it would be with a mind ready to carve your image into his memory so he could enjoy seeing you one last time in his miserable life.

Before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door.

He waited patiently, hearing footsteps approaching. He held his breath as the key turned in the lock.

But you weren't the one who opened the door for him.

"What?" a well-built, dark-haired man stood in the doorway.

Kaz began to compare himself to him, concluding that, when it came to appearance, he was superior to him in everything. He didn't stand a chance against someone like that for your heart. Doubts began to flood back into him. What if Nina was right?

"Are you going to stand here for half a day or..."

"Jackson!" your voice from the depths of the apartment shook Kaz. It froze him completely, irritating the man in front of him even more. "I need your help here, you big fool. What are you doing?" a moment later, you were standing in the vestibule. Your eyes met. Kaz shivered under your gaze, cursing himself for how quickly he fell under your spell as he stood there completely dazed.

"Y/N." your name came out of his mouth reverently, like a prayer, like a song long forgotten by a wanderer. You looked exactly the same as you did a few months ago. Except for the faint shadows under his eyes, which Kaz considered his greatest enemies.

"Kaz."

"Jackson. Hello there." the man waved at him, stepping between you. Jackson looked at you, worried. Kaz felt both anger welling up in him, a feeling of envy at how close you were with this strange guy, but also relief that you had someone close to take care of you. Not that you couldn't overcome the worst hell alone. He just felt relieved that you didn't have to. "Let him in, or should I kick his ass, wave?"

Wave? Did you two have nicknames for each other?

"It's all right. You can leave us." you said as you walked past him to face Kaz. The man behind you sighed, shaking his head.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

It might as well have been directed at Kaz. For the first time in his whole new Dirtyhands' life, he didn't have a plan, an emergency exit, or another backup plan. But now he was standing in front of you, staring at you helplessly as he absorbed your form. And that damn sea smell in your hair...

"Kaz."

"Y/N." he said as he came back down to earth. He took a small, calming breath. "How are you?"

"Really? Are you here just to ask how I'm doing?" she asked incredulously, folding her arms.

Kaz wrinkled his nose at your dry, angry tone. As he could see, it would be even more difficult than he thought. He stood in front of you, twirling his cane nervously in his hands.

"I'm here for a completely different reason, but I couldn't… I couldn't not come and see you." he admitted turning his gaze back to you after lowering his head in embarrassment.

"I'm alright. My brother and I are having a great time."

"Brother?" he asked. Relief and joy washed over him. Nor could he help himself to this naive hope, which began to warm his cold heart.

"Yes... Jackson. Who did you think he was?" he did not answer. You could have guessed. He knew you saw the flicker of jealousy in his eyes after that strange man called you a wave. You were his tidemaker, his wave, his sea, and all the fucking things. For a moment, he forgot that he was the one who had deprived himself of the right to claim against you. "You saw me, you asked how I was, so you can go now. Goodbye, Kaz." you were about to close the door on him, but at the last moment he put his cane between them, preventing you from doing so. You opened your door again, giving him a questioning look.

"Come back with me." he whispered, defeated. He couldn't let you go. Not again, not after there was still the slightest chance you might still want him.

"What?" you whispered softly, pretty sure you misheard him.

"There's no other reason why I'm here... I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I can't think or function like a normal person without you next to me. I'm one step away from daydreaming about you, hallucinating, and being insane that you're still by my side, so please... I'm begging you to come back to me. I know I don't deserve you and that I hurt you. You have every right to kick me out, but please, Y/N, just come home."

"What exactly am I supposed to come back to, Kaz? A cold, surly boss who is afraid of his feelings? Who doesn't hesitate to hurt me to protect his heart?"

"I'm not... I'm not good at this. Feelings. I... I don't know what it's like to love, but I know that when I'm with you... when I'm with you, nothing else matters. Not Ketterdam, not power, not Kruge, not wealth, not profit—nothing has ever been on my pedestal. Only you. Always you. And maybe I'm terrified of it, but now I know that I'd rather fight my own demons for you than let you go. I will try my best. If you still want me." he stared at you with undisguised hope in his eyes, only now realising how close he had come to you during your conversation. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek uncertainly. "I love you, Y/N... even if I'm nothing to you now." he murmured, risking everything and resting his forehead against yours with a sigh.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

He inhaled your scent with his eyes closed, waiting for your move. Hope grew with him every second you continued to let him be so close to you.

"You're an idiot, Kaz Brekker." he didn't contradict or argue with you. He was a complete idiot, pushing you away and begging you to come back, all the while acting like a love-crazy fool… however, he wouldn't have it any other way if it meant you taking your place in his office again. If someday he could hold you in his arms… "You have lucky you're my idiot. With all of your bruises, scars, and everything else." you promised, hugging him tighter. You pulled away from him with serious eyes, making Kaz swallow. "But if you do that shit again, forget I'm coming back to you. Also, we need to seriously work on your communication, Brekker. Do you know how long I've had to struggle here with that other idiot who claims to be my brother?"

"I can hear all of it!" you sighed at your brother's grumbling and gave Kaz a meaningful look. Brekker smiled slightly, causing a matching goofy smirk to appear on your face.

"See? But seriously, I'm not kidding. Last chance, Kaz."

"A deal is a deal. You're never going anywhere without me again."

"A red flag!" your brother coughed from the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the edge of Kaz's coat sleeve.

"Shut up, Jackson. I'm leaving, I'll be back in an hour! Try not to burn down the apartment, spitfire."

You didn't wait for his answer as you slammed the door behind you and stepped out with Kaz into the street. Brekker led you towards the hotel where the other crows were staying. His hand in yours, which did not escape your notice. You turned your head towards him, giving him a confused look, which made him smile slightly, shifting his gaze to the port and the sea.

At one point, he noticed that one of the waves "attacked" a trader, washing him over. He cursed so loudly that you could hear him even from this distance. Kaz shifted his gaze to you, immediately noticing the sly smirk on your face. Suddenly, the wallet fell from the sky right into your waiting hand, along with droplets of salty, cool water.

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. A self-satisfied smirk formed on his face after seeing your blush.

One day, he will be able to touch you without his gloves. Hold in your arms without layers of clothes on. He will do it. No matter how long it takes him to get rid of the greatest demon of his past. But something told him that you'd keep his head from going under the water again. His queen of waves. His crow. His anchor. And he will make sure that he holds you in his arms forever.

907 notes · View notes