#// and he's out here not only trying to figure out why this skull is screaming its head off

[archilich]

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 6:

Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

----

A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.

You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.

What...?

You could hardly think.

The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.

You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.

The Joker.

"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.

This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?

You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.

The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.

"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"

He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.

"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.

A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.

"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"

A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.

It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.

That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.

The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.

"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.

It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...

"Batman?!"

The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.

"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."

"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.

"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.

Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.

Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.

Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.

Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.

"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.

"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.

"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"

"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."

What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.

"You." He smiles.

He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"

He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.

Up.

What could you do?

Down.

Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.

Up.

Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.

Down.

The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.

Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.

Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.

You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.

BANG!

"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.

But..

Why didn't he shoot you?

"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.

There's a crowbar in his hands.

"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"

"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.

He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.

"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.

The Joker's reply is simple.

"Nope!"

He swings.

BANG!

A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.

You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.

He's wearing a red helmet.

"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.

"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.

“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”

“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.

“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.

There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.

A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.

You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.

Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.

Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?

You gulp.

“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.

Exposed.

“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.

Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.

“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.

“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.

In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.

Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?

That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.

Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.

Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.

“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.

“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.

Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.

Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.

You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.

Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.

You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.

----

Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!

Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.

A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(

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Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. Hopefully I can tag the remaining people in a comment!

[sugoi-writes]

KNY HCs - A Surprise Kiss! Part 2

Prompt: You give them a kiss unexpectedly; how do they react, when they like you back?

A/N- Next part is here!!! Sorry i struggled to get this part out. This part includes Genya, Nezuko, Obanai, Mitsuri, Gyomei, Tengen, and Muichiro. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a part featuring demons (especially Upper Moons and whatnot). Anyways, this was really fun! Please enjoy! 💗💗💗

Content warning: some implied steaminess for some of the Hashira, and spoilers for the newest season (Sword Village). Proceed with caution if you haven't watched/read ahead! 💀💗💀

Genya

He has a hard time around people who are typically femme, but it literally wouldn't matter who or what you were: because you're still his type.

The second you get within 5 ft, he's blushing. The second you touch, his veins are gonna burst in his skull. The second that touch becomes a kiss...

Genya.exe has stopped working.

He is absolutely stunned into silence. He makes no move to continue the kiss or move away. But you seem to be able to tell that he didn't mind it. Not ONE bit.

You would take his hand, apologize for being too forward, and probably make yourself scarce around him. You figure this would be best if you really did overwhelm him.

It would take quite a few days, but similar to Sanemi, he confronts you head on. Whether it's grabbing you by your haori, or slamming his arms on either side of your head... Hes got you trapped. Even though his face is still BEET red...

"I-I don't understand yet... wh-why you'd do that to a guy like me... but..." He would hesitate for a moment, before planting a kiss on your cheek.

" But... I'll try... to become a guy worthy of your kiss."

Even if you try and reassure him, or persuade him into thinking he's a million bucks, he will go over the moon to impress you, protect you, etc. He wants to be better than what you want him to be: he wants to be your equal.

And while it certainly takes him a while to loosen up, his kisses are some of the sweetest and most sincere. He would try to hold your face, every time. He would never truly want to let you go of you and your warm cheeks.

Nezuko

"Hmmm...~ Hmm-hmmm-- mmm?"

Nezuko, who is humming and fixing her hair, is surprised when you kiss her. She'd blink a few times, her cheeks glistening with a rosy blush. She still struggles with most words, but smiles warmly to you.

"Th...tha...! Thank... you... Y/...N-san!"

You practically scream with delight. This would be the first time you heard her say your name!!!

Like many humans, Nezuko is very protective of you. But you find that she hovers around you a little more recentky, similar to how she treats Tanjiro. Almost as if you're a guide, interpreter, or just a person she can confide in, she'll often reach out to be near you. Whether it's holding your pinky with hers, tugging on your haori, or even grabbing your hand, she likes to stay in close proximity, especially if she can make physical connection with you somehow.

She sometimes struggles (mentally) with being close to you, especially in fear that her fangs may injure you, but her kisses are short and sincere. Similar to Shinobu, she would kiss you most anywhere but your lips publically... but every once in a while, you're blessed with direct kisses.

"T...thank goodness... Y-You like me too... Y/N-san...!

Obanai

Eyes narrowed with steely focus, he would be absorbed in his work, or freshly sheathing his sword. You roughly grasp him by the collar, forcing him to finally look your way.

"What is it you're doi--mmphm?!"

When do you finally get him to shut up? ONLY when you're kissing him. Even with a kiss over his bandages, Obanai flushes vividly, pushing you away. He turns away, checking his bandages hastily.

"NEVER surprise me like that!! You're lucky I didn't have a chance to react properly...!" You were about to apologize, when you see his shoulders relax," hah.... the bandages didn't move, after all..." The relief that floods his voice almost makes you want to cry. You were trying not to pity him, knowing he had his reasons to hide his face. But you wish he didn't feel the desire to keep those bandages on... or better yet, the shame he felt when they came off.

You place a hand on his shoulder, making him tense up.

"Obanai... next time I kiss you... if you're okay with it, i... I wouldn't mind it if it were without your bandages on."

That statement alone has him wide eyed, staring at you with disbelief," I... I don't..." For once, his stoic expression and tone is replaced with one of unease and uncertainty.

"I... I don't know if I'm ready for... that..." he would admit quietly," But... I appreciate the sentiment. I truly do."

You'd smile up/down to him, and place a kiss on his cheek instead," Whenever you're ready. I could wait a thousand years, if you'd have me..." Obanai squints at you, bluntly replying," We'd both be dead by then..."

You smile, winking," Then in the next life, maybe?"

Obanai would flush quietly as you'd walk away, reaching up to gently press the spot you last kissed him at,"... I see... maybe so, Y/N-san... Maybe so...."

BLESS you, if you ever do kiss him without his bandages on. Though his scars may have surprised you at first, it doesn't affect how sweet or chaste his kisses are. And once you receive them in earnest, they never stop... 

Oh, and the over protectiveness with you? Multiply it by 20. People aren't allowed to breathe the same air you do unless he allows it. And your missions, from henceforth, are either accompanied with or monitored by himself or Mitsuri. Almost NO exceptions.

Mitsuri

"Y/N! Y/N! Look here, look here!!" Surely, Kanroji has something absolutely adorable to show you. You turn to her quickly, pushing your hair back out of your face.

"What is it, Kanroj--"

The both of you turned too quickly, causing your lips to meet in the middle. Immediately, the two of you pull away from the other. Mitsuri whines, bowing her head rapidly.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry!!! I-I didn't mean to!!"

You have to grasp Mitsuri by her shoulders, before she listens to you again," Kanroji-san!!! It's okay, I promise!!! W-We're friends, after all... accidents happen."

Mitsuri's expression changes slightly, her lip quivering," R-Right... friends..."

You go back to your task at hand, not picking up on her disheartened cue. You notice her squirming beside you after a few moments, making you concerned.

"Mitsuri? Are you ok--"

Your lips meet again. This time... on purpose. Mitsuri clasps your cheeks with both hands, planting a fat kiss on your lips, before pulling away.

"Th-There!!! That one wasn't an accident!!! And that's going to be the first of many... I-- I--! Aaaahh, I don't want to just be friends, Y/Nnnnnn!!! Not anymore!!!" Mitsuri basically wails, making you smile sweetly.

You lean over again to kiss her, soothing her mild tantrum if only for a moment," I dont think I want to be 'just friends' either, Mitsuri... so we're partners now. Okay?"

Mitsuri would nod rapidly, mentally swearing herself to you, for protection and for marriage," Deal!!!!"

She's already planning your wedding. She hints at what kind of ceremony she prefers, or flowers she'd like to have in her decore... little does she know, you've already been saving up for something big... maybe her birthday could double as your wedding day?

But for now, that's wishful thinking. For now, you're quite alright with sneaking quick, heated kisses before major missions, and cuddling your tired, full partner after she gorges on her favorite food.

Neither of you mind. But the both of you know that you're actively working towards a future where there's more to your relationship than sweet kisses and embraces.

Gyomei

In a deep, meditative state, Gyomei sat practically motionless as you quietly approached him. Due to this, he hadn't heard you or your sweet giggles are you inched closer. You had always been his number one, secret admirer... and seeing him so content and serene made you want to kiss him. He just looked so beautiful, dangit!

Even with him sat before you, Gyomei was MUCH larger than you... but no matter!

Nimbly, you were able to wiggle closer, admiring the calm breathing of the Stone Pillar. It wasn't until you brushed your lips against his that his eyes instinctively fluttered open. As if from a deep slumber, Gyomei blinks a few times, dazed," Oh... I'm sorry, is this... Y/N?"

You nod and hum, knowing he knew your voice all too well," Guilty as charged~" Gyomei's eyes watered as he heard a genuine, airy laugh leave you, his hands folding neatly into his lap.

"Ahh... so the pining wasn't one sided, after all...," Gyomei sighs, as if relieved. You blink and audibly swallow, your face heating up.

"I-I guess not, Gyomei-san," you reply in surprise, reaching your hand down to brush a stray tear from his cheek. Had you known he had liked you back, you would have kissed him MUCH sooner...

Gyomei smiles brilliantly, tilting his head up as if to look at you,"... if that is the case, my friend... if you don't mind, I'd like you to join me by my side."

You have to calm yourself down as he pats the space beside him. You take him up his request, sitting and scooting closer until your knee bumped his. You feel a large, warm arm wrap around you, pulling you closer until your head was against his chest. Your face burned as Gyomei chuckled.

"...thank you for taking the initiative, Y/N-san. I admire your forwardness. I just wish I could have made that first kiss more..."

"Special?" You finished, Gyomei nodding back quietly.

"W-Well, that's okay-- I already feel like kissing you, on its own, is very special. But..." You sit up, before crawling into his lap. Gyomei would tense up, flushing as a coy grin makes it way to your face.

"I think we can make the next kiss particularly special... if you'll have me."

Gyomei couldnt reply verbally, as the impulse to kiss you tenderly overshadowed the flowery words and praise he wanted to give you.

His kisses were many, and they would be mostly reserved for your cheeks and temples. But most of all, your kisses would be an assured way to make his heart race. Due to his blindness, kisses feel electrifying to him. Making your kisses together all the more special and intimate for him. He loves you to bits, and would never pass up on a chance to engage with you, especially through touches and those sweet, featherlight kisses. Even if others may be close by...~

Tengen

Little to anyone's surprise, Tengen is a HUGE flirt. It didn't matter if it was a stranger or his bestie Rengoku: he would relentlessly do and say things that would tetter on raunchy or sappy. This, however, was something you were used to. And at times, you'd welcome it.

Tengen, many times, had made jokes about you becoming his fourth spouse. Quote him: "Afterall, who said polygamy had a 4 person limit~?"

You'd normally roll your eyes, and playfully shove him, not knowing what his other spouses thought of you. But after getting to know him more, and even being over to his estate a few times, the jokes felt more... sincere. As if he were wanting to propose more properly.

So finally, after a particularly rough Hashira meeting, Tengen would look at you again, with a serene look in his eyes," ...Y'know, Y/N... if you ever considered settling down more properly, or commitment in general... I think you'd make a really good spouse. The others think so, too." He would grin, nudging you playfully," Theres always room for one more, yknow~ "

And, after a few quiet moments, you hadn't yet replied. No shoving, no tickling, just... a heavy sigh. Tengen starts to worry he offended you... until you pull him down/up for a kiss.

Tengen, being the good man he is, immediately leans into it, eyes closing on their own. When you finally decide to part for air, you're absolutely beaming.

"Well, while I can't accept your 'proposal' without the others consent... I wouldn't mind being courted. Normally, yknow..." Tengen looks practically speechless, as your arms snake around to hang on his neck.

" How about we start slow... maybe dinner at your place, next time we meet? Im sure the 5 of us have a lot to talk about before we take it too far..."

Tengen, surprised that his forwardness may have actually paid off, smiles tenderly. He pulls away from you, only to take one of your hands. He guides it to his lips and kisses you knuckles, running his thumb in circles along your warm skin.

"Suma, Hina, Makio, and I... we'd be honored, Y/N. Let's shoot for next weekend, then."

Muichiro

"Huh...? What did you want to see me about, again?" Mui would probe, following behind you.

"I-I just wanted to go somewhere more private, to tell you something." You'd reply evenly, a steady blush spreading across your face.

"Is that so... lead the way then, Y... ahh, sorry, Y/N-san." You roll your eyes. Surely he hadn't forgotten your name so easily. Maybe he was teasing you?

As you finally get to a more private area, you turn towards him, face heated," Muichiro... I have to say it."

The mist hashira would look to you, eyes widening," Ahh... did I forget something again...? Sorry... I still struggle... even now, i guess," he would admit, making your knitted brows soften.

"N-No... you didn't forget anything... but..." You lean forward, trying to kiss him on the cheek, before he recoils quickly. You blink in surprise, face twisting in regret. Oh shit... so you were rejected huh... You can't muster any words as he looks at you, bewildered.

"...were you trying to kiss me?"

You were flustered, assuming your hunch was correct, but you nod shamefully. Then, Muichiro pulls you in by your wrist, placing a soft kiss to your lips. You gasp, taken by surprise even as Muichiro lets you go.

"...sorry... I feel like I would be able to treasure your kiss better... if I initiated it. I hope that's alright with you."

The both of you are perfectly flush now, but you smile warmly back to him, pulling him in for a hug," Well, if you ever forget... I can always kiss you again?" Muichiro would have an idea, leaning his head on your shoulder," Mmm... I think I'm in need of a reminder."

[baestruly]

i'll be there

( ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  spencer reid x reader

⤷ IN WHICH, you're stressed with work, but spencer is there to help you

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - hurt x comfort, fluff

The caress of sweet, warm sunlight might have been a balm on your skin, had it not been for the relentless pressure trapped within your head ━━ a tumultuous symphony of pounding echoes and silent screams.

The evening sun lashed out like a fiery whip, scorching your vision as you massaged wearied eyes, only to stir the relentless ache burrowing deeper within your head.

It wasn’t just the sunlight causing you to be in distress, it was the amount of paperwork you still had to get done. Even though you’ve been trying to multitask all week, you had to do it on the plane while also managing to find leads or behaviours on the criminals while also having to run home to your apartment because you received a text from your dog sitter ━━ who you pay probably too much, to look after your new dog saying he had ripped the whole place apart. Your needs, blankets, almost all of your pillows and of course, the couch!

Your therapist had recommended you get a job because of the stress you have been under for your new job. Yeah, new. Maybe that’s why you seemed like the odd one out because everyone was so much more experienced than you were. Of course, they had to start somewhere, but you felt like a rookie beside them, especially the smartest one, Spencer Reid, only having been on the force for around a month. 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, the voices were getting to be too much. 

You’re a failure, you’ll never be as good as them! Get your head straight, you’re not thinking like a profiler, there's so much going on! It goes on and on and on━━

“Y/N?” 

Someone's voice snaps you from your thoughts, all of them shattering like glass as they scrape your skull. It bled, just like the blood on the floor of that poor girl━━

“Y/N? Hey━━hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” His voice was tinged with a palpable mixture of concern and fear, the words tumbling from him like a cascade of worry. He was closer now, having his shaky but reassuring hand on your arm. You weren’t able to feel the warmth because of the thick knitted sweater you wore for the colder months of November.

His eyes spiralled, reading every inch of expression on your face. By now, he could’ve figured it out and profiled you on his own━━hell, it wouldn’t even take a profiler to tell how stressed out you were, goddammit. But, he waited patiently, letting you know he was here despite his efforts to stay calm to keep you calm.

It wasn’t working.

 Spencer has always been the hesitant and shy type. Not when it came to his interests━━which were mostly about anything, really━━or profiling, but when it came to feelings, emotion or conversations, the poor guy was clueless.

Deep down you knew he had a good heart. You don’t think you’ve admired someone this much before, especially a friend.

You tried to stare into his eyes, but the voices in your head started again. This time, it wasn’t about the dog or your cold case, or even the bloody walls of the family home you’d visited on Wednesday.

You suddenly realized how terrified you were of dumping this on Spencer. The stress of this moment was too much, he was waiting for an answer and you couldn’t just stand there! Like that statue━━no, you couldn’t do that, not now.

“I━━I’m fine, Spencer.” You sprung from your seat, quickly pacing and turning your back to him as you picked up a few files from where you had been frantically working at your desk, giving yourself something to focus on other than the voices in your head and walls that were starting to crumble behind your eyes.

Like the crumpling statue on the ground.

You clenched your teeth. You needed to focus to get your shit done and get home in time to be able to sleep and eat! You haven't eaten anything all day?! Holy shit━━

Spencer stood in confusion and worry. His mind started scrambling thinking of ways to go about the situation. You’d think when it came to profiling he’d know exactly what to do or say that may help you or set you off, but when it came to you, the closest friend he’s ever made in less than a month, he was clueless, he didn’t want to make things worse.

Profiling was different, he didn’t know those people. 

He knew you.

And he guesses that his greatest fear at that moment was seeing you in distress, and not knowing what to do that would make it better. 

The girl's body lay limp in the bedroom. The throat detached like the grey, morbid statue, symbolizing nothing like the bloody corpse of who was once a bright happy girl, the soul ripped away from her.

You continued to pace around the room, grabbing your hair and clearing your throat. 

“Is there━━um, anything you want me to do? I’ll do it, Y/N just are—are you okay? Talk to me.”

You stopped, finally facing him, and that’s when Spencer could finally see your face.

But your eyes were red, like you had been crying before and bags were deeply engraved under your eyes as your hair became messier each time you ran your shaky hand through it. 

His heart broke a little. 

“I j━━just, okay━━I have a dog, the sitters have been calling me all week!” You shouted in frustration. Spencer blinked, startled, but he listened, brows furrowing. “Now she’s not there━━and I can’t even use my bed let alone the━━the couch and━━this case has gone cold, now we have another one and there’s just so many dead ends━━“ You stopped.

Silence.

“I just need everything to stop.” That’s it, the walls be damned because you couldn’t fucking hold it anymore no matter how hard you fought. And you think it’s safe to say you’ve fought hard enough this week. “I need to just shut my mind off.”

Your voice cracked as your breaths heaved in and out of your chest, somewhat relieved to get it all out. Now that your thoughts become your words, it only makes them more real.

You couldn’t breathe at all, every inhale you took as you doubled over in panic and distress didn’t fill your lungs, which only made your eyes widen with fear as your heart thundered in your ears. 

“Crap━━(Y/N), breathe with me alright? Okay, just one breath in━━" Spencer ran to your side, leading you to the sofa as he kneeled in front of you so his face was in your view. “Breathe out, nice and slow, you got it.” 

Your breath shook viscously with each inhale you took, but Spencer didn’t mind, nor did he seem to care about how crazy you thought you looked right now. Instead, he nodded at you with encouraging eyes when you opened yours, trying to find balance in his presence while he slowly and gently rubbed his thumb on the side of your cold hands.

“I’m good, I’m good.” You choke out with one last exhale now that your breathing seems to go back to normal. You were still out of breath as the lump in your throat remained.

“Hey, I know, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He says softly but reassuringly, eyes glistening with concern and admiration for your efforts. Your bold personality always interested him, that’s why he’d been so shocked to see you in a state like this. Although you were bold, you seemed to close yourself off when it came to emotions. “Now, you’re fine with this today, alright?”

“No, I n━━“

He shushed you gently. “I know, Emily’s got it for you for the rest of the night. You need rest.”

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you followed Spencer to his car before feeling a sense of relief to be away from the office for a moment as the cold air from outside turned warmer with every second you sat in the seat with him. It was oddly comforting, and you breathed deeply, finding it easier to control it now. 

But of course, it all hit you.

“God━━Spence, I am so so sorry, shit━━"

“No! No, it’s okay, believe me when I say this, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He blinked a few times before scrunching his nose. “90 percent of people struggling do not speak up because, well, they’re scared of judgement, the other half of it being embarrassment when really, we have nothing to be embarrassed of. Everyone feels, you know. It’s basically impossible for all of us bring in our positions in this job to not be affected by the tragedies we see.”

“Wow, Spencer Reid, as a genius profiler I would’ve expected you to know not everyone feels.” She let out a breathy laugh, the skin under your eyes feeling dry from your tears. 

Spencer felt better that you were trying to lighten the mood. He smiled softly looking down at his hands as he nodded. “You know what I mean!” 

“Yes, Reid, I do.” You smiled back. “So, where are we going?”

“When you’re stressed out it’s better to do things that keep your mind away from it.” He starts. You knew that too. “Doing something peaceful is another effective way.”

“Sounds perfect.” You sighed a sigh of relief, leaning your head back slightly so it touched the seat. You felt reassured knowing Reid was here with you and was willing to help. Maybe all you needed was an extra hand, instead of putting more problems on yourself.

“Reid?” You say, hesitantly turning to look at him. You could feel the admiration luring out of them. “Thank you.”

He smiled, eyes thoughtful. “Of course. I want to help you.”

Although you remained seated, you encircled him in an awkward yet secure embrace, needing to convey just how grateful you were for his presence in that moment and in your life.

“Your heart━━it’s beating really fast.” You say softly once you pull away from his warm embrace. “You sufre you’re not stressed about anything right now?” 

“Well━━there, uh, maybe one thing.” He stuttered, as his nervous but warm hands cupped your face, his thumb glinting across your skin much like the time back at the BAU when he held your hand during your panic attack. 

“Wouldn’t take a profiler to figure it out.” You whispered, your lips softly pressing against his, delicate and soft. He kissed you as if you were fragile and his hand was the only thing keeping you together as his lips moved against yours. His hand moved into your hair, caressing your head hoping his kisses could make all your pain go away.

You could sense his smile against yours, lips stretching into a thin line of joy, as your laughter tangled messily with his. Admiration was pumping through your veins, but nothing compared to the love pumping in your rapidly beating heart, all your stress being replaced with warmth and admiration.

If Spencer became the air that filled your lungs, the very breath of your existence, you'd no longer need to learn how to breathe.

a/n: that was my first time writing for spencer so pls be nice!!

i haven't wrote in a while but i'm happy to be back! please request anything for spencer in my request box

spencer reid masterlist           masterlist

also request anything! 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You're An Idol And You're Revealing Your Relationship

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I’ve tried to get them all different which is why some take place on stage and others in other situations, Hope that’s okay love. 

CHAN:

Chan had somehow gotten it into his head that the best time and place for the two of you to reveal your relationship to the world would be at a concert in Sydney. He figured it would be a good place, the place he grew up in would be the first place to know all about his love for you. You'd even managed to make sure your schedules aligned and you could be alongside him when he did it all.

"So this is the part of the show where we get to talk to you all and let you know what's been going on in our lives," Chan spoke clearly into the microphone but anyone could see his hands were shaking a little. You knew he was nervous about this and who wouldn't be? You were practically biting your nails down to the bed.

"As you all know Yn and I have been friends for years, ever since I came to Korea..." Chan began to go on a whole speech about you, your whole body heating up as you listened to him compliment you in every way.

"There's something we need to tell you though...Yn and I are no longer friends." The crowd began to "awh" to him and the boys all smirked over at you behind the stage.

"We're together...Romantically." Chan added with a giant grin on his face, opening his arms for you to come out on stage and you froze for a second. Waiting for anyone to be booing but they all seemed to be cheering so you ran out there and smiled, hugging your boyfriend's chest.

MINHO:

It was only a matter of time before rumours of your relationship with Minho began to spread and you, and your team, had already prepared for it. Minho and you had released a song together a month back and now it was beginning to circulate that the two of you were in a relationship - which was true. The song had been your company's idea of soft-launching your relationship to the world, even the music video featured you and Minho doing a lot of couple-like things and everyone seemed to be reacting well to the news. Some even said they'd seen it at the start of your "friendship."

"You all know I released a song with Minho recently, and tonight we thought we'd give you a special performance!" You yelled out into the microphone, smiling brightly as people inside the arena cheered your name. Minho walked out onto the stage, smirking at you as he stood beside you.

"Before we start though, we have to let you in on a secret," Minho told them, winking at you before you both told them all you were in a relationship. None of them seemed surprised by the news but it was safe to say they were excited by the screams that they were letting out.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin was looking at you as he nervously bounced his leg up and down on the spot, it was obvious that the two of you were nervous about what you were going to do since it wasn't approved by either of your managers.

"You're sure about this?" You whispered to him, your relationship had already been rumoured since the start but this was going to be the first time either of you was going to be confirming it and live on air was a pretty insane way to do it.

"More than," He whispered back, squeezing your hand as the camera panned over to you both.

"Welcome back! We're joined by Changbin and Yn who are here to be interviewed about what it's like working in the same company in different settings," The cameras felt like they were suddenly burning a hole into your skull and you smiled warmly, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling inside of you. The interview started off easy, you were asked if there was much difference for you than Changbin since he was in a group and then you continued to talk about your scheduling.

"Is there anything else we should know?" Was the question you'd been slightly dreading but you looked at Changbin and both smirked,

"Well, dating in companies is usually forbidden but...You can't help where you find love." Changbin stated, gasps were heard from inside the studio and you didn't dare turn to look at your manager who was no doubt cursing you out.

"Are you confirming the rumours?!" The presenter seemed more excited than you and you nodded with a small laugh, the interview completely derailing and going on about the two of you.

HYUNJIN:

It was Hyunjin's first-ever solo interview and it was safe to say he was more than a little nervous, in fact, he was extremely nervous and not because of the interview. He'd done so many at this point that they were a walk in the park, all of them except this one. This was one different because it was going to be about him revealing his relationship with you. It was a fashion function he'd been invited along to which you happened to be performing at and you both decided to debut your relationship tonight.

"You look fantastic tonight, who dressed you?" Hyunjin began to explain his outfit in detail and did a small spin for the cameras who all began to take photos of him. 

"Is there anyone you're looking forward to seeing tonight?" Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at you, you were already heading inside of the venue and he turned back to the cameras.

"My partner, Yn, I cant wait to watch them perform live and show my love for them." He winks before the interviewer bombarded him with more questions about the two of you.

JISUNG:

Dispatch was getting ready to tell the world about their couple of the year and you knew it was you and Jisung, you'd been warned by JYPE and your managers that your relationship was going to be outed to the world and you'd both decided you were going to be at everyone to it.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight, I know you're all also excited to go home and learn about dispatch's new couple." You teased into the microphone, it was the end of your concert and you were getting antsy about what you needed to do.

"But I have some exciting news to share with you exclusively." You smiled warmly before some soft music began to play in the background.

"I've always wanted to be ahead of a big company like dispatch so, your couple reveal is..." A drumroll sounded before photographs of you and Jisung began to play on all of the big screens, one of your most romantic songs playing alongside it as people screamed out in surprise.

"Now you get the first look before anyone," You laughed a little as Jisung ran out onto the stage, engulfing you in a huge hug.

FELIX:

"What's the cheesiest pickup line you've ever heard?" The interviewer asked as you let out a small laugh thinking back on the one that Felix had said to you,

"You’ve got a lot of beautiful curves, but your smile is absolutely my favourite." You repeated it with a huge laugh, your whole body heating up as you remembered him suddenly telling it to you as he got out of the shower one night.

"Who told you that one?!" She laughed wildly as you shook your head at her, your eyes welling up with tears from how hard you were laughing.

"My boyfriend-" The whole world seemed to stand still as you realised what you'd just said and you could have sworn you were sweating buckets.

"Boyfriend? Is this a first hand-exclusive?" She wiggled her brows at you and you threw a glance over your manager who shook her head before nodding at you since there was no going back now and the interview turned into a whole questionnaire about your relationship.

SEUNGMIN:

It had been a silly fight that you and Seungmin had before he went out on stage earlier that night and you regretted it ever since, you were just a little fed up with hiding all of the time and you were worried it was going to be this way forever or that he ashamed of you or something.

"There's something I need to tell you all," Seungmin announced, the boys all staring at him confused. It was the end of the show and they were all getting ready to leave the stage.

"For a while, I've been keeping a huge secret and it's time I let it off my chest." Staff behind the stage began to yell at one another asking what he was doing and you stared at him with widened eyes.

"Yn and I have been together for a long time and I refuse to hide it anymore. I don't want them to think I'm ashamed when I love them more than anything else." He smiled brightly as people in the crowd began to "awe", your whole body was shaking as you stared at Seungmin who was gesturing for you to go onto the stage. 

"Yn and I are in love...I love them and they love me." He spoke as you took his hand in yours and smiled, hiding in his chest a little as flashes of cameras filled the arena.

"You're Crazy Kim Seungmin." You whispered as he stared down at you,

"Crazy about you."

JEONGIN:

It had all been an accident, a happy accident but an accident nonetheless. The boys were all on stage talking about their breaks and what they'd gotten up to on their small break from idol work and Jeongin talked about how he spent time with family and people he cared about. Only Jisung blurted out that he'd also been spending most of his time with you going out to different restaurants all over the country. It was something that maybe could have been swept under the rug and passed off as two friends spending time together if it hadn't been for Jisung also blabbering out that the two of you had been together for almost a year.

"You're a walking-talking idiot," Jeongin told him as you groaned at them coming over to you after the show had ended. By now the news had spread like wildfire and you knew there was no getting out of this one and your managers were going to have a field day with it.

"At least it's out in the world, neither of you has to worry about a giant reveal," Jisung offered a weak smile and you laughed softly, hugging him from the side.

"You can fight with my manager about it," You joked before shaking your head and congratulating the boys on a great show.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3

[johnbrand]

Weaponizing Normality

With @wakeup01

“C’mon babygirl, you know what to do about this, right?”

John gulped, his ex-boyfriend cockily lying on their bed. His bed. They were exes now after all, considering John had caught the flamboyant twink cheating on him with the young hunky cashier from the liquor store. But it was more than that, because John had converted his ex-boyfriend after the incident in a fit of rage. One bullet and a mental breakdown later, he had vowed to never see Garret again. But here he was, or at least, what he had become.

“How are you…why are you…” John sputtered, trying his best not to check out his former lover. The twink’s slim figure had been eradicated along with the homosexuality. Now Garret embodied the classic toxic straight boy. Rippling muscles, tanned skin, perfect hair and face. Even a tattoo was now carved into where his arm met his shoulder; the most heterosexual of all ink locations.

“What, didn’t you miss me?” Garret purred, his voice deeper and more sensual than John remembered. “Left my clothes at some chick’s place before I got here, hope you don’t mind.”

John realized what Garret was referencing. Although shirtless, he was currently wearing a pair of John’s slacks, his massive pouch stretching the fabric. Garret had always been too petite for John’s clothes before, but now the opposite problem had occurred. John envisioned his pants screaming in agony with Garett’s muscular lower half stretching them to the limit.

“Not the only thing I stretched out today, if you know what I mean,” Garett winked, reading John’s thoughts. John could not believe he could still do that after all they had been through.

“Look,” John finally sputtered, a firm decision settling in his mind. “You need to go, now.”

Garret frowned, taking a beat. “Are you sure? I come bearing gifts.”

“‘Gifts’,” John repeated unconvinced.

“Well sure,” Garret affirmed. “To thank you for all you did, and to apologize.”

Although he did not show it, John was surprised by this comment. Had conversion not morphed Garett into a classic douchebag?

“You obviously had a reason for what you did,” Garret started. “I cheated on you, plain and simple. You were acting solely as a response to my actions.”

John could not believe how mature this conversation was.

“After I got converted, everything changed for me. First off, I realized how much pussy I’ve been missing out on. It’s great stuff, man.” John did not respond, so Garret continued. “Anyway, I wanted to double up the two and come here for one last hurrah, a ‘To new beginnings!’ sort of thing.”

John considered this, “What do you have in mind?”

A self-assured smirk fell over Garret’s masculinized face. He already knew John’s answer before he even asked the question. “A thick, sensual blowjob on this new alpha body.”

John had no words. His eyes shifted from Garret’s down to the enlarged pouch, and then back up to Garret’s, before going back to the pouch again. John continued this pattern, with each glance back at Garret’s man meat a little longer than the last. Before he realized it, the words had already left his mouth.

“Please…”

Garret tossed his hands behind his head and shifted his pelvis a bit, “Get to work then, fag.”

Overridden by a sudden wave of lust, John dove in. Like a rabid dog he ripped apart Garret's (his) own pants, tearing away at the tight briefs (which on John were supposed to be boxers) immediately after. But before John could lay his eyes on the superior cock the laid below, he felt the pressure of cold metal brace his skull.

The gun went off quickly, the bullet lodging itself directly into John’s head. Garret watched as his collapsed on top of him, John’s body lifeless on top of half of his. With a chuckle, he dove his hand into the back of John’s pants and shoved his two fingers right next to the crack. He felt it pulsating, vibrating as it carefully shut its well-maintained entrance. 

Garret then began to feel up the rest of John’s body, curious to see what else could be affected right away. He recognized the flab of his ex’s stomach begin to evaporate away, and took in the crackle-pops of John’s widening back. Garret could not help but investigate the armpits, relishing in the fact that they were growing hairier and sweatier by the second. Bringing his fingers up to his nose, he grinned childishly in disgusted glee at the sour smell that had latched on, growing funkier by the minute.

Garret could not believe weaponizing normality could be so wickedly fun. He glowed with mischievousness, his impish revenge tantalizing him. Garret knew that it would not be long until his vengeance would be complete. But until then, he had to get this dude off his dick.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you

I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them

Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.

Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.

... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.

Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.

Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.

Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?

Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.

Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.

Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.

He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.

Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.

(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)

Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.

She'd never seen him so delighted before.

Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.

Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.

Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~

[devils-dares]

Flufftober Day 2: Left, Other Left!

summary: the task force has a team building exercise today, and you've been teamed up with the one person who hates your guts.

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader (platonic teammates)

warnings: strong language, getting whacked with a foam pad

wordcount: 617

a/n: written for @flufftober prompt list! going to try to catch up and stay involved.

-----

It was supposed to be some kind of stupid trust training with the task force. Walk through an obstacle course blindfolded while a partner gives you directions. Wrong move and you’ll get hit with a heavy foam pad, like a sick whack-a-mole.

You were partnered with your lieutenant.

It’s not that you hated Ghost, he was just so… difficult to be around. He always wore the damn mask and only spoke when he needed to, and it didn’t help that your personality made you want everyone’s approval. Ghost doesn’t hand out approval.

So here you were, guiding the broody soldier through the damn maze, praying to every god that you didn’t get him whacked and bruised. You’d never live it down in the task force, and you’d probably sink to the depths of hell in Ghost’s approval list. 

“Seven paces, and then a right.” He walks forward with confidence, and you’re simultaneously relieved and anxious that he’s putting this much literal blind faith into your directions.

He walks with a sort of swagger, like he’s doing whatever he wants despite your directions. So far it’s going well, he’s only brushed a course wall every now and then, and only one shoulder checked wall at the very beginning when you were still trying to get a feel on how many of your strides were one of his.

“How long is the course, rook?” Rook. You weren’t even a fucking rookie, yet he insisted on calling you that. You scowled.

“As long as it needs to be. Ten paces, left.” He takes ten paces.

“You know what, lieutenant? You’re insufferable.” You blurt out.

“I am, am I?” He chuckles. “Tell me more, Rook.”

“Make a right. I’m not a rookie, first of all. Three paces, left.”

“And secondly?”

“Six paces, right. Everyone likes me except you. And I mean everyone except you and that stupid skull mask of yours.”

“You need everyone’s approval, sugar?”

“I don’t need yours. I’d just like to know why I don’t have it.” He chuckles and stays quiet. You groan, the fucking silent treatment, of course.

“Six paces, right.”

“Thanks, Rook.”

“Okay, seriously fuck you. What’s wrong with you? I’m not a goddamn rookie, and you’re definitely not stupid enough to keep calling me that without knowing what you’re doing, so you need to cut it the fuck out and actually give me respect.”

“Ah, there it is.” His voice is heavy, a smirk apparent in his words.

“What is there? What the fuck are you on about now?” He laughs, full-chested.

“Was waiting for you to snap. Now we can be friends.”

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking maniac. This was a test? For what, fucking fortitude?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles gruffly. “I’m not above reproach, was waiting for you to snap and figure that out.”

“You’re sick in the head. Literally fucking sick, you know that? You get off on newbies yelling at you?”

“Respect is necessary, fear isn’t.”

“You’re a lunatic!”

“Give me directions.”

“Ten paces, left.” He moves, and just as he turns left, you shout “No! Other left!” But it’s too late.

He gets smacked with the foam pad, landing hard on his ass. A beat or two of silence passes until his body shakes, and full blown laughter explodes from the usually stoic lieutenant. He lays on the ground, laughing his ass off as you bury your face in your hands and shame yourself. 

“That supposed to be your version of karma?” Ghost says. “It’s gonna bruise my pretty face.”

“Nobody except your mirror will shake and scream in horror, Riley.” You respond. He continues laughing. You crack a smile.

“Get up, Ghost, we got a maze to finish.”

[sunfyresrider]

♡My Dear, Don’t Ever Disappear | Neteyam S.

❦Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache and no clue where you are. It’s only after your cries for help your best friend appears. Except… it seems like he’s the reason for all of this.

❦Tags: Stalker!Neteyam - this man is actually crazy, muder🫢, porn w plot, dubcon/noncon, smutty af, kidnapping, pet names, biting, bondage, knifeplay, he loves you in a insane way. Word Count: 3k +

❦Author’s Note: NO PROOFREADING WE RAWDOG THIS! The voices got to me and I made this. Ooc Neteyam for mf sure but it’s just- ugh. My brain couldn’t stop thinking abt it<3

You woke up groggy, the first time you noticed was a severe ache in the back of your skull. What the hell happened? You opened your eyes to find you were not at home, nor in a hospital, you were in a cold concrete room. It had to be the old lab, a basement you hadn’t found yet. Well, that is unspeakably unsettling, you thought to yourself as your heart picked up its pace.

You winced as you tried to sit up, Your whole body was a dull throb, your arms stiff from their position. It took mere moments before you felt the cool touch of metal against your wrists, you tried to move away, but the sounds of chains clinking together gave away that they were keeping you on the floor. Panic slowly begun settling in the pits of your stomach, a looming sense of dread washing over you.

You were just going to work, walking out of base camp, and then nothing. Nothing at all. Trying to remember made your head pound, you didn't know what day it was, the fucking time, or if you were even in the same village. “Hello?”

Your voice echoed against the walls, the only response being the drip drop of water leaking through the walls, you were underground. That much you could tell. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed another presence, a figure standing at the door with their arms crossed.

“Boo.”

Your body jolted upwards, the chains pulling you back. You felt your blood go cold. They were tall, so tall you could hardly see all of them. You felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs, your mouth was dry and you could only stutter as he stepped forward. “No, no, no, no,” you mumbled to yourself, as he crouched down in front of you.

“Don’t fucking touch me! Somebody help! Help,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, the man didn't seem perturbed at all by your cries. “My Ewya, you’re loud,” he reached up, pulling the sloppily fashioned skull mask from his face. “Neteyam?!” You were baffled. Why was Neteyam here? This wasn’t some sick joke was it?

“Thank god you’re awake,” he sighed, his hand moving to push your hair out of your face. His fingers brushed against the gash on your forehead, causing you to wince. “I thought I hit your pretty little head too hard and put you in a coma.” His fingers trailed down the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but recoil. There was something different about him, he wasn't the same Neteyam that was so sweet to you.

“Neteyam what the fuck are you-” you were cut off by his voice, a crazed smile spreading across his face. “Surprise!” He yelled, throwing his hands up, he seemed ecstatic, and you had never felt more terrified. “I really wanted to do this differently, honestly, but it was so hard to get you alone.”

You could only stare, not wanting to say a word, the silence making your throat tighten. Neteyam looked down, his fingers tapping on his knees. You had never seen him like this before, his normal cheery and kind nature completely gone.“I-if Kyle finds out-”

Neteyam’s change in expression cut you off quickly, his eyes changing into something dark, his brow furrowing as his lip curled into a snarl. You swallowed thickly, not sure how to handle him, or the situation. “And what the fuck will a human named Kyle do to me? For Ewya’s sake I do not understand your obsession with this creature. He is weak, frail, short, pale skinned and so stupid.”

For just a moment you had a mere second to think and you were insulted on Kyle’s behalf. Yes, he wasn’t as tall as Neteyam or buff or particularly attractive but he was human. Neteyam huffed, his hand reaching up to pull your face towards him.

You were pulled back into reality as his fingers touched you, you were so pathetically helpless, chained to the ground, and at his mercy. His thumb rubbed along your cheek, and his eyes narrowed on yours. “It’s doesn’t matter now, yawne. I took care of him.”

Your blood ran cold, a sudden fear that he was speaking the truth, It made you want to vomit, a horrible pit forming in your stomach. But the way he said it, like he was proud of his actions, the look in his eyes as he stared down at you, it all made your heart drop. “You’re insane!”

“Only for you,” his smile reached both ears, a look that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, and your eyes started to water, your brain running a million miles a minute trying to come up with a solution, but nothing came. Neteyam leaned down, placing a kiss against your forehead.

It was… Oddly comforting, unnervingly soft. The way his lips felt against your skin was a stark contrast to his behavior, it was almost loving. “you’re so pretty when you cry, yawne,” his breath was hot on your skin, his voice soft, and it made your skin crawl.

“Fuck you, Neteyam.” You tried to turn away, but his grip tightened on your jaw, keeping you firmly in place, the chains digging into your wrists. You didn't want to look at him, and you certainly didn't want him looking at you. “You’ve read my mind, pretty.” You tried to squirm, and pull away, the chains biting into your skin and cutting into the delicate flesh. Your hands were numb from being locked in place, the muscles tensing and relaxing with the blood circulation.

“I really wish we could have done this in a nicer way… but you are so hardheaded. I was so nice, I did everything in the world to impress you... and not once did you notice me.” Neteyam unsheathed a blade you didn’t realize he was carrying, the metal glistening in the dim light. You felt tears well up in the corners of your eyes, the sight of it alone making your stomach flip, a knot forming deep within you.

The chains rattled as you squirmed, his grip tight on your chin. The metal slid across the delicate flesh of your jaw, it was cold to the touch and sent endless shivers down your spine. Neteyam traced his way down your neck, slowly running down your chest, stopping just before he reached your top. “I’ve dreamt of this for so long… of you, without these ugly human clothes, beneath me, whimpering and crying, of me, inside you... of you saying my name.”

A new feeling began creeping into your thoughts, it wasn't fear or panic, but something else entirely. His words, his voice, everything was too much, and it was beginning to make your head spin. Neteyam moved it slowly, slicing the fabric from the front of your chest, the knife easily cutting through the fabric of your blouse and bra. You didn't notice the cold air hitting the exposed skin, and all you could think of was his dagger as it trailed down your abdomen.

He let out a guttural growl as he stared down at you, his eyes transforming into something more animalistic. “You’re so perfect. I should have killed Kyle sooner…” Your core began to warm, a heat growing deep within your belly as his eyes roamed over your body, a new wave of shame and humiliation washing over you. This was turning you on, which was completely repulsive considering the situation.

Neteyam slid the knife along the inner part of your thigh, the sharp edge scraping against the supple skin, making you gasp. He took his time cutting the fabric, his movements precise, and careful, his gaze focused on the task at hand. Neteyam let out a sort of chuckle, pausing his movements as he gazed up at you, a curious look in his eye. “You like this don’t you?”

The next words came out as a stuttered, incoherent mess of denial. “N-no- you’re c-crazy! I hate you.” His blade sliced the thin string of fabric between your legs, cutting the material with ease. “Don’t lie to me, pet. I can smell you.” You bit your lip, not daring to make eye contact. The blade pressed against the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your heat, and you felt your legs twitch.

You didn't understand this, the way the knife made your pulse race, the way his fingers danced across your skin made you burn. His hand moved slowly, the blade pressed against your skin, the metal cool against your warmth. You felt the knife drag, and you bit down harder on your lip, trying not to show any sort of reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Neteyam moved the knife upward, dragging the metal against your gaped lips, the smoothness of the blade making your core tighten. Your mind was swimming, unable to concentrate, the blade was pressing harder, the sharp point breaking the delicate skin. A drop of blood seeped through, and Neteyam's eyes seemed to glow, his mouth hung open slightly.

Neteyam dropped the blade, the clatter echoing through the small room, his lips reaching out to touch the wound, a small red spot where the knife had been pressed. If there was any blood, it was washed away as his tongue lashed out, cleaning the area with long, slow movements.

Your mouth opened slightly, and a small whine escaped. Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his hand snaking up your body to grasp at your throat. You couldn't help but moan softly, as his grip tightened around your windpipe, constricting your airways.

“You’re an ass,” you hissed, his hand loosening. You had a feeling the knife had been a trick, the way he had played it up and teased, the way he had made you feel. It wasn't a true threat, and he knew it. “Oh, you don’t want to play nice anymore? He pulled the chains that binged your wrists to the wall, yanking you out of position with a yelp. Neteyam pulled you so your face was mere inches from his, “ I see you, pet. I can be meaner, hm?"

You realized in this moment how his strength truly outmatched yours, his arms easily forcing you onto the ground. You tried to pull away, the cold floor biting at the bare skin of your back. Neteyam leaned down, forcing his mouth onto yours,his tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. You couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue.

His hands groped at the bare skin of your hips, his touch sending waves of heat throughout your body. He kissed you with an urgency, like he was starving for it, his teeth tugging on your lip. The sensation made a low groan slip past your lips, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. Neteyam’s tongue slipped out of your mouth, moving down your neck, his sharp teeth nibbling at your skin.

You felt your body begin to react, your blood pulsing, your chest heaving with each labored breath. It was disgusting, and humiliating. You were completely under his control, and you could do nothing about it. You could only watch as his hands wandered, as he moved his tongue down the front of your chest, the feeling of his dangling braids tickling your flesh. And for some reason, not even ewya could explain, you were enjoying it.

His lips wrapped around one of your breasts, his hot tongue gliding over the flesh. You threw your head back, moaning softly, his tongue flicking over the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. Neteyam let out a deep groan, his mouth closing over it. You were so absorbed in what his tongue was doing to you, you failed to notice his hand slipping between your thighs.

You let out a strangled moan, as his long fingers brushed against your dripping folds. Your eyes snapped open, the sensation was so foreign. He slid a finger inside, pumping it slowly, his thumb circling around the sensitive bud. It felt incredible, and you hated that, the pleasure washing over you.

You could hear Neteyam let out a chuckle, the sound vibrating through his lips. "Look how wet you are, pet." He began forcing in another finger, stretching you out and filling you with a burning heat. You felt your eyes roll back, letting out a soft mewl, the sound of him thrusting into you echoed through the room.

"M-more, please," you begged, his fingers moving faster, the feeling overwhelming, making you squirm. "Please, more," you panted, your pussy beginning to clench around his fingers. “Beg louder.” Neteyam's hand gripped tighter around your neck, his fingers forcing themselves deeper, stretching you.

You could feel a coil building up inside, the sensation was too much, and you were so close. “Splease, Sso good,” you slurred. Neteyam proded at the spongy spot inside you, making the coil tighten further, your walls starting to quiver around him. “P-please! Teyam please!”

Neteyam pulled his fingers out suddenly, your orgasm being cut off immediately. You let out a loud whine, a pitiful plea to keep going, his fingers leaving a trail of your own slick as they moved up. Then, he slapped you clean across the face.The sound echoed through the room, and you felt your whole body tense up. The force of the impact was surprising, and it was quickly followed by a painful stinging.

"You thought I was going to let you cum so easily? After the attitude you’ve had all night? No way, brat, I’m going to ruin you first." Neteyam was so calm, his voice so collected, it was almost unnerving. You were stunned, obscenely horny, and mildly terrified of the monster in front of you.

He sat back, admiring his handiwork. You were spread out, bound, and completely nude. Your eyes met his, and a dark laugh bubbled up in his throat. "you should see yourself," he cooed. “You look so pretty all disheveled for me.”

Neteyam leaned forward, his long, deft fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing you up, the chains chafing the delicate skin. His mouth connected with yours, the kiss more heated than the others, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip. You could feel his excitement through his loincloth, the heat radiating off of him, his length straining against the fabric.

The sudden shift in emotions made you dizzy, his touch becoming rough, and violent. Then twisting into slow and sensual, the way his tongue gilded against yours, the way his lips moved expertly against yours, the way his hands moved along your body. "I'm going to mark the fuck out of you so no man ever comes near you again.”

Neteyam grasped at your hips, proving his superior strength by flipping you over with ease. One of his large hands wrapped into your hair, the other pulling your ass up so you could feel him. He was undeniably huge, so thick, and in no way was he going to fit inside you. The sensation alone made you whimper, and it only got worse as he rubbed himself against you.

The sound of him unfastening his cloth, the jingling of his jewelry was enough to make your core tighten. His cock slipped between your folds, the head rubbing against your clit. Neteyam let out a low growl, the feeling of him making you shudder, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

Neteyam forced himself inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you scream out, and tears well up in the corners of your eyes. He was impossibly big, filling you entirely, stretching you. You let out a series of broken moans, as he slid out only to thrust back inside. Neteyam's free hand slid down your spine, his fingers gently caressing your back, before he slapped your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Keep screaming my name just like that.” Neteyam's voice was strained, the words coming out like a hiss. His grip tightened on the base of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while his hips pounded against you. The sounds of his body hitting yours echoed through the room, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

He wasn't going easy, "F-fuck me!” you cried out, as his cock grazed your g-spot. Neteyam dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his teeth leaving an imprint, his hands holding you down, his body flush against you.

The knot began to build once more, and Neteyam picked up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon. You moaned and whimpered, unable to stop the obscene noises that fell from your lips. His heavy panting sent chills down your spine.

Neteyam let out a deep, animalistic growl, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips, his teeth biting into your shoulder. "You feel so good around me, baby.” His cock throbbed inside you, his tip pounded at your cervix. You felt your pussy clamp around him, the feeling making Neteyam's hips jerk, and you let out a loud, pleasured wail.

You were so close, and the knot in your belly was tightening. “Please can I cum?!” You yelled out. Neteyam pulled himself from the warmth of your body, and you could hear his breathing turn ragged. “No no no, I have to see you.”

You didn't have to wait long, Neteyam flipped you onto your back, and his lips met yours. You felt his cock press against your folds, the head of him pushing past the entrance. His lips attached themselves to the side of your neck, his hands sliding up your chest to wrap around your throat.

Neteyam's hips met yours, his cock pounding inside you, “keep begging, yawne.” His long fingers moved to circle your clit, his thumb rolling the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll back. “Please, Neteyam,” you cried, “sgood, please can I cum!”

"Are you going to be a good little girl from now on?" Neteyam hissed, his fingers moving faster. You nodded, as you let out a low cry, "y-yes! P please, I’ll be good! You were on the verge of tears, your mind clouded. Neteyam let out a guttural groan, his pace picking up but his movements getting progressively sloppy.

Your legs began to shake, the knot was beginning to unravel. Neteyam's cock throbbed inside you, and you knew he was getting close too. "i-im gonna-" His fingers curled around your throat, stopping your sentence. “Cum on this dick like a good pet.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body started to convulse, your muscles tensing, and then unraveling. Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to thrash, and scream. You felt your pussy clench tightly around his length, the euphoria making your mind hazy. Neteyam's body trembled, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. His seed filled you entirely, warming your belly, and dripping out onto your thighs as he pulled out slowly.

You were spent, too weak to move and too dazed to think straight. Time passed fast, the loss of his body heat lost in your head. You felt him shift beside you, his head dangling over yours as he peppered kisses onto your face. “You’re so pretty all fucked out…” he cooed, his hand gently rubbing your head.

You murmured something in reply, not fully hearing what he was saying. “I’m so happy you’re here with me, yawne.”Neteyam spoke, his voice soft. You heard his voice echo through the room, the words becoming jumbled as sleep overtook you. He continued petting your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. This was nice, harder than he expected, but it was nice.

“And you’re going to be here with me forever…”

My beloveds - @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @criticallybella

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Spooky Scary Skeleton!

Yandere! Jack Skellington x Gn! Reader

warnings: yandere themes, abduction, not accurate depictions of characters

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

“Oh my, Oh my! What do we have here? An earthling, here, in the land of shadows?” the fleeting sound of a man taunted, gravelly rumbling voice tinged with amusement as it rung deeply in your sensitive eardrums.

The night was one dangerous itself; gnarly shadowy figures dancing all around, as the breeze rustled the last leaves of autumn, creating a graveyards all across the forest grounds for them to rot on. Cries echoed—the laughter of foreign tongues cursing, while the wind was all time furious, his scream the most piercing as it traveled through the knobby branches intertwined into eachother.

“Who—who is there? Show yourself!” you demanded, voice swallowed by the cool of the night, silence quickly falling over you, hanging like a thick could over your head, as you frantically whipped your head around, squeezing the handle of your broken flashlight.

“If you don't—I will have you know that I own a weapon, and I am not afraid to use it!” you threatened whoever was toying with your sanity so deep in the woods, only the silver of the moon guided you through the maze of oddly shaped trees; crowns tilted downwards as if they themselves felt uneasy in the cold of the night.

“He, I would love to see you try, mortal.” the voice continued to your chip sanity away, his tone so rough and hoarse, as if the only air he breathed was smoke and he had forgotten he possessed a throat to growl through.

“I am serious, you sick fucking weirdo!—” you snarled, right before you felt twig snap beneath your shoe and the sudden jolt caused your foot to catch onto one of the many roots breaking through the earth’s crust like spidery legs. Your high-pitched terror rattled through the thicket, twisting yourself to the side, while squeezing your eyes shut as you prayed to not fall face-first into the dirt.

Yet you never felt the embrace of the lumpy ground, because something or rather someone was swifter than any human ought to be—with hands too lithe that they were poking the subtle flesh of your arms.

“Tsk, earthling, now look at you. So helpless, so mortal, so endearing. You're like a little fawn! Are you searching for the thrill of Halloween? Why else would a weak thing like you ever enter my lands.” the stranger rasped, purring the words, while he pressed you to himself—to a you who ripped open your eyes to stare at not a man, but a mask, or at least what you assumed to be one.

“Let go off me, you crazy fucker! I have got a life to live!—” you protested assuming the creature you were looking at, was some creep living out his fantasy of murdering on Halloween night as a cartoon character. However no matter how much you writhed, kicked and scratched his grip didn't falter, it didn't even ease.

The skull head tilted to the side, features twisting and moving around—morphing so smoothly as if this wasn't an animated mask some nerd had designed. You were sure of it, his towering height, the glow in his eyes and the odd skeleton hands, with his fingers curling around you like vines, were all just part of a costume.

Until you tried to kick him between his thighs and realized one thing; there wasn't anything soft down there—in fact there wasn't anything down there except bones to begin with.

You screamed and upon noticing Jack couldn't help but laugh boisterously. “Oh human! How fascinating creatures you are! What were you trying to do? Stick a hand through my hips? Is that a little hobby of yours? Such odd specimen.” he cooed, pinching your cheek before swiftly picking you up by the scruff and throwing you over his shoulder—and only then did you notice the little creatures all around you, hiding in the shadows, encircling you both, fascinated by the sight of you.

You finally realised—that you were no longer in the human world, that this guy wasn't just another costume but a real living, perhaps not breathing, skeleton—and the realisation choked you with fear, ensnaring your heart in a gilded cage of fear.

“Don't worry, I will take good care of you, afterall I am Jack Skellington! I look over the lands here—all these monsters are under my protection. And since you’re a mortal, a grave danger to all of us, you will have to stay here for quite some time, all alone with me.” he spoke overly energetic—until his voice faded out with his last words, something sinister tinging his mischievous tune.

Well he had always found humans just so fascinating, and after catching sight of you, a little fawn with bright eyes, a mundane life and odd customs, on another one of his missions of mischief in the human world, he had made sure that you would find your way into his, and therefore into his arms.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were roommates part 2

A/N: well well well... If it isn't the latest manic episode from my brain. Anyways enjoy...

TW: none..? Angst, cuz bwahahah I'm mean.

here's part one

____

You sat hugging tightly your fluffy pillow against your chest. The living room was plunged into darkness, the tv being the only thing shining through the room. It was a little after midnight, and you were completely alone. Ghost had warned you that he'd be home late so you wouldn't make dinner for him. You still did though.

First you had wanted to go sleep or maybe play a bit on your consoles but you were quickly bored. You weren't exactly waiting for him… no. You just… wanted to make sure he had eaten. Yes. That was it. 

So here you were. Sitting on the couch, in front of a horror movie. Not the best idea, but nothing was interesting enough at this hour. 

You had mixed feelings about horror movies. But one thing was for sure. Right now, you hated them. Your morbid curiosity made you unable to change channels though. 

Your eyes were glued to the screen. You watched as the woman was hiding. You felt your skin crawl at the idea. Perhaps was it even exciting? No. You brushed that thought away. The silence from the movie and the house was almost suffocating. Time seemed to stretch, the seconds feeling like minutes. 

Something in the corner of your eyes caught your attention. Just as the movie's music suddenly rang to break the suspense you glance to your left, the tall silhouette standing next to the couch clearly visible.

The scream escaping your lips was expected. The pillow thrown? Maybe not so much. 

The silhouette launched itself on top of you, a strong body keeping you from escaping as a gloved hand draped over your mouth, keeping you from screaming. 

"Sparrow!" 

You stopped squirming at the voice. Your racing heart and quickened breath was the only thing heard. The tv remote had fallen and muted the film when you had started fighting the intruder. But there was no intruder. 

"It's me. Breathe." He said in a soothing voice. 

Tears burned your eyes. As he lifted his hand from your mouth, a whine escaped your lips. 

"Ghost…" you whispered.

"Yes.. I'm sorry. I.. I didn't mean to scare you." He tried, his voice still low. 

The situation was now clearer. His body trapped yours as you both laid on the couch. Your hands were fisted in his hoodie, hanging on for dear life. He was wearing a simple balaclava with a skull print, he sometimes wore it around the house. His eyes had a mixture of concern and determination.

"Sparrow." He called, trying to keep your focus on him. 

"I would never hurt you." His voice sounded calm. Normal. Thinking that you could hear a little fear in it was just your imagination. What could he be scared of? That you wouldn't believe him? That you'd actually be scared of… no. 

"I know" you threw back at him. For some reason, even though it had only been a little over a month since you shared the appartement, you were absolutely sure without a single doubt that he wouldn't hurt you. 

He softly sat back, making you let go of his hoodie. He pulled you up with him, making you sit next to him. 

You took a deep breath. 

"Are you ok?" He asked. 

"Yeah… I hate horror movies." 

"Why are you watching one then?" 

"Because I'm obviously an idiot who loves to wake up the whole base by screaming bloody murder at 1 am." 

He chuckled. 

He chuckled. He rarely did. Had you even heard him chuckle before? 

He eyed you. 

"I didn't know what time you'd be home. You surprised me." You said matter of factly.

"Yes. I think the whole base figured that out." He teased. 

You rolled your eyes at him. You glanced back to notice him staring at you. 

"What..?" 

No answer.

"Ghost? You really do have a staring problem, you know you-"

His gloved hand rose to your face, his thumb softly brushing a tear that had rolled down your cheek. You didn't even feel it fall. You blinked. He didn't let anything show but somehow, just a little bit, you could feel he felt guilty.

"I'm a crybaby… sorry" you joked. Trying to lighten the mood. 

"Next time I'll call the base, I'll know when to expect you" you laughed. 

He still didn't react. He simply glanced down at the coffee table. He grabbed something from it. 

"Unlock it." He ordered. God was he bossy sometimes.

You looked down at your phone in his hand. You frowned but did as he asked. You watched him type something before handing it back to you. You looked at the screen, reading the contact infos on it. 

Lieutenant Ghost Riley. 

Riley… your heart jumped in your chest. Riley. He was giving you his last name. 

"Call me next time. Or text me. If I don't text you." he said. 

You looked up at him, smiling softly. 

"Yes lieutenant." 

He cleared his throat.

"By the way. A pillow is not a good weapon. Next time throw the popcorn bowl at least." 

Your cheeks turned to a light shade of red, remembering your reflex as you were scared. 

"Sorry.." 

__

"Please ! I'm really bored!" You whined following the masked man. He sighed. 

"Sparrow. Stop." He warned. 

You groaned exaggeratedly. It had been a week after he made you scream at the top of your lungs at 1 am. You had received a little visit from two soldiers, no less than 20 minutes later, ready to berate you for waking up the apartment complex. Fortunately for you, they quickly retracted once the lieutenant had shown up behind you, admitting it was his fault. They both apologized, looking shocked, immediately recognizing him by his mask. Funny. Wonder what they were thinking, I mean, he did make you scream. 

"I promise, it'll be great. I'll show you how to do it… we can have some fun!" You tried, batting your lashes at him.

He glanced at you. His eyes showed annoyance yet no anger. 

"If I accept, are you going to stop whining?" He asked. 

You nodded frantically. 

You had noticed his slight behavior change since the movie night. He was a little more gentle. A little more… clingy? He spent a bit more time around you, even if no words were exchanged. Sometimes he'd even do push-ups in the living room while you read a book.

He groaned. You smiled widely. You won! He accepted it! No… you were not using this new change of behavior to befriend him at all. Who would think that?

You jumped on the couch, patting the space next to you. He walked around it and sat next to you. Grabbing the vibrating object on the coffee table he gazed at you darkly. 

"You're gonna owe me for this." 

You bit your lip.  Turning to the tv you started to explain the controls of the game. 

Yes. He accepted. He was playing Mario kart with you. You kept jumping in place. 

After a good 40 minutes, ghost leaned forward. You had lost your gigglyness. You both were fighting for first place. You didn't even notice how serious ghost had gotten about this game. It didn't even hit you that he was actually enjoying himself. 

"Fuckin hell…" he cursed. 

You had your bottom lip into a torturing bite. It had turned a deep reddish color from all the times your adrenaline caused you to bite it.  You were kneeling on the couch next to him, too excited to even sit still. 

Finally reaching the finish line you jumped happily. Ghost groaned, letting himself fall back into the couch. You leaned forward to him on all fours. He stared at your frame, eyes resting on your lips. 

"I win lieutenant! You're gonna have to be better than that…" you teased a smirk on said lips. 

Silence fell for a second. You saw the gaze he had on your lips. Did you hurt yourself? You let your tongue pass on it, not tasting any blood on it. The move made him frown. 

"Ghost..?" You asked, unsure if he was mad. 

He glanced up. His gaze had darkened and it sent a delicious shiver down your spine. But as quickly as you noticed it, it was gone. Perhaps you had imagined it.

"Revenge?" He asked. 

You smiled. Shaking the thought off your mind.

"You bet!"

___

You stared at the screen in front of you. You wanted to finish the stupid report on your latest task. Unfortunately your mind kept running over the latest events. 

Things had remained pretty friendly with Ghost. The teasing, the gaming and sharing food. But for the past week something had changed. 

You clung to the blanket covering your shoulders as you sat on the couch. The file opened on your lap. The cold had settled slowly, December finally rolling in. You wondered if it would snow this year. 

Ghost had been distant. Cold. You tried not to take it personally because he probably had his own problems. But he hadn't eaten dinner with you for the past two days. He had brought breakfast and left for base without even sitting next to you. 

You were worried… deep down, you were hurt. You missed the small bits of attention, his presence… you missed him. You sighed. Trying to focus back on the report. 

A soft knock on the door made you frown, looking up. You sat there for a few seconds before another knock was heard. Dropping the file on the coffee table, you walked up to the door, unlocking it and opening it. 

A man stood there, clearly a soldier from the base. His beard and funny hat made you smile. 

"Oh… hi, I think I got the wrong apartment…" he said with the most adorable smile you saw on a man.

"Hi, who are you looking for? Maybe I can help." You answered. 

"Hmm, I'm looking for Lieutenant Riley." 

You nodded. 

"You are in the right place actually. But he's not home at the moment." 

The man stared at you for a moment. 

"You… you are the roommate?" 

You chuckled. 

"You make it sound like I'm the Boogeyman… yes, I am the roommate." You smiled. 

He chuckled. 

"Well. It's a surprise and a pleasure to meet you. I'm captain John price" He presented his hand to you. 

You extended yours to shake it. 

"I'm… hum… sparrow…" you answered awkwardly with a sorry look. 

He nodded, understanding the situation. 

"Would you like to come in? He should be home soon." You invited. 

"Oh, thank you, unfortunately I have somewhere else to be. He asked me to drop this file." 

You looked down at the file, a big red 'confidential' stamped on it. 

"Could you give it to him when he gets home? " 

"Sure! No problem." You smiled, grabbing the file he was giving you. 

"But… I have to ask. Don't open it. I trust that you'll do what's best. " He eyed you maliciously, without any hint of threat or negativity. 

"Yes sir." You smiled. 

He nodded one last time before bidding his goodbye. 

Stepping back inside, you closed the door behind you. You slightly jumped as your phone rang. You cursed internally, this day was just stretching itself to no end. 

Half an hour later you were dressed and ready to go to the base. There was an immediate need for your presence because of a potential security breach. You had dressed quickly, grabbing laptop, tablets and other electronics that might help you. Running around the living room, desperately trying to hurry up without forgetting anything. Throwing your coat on the counter, the sound of paper falling to the ground made you halt. 

"God I hate this fucking report!" 

Spinning around and dropping to the floor you started grabbing each sheet of paper, desperately trying to make them slip back into the file. 

Suddenly you froze. The big red confidential staring at you. Oh no… no no no… 

It wasn't your file. It wasn't your damn report. 

"Fuck…" 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" 

You jumped, eyes flashing with shock as you noticed ghost standing at the entrance of the hallway. 

"I-its not what you think! I made it fall! I swear I-"

"Shut up!" 

You froze. The sting of the anger in his voice hurt a lot more than you expected. 

He rushed to the ground next to you, grabbing every piece of paper, snatching the ones in your hand before standing up. 

"Wait ! Please I-" you tried. 

"I told you to shut up." He barked. 

"Just let me explain!" You insisted.

"Explain what?!"

"I wouldn't do that to you ghost! We're …" you looked up at him from the ground, pleading eyes. 

"What? Friends? You think we're friends?" 

You bit your lip. 

"We're not. Fucking wake up. And stay away from my shit." He snapped. 

You sat there in shock as he walked past you. The sound of his bedroom slamming marking the start of the waterfalls. The silent tears burnt your cheeks. 

Your phone rang once again, reminding you of your little emergency. You stood up in a hurry, grabbing all your things, slamming the front door on your way out. 

You glanced at your watch. 2 am. You had been programming and coding for the past 6 hours, with very little breaks. You were exhausted. But the security breach had been fully secured and you had found a few clues on what or who was behind it. 

It was time to head back home and let the rest of the team work on it. 

Somehow you were anxious. You hoped he was asleep. That you could get in without facing him. You wanted to apologize again. You were mixed between fury and pain. 

If you were honest you had been getting attached to him… you were enjoying spending time with him… how could you possibly think that he… would feel the same. 

You bit your lip once more, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

Turning the key in the lock you stepped inside the quiet house. Not a sound or a light. You sighed. Walking in the living room, flipping the switch, you looked around the now bright room. Everything was as you left it. Had he dinned? 

You stepped in further into the room, dropping your coat on the couch. You let the silence drown you. Your eyes felt heavy. 

You walked toward the fridge to grab a glass of water, noticing the file on the counter. 

No red letters on top, and no report. It was a different file. This time you purposely opened it. 

"Mission informations… south.. america?" 

You blinked. He was gone. He went on a mission. He had left. Without a word. Or a text. 

The first tears felt bitter. Rage first. And then sadness. He didn't care… he never did… 

Worry settled in now… what if he never came back? No. No! 

You sat on the stool, now fully crying. He was gone. Eyes glancing at the little wrapped gift next to your bag.

"Riley you stupid idiot…" 

___

Tags: 

@lemontails-blog @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 2: Watch Me✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the lovely @alltheirdamn for beta reading and screaming about them with me 🥰

Summary: While all the other girls gush over Coach Miller, Madison can’t stand him. And when her turn comes on the vault, she gets a little carried away.

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: 18+ only

Tags: Lots of banter, arguing to flirting, dual POV

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next day is barely tolerable as I stand with my arms crossed firmly against my chest, my right hip cocked out to the side. I let the cool breeze from the vents take the bitter sting away that rushes like a raging waterfall through my sore joints. 

   The slick purple leotard clings to my tanned, burning skin, and my tight blonde ponytail feels like it’s creating an incurable migraine at the back of my skull. I roll my eyes with every insufferable breath Joel breathes, not even caring if he sees how his droning voice affects my sour mood.

   He’s not my coach. He will never be my coach.

   “Listen up, girls,” Joel yells across the room, standing in the middle of the blue mat with a clipboard in one hand and a black ink pen in the other. “I’m gonna have each of you go through your uneven bar and vault routines. We have a lot of cover to ground before regionals, and it’s not that far off.”

   Unbelievable. If he really knew me, he’d know those were my two strongest routines. It’s my floor and balance beam routine that’ve been kicking my ass lately, and I just can’t stick my landings like I need to to qualify for nationals. And the double back salto? Well, that’s another beast entirely that I can’t quite grasp. Coach Carr would know that, but she apparently didn’t include Joel in that conversation. 

   Go fucking figure.

   How the fuck am I supposed to make it without her by my side? 

   Katelyn raises her hand and practically whips it around with no control. 

   Eager much? 

   “Coach Miller, can I go first? I’d love your help with my dismount.” She bats her long lashes, her icy blue eyes practically shining like stars in the night sky, and it makes me want to vomit. 

   “Sure thing, Katelyn. Jus’ head on over to the vault. I’ll be right there,” he assures her, tucking his plastic clipboard under his arm.

   When he turns to head to the back of the room where the long runway and vault lay, I watch the way his broad shoulders flex against the black t-shirt, and I feel sick when he pushes his long fingers through his tousled curls. It irks me that he’s allowed to look that good. Even more so, flames radiate through my chest just thinking that this is his team now. 

   Nuh-uh. I won’t allow it. This isn’t his team. And I’ll make damn sure of it. 

   Coach Carr may have asked me to be nice, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her. 

   Katelyn shines her perfect smile and poses, saluting that she’s about to begin her routine. Joel nods from the corner of the room, standing a few feet from the vault, eyes locked while he waits and watches with bated breath. She wastes no time and takes off, feet striking the mat and running like her life depends on it. 

   I watch the way Joel carefully assesses her movements, ready to move at a moment’s notice if she falls. And I don’t know why, but it annoys the hell out of me. Probably because Katelyn is used to getting what she wants, and she wants Joel. She can have him for all I care. I don’t even want him here. 

   Katelyn completes her handspring double front and nearly eats the blue mat beneath her. Joel quickly steps in and catches her before her body crashes down, and I know she did it on purpose. She’s never messed up that move before. She’s putting on a fake show, and Joel’s her shiny new doll to mess around with. 

   “Whoa, slow it down there. You overturned your twist. Try to focus on your body mechanics next time. You’ll get it,” he encourages with a light pat to her shoulder.

   “Thanks for catching me, Coach. I’ll try again.” She turns away sweetly, walking all the way back to the end of the seafoam floor, swaying her curvy hips and flashing the sparkly sequins on her peach leotard. 

   “Oops, did I get a little too excited with that flip? Maybe I should do it again just so he’ll catch me.” She flips her highlighted hair and pushes past me, smacking straight into the side of my shoulder with enough force that it makes my stance unsteady.

   Narrowing my eyes, I scowl at her and feel hot lava rising in every joint of my boiling body. I keep my mouth shut tight but only because she’s trying to get a rise out of me. And there’s no fucking way I’m getting heated over a bitch trying to steal a man I couldn’t be less interested in. She can have him. I just wish she'd leave me the hell alone. 

   Before I make any rash decisions and decide to turn and smack her straight across her lip gloss coated mouth, Cassie pulls me back to reality and gives me a concerned look. “Don’t mind her. You know she’s only jealous because Coach Miller took notice of you yesterday.” 

   I sigh and try to relax, uncrossing my arms and easing my mind of any unnecessary distractions. I’m here to practice, not to be involved in some petty drama I want no part in. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wish she’d stop, you know?”

   “I know what you mean, but a bitch is a bitch no matter what. So just focus on the task at hand. You’re better than her at everything; that’s never going to change. Just do you, boo,” she smiles, giving me a friendly bump against the hip while her emerald eyes flash over mine.

   “Thanks for doing this with me, Cas. I couldn’t do it alone,” I smile gently, squeezing her hand in mine as I silently thank her again for being an anchor in the cesspool of snakes. 

   “Always got your back, babe,” she finishes.

   The rest of the squad finishes their turns and return to the navy blue colored spring floor, stretching and watching who’s left to do their routines. Suddenly, I realize I’m the last of the girls, and it’s now my turn to go. Picking my head up and gazing all the way down to the end of the mat lights my nerves on fire. Joel is staring at me, large hands on his hips, chocolate-covered eyes scorching mine even from feet away. It feels like a giant spotlight is shining down on me, signaling to act, but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed in time, and I want to run far far away from those deep brown eyes. 

   “C’mon now, don’t be shy. Show me what you got.” His deep voice echoes through the large room, booming through my eardrums like a loud bass, and I want to rip the noise from my rushing ears. His curled smirk and playful eyes make my skin boil and my toes tingle like I’m standing on sharp wires. I puff out a cloud of invisible smoke and clench my hands into tight fists. 

   He thinks I’m shy? That’s cute. I’m not the least bit shy. No. I’m a fierce tiger, and I’ll rip my sharp claws straight through that ridiculous smirk. 

   He gives me a teasing smile, and that does it. I snap. Sprinting as fast as I can down the solid floor, I throw all my raging emotions into my swift movements, letting my stinging feet barely hit the mat, blurring the whispering girls on the mat, only focusing on the vault in front of me.

   Throwing my whole body into the roundoff back handspring, my feet catch the springboard for just a second and then I’m flipping defiantly over the smooth edges of the vault table. I chose the Amanar twist, the harder of my moves, wanting to show Joel just who the best is around here. 

   The air whips across my face, my body humming with every second I’m in the air, completing two-and-a-half twists as if this is as easy as walking a straight line on the balance beam. I stick the landing perfectly and salute, my arms stiff and graceful like I just wowed the judges. My hazel eyes slightly narrow when I see his doe eyes widen just a smidge, his mouth parted and a sickening smile curled up across his plush mouth like he’s in awe. I should smile back, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

   A low whistle leaves his lips and he applauds slowly. “Well, I’ll be damned. Nearly flawless, Shining Star.” I hear the snickering and whispers come from behind, but I block them out. The only thing I’m focused on is making Joel’s life a living hell.

   I drop my stiff stance and cross my arms over my shimmery leotard. “I can go harder than that,” I challenge. 

   Joel’s eyebrows raise in attention, and his tongue slowly slides over his bottom lip like he’s closely assessing my movements. “Oh? You think you can land a triple twist?” The way his warm eyes stare into mine makes a hot fire light in my chest, and that fire is pure rage.

   “I know I can.” I pop my hip out and slit my eyes into thin slots, letting him know I’m not playing games. But he wants to play. Oh, yes. He’s intrigued now. A devilish smirk widens over his mouth and his darkening eyes look like they could eat me alive. 

   Look what you fucking did.

   “Yes,” I snarl out. 

   “That’s a pretty risky move there, sweetheart. You sure you can handle it?” He’s toying with me, edging me on to get under my skin, but it’s too late. He’s already there, prodding at my stings like a damn nuisance.  

   “Don’t call me sweetheart,” I spit with venom shooting across the room, hoping it’ll silence Joel’s taunting words. 

   So, he’s learned I like to play games. Well, I can play them better. 

   “You never heard of Southern hospitality, darlin’?” He accentuates the word darlin’, and the widest smirk I’ve ever seen in my life rests on his tanned face. One hand slowly rakes down his patchy scruff, and his eyes sharpen into mine. It makes me nearly stomp my heel into the gym mat to show how extremely irritating and impossible he’s being.

   Sweetheart? Darlin’? Just what the hell is he trying to prove? That he’s charming? He wishes. 

   “Just stop with the Texas nicknames. I get it. You think you’re slick, but you’re not. And for your information, I can handle anything,” I snap, folding my arms back over my chest to show how much he’s driving my patience. 

   “Alright then. Show me,” he demands, flexing his thick arms tighter against the black material of his shirt, his eyes lit with playful fire. “Let me see you land a triple, and maybe I won’t make you repeat it a third time.”

   I flare my nostrils and storm off, mouthing curse words under my breath like that’ll do any good. I forget that my teammates are gawking and staring at me like I just screamed blasphemy inside a holy temple. I ignore the bite of their stares and carry on. It’s just me and Joel right now for all I can see, and I need to teach him just who he’s dealing with.

   My body hums with electricity, lightning guiding my every movement. Maybe I overestimated by trying to outsmart him, but there’s no backing out now. I’ve made my bed; now I have to sleep in it. 

   Joel’s wide smile flashes under the harsh lights, and his deep brown eyes that antagonize me have me ready to blow steam out of my ears. I decide right then that I hate him and his stupid tousled curls. 

   Why did Coach Carr leave me with him?

   Putting my body into full drive mode, I crash like thunder down the mat, running as if I’m getting chased by a stampede of wildebeests. My body flips through the air, the back handspring pushing my muscles into overdrive, and then I jump. Hard. 

   I hold my breath like I’m underwater, body limbs curling and twisting in the air, and I focus on those three simple rotations I need. I start the count and then my vision blurs, closing my eyes so I can feel the intricate movements cycle through me. Still holding my breath, I count and pray that it’s enough.

   One, two, three. My feet land shakily on the slippery mat, my head reeling at the intense motions, but I land it, fortunately.

   Holy shit. I did it!

   His jaw drops open, and I hear him mutter a curse under his breath, clearly impressed that I was telling the truth. 

   I flash him a generous smile and end it with a slight scowl. “Look at that, Coach,” I stammer, imitating his Texas drawl from earlier. “I landed a triple.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and nods his head in disbelief. “So you did, Shining Star. So you did…” His eyes roam over my body, giving me a quick once over and again, he smiles. 

   “Told you I could,” I huff.

   I stand there glaring, challenging him to a duel I just might lose, but I hold my ground steadily.

    As I start to turn away, he stops me with his deep voice that tears through my unsettled mind. “Next time, don’t hold back the first time.”

   My eyes slit like snake eyes, and my head whips back around to him. “I wasn’t holding back.”

   “‘Course you weren’t, sweetheart. Keep bringing that heat to the floor,” he smirks, letting his shoulder brush against mine as he makes his way back to the rest of the squad.

   “Hey,” I snap, making his head turn back around toward me. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”

   He arches an eyebrow and challenges me with his gravelly tone. “Oh, I think I already got a good readin’ on you. Yeah, think I got you figured out jus’ fine,” he chuckles, flicking his dark eyes once more over mine.

   I scoff and dig my heel hard into the mat. “If you really knew me, you’d know that my floor and balance beam routines need the most work. My vault routine is near perfect. But apparently, you don’t know me at all.” 

   He lifts an eyebrow quizzically, letting the gears grind in his jumbled head like he’s trying to figure me out, but I don’t give him the chance. I storm off toward the uneven bars and wait with my arms crossed over my chest, fuming, just wanting to get this day over with. And I feel his eyes burn hot like a match running painfully slow through my body. 

   I’ll show him I’m not a pretty, dainty flower. I’m a tiger, and I’m out for blood. His blood.

   Joel’s POV

   The laptop screen flickers on, the Google tab already pulled up in front of my face. Using the smooth black mouse to control my thick fingers, YouTube is the link I pull up first. I quickly type out the name Madison Summers and instantly, dozens of gymnastics videos pop up on the glowing screen. Clicking on the first one, the video comes to life like a movie.  

   It’s last year’s fall competition in Orlando, Florida. The floor routine. The one she said needed to work on. 

   Sitting back comfortably into the leather office chair with my legs splayed wide, thumb tapping against the mahogany table, I scan and assess like I’m just a viewer in the audience.

   The crowd goes wild when her name is called, chanting her name and clapping like a wave of thunder. She doesn’t even flinch, her hazel eyes bright and alight with a hint of confidence glowing in the fluorescent lights that shine down on her. And when the music comes to life, so does she.

   She takes to the floor like a graceful swan, her movements as smooth as butter. She has an essence about her that screams confidence, her pretty eyes sharp and narrowed each time she flips or performs a split jump. 

   I let my fingertips scratch down my patchy scruff, eyes locked intensely when she takes a deep breath and braces for her big move. I don’t know what’s coming, but I find myself on the edge of my office chair, palms sweating as I wait with bated breath. 

   Why I’m nervous, I don’t know. But I keep my wide eyes glued to the screen, as if I’m there with her, standing on the sidelines cheering her on with clenched fists.

   She snaps, running like a prowling lion, ready to attack a pack of wild gazelles. She has fire in her eyes with every breath she takes, and I can see right there she has a heart of a winner.

   Flipping into her jump, she performs a Double Arabian, building momentum with every twist her body constructs. And when she lands, shakily, she has the crowd standing to their feet, screaming their lungs out as if she’s already won the gold. 

   She’s powerful, nearly flawless, a beautiful lioness that claws her way through the spring floor, daring anyone to take the title away from her. And I see why Coach Carr called her Shining Star now. She’s absolutely sparkling like a thousand galaxies in that room, and she’s got the entire crowd’s eyes locked on her, including mine. 

   I sit there for over an hour glued to the screen, watching every single competition video I can get my hands on. One hand digs into the leather arm, the other anxiously taps away at the side of the sleek mouse. I make little notes in my mind, things she needs to work on and moves that make her stand out amongst the rest of the gymnasts. This girl is a fucking powerhouse, and she’s got immense talent that’ll take her far.

   But there’s one tiny thing I notice. There’s an entire year missing from the videos. No trace of anything but a speck of dust. Coach Carr told me one of the girls had taken a year off, but she didn’t specify who or why. And now all I can wonder is what made this special girl lose an entire year of training? I’ll find out. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but I will figure it out one way or another. Even if I have to rip it out of her stubborn mind. 

   Madison was made to be a champion. I can see it in the way she commands a room, fighting for her chance at the gold. She’s incredible, nothing less. And dare I say, I even think she could make it to the Olympics. I will take her to the Olympics, if only she’ll accept me as her coach. 

   That stunt she pulled in practice today? She obviously hates my guts. The way she talked back to me and made it a statement to show off she could land a triple? Well, if she wants attention then she’s got my full attention now. If she wants to play with fire, I’ll give her the whole damn inferno. 

[lewkwoodnco]

but daddy, I love him! - lockwood x reader

George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.

"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."

Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.

"You think my face is pretty?"

George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.

a/n - vfvhkefrhu woooo this took a little more time than I anticipated heheh but here it is! <3

warnings/tropes - lockwood x socialite!reader, lil bit of angst, mostly fluff/humour!

word count - 3.8k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Right here, on this plush velvet couch, was where they were going to find her body. They were going to have to scrape her off bit by bit.

It was a dim Saturday morning, and Y/N was rotting in her courtyard living room with two of her friends. Sarah was preening in the full-length mirror, trying to decide if her nose was too small. Hannah was sipping a mimosa on the sofa opposite her, going on about this boy from two towns over who took her to the movies - not that she would ever be seeing him again, given that he was below her station. Y/N thought it was a shame; she couldn't remember Hannah ever showing this much of an interest in someone other than herself.

So there she sat, some unknown frustration distantly bubbling away as she was bored out of her skull. Maybe it was an ungrateful thing to say, but her fashionable lifestyle could feel glamorous for only so long. It was starting to grow stale - as stale as Sarah's obsession with her nose. She stifled a yawn, her eyes wandering to the higher floors, when something made her sit up. There it was again, a little flicker of light reflecting off of something. She mumbled something about a powder room and clumsily got to her feet, excusing herself from her inattentive guests.

It took her a while to figure out exactly where the flash was coming from, but she eventually located the corridor down where she could hear some noises. She heard a set of footsteps approaching her and turned, nearly running straight into a lanky clothes-hanger of a boy laden with all sorts of gizmos, wearing the most horribly ridiculous pair of goggles she had ever seen.

He let out a short scream and clung onto his goggles, and she reflexively caught the supplies that slipped from his arms.

"Who the hell are you?"

He owlishly blinked through his shiny, reflective goggles a few times, before reluctantly slipping them off. All thoughts about his strange attire flew from her head, replaced by one annoyingly nagging thought - he had kind eyes. Soft, trusting, kind eyes, the kind that momentarily knocked the breath out of you.

"I am so sorry..."

Don't be, she wanted to breathe out, transfixed on his eyes. He paused a little and awkwardly gestured to her arms. She glanced down and remembered where she was, hurriedly returning his supplies.

"That's some, um, interesting equipment you have."

He gave a brief smile. "Thank you. Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood & Co."

She frowned. "Lock-wood & Co. That sounds familiar."

"Well, we are a very up-and-coming psychical inv-"

"Oh! The agency that burned down Sheen Road!"

The boy's face took a faint tinge of red, and she immediately regretted putting her foot in her mouth.

"I mean - uh - you have some very interesting equipment."

He opened his mouth to respond when two more figures emerged from the shadows behind them, a girl guiding another flailing and mildly bruised boy, both of whom had donned matching goggles.

"Lockwood, I can't see shit without my glasses. How much longer do I have to make an arse out of myself? 

The girl looked at Lockwood with an injured expression. "And you said these came free from Satchell's."

Lockwood huffed irritatedly at the other boy. "Snitch."

"Boo-fucking-hoo. I told you these wouldn't work." He sucked in a breath to continue but stopped short as he finally registered Y/N. "Hang on-"

"She's alive."

"Damn."

Lockwood gestured carelessly towards the other two. "My associates, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim."

"So you're here about the third-floor Visitor?"

"Yes. We received a report about some footprints..?"

"Oh, right. Those are just below my room. Here." She led the trio to the landing at the foot of the flight of stairs leading up to her room, which was stained with a quickly disappearing smattering of bloody footprints. The other boy knelt and considered the substance.

"Ectoplasm."

Lockwood turned back to her. "How often does the Visitor make an appearance?"

"No clue; I'm blind as a bat to anything supernatural. But the footprints only show up every couple of days, so it might be a while before they show up again."

His associates started examining the scene, and he bid her farewell with a grateful smile. By the time she had returned to the courtyard, she had been gone a bit too long to have her absence go unnoticed by her friends.

"And where did you run off to?"

"Told you, the powder room." She picked up a stray magazine, keeping her tone light. "I ran into some agents on the way back."

"Ooh. From Rotwell's?"

"Lockwood & Co."

Sarah peeled herself away from the mirror, mystified. "Who?"

Her giddy glow faltered. "An agency. Mr. Lockwood was there too. I was just...having a small chat with them."

"What for? They're working class."

"Don't be rude, Sarah." Hannah turned back to Y/N, a pinched expression still lingering on her face. "But...she's not wrong."

Y/N bristled defensively. "I'll have you know they're perfectly respectable company." Better than you lot, she wanted to add.

"Why? They're...poor."

"Y/N, we only want what's best for you," Hannah added in a nauseatingly simpering voice. "And that's...not...with people like them."

She tossed her magazine aside flippantly.

"You know, I wonder how the two of you bear it."

"Bear what?"

"Walking around with your noses stuck in the air all the time."

With that, she exited the living room, fuming. Yes, she was being childish, and yes, it wasn't news that her friends were prone to arrogance, but for some reason, their attitudes were particularly grating today. They hadn't met Lockwood like she had, of course they wouldn't understand. She replayed the feeling of watching him remove his goggles for the first time - unexpectedly climactic, and somehow...familiar.

She was sure of it. They would never understand.

For the next few nights, there would be a Lockwood & Co. employee stationed at the landing, complete with iron chains, flares, and salt. They'd bring along something to occupy themselves, like a book or a 3D puzzle, but it still felt nice to have a short chat with them before she went up to her room. 

With Lockwood, the chats always lasted a little longer, and maybe she stayed up a little later than she ought to on those nights, but really, it wasn't anything special. Little by little, they pieced each other together. She's restoring her father's old radio. He likes his orange juice with pulp. She has an older brother she hasn't talked to in months. He visits his family's graves on the first Tuesday of every month.

The more time she spent with Lockwood, the more she realised how uninteresting she found everyone else. Somewhere between their stilted whispers and muffled laughter, she started to desire something...more. 

"Hey."

Lockwood looked up from his magazine from where he was sitting cross-legged, encircled by his iron chains. He glanced at his watch, startled.

"You're back early."

She wrinkled her nose. "Wasn't enjoying the fundraiser."

"What about your friends?"

"They wanted to stay."

"So they let you leave? All by yourself?"

She bit her tongue. "Nothing wrong in that."

"No, of course not." As he was on the first day they met, Lockwood was quick to be an agreeable companion. But this trait added weight to the few times he chose to disagree. "But...nothing right either."

"It's alright. I'd hate to spoil their night." She sank onto the carpeted steps. "How's the investigation going?"

Lockwood glanced at the temperature sensor placed slightly outside the iron circle. "Temperature's dropping more than usual. Could just be because it's chillier today, but you never know." He looked up, and the moonlight illuminated his starkly pale face. "Do you not have any Talent?"

She hesitated. "A little. Not much, mind, certainly not enough to be an agent. But it was never something I needed to consider. I know people have it bad out there, but I'm just..."

"...too rich."

She gave a wry smile. "What gave it away? Besides the skyscraper ceilings, of course." They laughed briefly, before quickly sinking into a jagged silence.

"What's your home like?"

"It's...it's hard to describe. I don't think I could do it justice. You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."

"You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."

Lockwood was staring very hard at his sneakers. She found the whole thing highly amusing.

"Lockwood, I'd leave with you right now if I could. Really. It's just...my father..."

Her father would sooner have an aneurysm than let her 'play hooky,' as he would put it, especially with this less-than-glamorous ragtag team of misfits. While it had occasionally been a source of mild annoyance before, she never resented him as much as she did right then. And all that was without considering all the eyebrows that a guy like Lockwood would raise.

The faint moonlight was enough to make out the glimmer of his teeth, the curve of his face, the shadows settling around his deep-set eyes. She ached to know the look on his face, to know how he was feeling. The sprigs of lavender she had weaved into the hem of her dress were heavily perfuming the air, heady enough to make the evocative pull of his gaze strangely irresistible.

She peered at him through the railings, whose shadows marred his face, painfully reminiscent of a prison cell. She slid her hand along the bannister, gripping it firmly. It was moments like these when the rest of the house was quiet, too quiet, that she felt something flutter in her chest. Some compulsion flickering through her tendons to reach out through the railings, brush her fingers across his cheekbone, to have and to hold-

"It's getting late." Lockwood put his coat back on and started gathering some of his equipment. "I think I'll call it a night."

She hurriedly got to her feet too, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. "Yeah. No, me too. I should...I should get some rest."

Still, she lingered at the foot of the stairs long enough for Lockwood to pack away the chains. As he straightened, he turned to her as if he could feel that she was brimming with...something. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed this night, and every night before. She wanted to tell him how happy he made her.

But she couldn't find the words.

"Good night," she said softly.

That was the last of their secret late-night rendezvous, as the Shade finally reappeared the following night and was safely put to rest by Lucy, along with any hopes of a budding romance. 

Five days after what Y/N had thought was the last time she'd lay eyes on Anthony Lockwood (not that she was keeping count), she was quite happily proven wrong. Lockwood and George had paid a visit to collect their payment from her father. 

She was not-so-casually lounging at the opposite end of the living room with her friends. The magazine she was holding upside down wouldn't have fooled anyone if they were paying attention, especially coupled with her relentlessly staring at Lockwood. She had been a little on edge when he had first walked in, hating how their last conversation had ended. But all it took was one of his easy, soothing smiles as he discreetly glanced at her to calm her down. She buried her nose deeper into the magazine as if she hadn't seen it, failing to hold her smile back.

When she had sufficiently composed herself, she peeked over the edge of the magazine to see the boys having some sort of disagreement as her father was writing out a cheque. Lockwood seemed to want to do something and George seemed to be holding him back until the cheque had been written.

As soon as her father had handed the cheque to them, George accepted it with a hurried thanks and a funny bow before practically running out. Lockwood took a deep breath before launching into some kind of monologue while occasionally glancing at her. Openly. Her father's face remained impassive. 

She put away her magazine, mystified as she tried to make out what he was saying, trying to keep the dread creeping into her at bay. Even her friends had picked up on something being amiss as they followed her line of sight.

Her stomach sank as she caught a glimpse of the hard look on her father's face. By now, it couldn't have been more obvious that Lockwood was asking him...about her. She wanted to shake him, yell at him to run away, but some kind of morbid fascination, or perhaps a deep-seated fear, had locked her limbs, forcing her to helplessly watch as the events cruelly unfolded. She knew her father, and she knew Lockwood would never be able to change his mind. At least, she was quite certain.

She snapped out of her haze and leapt to her feet, but it was too late. By the time she had reached the pair, her father was already bidding him a stern farewell.

"...and if you ever talk to my daughter again, I will personally make sure that you never find work another day in London."

Lockwood turned sharply and briskly walked out, his facial features carefully schooled, seemingly oblivious to her hurrying over, or her gasp of despair. He took long strides that made it difficult for her to keep up with him, and he didn't stop until he joined George outside, closing the wrought iron gate between her and him. She clutched one of the bars and he almost immediately wrapped his hand around her.

"Lockwood - "

"You should go back inside before your father sees us."

"Please, listen - I'm really sorry."

"It's alright. I understand."

"My father's never been the understanding type, far from it - "

"I know - I knew that."

"This is all my fault. I should have warned you."

"No, don't...you didn't know I was going to do this."

"We could have kept it a secret."

"And have you sneak around? Lie to your father? Y/N, I'm not above taking the easy route when the situation calls for it, but not in this case. I wanted to do right by you."

Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Lockwood looked as outwardly poised and calm as ever, but with the two of them this close, she could see the frustration simmering in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry - so mad - that he threatened you like that."

"To hell with my agency." He sighed and pressed his forehead against the gate, lowering his eyes to where their hands were clasped together in some pathetic pseudo-embrace. "I know how much his approval means to you. I just wish I could have gotten that."

They were silent for a moment. There was only a gentle breeze but no rustling leaves, and even George seemed sorry for his best friend. It was quiet enough to feel like they could hear each other's heartbeat but from opposite sides of the gate. 

"I'm still sorry."

Lockwood bowed his head. "So am I."

He brushed his lips against her knuckles before pulling his fingers out of her palm and walking out of her life. She watched the two of them walk away, unable to leave the gate and come to terms with what had happened. For a moment there, before her father's expression had shifted, she had felt a glimmer of hope for her happy ending.

But reality had struck, and now all she could do was go up to her room, walk through the empty landing, and sob into her pillow as her heart screamed for the life she ached for so desperately.

She allowed herself the day to grieve, but by nightfall, she had already started plotting her next steps. The next day, she decided to broach the topic at the breakfast table, where her friends were already seated, whispering furiously until she walked in. She sat opposite her father as usual, who was reading the day's newspaper.

"Dad. I want to talk about yesterday. With - with Lockwood."

He gave no indication of having heard her. She could feel her friends' hawk-eye stares boring into her skin. Against her better judgment, she pressed on.

"I think...you should give him a second chance."

She could practically hear her friends salivating in excitement, flinching as her father set the paper down. He had a bit of a temper, no more than her, but it was never unwarranted.

"And why is that?"

"He may not have much, but he's capable, hard-working, resilient-"

"I know exactly the type of person he is, and before yesterday I thought you did too. Or have you forgotten Sheen Road?"

She nervously fidgeted with the buttons on her dress, suddenly feeling trapped and suffocated. This was going to be an uphill battle, she could see that, now that her blaze of self-righteousness was beginning to fade. "That was a one-off," she mumbled.

"Not quite. I rang up DEPRAC afterwards, and they said in no uncertain terms that his agency was one good accident away from being shut down. He's known to behave recklessly and rarely per the law - "

"Have you stopped to think why he might act this way? You've spoken to him yourself - doesn't seem the irrational type, does he?"

He sighed irritatedly.

"Is this really the type of person you want to throw your whole life away for? To tarnish your reputation?"

"It's my life and it's my name. If I wish to burn my life to the ground or throw my name in the mud, that's my choice. You don't get a say in that."

"To do all this over a washed-up, good-for-nothing-"

"But Daddy, I love him!"

"I don't - "

"And I'm having his child."

Sarah shrieked and dropped her compact. Even Hannah was rendered speechless, nervously pulling at her braid. Her father's eyes looked as though they were about to fall out of his head. An uncomfortable, prickling silence followed.

"Okay, I'm not, but you should see your faces."

Sarah gave a dramatic sigh of relief as Hannah released her braid. "Oh my, what a mess-"

"Don't you start." She turned back to her father, fresh out of all the hope and ammunition she had walked into the room with. "Please, Daddy. Never...never once have I complained about any of your rules. Can't I-" her voice broke off as she struggled to hold back a sob. "Can't I please just have this one thing?"

Her father looked unmoved.

"You listen to me, Y/N - stay away from him."

She glanced around the room desperately, trying to figure one last way out. One last way out. That was all she needed.

She found it.

"Fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe...maybe he is bad news."

She stood up, wrenching her anxious fingers away from her buttons, poised to run out of the room.

"But I love him anyway."

Lucy and Lockwood were at Portland Row going over the floor plans of the house of their next case. Lucy was trying her best to keep Lockwood on task, but she had never seen him this disinterested in their work. 

She was struggling to hold his attention while he was fidgeting with a pen not very skillfully when they heard an insistent tapping on their kitchen window. They looked up to see Y/N waving at them frantically, gesturing towards the front door. Lockwood leapt up from their kitchen table, nearly stabbing himself with the pen, and joined her outside. There was something very nervous about Y/N's body language, especially since she started talking a mile a minute as soon as Lockwood stepped out.

"God, your eyebags look horrendous in the light. Do you ever-?"

The door shut behind the two of them. Lucy waited at the table for a minute or so, but once it became apparent they weren't about to finish anytime soon, she fetched a book and started to read. About ten minutes later, the front door opened again, but this time it was George returning from the Archives.

"Oh, George, can you tell Lockwood to come back inside?"

"What?"

"Lockwood."

"Where?"

"Outside."

"...outside where?"

"Outside, George. Don't be daft."

George stared at her cluelessly.

"He is still outside...?"

The realisation hit them both at once as they tripped over each other on their way to the front door. They looked out into the half-empty street, and the empty parking space in front of their house.

"George," Lucy asked, feeling majorly peeved by now. "Where is the car we rented for the weekend?"

Over the next month, neither Lucy nor George heard a word from Lockwood. After a particularly intense discussion that day, they decided not to alarm anyone by filing a missing person's report. But he had been absent from public view for a suspiciously long time, and Barnes was starting to find the story they concocted about Lockwood's debilitating illness less and less convincing.

Lucy and George had just arrived home after their latest case, which they were lucky enough to finish early. Lucy flicked on the kitchen light and there, sitting at the kitchen table, as he was nearly a month back, was Lockwood. He looked a little taller and a little less gaunt than they remembered. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, speechless, until the two of them launched themselves at him.

George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.

"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."

Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.

"You think my face is pretty?"

George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.

"Wait - WAIT - you'll crumple the invites!"

"What invites?"

"To a - uh - how do I put this..."

"Spit it OUT - "

"Wedding!"

"Whose?"

Lockwood brought his arms down from where he was shielding his face, smiling bashfully. The three of them exchanged looks ranging from congratulatory to homicidal.

"What about -"

"He came around. We had lunch with him earlier."

"Wow. That's...congratulations. I just can't believe..."

"I know, we can't either."

"...that you didn't come straight home?"

"Geo- look, George, I wanted to, believe me, I - not the face, NOT THE -"

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @ahead-fullofdreams @mitskiswift99 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @mohinithoughts @avdiobliss @snoopyluver20 @mischivana @dangelnleif

[catofoldstones]

The Ashford Theory and my patience running thin

Welcome, welcome my guys, gals and non-binary pals, to another scream into the void that the Ashford theory is, in fact, very jonsa

On to the arguments!

1. The suitor has to have the correct last name, not family, look at Joffrey Baratheon, you stupid jonsa

Hypothesis - the suitor has to have the corresponding name, not family, and because Jon is a Snow he’s out of the running. The other prong is fAegon who is actually a Blackfyre and not Targeryen, who can also be the suitor.

Thesis - Joffrey is the only other suitor to have a different name. Joffrey and Jon have also been set up as foils from the start of AGOT. Joffrey is a bastard masquerading as the rightful king and Jon is the rightful king (thrice crowned) masquerading as a bastard. It makes sense that they are the only two suitors to have the wrong name as this establishes them as inverses in another way. The last suitor being the foil of the horrible first suitor thereby showing character growth, and plot progression and resolution? Count me in.

As for Young Griff being a Blackfyre, here’s a meta or two, maybe even an argument, for him being the real Aegon VI Targaryen but take my personal fav evidences of Tyrion figuring out that Young Griff is Aegon VI Targaryen and then, Varys literally telling a dying Kevan Lannister about the true Targaryen prince and why would you lie to a dying man? How does that serve your purpose?

This is literally grrm telling us who Young Griff actually is, though this does not count him I out of the contenders, it reduces the weight of him being the fifth suitor, due to story arcs and well, his doomed fate.

Conclusion - While Aegon VI is a strong contender, there is much, much more literary weight and nuance with Jon being the Targaryen suitor.

2. Lady Ashford was not crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty by any champion!!! Take that jonsas

Hypothesis - tQoLaB is a title analogous to a betrothal/love interest

Thesis - there have been no allusions to the title of tQoLaB while trying to foreshadow a relationship, except for a really, really bad one (r + l) that plunged the whole realm into a civil war and we should not take that as a good sign

Conclusion - we’re grasping at straws here besties

3. Dunk disrupted the Ashford Tourney, therefore Sxndxr will disrupt Sansa’s prospects and other things

Hypothesis - Dunk & Sxndxr are are analogous and since there was no conclusion to the Tourney we can safely assume that it’s sxnsxn foreshadowing

Thesis - Brienne is the Dunk asoiaf corollary, not Sxndxr. Brienne is theorized to be Dunk’s descendant. She even has her shield painted like Dunk’s, apart from their striking character parallels and being a true foil to all the other knights in the story. Mr. Gravedigger is just tall :/

“Your door reminded me of an old shield I once saw in my father’s armory.”

Brienne II, AFFC

Brienne has Dunk’s shield in her family home possibly because she’s a descendant of Dunk but then goes ahead and gets her shield painted exactly like this one

“[The painted shield] was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father’s armory. She remembered how she’d run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star.”

Brienne II, AFFC

Secondly, just because the tourney did not have a (satisfactory) conclusion does not mean that the tourney did not exist to serve a purpose. I doubt grrm would likely give out his whole story as early as 1998.

Conclusion - BRIENSA 4eva!!!!!

4. Valarr Targaryen died of a sickness and Aegon VI is doomed to die and is connected to a sickness, are you looking at the nerves popping out of my thick, brainy skull

Thesis - the fifth suitor is 100% Aegon and there’s no one else

Hypothesis - there is a Targaryen.. currently dead.. in the books… (thnk u @istumpysk for ur galaxy brain). The plague in the story serves to connects Aegon more to Dany than to a northern girl he doesn’t know about and might not like since she’s a Stark and his mother is Elia Martell.

Conclusion - jonsa

5. This is all a coincidence & u jonsas are reaching as always

Hypothesis - though george is known to tie every deep end, every crack theory, even farfetched ones that the readers have not caught, this one thing completely skipped his notice because exceptions are always there

Thesis - yes, because this is acotar & not asoiaf and he’s not grrm, i am

Conclusion - JONSAAAAAAAAAAAA

[exactlyyoungchaos]

till forever falls apart.

The bestfriendSimon x f!Reader fic I first talked about.

cw: all sorts of trauma, character death, fluff, probable smut, inaccurate military stuff, a little bit canon and a little bit AU. do tell me if i missed something.

Your history with Simon goes back to elementary school. He grew up in an abusive household and you grew up in foster care with guardians who only cared about the government money.

Both of you bonded over the same things and became inseparable.

No one dared to mess with you in school because they knew if they did, they would have to answer Simon, and nobody wanted to cross him.

Junior year of high school starts and you get a visit from your social service agent, who wants to relocate you, but you are adamant that you want to stay here, but alas she takes you kicking and screaming.

Simon promises that he will find you in the future, and so with tears in both of your eyes, you leave. The same year Simon ran away from home.

Now 12 years later, he is on an undercover intel mission in Australia with Johnny. that's when he spots you, sitting in a cafe, looking like a dream, writing furiously on your laptop.

How does he knows its you? why wouldn't he? You were, are everything to him. The only person who knows him better than himself.

He has been trying to find you for years but always came out empty handed. By joining the military he thought it would be easy but it wasn't.

Johnny notices him freezing in the middle of the sidewalk staring intently at the glass window of the cafe, he turns to see what caught his Lt's eye and he sees the prettiest bonnie lass that he's ever seen.

he smirks " see something you like Lt?"

"that's her" Simon barely whispers, his heart racing.

Johnny's head snaps in your direction again, everyone in the team knows who you are. the little bird Simon has been trying to find for years.

and here you are, sitting in the cafe, oblivious to the fact that the man you have been looking for is standing right outside.

You finish your work and pack up your stuff to leave, you turn around and slam face-first into a wall of muscle. A strong hand stabilizes you as a soft 'oomph" leaves your mouth.

now, you are not small in any proportions, but this man still dwarfs you.

you look up to apologize and the sorry dies on your tongue as you come face to face with a skull mask.

your brain short circuits for a minute, and you're trying to figure out what to say then suddenly a heavily accented voice speaks from behind him " A'm so sorry Bonnie, he wasn't keen" a bulky man with a mohawk speaks.

they both look like they came out of some military comic. scarred, bulky, and big.

"it's ok, I wasn't looking either" you reply, looking back to the big guy in the mask, who's still blocking your path.

"Birdie...." the big guy breathes in through his teeth.

Recognition hits you like a tsunami. only one person in your life called you that—your best friend.

your eyes turn comically wide as you ask "Simon?" in a small voice, not believing it's him.

His gloved hands frame your face and he traces every inch of you with his eyes.

You look into his eyes and familiarity hits you, the same warm brown eyes that used to comfort you, that was your home, now standing at almost 6ft 5 in.

"Found ya."

and any sense of where you are leaves your mind as you leap into his arms and hug him as tight as possible. his beefy arms come around you and crush you to his chest as he breathes in your sweet scent.

you hold him and sob, he's here you can't believe it. He's here.

finally, finally.......somebody clears their throat next to you. you turn your head from Simon's chest and see a line of people waiting to sidestep both of you but unsure because of the sheer size of the man in front of you.

"We are blocking the line Si," you giggle and sob simultaneously.

hearing your voice after so long, Simon feels like he can breathe again.

you are here, his birdie, his angel, his everything. and this time no one can take you away from him. No one.

SOOOOOOOO!! WHAT DO WE THINK????? This is going to be a multi-part series because I'm just starting with this. I have so much to add.

Do tell me your thoughts and theories. And feel free to ask anything

And if you have requests for COD more specifically Simon, do send them my way, I'll try my best to write them.

love ya!!!!!

ALI-❤️

[thewandererh]

🐏Counting Sleep

| { [ ( a post-coma cccclinic short story ) ] } |

for character references, visit here

please do not tag this as a ship

_…~^*^~…_ _…~^*^~…_ _…~^*^~…_

big, white, heavy eyes

beaming straight into my skull

my ribs start to burn

gasping awake as if empty, a heartbeat rages in his ribs. it’s dark. everything’s so dark.

hands fumble for the bedside lamp while eyes dash about the darkness. any shape perceived as a threat. light bursts from the lamp to reveal a pile of laundry and a coat on the door hook. the relief is overwhelming.

noa wheezes, leaning back before falling to the pillow. a hand at his forehead with the other at his chest. he’s calming down now. breathing proper again. eyes daring to close.

those big, white, and heavy eyes flick into existence behind his eyelids. shivering breaths and tremors overtake his entire figure. the nightmare lingered prominent in his mind, overbearing and overwhelming. any attempt to close his eyes or block it out was met with those masked eyes.

it wasn’t apart of leo now. but that thing—that thing still haunted him. it hurt so much. why did it still hurt so much??

panic and anxiety coursed through his pulse. he hugged himself tight in the sheets. but repressing the visage with pressure was no use. the thick blanket now encompassing him blocked out the lamp’s light. tears crawled into and out of his eyes as air became sparse under the blanket.

he couldn’t do this by himself.

noa unveiled himself to the world, gaze tearing across the dark corners of his room. simon’s desk was bare and tidy, and the night stood silent except for his panic. noa took a deep breath and thought. moments passed. enveloped in twisting anxiety while trying to calm it. although paying attention to it felt worse. he couldn’t help bringing his knees close to him as his entire body shivered. systems shellshocked. the fabric of his drapey pjs promised comfort: the blue with leopard spots felt mangled but fluffy. noa’s eyes lit up when resolve strummed his core. conclusion. a big inhale got him moving again. a decision to go and made in the moment.

the floor was cold under thick socks. neat and sturdy. beamed with smooth wood. panic screamed doubt under every movement. painfully holding him back. yet he got up.

noa made it to the door alive. gripping the steel reflecting his lamp’s light with sweaty palms. turning it flung open to reveal a dark hallway. a lump of fear nearly blocked his throat. yet he pushed on. tunnel visioned and unsure of his every step—this could be his grave. the strumming resolve dimmed inside him, and the next step faltered.

down the hall. to the left. former study. dove’s room.

each further stride could only be taken with the thought of the pale purple walls. the blankets of fluff dove encased themself in. how they held his hand while noa told them all a story. wetness pierced his vision again but he steadied himself with a breath.

everything lasted forever in the darkness pressing in on his body. suffocating beyond end. he functionally stumbled to the door, croaking it open with swiftness. the creak made him flinch.

a gasp resounded in further darkness revealed by the door. a scared and tired sound. then silence. forced silence made when the hunted percieves a threat.

/d-don’t worry. it’s me, w-whole. noa. hi. i-…sorry. c-can i…?/

dove sighed thankfully, shifting in their bed before patting a spot in the darkness. had they already been awake? noa picked his way across the room, begging his eyes to adjust faster. shapes glared from every corner, yet he remained pulled toward the bed. something sharp met his knee and he gasped through his teeth. dove held out a hand and noa took it. he let it guide him to the bed. sighing with a quiver, he shook and massaged his aching knee. dove reached for it but noa flinched aback. they reflected the flinch, headwings subtly puffing. startled. confused. frightened?

/i-i….i…..i’m sorry. i th-think it was the…tablesomething./

noa sighed, frazzled. he let dove feel his knee.

/no blood. i-i just…i had a nightmare. i…/

the lump in his throat choked him up at last. rivers bled from his face like hungry snakes.

dove shifted, then held him.

moment after moment. precious seconds of comfort.

reassurance gathered as they rocked from side to side.

massaging and warming. releasing tension.

finding relief in the finality of peace.

hearing dove breathe comforted him. he settled and sighed. sleepy.

it was too dark to sign anything, and words couldn’t escape noa’s throat without bringing on tears. so no one spoke. it stayed silent, peaceful, calm, and serene.

dove pulled back from the backrub, gently smiling while wiping a tear away from noa’s face. dove then scooted and patted the bed beside them, offering him to stay and perhaps (platonically) snuggle. a shiver snuck up noa’s spine in the cold darkness, and he succumbed to the idea of comfort.

noa lay weakly, and dove tucked him in. pulling a blanket from the basket and using their fingertips to tuck it under his sides. effectively burritoing him. dove rummaged around for a loose sleeping eyemask, and handed it to noa. he took it and sighed, looking at it with adjusted eyes. it was soft and sheep-like, with a closed-eyes decal and sheep ears on the front. brought him a smile as he put it on.

the world fuzzed out. not seeing felt so…peaceful. something stepped off of his chest and shoulders as comforting darkness slid over his eyes. no more veiny red. no more piercing masked eyes. it was so soft.

noa found dove’s hand when they’d settled in, wings and hair drooping across the pillows. heartbeats steady and tired. exhausted by the fuss panic and confusion brought. a throat burning with the aftermath of agony, another ineffective but and soundless. two hands within the other’s grasp. physically separate, but unified with comfort. dove shuffled into sleep. noa pensively pondered the cause for this twilight anxiety.

the nightmare’s memory was recalled from his head. it was…a feeling. overfilled to the point of waking him up. that…thing. that entity of perfect existence still haunted him. that idealism. that torment. that want to never worry about his health again. it was reasonable, really. a manifestation of struggle and self-loathing. a hate bent to unstitch his sinew. tear him open. noa understood where it came from: a cavity in his body that held onto the past, and the sights that came with it. the stuckness and fear. the mistrust and toxicity.

that wasn’t who leo was anymore. leo had been burdened by the anxiety that noa manifested within him. gave to him. projected. noa had separated himself from his feelings so wholly that it grew beyond his control. become something and someone else entirely. yet when the universe of emotions in his head tested him, he perservered. he recovered. he was better now—they all were. he understood himself. challenges like that can be overcome. and if he could jump that strange, near-supernatural horror hurdle, then who knows what he couldn’t do.

noa finally fell asleep tucked in by dove and weakly grasping their hand. calmly counting breath like sheep.