#I told the police what had happened and who they need to be on the lookout for etc. and a police officer eventually escorted me home

[hopefullyyoursmcg]

Routine

Motherhood.

Motherhood wasn't something you had planned in your life.

If you graduated university, a normal person’s life goal was to get a job, find a somewhat safe place to sleep under(if that even exists in Gotham City), and follow a reunion while, if you had any, keeping a close connection with your family.

Well, that last one wasn't an option in your case.

Yep, like most middle-class children, you were given the old tradition of losing your parents. In your case, it was your mom. She was a hard-working lady who used to work in big business but, after sleeping with her boss, got pregnant with you. She quit because she didn’t want the child to suffer the consequences of an unloved marriage or a possible hand-over situation.

Your parents had sex sure, but lust and love are two separate things.

Your childhood until your mother's death wasn't too bad. Your mother worked hard at a different business. You were dropped off at a nursery for most of the day, so you weren’t short on friends. At the end of the day, the two of you would eat and play together until it was time to sleep.

It was fine, not perfect but fine and most importanly you were happy.

When your mother died. It was a Friday. You were only 6, she was on a late-night shift and had left you with a trusted old lady that smelled like cat pee but was kind. She had promised you before you left that the two of you would go out to your favorite burger place after your first day of primary school.

That day never happened.

All that’s left of her is her pearl earring. Only one of them, as the burglar that murdered her snatched the other pearl off her ear before running off.

What happened afterward was a blur, the police picked you up, took you to the station, told you what happened, and gave you the hearing after it was processed. You didn’t cry until you saw the earrings. The earrings were a sign that she was dead, and she was never coming back.

How they found out about your father was very surprising. A policeman was told to grab the kid's things while waiting for child services.

While looking for some important documents, they found an envelope that had on its front:

“In case of my death”

The envelope contained a will. It was neat and tidy and straight to the point. Your mother was always two steps ahead and always wanted to be prepared for anything. So she created a trust fund the moment she gave birth to you, just in case something ever happened to you, you’d at least be fine financially. It wasn't a lot but there was an intrest plan included within the trust fund so as you grew so was the money.

That wasn't all, of course, your father was revealed within this letter as well, in the case where you were still underaged when she died, as she had no family of her own.

Bruce Wayne was your biological father.

So what happened after that, well like most neglected reader fics, yours wasn't any different.

 Bruce did take you in but this was during the time of Jason's death so emotionally Bruce couldn’t be there for you. Dick was already out of the manor so all you had left was Alfred.

The old man did take care of you yes. He made sure you were full of healthy and delicious food and brought you to places you needed to be like your fancy new school. But Alfred couldn’t always be there which left you to be alone.

One thing you noticed while being alone after a few years is that it hurts. I mean sure your mom had to work late, but at least you had grandma pee (yes you called her that, she thought you were saying the letter p as her name is Penelope), and as soon as she came back all her attention was on you.

Due to this, you grew up and fast. You knew this family wasn't going to include you so why should you bother, I mean as Bruce's army of children grew and grew, it was obvious he could spend time with them. He just didn’t want to spend time with you.

The moment you finish high school, you turn 18, and that was when you can access your trust fund, and with the money you were entitled to you used it for University and studied your ass off.

You had a plan. You were going to graduate, you were going to get a job and then you would be the furthest highest penthouse and you were going to do well in life. Like your mother, you had a stubborn drive and you weren’t going to just lie around.

So after a few years, you did it, you weren’t valedictorian or anything like that, but all that mattered was you graduated Gotham State University with a nice job as a receptionist at this office that was owned by the new founder of a women-only company. The benefits were great, the pay was good and some of your female friends had gotten jobs at the same place at other departments.

You were doing fine.  Your friends that you made along the way insisted on going out. To celebrate.

And I mean you earned it, you had just graduated from freaken university you deserved this big break before your boring work life started next month.

So you partied, you got drunk, and there were good-looking men everywhere.

What could possibly go wrong?

A positive Pregnancy test in front you would probably do it.

-----

This is my fist time writing something like this so please forgive me if this is bad. ill delete in a few days if it doesnt feel right.

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! | itoshi rin x fem reader

part eight: new couple || BAND AU, A BIT AGED UP

plot: after your band's last concert, a few days after Rin's, an online competition arises about who is the best bassist. A whole new challenge is created by the new fandom who loves you, but people don't know that you and the bassist of Blue Lock haven't spoken in about 3 years since you broke up, when you were sixteen

characters presentation || last part || next part ; words: 0.8k

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

A few days later, with the bass in the case and a lot of anxiety, you headed to the music studio that they had told you about in your direct messages. You were very anxious, both for the situation and for seeing Rin after a long time

The last time you saw each other in person, 3 years ago, he broke up with you. He had been quick with his words, but the void he had left inside you could not be filled even a little after so much time. You had not shown interest in him since that day, but you knew perfectly well that you were still hurting. You hadn't moved even an inch from him, who seemed to have a girlfriend

Sitting on the couch you tune your bass, while some cameras, turned off, are placed around you to get the best angles. The song that won the third poll is "Every Breath You Take" by "Police", but in all this Rin still hasn't shown up. Strange for him, who has always been a precise person... maybe his girlfriend is telling him not to go here

Just as you think it, the door to the studio opens, revealing a staff member with Rin behind him. It's like your heart does a somersault as you see him again after such a long time, time you've often used to imagine this moment: what would his face show? What would he do? What would happen? Yet, beyond the usual cold look as he places his bass guitar next to the couch, there's no trace of surprise in his gaze. Maybe he didn't even notice you, and this is confirmed when he sits on the couch with you while he starts tuning his bass, as if he hadn't just seen his ex again

He's moved on. He doesn't need to notice you.

Rin has a girlfriend. He's a faithful guy.

He's moved on. You have to accept that.

"Before we start, I want to thank you both for being here! It's so important for us at the editorial team to have you here" the smiling boy says, and you nod, smiling back "It's my pleasure" you say, and you glance at Rin who doesn't seem to be paying attention to the boy's words at all, as he continues to tune his instrument. You and the man look at each other for a few seconds, probably thinking the same thing about the other bassist's silence, who only then looks up, but obviously not towards you "I'm ready"

The man explains your parts, giving you some scores. You will divide the song into two parts, each one will do one and you will be filmed, then the video will be published on the team's profile. From that moment, the poll will start for who did the best part. Try both of your parts a few times, without looking at each other, the only noise in the room being your notes and the chatter of the staff members who watch you fascinated, perhaps incredulous at having two such popular stars together in the same place

You and Rin don't dare look at each other, not during practice or at the recording, where you are the first one to be filmed since you are in charge of doing the first piece of the nice song. You try to be familiar with the camera, smiling as your fingers strum the notes you have learned by heart. You are used to the cameras, after all, it's not that hard to be comfortable. As your song is about to end, Rin's fingers begin to play on his bass, slowly raising the pitch of the notes' speed. When you look up, you're surprised to find your ex's eyes looking at you shameless. It's a quick gesture, lasting less than two seconds, but your heart and mind abandon you completely

Rin still has a lot of effect on you. You hate to admit it, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that's not enough to drive you crazy. It's just that when your eyes meet again for the first time after 3 years, it's as if everything you've experienced together as a couple flashes before your eyes, reflecting the experiences in his. It's something you can't stop, but it continues until the moment he lowers his gaze, concentrating on his notes

You catch your breath when your part is over and the cameras focus on the Blue Lock guy. As you tighten your hands around the neck of your bass, you feel so lost from the experience that just happened. You would have expected something, maybe not from him but certainly from you, but you didn't expect such a powerful reaction from your body. It's as if it confirms to you that not only your mind and soul has remained on that day, but also your body, which now shakes a bit

The song ends, Rin stops moving his fingers on the fretboard of his bass. The staff applauds you and you come back to reality a little, while you thank everyone in a low voice for the opportunity and for the beautiful video they made of both of you..But while you do this, Rin has already taken his instrument and left the room

TAGLIST: @x3nafix ; @kittenish0 ; @littlejapanesesightseeingtrip ; @pan-kojiwa ; @pookalicious-hq ; @kaz-0e ; @sof888a ; @chugging-bleach ; @matchablossomsss ; @lovelymeguru ; @thebestsetter ; @yamsverse ; @princesssae ; @yuukigyatgyat ; @azharyy ; @rwbie ; @bubybubsters ; @swagkittybear ; @syarc0re ; @rink1sser ; @frogsrules ; @hwaassaa

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[radioisntdead]

I am SUFFERING AND SOON Y'ALL WILL BE TOO, I AM COOKING SOMETHING [Oc and hazbin which reminds me I'm gonna rewatch it tonight]

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[fragglerockopinions]

Am I just a bad person. I don't think anything I've done has ever made people bitter and have a years long grudge against me? Or I'm the only person in the entire world who experiences this kind of feeling and I'm just an asshole. I still hold very hard grudges towards even people I like and am friends with because they won't apologize for something terrible and harmful they did to me and I don't want to let it go because it changed the trajectory of my entire life.

[kachulein]

I guess my dream is quite long and detailed... I reached all 30 tags so I'll finish it off below the cut:

(Also TW: violence/murder for both the tags and below the cut)

He addressed me as Kitty or Kitten and basically treated and talked to me as if I was a cat and he had no bigger joys in life than to "play" with me now.

Me cowering in the corner was even more ironic now because the dynamic man versus cat was kind of established that way

At this point my brain was going into overdrive - how was I supposed to get out of this alive? The only chance I had was to catch him by surprise, sneak around him and escape through the door, so that's what I tried when I felt as if the right moment had come

I quickly got up and dashed around him, he turned in surprise but managed to hold on to me and drag me back before I had been able to fully exit the room

Now I was pressed up against his side and he was making even more snide and disgusting/creepy/predatory comments, really enjoying the thought of me as a human "kitty cat" and anticipating the moment in which he could take my last breath away

He started strangling me with his hands, I'm not sure if he also injured me with a weapon, I only remember how my neck was very bloody afterwards - especially on one side, so he might've injured me there with a knife

But at that point, that wasn't important to me as I was gasping for air and trying my best to make my struggle be heard and scream in some way, shape, or form

I think it was successful as I heard someone running up the stairs while I started getting dizzier with every second, my system screaming for oxygen while I was struggling against his hold

Suddenly, though, the door slammed open and it revealed my cousin standing there, a furious spark of anger in his eyes

He didn't hesitate one bit when he flung himself at the guy, tore him away from me and fell on the bed right next to us with him

Then I only saw him hovering over the guy, taking out a knife and stabbing and slitting his throat, blood splattering out and covering the sheets as the guy's body went limp

It was finally over, I had survived, and my cousin had saved me

When the police arrived we were like "y'all couldn't have come here a bit sooner??"

I met the woman/girlfriend again, she was taken away in handcuffs, looking saddened

As she passed by me she told me she really loved him even though she never liked what he'd done to other people (not just those he murdered, but also the mistreatment of others, etc.)

I asked her if he had been abusive towards her, too, but she told me that he had always been the most amazing and sweetest guy to her and she never had to fear he'd do anything bad to her

I was glad to hear that, I told her that I was sorry it had to end like this and we parted ways on kinda good terms, so to say ???

When I got home I finally had a chance to examine my condition and potential injuries (apparently I wasn't brought to a doctor or hospital?)

My neck definitely had marks on it and you could tell someone had tried to strangle me to death, and then I also found the blood stain on the left side of my neck

But I couldn't recall a moment in which I was injured there, so I thought that I hadn't noticed it while I was almost killed :'))

and then I woke up-

Reblog and put in the tags a dream you had that seems like you're making it up when describing it but it's something you genuinely dreamed.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of the scariest things that ever happened to me was when I was working at Red Robin. I was around eighteen and I worked as a host. I answered phones, opened doors, and seated people. The job wasn’t strenuous.

One night, the phone rang. It was fully dark outside. My shift was almost over and my mom was picking me up because I still didn’t have a car of my own. She was waiting in the parking lot when the store phone rang.

I picked up with a chirpy greeting and slammed into a horror movie when a gruff voice informed me that he could see me. He had a shotgun pointed into the building and I’d see brain matter sprayed across the walls if I didn’t do what he said. My brain froze in blind panic. I couldn’t believe this terrible thing was really happening to me.

The restaurant was all windows, visible on all sides by the parking lot except for the kitchen. He could be looking in from any direction, shotgun leveled on customers, or coworkers, or me. “Do you hear me?” he asked.

I stared in blank terror, not answering until he yelled, “Do you fucking hear me?!”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Do you have a cellphone?”

“Yes,” I was so transfixed with fear it hadn’t occurred to me to lie.

“Give me the number.”

My mind suddenly whirred into panicky circles. I couldn’t give some crazy man my phone number, I needed to do something else but I couldn’t make up a number either because my head was pounding with adrenaline. My frightened head latched onto the only other number I had memorized.

I rattled off my mothers phone number.

“You’re going to hang up the phone, walk to the back dumpster with your cell phone in your left hand, and I’m going to call you. No one has to die tonight.”

I stood shaking with the phone pressed to my ear.

“Hang up.”

I hung up the phone. I was trembling, but I knew there was no windows in the kitchen. If I got to the kitchen I’d be safe, and that’s where he told me to go so I could make it there if I just held it together.

I made it to dry storage and met one of the assistant managers exiting. I broke down in sobs and started garbling in incoherent fear. He looked utterly flabbergasted by this, as I had the reputation of being the most level headed of the host staff.

He asked me to wait at the bar. He rushed off to try to finish what he was doing so he could deal with me. I was too scared to leave the kitchen hallway; I huddled as close the end of the bar as I could get without leaving the safety of the wall.

I was sobbing when the bartender looked over and saw me. She gasped in outrage and had me into the managers office in a blink, arms around me asking what was wrong, what was wrong.

I was finally in an enclosed room with a locking door. The gibbering in my head calmed to the point that I relayed the whole thing to the bartender. Near the end, the manager returned. He had my mother in tow.

She was furious, hearing the tail end of my death threat call. Apparently, while sitting in the parking lot she’d received the call I had been too scared to get.

The man had asked if she was me, and she was instantly combative. She didn’t tell him anything, just demanded to know, “Who’s This?” He hung up.

He’d called back once just saying my name and she’d angrily asserted, “No.” He hung up.

My mom was furious and confused and marched into the building. Part of her anger was that I’d given away her phone number. She’s a violently private person. My manager had been making sure the servers knew they didn’t have a host when my mom burst in on a mission of vengeance. He quickly escorted my rampaging mother to the back room and they were both in time to hear I’d received a death threat.

My mom rounded on my manager demanding to know why they hadn’t called the police and he pleaded that this was the first he was hearing about it. The police were called.

My mom and I waited in a booth while my nerves jangled with anxiety. No one had checked the cars outside for shooters and now I was sitting here exposed, surrounded by windows. She tried not to be mad about me giving her number given my emotional state, but she wasn’t thrilled with me.

A police office showed up an hour later. I answered her questions and my manager asked if I wanted anything. Everyone at the table looked astonished when I requested a root beer float. But by god, I wanted one.

The officer assured me that most events like this did not happen on site, that the caller wasn’t here. I didn’t believe the dowdy woman sitting across from me had even bothered to do a security sweep but I drank my float and tried to forget the darkness of the night staring in from all those windows. The clear line of sight on me from every side. The image of brain splattering against the glass divider. I drank more root beer.

I got a day off to calm down. On closing shifts after that my heart would pound when the phone rang and the bartenders all agreed to be on phone duty for me. A private investigator came in one day and I recited the whole event again. He’d been hired by the company as Red Robin’s nation wide had been targeted by the same caller.

The investigator told me he was working on it. That dozens of other businesses across the country had been called. He told me that if I’d given the caller my real number I would have been subjected to sexual assault over the phone.

I was starting to feel stupid. Everyone I told was so sure that he’d never even been present. That I’d never been in danger. The only thing I could console myself with was that many other girls had given him their number, but I hadn’t. I started forcing myself to pick the phone back up on closing shifts.

A few months later I was notified that he’d been arrested. The private investigator hired by a fast food restaurant had done what the police force hadn’t and tracked him down to a small town in the Midwest. My testimony was one of dozens used to convict him and for a while I received checks for 0.23 cents as reparations for the mental distress.

[pathologicalreid]

cryptic | S.R.

You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.

who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".

him

In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.

You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.

So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.

As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.

For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.

In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.

The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “

“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.

On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.

Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”

“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.

Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “

Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.

After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”

He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.

She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.

Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”

“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.

Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?

Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.

Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”

Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”

She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.

They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.

Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.

Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.

He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.

Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.

You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.

Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.

Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.

Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.

Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “

Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.

Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.

She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”

Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.

“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.

He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?

The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.

Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”

“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.

Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.

The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.

Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.

“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”

Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.

Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”

Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”

Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.

“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”

Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “

That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.

You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”

He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.

He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”

You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”

Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.

Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.

He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”

You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”

Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”

Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.

In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”

He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.

You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”

The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.

“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.

Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”

You grunted in protest, “but what- “

“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”

Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.

He loved the sound of that.

you

You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.

For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.

Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”

“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.

He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.

You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.

Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.

Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.

Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.

That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”

You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.

This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.

When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.

Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.

It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?

Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”

You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.

“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.

As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.

By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”

You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.

She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”

After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.

Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.

You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”

She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 

You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”

“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.

The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.

Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”

“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”

Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.

“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 

You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”

Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”

“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”

You snorted, “Of course you did.”

No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.

“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.

You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.

Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.

As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.

“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.

Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.

“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.

There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.

Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.

“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.

You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”

Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”

Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”

“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.

You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.

JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”

The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.

“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.

Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.

Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.

You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.

“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.

He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”

Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”

“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."

He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”

“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.

You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.

Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ your task was to keep an eye on the enigmatic salesman while gi-hun attempted to join the games again, but it turned out to be harder than expected as you end up falling in love with him

warnings_ age gap (not specified but legal) reader is implied to be American but not specified, sexual tension, reader is constantly bullying the salesman, ooc salesman, fluff?, angst?, violence, manipulation, stockholm syndrome???, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls

notes_ i can’t stop associating so bad from Jesse Jo Stark and IT girl from JADE with this man sorry. RECOMMEND SPECIFIC DRAMAS OR MOVIES WITH GONG YOO TO WRITE MORE FICS, I ALREADY PLACED HIM IN MY PHONECASE, MAKE THIS CRUSH WORTHY

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Lies can’t be considered to be completely bad. Sometimes you must avoid the truth to be safe, to protect… to seek. You left home with the excuse of a research project for your thesis. Truth is, you wanted to know what happened to your brother.

He graduated with a business degree and left for Chicago but after hearing nothing from him two months later, your parents went to the police.

None could be done. He was simply gone.

But you didn’t believe that. There was more, there had to…

With luck, you discovered your brother left Chicago two days after his arrival, and then boarded a plane with a route to Seoul. With almost zero comprehension of why he would leave the country, hell, the damn continent! It resulted astonishing to you.

It was so great you needed to get answers that you ventured into the unknown. You didn’t know how to speak Korean, you didn’t know much about the country you landed eight months ago.

And you didn’t believe a hundred percent about faith or destiny. But your first clues to your missing brother lead to a man who looked at a card in his hands while he flipped it continuously.

That was Seong Gi-hun. A man who had lost everything and then won but didn’t feel like that afterward.

For some weeks, you couldn’t process the fact that your brother was dead. He had joined some games deathly games that were worth it for many since you could leave as a wealthy winner.

Even more senseless because perhaps your family wasn’t rich, but your brother couldn’t have anything else than student debts and that was something that most adults could deal with.

It all led to drowning in sorrows and thinking your efforts to find him were in vain. The year your brother played the games was 2022 and the winner wasn’t him.

Gi-hun didn’t give up on you. He took care of you when he didn’t have to. Later told you about his plans and suggested you join him.

For your brother.

It was for his memory that you agreed to learn how to wield and use a gun. For his memory, you decided to stay and overcome the people behind those hideous games.

Leading you to become a ghost. Working as a teacher’s assistant until the plan was coming closer and you had to quit. Living in a rented apartment until you had to move out to a little house Gi-hun bought under a pseudonym for you to use while he was inside the games. He assured you could take all you needed from the money he had. Although you didn’t like to do so, you had to because you no longer had a job.

And for a long time, you had to be at the subway station looking for an apparent handsome, tall businessman who offered to play Ddakji and slapped people when they lost. Nobody had seen the salesman yet.

You avoided judging beauty but you hadn’t seen anyone who you considered to be handsome, and no man was slapping people.

Between lifting weights, practicing core strength, having no job and searching for a businessman who bullied random people, you had found a routine.

A lonely routine. You held some camaraderie with the men who also looked for the salesman, but you hadn’t found a real friend other than Gi-hun.

It was late when you were told they had found the salesman. Rain poured and you were at a restaurant having dinner. With hurried feet you took a cab that left you at the door of the solitary pink motel, never noticing certain cops looking from the other side of the street.

When you opened the door, you heard voices and secluded cries. You pulled out your gun and carefully walked towards the pleading sounds.

In a room, there lays a tied man, pleading for freedom. You know him; it’s Choi Woo-Seok.

His eyes are teary, he’s beaten and shakes desperately. You only let him know with his hands to quiet down and to calm down.

Both of your hands are on the trigger. You slowly walk back towards the entrance, where the voices can still be heard. You identify Gi-hun as there. So you try to be more careful, even when the music playing disturbs you.

The darkness of the room makes it easier for you to disguise. That’s when you can see the men sitting in the middle of the room.

They’re playing the Russian roulette and it makes you frown from cringe and panic.

It wasn’t hard to understand that the man facing Gi-hun was none other than the salesman.

He was indeed handsome. He looked like a clean and neat businessman, and the way he arrogantly spoke and held his gun said a lot about him. He was insane.

The only thing you can care about is to prevent death. Your hand doesn’t shake, fingers confidently on the trigger, waiting for the right moment while your free hand sneaks inside the pocket of your coat, pulling another loaded gun.

When the salesman raises the gun, pointing at the ceiling and he is busy talking, you pull the trigger.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise.

Gi-hun suddenly looks relieved, while the salesman stares at you so deeply that it makes you nervous for a second.

But your reflexes were fast enough to see that he was about to move, so you pointed at him with the other gun, shooting at him with a potent sedative right in his shoulder.

“Where did you get that?” Gi-hun asked you. “A month ago, in the kitchen of the Chinese lady’s restaurant around the block”

“Thank you” You nod at him, seeing how he went straight untie the man in the other room.

You look back at the salesman, who is unconscious on the couch. Slowly, you walk towards him. Almost nervous that he would move, jump out and kill you, but it’s impossible.

Your hands start wandering around his neck, taunting his skin and fabric covering it to see if he possesses a microphone or camera that would put everyone in danger.

At the same time, a cop arrives, accusing you and Gi-hun of killing the salesman.

Everything changed in the span of a night.

…

He woke up to the smell of alcohol. His eyes could barely focus but he knew his head was in the lap of a woman. He knew he was in handcuffs and his feet were tied up.

Between faded memories, he remembered your face and hands pointing a gun at him.

When he tried to focus his view again, he realized you had stood up, he saw your blurred silhouette glancing around the room until he felt more oriented. He could hear you talking in English, often mixing words in Korean with bad pronunciation. Something about a doctor and ordering Mexican food for takeout.

Pretty woman, he thought. From your sophisticated and unusual pick of heels, your dress and coat, your earrings, hair, and shade of lipstick. You truly were a sight.

Once you hang up, you turnto see him seemingly awake.

“Gi-hun! The freak is awake!” you yell, making him frown.

Freak? He has been an honest gentleman with you.

“Your Korean is not good” his voice sounds raspy and he can barely sit straight with his extremities tied up.

“Neither is your English” he chuckles briefly.

Choi Woo-Seok appears at the door and looks scared at the salesman, who barely eyes him, still focused on you.

“Gi-hun left with Jun-ho to speak properly” You roll your eyes, nodding.

“Alright. I ordered food for everyone, the dentist is coming to check Gi-hun and this man over here. Keep an eye on that, please” he nods, closing the door and leaving you alone with the salesman again.

“I guess I’ll have to do it myself” you basically whisper to yourself.

“A doctor?” Ignoring the man, you step almost between his legs and you sense he got taken aback by the proximity.

“Take off your clothes” his eyes opened a little more and you almost laughed.

“Excuse me?” one of his brows looked slightly arched, half playfully and half taken aback.

“Take off your clothes, sir” you repeated, trying to sound calm.

“I’m afraid I’m handcuffed and tied from my ankles, miss” he shows you his hands and oddly moves his free fingers.

“Hmm, too bad. I will then…”

You only made him look like a mess. But you found a tiny camera and microphone well hidden in his blazer.

Your hands never trembled over his skin. And unbeknownst to you, he was on fire. You even cleaned the blood on his face and he discovered how soft your hands were.

Once you crushed the camera and microphone, you took a seat in the same place Gi-hun was an hour ago, facing the salesman.

“Two years ago you handed a card to a man. He was non-native, had green eyes, ebony hair, tall like you, and was very friendly” you start, feeling a pang in your chest while describing your brother.

Meanwhile, the man thought back on the hundreds of people he had tricked. It was easier since less than 8% of the players were non-Koreans.

“Ah, yes, I remember him. Very expressive and handsome. You people from the occidental are very extroverted” he said with a cheeky smile and you almost rolled your eyes. “That was your brother, I’m assuming”

“He was, and yes; While you only made an offer and he accepted, you didn’t tell him his life was at stake” The way he looked at you with arrogance made your blood boil.

“Ma’am, the games are made for the mere reason of helping people. It is just one lucky individual who takes the prize”

“Bullshit. It is entertainment for the rich and a purge of innocent people you and your shitty folks believe are useless. I come from the epitome of capitalism, don’t fool me” he stares too much at you. In his head, he wondered why you got so invested in the whole situation. You seemed young, smart, pretty even. Why were you wasting your mundane life trying to be a hero?

“You and Gi-hun are not saviors, miss. Him trying to contact my boss is useless. You keeping me here, is pointless. The games will go on and my superiors will succeed, while you will watch and hate that your attempts to stop it were worthless” he says.

You huff tired, walking back and forth in the little motel room.

“Good lord, Why are you so obsessed with protecting an organization that will likely replace you the moment your heart stops beating?” He tilts his head, with his hands in cold handcuffs under the table and a little smirk. He almost looks adorable.

“I know where you come from. I know you have never experienced the extreme lack of money. I was doing my research when my superior; The Frontman, found a foreign woman working with Mister Gi-hun” In his words, you try to hide the fear. Of these people hurting your family. Of them knowing more than they should about your plans with Gi-hun and Jun-ho. “Don’t be fearful, ma’am. We have no business with people outside of Korea. But you shouldn’t be digging along those filthy scums. Now you’re also part of this”

The silence makes him feel like he won. His smile is pretty, but he was a fucking asshole.

“And for what miss y/n? For your brother? Who proved to be desperate and needy like everybody else. A man who died and nobody came for him…” he leaned, showing you his cuffed hands and mocking you with every bashful word he spitted out.

Your eyes get teary. You sigh, nodding and looking away. The salesman stared at you with ease, believing he had won once again.

But you take him by surprise when the heel of your boot kicks his ribs and sends him to the floor.

You quickly grab your gun and kneel beside him. The barrel of the gun traces his temple and cheekbone slowly as you lean to his ear.

“You are a man and I’m a woman who are simple mortals. Quit with the arrogance and start speaking the truth” you spit out with feigned sweetness. Your knee brushes his lips and he only looks at you defenseless, but soon goes back to smile. “Why don’t you try to be a good boy for me, sir…”

“You waste your time, dolly,” he says in Korean and makes you frown.

“Fuck you” you spit at him, literally. You couldn’t care less if you weren’t acting decent. The salesman could go to hell. You just grew more eager for Gi-hun and Jun-ho to accomplish the mission.

…

The door was softly closed even when your ears were ringing in anger. Gi-hun and Jun-ho were standing, expecting you.

“Did he say anything?” you sighed, shaking your head. “He’s a fucking asshole”

“We can’t give up. The plan must keep going but now that we have him, he could give us details” You nod at the young ex-cop. Gi-hun only huffed but ended up agreeing as well.

“The only way to keep him steady is if you stay with him” Your heart almost stops as you look at Jun-ho feeling mortified.

“Me?” He nods, crossing his arms.

“Either way is dangerous for y/n. She’s definitely not coming with me to the games, she shouldn’t go searching the island, and staying alone with that sociopath will not calm me while I’m gone” The worry in Gi-hun made you smile a little, he really cared about you and it made you feel like everything was worth it.

For him, your brother and anyone who had joined or planned to join the games.

“I will stay with him. We would be pretty much isolated and if we stay together 24/7, I shall be fine”

“You will be protected, you have my word,” Jun-ho says softly.

“I won’t be able to see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, use any of the money, and do not give up on making the salesman speak” The tone the older man uses makes you feel a little teary, it’s a goodbye. “Jun-ho and Woo-Seok will keep you safe. And if anything happens to me, take all the money and go back home”

You frown, continuously shaking your head.

“Gi-hun, I wouldn’t be able to leave if something happened to you. I would stay until I knew what happened” he smiled, giving you a quick hug before he got his jacket.

“Keep your eyes open, kid” you nod, wishing him farewell.

The room fell into silence. And it was only you and the salesman in the other room.

…

If anyone walked into the house in one of the most humble districts, they would believe it was a social experiment. A man tied up from the hands and toes has to follow a woman like a lost puppy each day.

From having breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, him being blindfolded while you took a shower and you playing games on your iPad while he took one too.

The silence was the excruciating part. He barely talked and when you tried to pry about him, it likely ended up with you furiously pulling his hair and leaving the room made a mess.

“I could be useful, ma’am,” he said, sitting straight at the table. “The least I can do in lockdown is to help you with banalities”

Out of his suit-tailored suit, he almost made you think about the word ‘domestic’. He was wearing a grey hoodie, black sweatpants, and white socks.

“The only thing I’m asking you to help me with, you cannot provide” you reply, serving him a cup of coffee.

“I don’t drink coffee” he politely declines de cup, and you roll your eyes.

“Really? You look like someone who needs a lot of caffeine” The playful tone came out of nowhere and it made you bite your tongue.

“And I wouldn’t take you as an addict for it” It’s the first time both of you actually speak and it’s odd. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Yeah, I like it very toasted with just a smidge of almond creamer” You hear him chuckle and it makes you smile. But you remember the reason why you are there.

You aren’t there to talk about coffee.

“So… How long had you been doing… your job” one of his hands was cuffed to the chair beside him, and with the free one, he was able to eat.

“Some years, five, maybe seven. But I’ve been in the organization for longer” You almost dropped your fork, surprised to hear he was actually answering.

You wouldn’t push it too far.

“Are the games really that terrible like Gi-hun said?” The man tilts his head.

Perhaps he was getting dementia and he was forgetting you had him captive in a random house. But he was willing to answer.

“They are. But that’s what they sign up for…”

“No. That’s how you and your peers have shaped the games” he makes a feigned pot, cleaning the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “We’ve already talked about this…”

“Listen asshole, I just need you to tell me where the fuck is that damn island” It’s obvious you were getting exasperated and he was enjoying it.

Wearing a sundress and sandals, messy hair, and barely traces of makeup, you looked lovely to his eyes. Almost impossible to imagine you could get angry so easily.

“If your friends were smarter, perhaps they would have already figured it out”

“You really rather die than accept you’re just their dog. Just a messenger who will be replaced once they notice you have mysteriously disappeared…”

Now was his turn to get angry. You could see the way he was tense.

“Not very different than you, ma’am. You were left behind to keep an eye on me. Just a little ragdoll to use”

You slap him so hard that even some birds peeking in the window fly away at the sound. The red tonality starts spreading across his pale cheek.

“Do it again” he blurts out and it boils your blood. He must’ve felt hard by your harsh action but you were enraged.

So you did again, harder this time.

His expression was indescribable. He seemed pleased and you hated it.

“Fuck you!” You yell exasperated by him.

“I told you once, this is pointless” You harshly grab his jaw and make him look up at your eyes. He has a playful smile and some of his hair falls scattered across his forehead.

“I will make you spit out every dirty little secret of yours. Even if it takes longer than needed”

He leans even closer and you literally feel his dry lips against yours but it doesn’t make you flicker.

No matter how wet the whole situation is making you feel.

“Why so quiet, doll?” he asks, grabbing your hip and moving his hand dangerously back and forward towards your ass.

“What a shame you are not complying. If you did, you’d had me begging for you to fuck me hard”

He gulped shocked, you won.

Your free hair, the view of your cleavage, the proximity to your lips, and the words that spilled out of your mouth were driving him crazy.

“You’d love it, right? I can tell no one has fucked you good enough. That’s the real shame, sweetheart” You want to ignore the way you feel you are throbbing, as well as the sight of his tightening pants. “No need, I can get wild by myself”

“Really? You like to get messy in the sheets?” You nod, feeling bold and sassy, gently touching his inner thighs and abandoning the touch once you’re inches away from feeling his hard cock.

“Yes, sir. I love watching my own reflection, gasping and moaning while my fingers slip in and out of my cunt and I feel so close to squirting”

“Fuck…” he curses in Korean a trail of words, which makes you smile as you leave.

…

The salesman was once very poor, he was a guard in the games, became head of them, and then jumped to be the recruiter.

He killed his father and became the most isolated man to protect his and the organization’s identity.

At least that’s what he revealed when you forced him to get drunk. You also got drunk to set it equal but both of you remembered everything. The salesman even earned the right to be out of the handcuffs. Which resulted odd to you, because he hadn’t tried anything to kill you or escape.

It also made you wonder if he was feeling weird things like you.

Sat on the balcony at midnight during a sudden heat wave, watching the skyline of Seoul at a fair distance, it almost felt like a simulation. Where he wasn’t your captive, he was a good man and both of you were having a date. As ridiculous as it sounded.

“Okay. I get you’ve had enough in life, but don’t you want to actually live? To wander and experience tranquility. You’re getting old and time will pass” you unexpectedly said, even taking yourself aback.

“I chose this life some time ago. It’s what I get…” you wanted to take his hands and tell him he had a chance.

But he was just the salesman.

“I would like to beg you to think twice. To question yourself if you want to die as their… dog, or start living. But you won’t listen, you are missing the warmth of life… and love”

You didn’t mean to say all that. But you were also drunk. And that’s what you honestly thought about him.

And that was two days ago.

The most important phone in the house rang. And you literally jumped out of the bathtub to pick up the call.

In a drenched dress that was supposed to be your outfit of the day and hair tangled up in a towel, you get towards the phone, ignoring the salesman seated steps away.

“Hello?…” you are greeted by a distorted voice but soon you know it’s Jun-ho.

“…y/n!… Hope you’re alright, Have you found out anything?” You sigh, already answering the man.

“No. Tiny details of the man but nothing that would actually lead to the island” you almost whisper, hoping the salesman won’t hear you.

“Not much luck here either. A storm will impact tonight. And we lost contact with Gi-hun”

“WHAT?” You nearly scream, the salesman looks up at you with curiosity and you continued the call, opting to whisper if needed. “Yes, the microphone is gone”

“For fuck’s sake…”

“If nothing can be done. We will return tonight, but I have high hopes” he says.

“I’m hopeful too. I will try again with the salesman, Jun-ho” The call was getting harder to understand, you could barely hear the man on the other side. You only hear one thing.

“If needed, kill him, y/n” he hangs up and it leaves you made a mess.

You look back, finding him charming while trying to flip the page of a crossword book.

You couldn’t kill the salesman.

Developing feelings for the man who tricked your brother into joining the games, was almost insane.

You sobbed without care sitting on the couch facing the bed, feeling like you were dancing on your brother’s grave. Like you were failing Gi-hun, Jun-ho, and all the crew. Your friends…

But your salesman was interesting, every conversation with him made you forget about everything as simple as it could be. You liked his big hands and his silly smile whenever you tried to outsmart him.

You are so screwed.

He stared at you sobbing with your hands covering your face. And something made him feel sorry. He hadn’t realized that spending a week with you made him remember a lot of things about humanity.

He knew you were stressed out and scared of losing your friends. He never had friends or girlfriends to rely on, because he thought he didn’t need them. He was better off alone, feeling powerful and condescending for finally being on the other side of the coin.

But what was life without love?

“Let’s play a game,” he says.

“Not in the mood for your bullshit” when you turn to look at him, he is pointing at the open balcony and the view of the city.

“We’ll play mimic. I will tell you the location of the island and you only have three guesses” You roll your eyes. “You can say random shit to confuse us”

“You have my word. This is your only chance…”

“And if you win?” He shrugs. “We can talk about that later”

He would make sure you won.

“Three guesses…” You nod at him, noticing he wasn’t being playful and cocky as usual. He was calm and almost looked innocent.

Slowly, he points at the painting above his head; it’s the sea.

“In the sea, yes, we know the island is on the sea, genius” he smiles, then points at the painting again. This time, his fingers trail downwards, trying to reach one of the edges; to your left.

His hair hadn’t grown in the slightest, but out of his suit, with ordinary clothes and no way to tame his hair, your salesman looked divine. With an adorable expression, hoping to make you understand.

You loved him.

“You are not paying attention” you huff in annoyance.

He trails his fingers down the painting and then points at the decoration of candles at the little table between you two.

His fingers touch each candle, making you follow the pattern of a simulated bridge.

“Dammit, Couldn’t you be less specific? I don’t understand shit…” he sighs, shifting on his seat.

“One more guess…” you’re not sure if you believe him. He could either keep making lies to shift your attention somewhere else. And you didn’t have the heart to call Jun-ho with uncertain hopes.

The salesman points at the painting one last time and you pay real attention. He had big hands and long fingers, fitting a pianist. They move downwards above the sea of dried oil paint. Then, he points at the skyline of the city and finally trails the candles forming a bridge.

Inthe sea, left, south, bridge and the city.

Your eyes snap open.

In the sea, towards left and south, with a bridge that connects to the city.

“THE ISLAND IS LOCATED SOUTHWEST, ALIGNED WITH THE PIER OF THE CITY!” you scream in happiness and the salesman nods in silence, you cheer, typing the message and sending it to Jun-ho “OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU”

You were about to hug him, but you stopped. Quickly, you stand up but you feel his hand pull you down again.

“Say it again…” his voice sounded deep and it made you feel even more embarrassed after all.

“I’m sorry. I hate to admit it, but I’m human. We’ve spent so much time together that…” Feeling completely helpless and embarrassed you look away. But his touch is there again, caressing your thigh. This time his touch is delicate, unlike the first days where he would seek control and indulge pain even in the slightest.

“I feel things too” he admits, shocking you.

“You feel things?”

“By telling you where the island is, your friends can succeed and with luck, everything will be over. You’ll have avenged your brother and helped future people who could’ve died in the games. The government would step in and I would be charged, you’ll likely get deported or fined even when you did the right thing” You let him speak and trace random patterns in the skin of your thigh because it felt right. “I am no good and I shouldn’t say anything else, but if you’d have me… I would gladly run away with you”

Your heart makes your cheeks bloom a beautiful color of blush. It was wrong, not part of the plan, out of your mind. But it felt right, an inevitable consequence.

You literally jump to kiss him. And in an amazing turn of events, the salesman transformed into the most submissive man.

His hands were almost trembling while they held you.

He couldn’t believe it. All the efforts he put into being loyal to the island that gave him the chance to become someone, were over the floors. All he knows is that when he looked at your bright eyes, he wanted it to be his sight forever. Your company matches him perfectly, you are the type of woman he didn’t know he craved.

“We might need to go to therapy and this is a terrible idea but I’ll pretend you’re worth it,” you say in his lips, biting his lower lip gently.

He smiles. Unsure if he’s making the right decision but confident that he’s choosing the right partner. The salesman believes he doesn’t deserve a second option. He hated himself for a variety of reasons. But he couldn’t comprehend the way you made him feel. It was his obsessive nature what had been completely shattered by your arrival. Transforming into something else, unknown and prone to make him addicted.

He hated vulnerability, but he was welcoming it with open arms for you.

“I don’t want to ever let you go”

“Don’t you dare, darling” you say, moving to straddle him and kiss him a little more.

___________

SALESMAN X READER X FRONTMAN FIC NEXT AND IT’S WEIRD AND MESSY AND A DISAPPOINTMENT, STAY TUNED

[willowed-wisp]

apocalypse sex [ könig ]

You are in Austria when the zombie apocalypse strikes- you and a pretty blue eyed stranger called König aim to survive together

You didn’t remember how it went down, that crashed feeling piling onto you was all that could be mustered… the excruciating pain which followed.

Left in the street to die. But you weren’t dead, if only in the days to come. The early days of the apocalypse.

Glad to be in a bed, better than the cobblestone streets you’d been dumped on. Vague snippets filtered through, light eyes furrowed with unneeded worry- arms easily cradling you. That’s when slumber betrayed you. Probably whose bed you found yourself in.

Incoherent words spilled from a masculine voice, surprisingly gentle in your ears. Yet, you couldn’t understand what the man was saying, “I don’t understand, I’m sorry…”

“I said, I’m glad you’re awake… you weren’t well.” Not feeling ‘well’ either, but able to move. Though when you did, a hand rested on your shoulder and you met his face… the same kind eyes in your hazed dream. Something so young about a face that had seen too many atrocities. “Why would someone harm British national?” He must have seen your ID, you couldn’t blame him.

You laughed the nerves away, “I was speaking to the wrong guy, apparently…” The man didn’t laugh, not even cracking a smile. You wondered if he actually could look anything but worried on the verge of tears. “I’ll be on my way… I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Everywhere ached but you’d had worse, a police officer by trade in London. That’s why when this mountain of a man blocked your way, you reached for the imaginary gun you had been specially trained to you in unforeseen situations.

“It’s not safe out there,”

“To me, it doesn’t feel safe in here…” That’s only when you noticed the static on the television huddled in the corner. Strange… you were in Vienna, there must have been service. That doomed look on his face told you as much, “How long was I asleep for?”

“A day…”

“And what’s happened in that day?” Peeking out the window, fire consumed some of the city while trash scattered the streets. Ignoring the people walking. “Rioting?”

He shook his head, “A weapon was released… infecting anyone by the bloodstream.” It clicked.

“Zombies?” You sounded much too nonchalant… that’s why you were in Vienna, investigating reports for HQ. You unfortunately rubbed people up the wrong way in Austria. “Fuck… we need to get moving…” He watched you walk across the room, out to the living area of his apartment. It was bare, lifeless as if he was never there on the frequent. “I never asked your name. I’m Y/N.”

You sat on the sofa while he loomed, “They call me ‘König’,”

“Who’s they? You’re friends?”

He looked out of the window. Hung up on one detail. “You’re taking this zombie problem too well, officer…” He was too observant for his own good.

“Who are you, ‘King’?” You were smarter than you looked… he admired that in an adversary.

Something in his eyes toyed with you, a buzz of some kind. “I’m your friend, we’re going to need each other to survive out there…”

That you agreed on.

You laughed in his face, “You really want to finish unsigned paperwork now?”

“I need to get to my work… they have things we’re going to need.”

When you arrived, it was burned to the ground. “König, we need to go.” It had all moved so fast, those first weeks. Luckily both of you able to handle yourselves, what you really needed to were guns… to no avail.

König drove most of the time, the only time he looked at peace. You hadn’t really spoke much, always having your eyes wide open for potential threats. But in the countryside, where very little people inhabited- you could exhale properly for the first time.

Especially when you found a possible refuge. Passing by a lake- you saw an island out in the clear waters and on the tuft of green in the turquoise glimmer, you spotted a cabin. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“A decent nights sleep?” It didn’t take long to find a rowing boat on the dock your side of the lake. Both equally doing your work, loading up any supplies you had acquired on the way. Tinned food, bottles onto of bottle of water. Luckily König was a big guy… and you couldn’t stop watching him in that previous week.

He had saved your life with an axe in the grocery store, it seemed to be his preferred weapon choice. Ever since, you couldn’t stop the wondering.

The settlement looked like a holiday outlet, it was out of the way of civilisation and had its own livestock on the stretch of island behind your viewpoint on ‘mainland’. Cows, chickens… it was there. Luckily you watched your farming programmes…

König did the security sweep of the two story property himself, deeming it clear. “Still has electricity…” He marvelled.

“There’s a wind turbine out back and solar panels on the roof… these guys were ready for an apocalypse…” Head up looking at the haven you had uncovered, not paying mind… crashing into the body beside you. His hands held the back of your head and your the base of your back. In an ode to keep you upright.

He made you feel incredibly small, “Gotta be careful, kleine dame…” You almost blushed at his handsome smile, eyes shining down on you.

That night you sat by the fire, in the cozy cabin. Having eaten soup beforehand… life couldn’t be too bad like that. Huddled under a blanket, too preoccupied staring at the warm lit visage of the man who had saved your life more than once. Before he peered back in you, a lopsided grin on his lips

“Doors locked?” You asked before heading to bed… a nice comfortable bed instead of the inside of that crappy Peugeot you’d picked up along the way.

He hummed a ‘yes’ to you. All power off, all windows boarded up. “The people who lived here had an eye for security systems…” How he knew the code was beyond you but you’re pretty sure he said he’d grown up nearby and fished the lake with his grandfather. You shrugged it off.

Going downstairs you noticed the pictures hanging up, on the second floor landing. A remarkably tall boy stood with his grandparents- catching his first fish… this was König’s place…

You stepped to the room he’d settled in for the night, only to find him dripping wet from a shower. Only in a towel hung around his hips, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked!” Before darting out of the room… too focused on the rippled flesh of his abdomen rather than the colours of the walls. You checked on the livestock, naming each of them in your head. Getting mixed around every time they moved.

A hand grazed your hip for a split second, “This was your grandparent’s cabin, wasn’t it?” He gave a nod. “And you’re the guy with good tastes in security systems?”

He seemed trapped in his own thoughts, “I knew it was safe here, we’d have everything we needed… and yeah I’m the security guy-,” You didn’t care, hands placed on his scarred forearms- craning your neck up, kissing König. Just a small token of your growing affection. He tasted like sea salt and smelled like ginger and sandalwood. “Damn, you beat me to it…”

A hand pressed against what felt like rock but was in fact his chest, “We’ve got many more of those to come…” Not helping the purr in your voice, sultry to a fault. All completely intentional.

Though, something told you he’d have trouble initiating anything.

You were truly mistaken.

That night, nails dug as fingers wrenched in his growing out dirty blonde hair. Tongue riveted along your folds, watching him work before he flicked the sweet spots you didn’t even know existed. That had your head against the dining table, toes curling on the edge. Fingers added, corkscrewing in and out of your wet pussy had you whimpering. Only able to get part of his name out.

His hands wrapped around your ankles, propping onto his shoulders. Bending your legs so your knees were at your waist, mouth invading deeper. Kissing and marking his territory, careless moans thrown into the void. Curses tossed out, fingers teasing your bud while he devoured.

Tasting yourself on his lips, fucked out already, “This isn’t over, prächtig.” Draping your legs around his hips, holding your ass as his carried you to the bedroom you’d found him half naked.

Walls a dark grey and military decor splattered here and there. Fingers at your chin, kisses twining the two of you. A shared effort to get the t-shirt over those broad shoulders. Hot, bare flesh under your fingertips. Muttering a swear, open-mouthed adoration consuming you. Tracing along rough and ready skin, he keened away, “Sensitive? How ‘bout here?” A palm at his denim, you witnessed König melt. Caging you in under him, never breaking contact.

Thick fingers teased- delving at a slow pace - curling at that sensitive patch inside. Breathless gasps coming from you in ebbs and flows, “Be loud, schatz…”

“Still so shy, even after making me come on your tongue…” Caressing his soft cheek, eye contact broken. Clenched down only for him to pick up the slack- feeling yourself gush with a wail. Grasp on his forearm tightening, your face pitifully scrunched up. Mouth carved to an ‘o’.

König’s warmth gone as he stood, tall and domineering. Unbuckling his belt, though you could see the outline in the blue fabric before. White underwear, black elastic at the top. Subdued but in tune to your surroundings, your eyes wide. His height corresponding at the thick, lengthy outline. Scarred hand giving it a rub, looking down at the mess in between your legs… the pool on the already dark covers. “Fucking hell…” It slapped across the trail of dark hair down the lower half of his stomach. V-line encasing the well defined cock in front of you.

How was it ever going to get inside you? You hadn’t had sex in a while, and this was the thing that would prize you open. You salivated thinking about it. His weight dipped against yours, seating between your legs. “Don’t look so scared, Y/N,” A thumb against your bottom lip, claiming both once again. Laying you down, the same thumb rubbing your face. “I’m going to go slow…” Resting on his knees, you couldn’t help but touch the thickness. He huffed so sweet at whatever touch you gave him.

Lifting your hips up with one of the pillows, legs stretched to fit his hips. Cold air hitting your bare parts, his legs filled the chill. You didn’t look, as his tip sank in. A sharpness turned into pleasure as the rest of him burrowed inside of you. Hands stapled to his neck- look at every twitch in König’s features. A loud groan from him, “Scheiße…” All that more attracted to him from that angle, incoherently in a void between dizziness and suffocation. Fleshy walls swollen around his girth. “I don’t think I can control myself, schatz…”

Your mind delirious and vision like a kaleidoscope, “Give it to me…”

König struggled to move, which made his movements more erratic. Hands everywhere on him, maiming him any time he bucked. Movements not rough but pent up.

Wriggling too much, his hands clamped down on your raised hips while ploughing you. Lifting your ass off the bed, fucking into you. Slaps of skin and strained choruses of teeth gritted screams was all that could be heard. Discomfort outmatched by carnal tears… He knew when you came- each time you did. Pulsing around him, almost pushing him out. That’s why he ground so deeply. And that’s when he’s name came out in a squeal.

Before his body buckled, hilted in you. Holding your wrists down, all while you milked him dry. So right, so soft… all his from now on. This giant of a man inside of you.

What a way to spend the zombie apocalypse…

————

Thanks for reading :)

————

masterlist

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver Chapter One

masterpost

Four hours passed with no news or contact: it was time to see what had happened to his date. Danny sighed and tried to be philosophical about it. “Starting shit with Gotham PD and Batman is sort of a step up from fighting with the US government,” he told himself. “That’s just one city and one guy.” He jammed his feet into sneakers, grimly determined to find Jay. “And I’m a sneaky dude,” he pumped himself up. “They might never know I exist!”

At least Batman didn’t kill guys, so Danny didn’t have to check the morgue. Not like that would get Jay out of a date! He had kissed the back of Danny’s hand. They absolutely had to meet up again.

So, yeah. He had to find the bastard. Presumably Batman had arrested him. He was going to give Jay shit for that.

His first tactic paid off: there was clearly a ton of stuff going on at the main police headquarters, including a prison transport van with a frankly ludicrous amount of armed guards on it. Danny squinted at it. “...Alla that, for Jason?” He cocked his head to the side. “Am I impressed, or…” He screwed his face up into a frown. He didn’t know how else to feel about it. Impressed it was.

He was actually sort of grateful for his timing. Danny hunkered down and avoided being sighted by any cops or Batman. The prison van took off, escorted by a convoy of four flashing police cars. Danny felt his eyebrows crawl up his face.

What the fuck, Jay. What did you do, Jay. This sucks, Jay.

There wasn’t any rush to follow it, given that it had the name of the prison written on it. Danny googled “arhham”, “arhham prison,” and learned that he had misread it and that also, it was not a prison. 

“They need to invest in a graphic designer,” Danny kvetched. He went back to the car that Jay had said he could use. He continued not thinking about the registration and how it was probably stolen or something. “H and K don’t have to look alike. We could live in a better world.” He turned the engine on aggressively and smacked the wheel for emphasis. He put on directions to the asylum and some top 40s pop music channel. Charli XXL burst into the night air cheerfully.

He hit the gas. 

He drove too fast. He would admit it. Danny indulged a bit on the way to the militarized treatment facility. It soothed his nerves to hook sharp corners and drift a bit, to go intangible and invisible for a couple of blocks to subtly blast though a red light at 120 mph. 

“Cool,” Danny muttered. He dropped the invisibility and watched a driver startle. He snickered as he passed them on the left. Maybe it was a little mean, but it was harmless and frankly, it was important ghostly enrichment to give a little spook now and then. Speaking of which, he let blinding rings of light travel up and down his body to switch to Phantom. Danny Fenton definitely couldn’t get caught breaking into a building.

Arkham was extremely inconvenient. He left his car in the employee parking lot and floated around until he found the loading bay where the police transport van was currently unloading one dumbass.

Ugh. The shit he put up with. Danny groused to himself and bobbed in the air outside the building as he waited, watching through windows. Mist welled up in his lungs as he got close. Danny felt himself wake up, looking out for danger. Figures that a place like this was haunted. 

They wheeled a stretcher into a cell. Danny kicked his feet and waited. People went in and out. Then the stretcher came out, empty. Everyone but Jay left.

He waited a while longer before slipping down the hallway and into the cell. He ghosted directly through the door to avoid any issues with locks or alarms and then stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oh,” Danny said, openly disappointed.

“Who is this?” purred the stranger. He had a weird habit of holding his eyes just a little too open. Looked like they were getting dry and itchy, they were red. To be fair, maybe they were irritated by the makeup the guy had on.

“Nothing, sorry for barging in,” Danny sighed. He raked his hand through his hair. “Sorry to bother you, dude.” He indicated the whole set up going on with a straightjacket and a chair with leather straps. “Seems like you are already busy. I thought you were my date.”

“I could be.” 

Danny laughed. Then he blinked. “Oh, you’re serious. Sorry, you’re too old for me.” Now that he was really paying attention to the guy, there was something wrong about him. Not just the eye thing— something about the way he moved registered him as a possible threat. He wasn’t a ghost. Right? There was something about him that was familiar… 

“Oh, I don’t suppose you were looking for Batsy.” The stranger came off weirdly coy. “No, no, he’s old too, to a whippersnapper like you. Oh.” He sounded delighted. “I know! I know!” He burst out into laughter.

“Uh…” Danny tried not to let how weirded out he was onto his face. “You alright, my guy?” 

“Joker,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’m not your guy, boyo. Why, if my hands were free I would teach you some respect for your elders. Take you over my knee for a spanking like I gave your pretty boy date!” He laughed again, pitch getting higher and higher with each ha, ha, ha.

“...I don’t think you could do that.” Danny snorted. His hackles were up. He inserted a little more disdain into his tone. Man, what a creep. “He’s twice your size.” He started trying to rationalize this bizarro conversation away.

‘He’s probably lying, right? Or imagining things. He’s in that restraint for a reason. On the other hand… he’s probably genuinely dangerous to the average human. He wouldn’t be locked up like this if he wasn’t violent.’

“Oh, he grew up big,” Joker agreed. “Which is a shocker, after the spanking I gave him when he was this high!” He jerked as if he was trying to indicate a height with an arm. He was still bound. It could have been funny, but something was starting to read as seriously malicious.

“...Are you seriously telling me right now that you predated on my date when he was a kid?” Danny asked. It… Well, fuck, it was motivation for Jay to do something that involved this guy and Batman. Danny didn’t know Jay that well, but he could identify a motherfucker who liked tragic irony at a dozen paces.

‘I think this might be real. And I’m not imagining this: I think this motherfucker is in my jurisdiction. I don’t know what he is, but he is undeathly as hell.’

Joker blew a raspberry. “Poor dead little Jason Wayne,” he crooned. The hairs stood up on the back of Danny’s neck. He didn’t know that last name, but the first one matched. “All he wants is Daddy to love him, you know?” The sugary tone he used was outright gross. “If Daddy Bats really cared, surely he’d get rid of the things that go bump in the night!” He let his expression drop, blank. Then slowly a rictus smile spread over his face. “But he won’t.”

“...Right.” Danny stared. “And you don’t know where he went, right?” He checked.

‘He’s a creep for sure. I don’t like him being this close to Jason. Why was he out today? And why is he on full name terms before me? I don’t think Jason like, told him that personal information.’

Joker giggled. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know what hole he crawled into”, he crooned. “But when I get out of here again- and I will, I always do!— I’ll be sure to toss a nice little grenade into it.”

“Huh.” Danny frowned. Not very helpful. But the bragging that he always got out…. It didn’t sit well with him. And no wonder. If Joker was some flavor of undead, a regular human facility might never be able to hold him long term. 

After a moment’s deliberation Danny dug his phone out of his pocket and turned away for some privacy.

“Excuse me?” said the Joker.

Danny did the ‘quiet’ gesture with a finger to his lips. “Shh.” He hit two on his speed dial and kicked his toes against the floor as he waited for the call to connect.

“Hi, sweetie!” Mom gushed as soon as sound came across. “How are you, everything ok?”

“Yeah, hi Mom.” Danny went up onto his toes and bounced a few times. “Could you turn the portal on and poke your head in? I need to talk to Wulf.”

“Oh- yes, of course. Just a minute,” she sang out. Machinery roared so loudly that he winced and pulled the phone away from his face. 

“Is that really your Mummy?” said the Joker loudly, because he was rude and couldn’t tolerate ceding conversational ground for a minute, jeeze.

Danny ignored him. “Actually if you could tell him that I’m hoping he could help me take… take out a…” he glanced at Joker. “A themed villain, I guess. He needs to go somewhere safer than the locals can manage.”

“Oh, that would be good enrichment for Mr. Walker,” Mom said generously. The sound quality changed as she put him on speakerphone.

“Fuck the police,” Danny said reflexively. “But I was thinking, like…” He frowned. 

There were a lot of options. He could literally just toss the dude into the Ghost Zone and come back for him later without fear he would keep getting out. But it might be really annoying to hunt him down if he like, wandered around.

Oh. Hunt. 

“Skulker!” Danny said brightly. “This would be really good enrichment for Skulker.” He could take the guy over to Skulker’s lair and let him play catch and release. Skulker loved those games.

“I’ll pass on the message.” The portal unlocked on the other end of the call, an unmistakable sound. “Bye, honey!”

Danny hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He turned around to see the Joker was trying to wriggle out of his restraints. Was that possible? Probably, he decided. The guy kept getting out of here. He pursed his lips. “You’re safer from me if you stay in there,” he decided to warn.

Joker let out a hysterical cackle.

It went on too long.

Like, it went on and on. Danny crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, lifting his eyebrows as he waited for it to end. Jeeze. 

“You’re funny,” Joker said. He licked his lips. It was uncomfortably loud in the cell. “A real jokester. A guy could get a little offended, you know? You’re stealing my schtick. Just like your little sweetie, come to think of it. I didn’t bring you together, did I?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “No, you gigantic loser. I’ve never even heard of you.” He ignored the affronted silence that garnered and opened up a gaming app to kill time.

‘I need to get Wulf a phone somehow,’ Danny thought idly. He matched two chocolate donuts and they disappeared in a cloud of sprinkles. 

“Hey. I am talking to you.”

Danny gave Joker a thumbs down without bothering to look at him. 

He stepped to the left. Then he shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked up in time for the ripple of interdimensional energy to coalescence into a vivid tear in the fabric of the universe.

Wulf bounded into sight and snatched him up in a hug. “Mia amiko!” (My friend!)

Danny hugged back hard enough to crack Wulf’s back and picked him up off the floor. “Amikinoooo,” he crooned. (Bestieeeeee)

Wulf kicked playfully at him. He caught himself with a scuttle of claws on the floor when Danny let go. “Mia panjo diris nenion embarasan, ĉu ne?” (My Mom didn't say anything embarrassing, did she?) It was mostly a formality. Of course Mom had done something embarrassing. 

“ŝi montris al mi la bildojn, kiuj pruvas, ke vi rifuzis blovi vian nazon ĉe Disneyland kiam vi estis sep, ĉar vi sentis, ke ĝi estas embarasa.” Wulf grinned back. (“She showed me the pictures that prove you refused to blow your nose at Disneyland when you were seven because you felt it was embarrassing.”)

Danny sighed. “Why does she take those photos everywhere she goes?” He groused. Then he pushed his hair back off of his face and decided to ask if Wulf wanted a phone, before he forgot about it. “ĉu vi ŝatus havi poŝtelefonon?” (Do you want a phone?)

Wulf brightened. “Jes.” He shook out his ruff. “mi uzus ĝin por verki retmesaĝojn kaj fari Linkedin-konton.” (Yes, I would use it to write emails and create a Linkedin account.)

Danny opened his mouth to ask why Wulf wanted to have a Linked -In account. Then he shut it and nodded. Great. He’d try to get Wulf a phone, then. For his emails. Were you supposed to email on a phone? Was Danny using his phone wrong?

“Či tiu viro estas tre malbonodora.” Wulf gestured at Joker. (This man is very smelly.)

“Hey!” Joker said loudly. “I resent that remark, you know. I do not smell of anything except flowers. Daisies. Roses.”

“Jes, malbonodora,” Danny agreed. (Yeah, stinky.) He didn’t smell whatever Wulf did, but he was willing to assume the other guy was right. “Li estas fripono. Mi pensas, ke li vundis mian amikon.” ("He's a creep. I think he hurt my friend.")

Wulf growled. 

Joker shut up for once. Danny shot him a little smirk. Wulf had no chill. He was a good bro like that. If Joker really had hurt one of Danny’s friends, then Wulf was gonna be his opp for life. 

“Kion ni faru? eble ni povus peti Desiree certigi ke li neniam vundas mortonton denove.” Wulf struck a contemplative pose, claws stroking at his jawline.  ("What should we do? Maybe we could ask Desiree to make sure he never hurts a mortal again.")

Danny nearly choked. Get help from Desiree? Like, make a wish that Joker would be incapable of hurting people again? Danny burst out into giggles. It seemed a little extreme. “Ne, ne,” he demurred. “Mi pensis doni lin al Skulker.” (No, no. I was thinking about giving him to Skulker.)

Wulf laughed. “Jes,” he agreed. “Tio estos amuza.” (Yes, that is funny.)

Danny gave him double thumbs up. “Mi vere dankus helpon pri transportado. Mi nuntempe rompas kaj eniras.” ("I would really appreciate some help with transportation. I'm currently breaking and entering.") He tried not to look too sheepish at that last bit, but it was relevant. Since he wasn’t supposed to be here, he really should keep a hustle on. 

His friend tossed off a crisp salute. Wulf picked Joker up with one hand and leapt back through the portal while Joker was still saying, “What?”

“Neat,” Danny said, alone in a mental health treatment cell that looked a lot like a high security prison. He glanced up at the camera that had probably recorded his whole visit. Had there been enough ecto to ruin the feed? He didn’t know, and it was too late now. “Hmm.” He let his eyes glow green. They’d reflect light like a cat’s would. Then he went invisible. 

If his ecto hadn’t shifted out the camera, that would at least give anyone who saw it the creeps. Danny snickered to himself as he tiptoed out of the not-prison to regroup. 

That had been a total deadend. But it meant that Jay probably hadn’t gotten arrested. 

Optimistically, he got out his phone to check if Jay had responded to his “You alive?” message. No dice. Blegh.

So. Batman. Danny grimaced. He had to talk to Batman. Right? Was there anything else? Not that Danny could think of.

Danny shuddered, feeling a bad case of the creepy eepies walking up his back. He still wanted to avoid Batman like he avoided parvo. But that ship had sailed, right? Batman knew who he was and where he lived. So he might as well meet the guy to get his information. “He’s probably chill,” Danny lied to himself. “And hey, he might be happy that I helped him out with Joker. Maybe he’ll be in a good mood.”

[muwapsturniolo]

Brutus 2 🦇 Chris sturniolo

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...." PT 1

NSFW AHEAD!!! mentions of murder, stabbing, assault (not detailed!!!), alcohol, blowjobs/face fucking, facials, cum eating, rough sex, biting, cream pies, choking, switch! Chris, Matt is a perv

The police still couldn’t figure out what happened on the final night of Halloween horror nights. It’s been a month and the gruesome murders were still unsolved and left everyone scratching their head. The police took the right measures, they taped off the crime scene for weeks on end, rewatched the CCTV footage, and questioned the crew and attendees.

But they came up empty-handed.

They couldn’t figure out who committed the crime or why they did it.

But she knew.

When she was questioned, the police showing up at her door with her discarded tweed purse, she lied and said she didn’t see anything. Claimed she barely remembers that night due to the alcohol she consumed on the premises.

She knew it was wrong to lie to authority, to take away the possibility of a grieving family to finally have peace and to know the killer is behind bars. She knew if anyone found out what she did they would call her insane and probably throw her six feet under a jail - She didn’t want that.

She was lying to cover her own ass and the nameless killers, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Especially if it meant they would continue watching her.

It was only a couple of days after that night when she felt as if she was being watched. She had just gotten out of the shower and walked into her bedroom to put on her pajamas when she noticed the clothes were on the floor.

That isn't where she left them.

She vividly remembered placing them neatly at the foot of her bed, folded and ready to throw on. Now they were thrown onto the floor in a mess, and her panties were missing.

Fear should have settled into her body, but instead, she proceeded to get dressed right in front of the open window.

With that being said, she went about her life as if nothing happened, as if she wasn't being stalked by two psychopaths.

Her routine never changed.

Weeks had gone by, minutes, hours - two months to be exact. She had given up the little bit of hope that those two would make an appearance. Honestly, she had forgotten about them until a Christmas party had gone wrong.

Her friends had forced her to attend, shoving her into a powder blue satin dress and a pair of silver heels to match. soon, she was at the party, standing in the corner with a frown on her face.

She wasn't having a good time. Her friends had ditched her as soon as they made it to the club, this guy who was completely wasted wouldn't leave her alone, and she was hot.

Deciding that she was over it and needed some air, she found her friends and told them she was leaving. She walked away, ignoring their drunken protests, and pulled out her phone, attempting to order an Uber.

It seemed like she didn't have any luck, the cellular device having no type of signal. With a huff she begins walking down the street, not noticing the two people following her.

"This is so stupid! This is the last time I let them drag me to a dumb party an-" A small scream escapes her mouth as she's pushed into an alley, her phone falling from her hands. Her body collides with a trash can, preventing her from falling into the muddy puddles of water from the melted snow.

She's soon shoved against the wall, the streetlamps casting a shadow over her attacker's face. She didn't need lights to know who the person was, the rancid smell of alcohol was enough.

It was the same man from the party, he had followed her out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off of me!" She shouts in annoyance, trying to push him off. It was odd, the way she was completely sober and had better coordination should have given her the strength to push him away. But to no avail, he proceeded to force himself upon her, slurring his words in the process.

Just as his hand goes up her dress, he's yanked away and tackled to the ground, her savior immediately throwing punches.

She stays frozen against the wall, too shocked to even register what's happening.

A glimmer of light snaps her back into reality.

She watches as her savior raises his arm, a knife in hand.

She watches as the blade is plunged into her attacker's chest, his screams slowly drowning out as he chokes on his own blood. She watches her savior continuously bring the knife down, not stopping until he's satisfied.

His actions begin to slow, his breathing heavy as he slumps back, staring at the lifeless body underneath him.

She takes a hesitant step forward, freezing when her savior turns to her.

She already knew, but the mask adorning his face confirmed it.

Her savior was the same man from that night, the same masked man who was ready to kill her before being scared away by his partner in crime.

His wild and deranged eyes soften as they connect with hers, his breathing calming down.

They say nothing, the only sound being heard is the flurries of snow rushing past them.

She slowly approaches, holding her hand out before speaking softly, "Come on, let's go."

He looks down at her hand before standing up, towering over her. He points towards her discarded phone, his silence-speaking words. She nods and rushes over to her phone, bending down to grab it. She huffs seeing the cracked screen, cursing out the dead man in her head. Just as she begins to wipe the phone off, she hears a loud bang.

She whips around and sees both the masked savior and the dead body gone, her brows slowly creasing.

Where did they go? How did they disappear so quick?

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand landing on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise and turns around to see the masked savior in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, " she covers her chest as her heart begins to beat quickly. She swears she heard him snicker softly, but before she could question him, he wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.

In reality, she knows she should be scared and questioning him, but she stays silent, allowing him to guide her to wherever they are going. They soon arrive in front of a beat-up pickup truck, parts of the car rusting as snow sits in the bed.

He opens the passenger door and looks at her expectantly. She peers inside the truck, noticing the mess inside. The cans of Pepsi discarded on the floor, the wrappers from candy, the smell of cigarettes, and most importantly,

The small bloodstains on the seats.

She looks back at him, noticing the soft look in his eyes.

"You want me to get in?"

He nods, still refusing to speak.

"Are you taking me home?"

He nods once more.

"Do you know where I live?"

He tenses, the grip he has on her arm tightening. It's almost as if he's scared, scared of being caught for stalking. Scared she's going to scream, run away, reject him.

She snickers softly seeing the fear in his eyes, it's a bit ironic.

She says nothing, simply climbing into the truck and buckling herself in.

"Come on, I miss my bed."

With that, he closes the door and climbs into the car himself, quickly starting the engine and driving off. She watches silently as he drives down familiar streets, having driven down them herself whenever she's on her way home.

The car ride was filled with silence, it wasn't tense if anything, it was calming, the both of them relaxed.

They soon arrive and he kills the engine, staring straight ahead out the window. She turns to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask.

"Thank you for helping me," she says softly. He gives a curt nod, his hands still placed on the wheel.

"Did you want to come in?" His head whips to her, his eyes holding confusion. She smirks, enjoying the hesitancy and confusion in his eyes.

" Come on, you've been inside anyway. Might as well come in with an invitation this time."

He huffs behind the mask but follows her actions in unbuckling the seat belt and climbing out of the car.

They walk inside the house, the girl kicking off the annoying heels and throwing her keys in the bowl on the stand. She walks to her bedroom, smiling to herself as she hears his sluggish footsteps behind her. She throws herself onto her bed, flipping onto her back and propping herself up with her elbows.

She looks him up and down curiously, attempting to familiarize herself with him again.

"How come you wear a mask?"

Like always, he says nothing, refusing to even glance in her direction. She pushes herself off the bed and approaches him, cornering him. No words are spoken between the two as she presses herself against him, his breathing speeding up. With a slow and steady hand, she trails it up his arm, her fingers soon fanning out against his chest.

She goes to touch the edge of the mask, but she's stopped by his hand firmly grasping her wrist.

He looks scared.

Despite the tight grip he has on her, she continues with her actions. Her fingers grip the edge of the mask, slowly pulling it off of his face.

He quickly turns his head, his hair falling in front of his face. She gently turns him back towards her, their eyes connecting as her fingers dance across the scar on his cheek.

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...."

A shocked expression makes its way onto her face. He spoke, he finally spoke, and the first thing he decided to say was a number.

"W-what?" She questions in confusion, raking her brain for what the number could mean.

"Th-the man....I sta-stabbed him one hun-dred and f-fifteen times."

She's shocked by the confession.

She didn't know a lot about murder, only having seen it and heard about it in movies and TV shows, but she knew it took a lot of energy and anger to stab someone that amount of times - He did it for her.

It was sick, it was twisted, and yet, it attracted her.

"Let me thank you," she mumbles, her hand leaving his face and trailing down his chest, soon finding its place over his crotch. She begins to palm him, watching his breathing grow harsh, their eyes still connected. A small whimper leaves his mouth, and she breaks out into a grin - his moans were so pretty, so soft,

Submissive.

She sinks to her knees, both of her hands working at his belt, soon throwing it to the floor. Her mouth waters as she pulls his pants down, his cock slapping his abdomen.

It was pretty, just like him.

It was long and thick, and had a bright red tip that matched his chapped lips. There was a vein running up the side that she knew would feel euphoric when sliding against her spongy walls.

He bucks his hips softly as she wraps her hand around his shaft, pulling it towards her mouth. She opens her mouth and allows a wad of spit to trickle out, landing directly on his tip. Her thumb swipes over the tip as she moves the spit around, starting to jerk him off.

His moans and whimpers are kitten-like, despite his horrific and brutal demeanor, he was like putty in her hands.

She enjoys the way his body relaxes against the door, his head thrown back and his mouth open as he pants softly. She kitten licks his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His rough and calloused hands fly to her head, grabbing the strands of hair and forcing her to take him deeper.

She gags around him, tears forming in her eyes as she opens her mouth wider, but she keeps going. She bobs her head up and down, making sure to hum and fondle his balls in the process.

His moans and groans grow louder, and his actions become more dominant. It was like a switch was flipped in his head, his hips starting to slam against her face.

He shows no mercy as he fucks her face, his dick reaching so far down her throat and giving her no chance to breathe. Her actions of gratitude had quickly become sloppy, the mixture of spit and precum coating her chin and falling down to her chest.

There were even bubbles of the mixture forming, popping every time her nose hit his happy trail.

She manages to look up at him, her mascara tears and glossy eyes making her look so damaged yet innocent - It drives him over the edge.

He quickly pulls out of her mouth and releases all over her face, enjoying the way she gasps in shock.

It's like his body is on autopilot, nothing but excitement and adrenaline controlling his actions. His hand wraps around her throat, lifting her to her feet with ease. Their lips instantly mesh together, swapping spit as they hastily make out. She moans into the kiss as he tightens his grip on her throat, the wetness in her panties only growing. She could feel the sticky fluid in between her folds every time she clenched her thighs - She was aching for him to touch her.

He suddenly pulls away from the kiss and begins to lick his own semen off of her face, his eyes rolling back. She moaned at his erotic actions, the way his soft and spongy muscle glided over her cheek. She could smell the faint mixture of cigarettes on his breath, but she found herself not caring.

Suddenly, she's pushed away from him, her body colliding with the mattress. It all happens so quick, the way her powder blue dress is ripped into pieces, her soaked panties following.

He was like a rabid, feral dog, ready to take what he wanted and she was just as excited.

Her jaw drops and her back arches as he shoves his length inside of her, reaching to the deepest hilt. Much like his partner in crime, he stretched her out perfectly, her aching walls sucking him in and not letting him go. The bedframe bangs against the wall with each ferocious thrust, items falling off her nightstand due to the shaking.

He shoves his face into the crevice of her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin. He proceeds with his actions, the marking of his teeth covering her whole chest along with her breasts - Blood is drawn in certain areas.

It's an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so overwhelming that she can't even keep her eyes open nor hold him. Her arms lay flat by her head, her eyes clenched shut as her mouth remains open.

Her eyes fly open when her head whips to the side, the same hand that slapped her wrapping around her throat, squeezing tightly.

He's heaving like a dog, his pants mixed with groans, making him sound like a beast.

She weakly grabbed at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on her throat, but it was no use. She had become lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air.

She was close to passing out, but she was also close to reaching her orgasm, it was just a matter of which one she would experience first.

"You're going to kill her, ease up on the choking."

Her blurry eyes dart to the bedroom door, a choked gurgle escaping her mouth when she sees him.

He was here, the one with the painted face. Except, his face wasn't painted, and he was watching her be fucked by his partner.

She gasped for air when he released her throat, her eyes still trained on the other one. She watches as he takes a seat at her vanity, leaning back on the chair and manspreading.

"Don't look at me, look at him. He's the one fucking you."

She does as told, her eyes connecting with the man on top of her. He had the same look in his eyes from that night when he chased after the girl trying to run away.

"Tell him how good he's making you feel, he loves the praise,"

"S-so good- Nghh. Fuck- " She could barely speak a full sentence, her speech slurred.

"That's all you can do? Come on dollface, he killed someone for you! Show him how grateful you are! He finally gets to feel you after watching me fuck you, give him the experience he deserves."

Her mind is reeling, incoherent babbles of praise falling from her lips. The more she praises him, the harder his thrust become, her sobs of pleasure getting louder.

It's not long before she felt that familiar coil in her stomach forming, ready to burst at any second - and all it took was one final thrust from the man on top of her to push her over the edge.

Her whole body shakes violently, her eyes rolling back as she feels the static rush through her body. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurry as she came down from her high.

She lays there shaking, her fingers twitching as she pants harshly. She was worn out, fucked, and tired.

Suddenly, he stands up from the vanity and slams his hand down on Chris's back, "Look at her....and I thought I wore her out." They both look down at her, trying to figure out what to do next.

Matt suddenly bends down and moves her hair out of her face, grabbing her chin softly.

"Wake up doll, your night has just started."

[nightingale-prompts]

Two for One deal- After Image AU- DCxDP

Original post

So would call him negligent but he called it teaching independence. Danny was a smart kid and had everything he needed. Harvey was satisfied with that. Who needed an adult constantly hanging over him? Besides the goons will handle it.

"Harv, are you sure you can handle this? I mean Dick and Tim were a cakewalk but even they were hard to handle." Bruce said stirring his coffee as his eyes wondered around the venue.

They were currently at a well-known and exclusive restaurant for their monthly brunch.

"Come on, it's one kid. I'm not going to start picking up random orphans off the street like you." Harvey said with his typical snark.

Let it not be said that Havery wasn't an asshole. He was. Narcissistic too. But he had a good heart or at least half of one.

"I don't know. Have you been taking your medicine?" Bruce asked his tone shifting to the more serious one he used rarely back in school. "If you want to take care of him you need to take care of yourself."

"Come on Bruce, both of us have had our share of trauma. I can handle this without you needling like a wife." Harvey joked.

Bruce didn't find it funny at all and slightly sexist. Harvey wasn't taking this seriously and his mask was slipping. He hadn't been taking his medication.

"So your son. What is he like?" Bruce shifted the conversation.

"He's polite...when he wants to be. Smarter than most adults I know. Likes to be left alone. Gets on my last nerve." Harvey laughed to himself.

Just then his phone rang.

On the other side a small voice pipped up.

"Mister Dent...I think I'm being kidnapped."

"Think or know?" Harvey said standing up from the table.

"Mr.Dent we have your son. If you want him to be safe you need to represent my client in his upcoming court case."

Harvey clenched his teeth. In internal battle had begun.

"We could let him kill the brat."

"Or we could do as he says. Or call in favor for help."

Harvey reflexively reached for his coin but realized quickly that he didn't want to. If he actually got tail that would mean Danny would be left to die. He'd be innocent but could he really let that happen.

"You don't really mean that. You don't really want him to die. Who'd you argue with other than me?"

"I don't need you and I don't need the boy hanging around."

"And who would understand you like him? He's like us. He is ours and he needs us."

"....fine."

Harvey stood from the table and quickly told Bruce he had to go.

From Wayne's perspective, he watched Harv freeze and his eyes widened in fear and anger.

****

Elsewhere a confused Danny sat tied up in a warehouse.

"I told you we should have stayed at home."

"But we needed to stretch our legs. Do you want to know what this part of the city looks like. Mister Harvey moved us all the way uptown and I wanted to see it."

"We were safer back in outskirts apparently. Come on let's get out of here. This place reeks."

"Yeah, we shouldn't worry Mister Harvey. Causing problems would get us kicked out."

****

The situation seemed to work itself out almost elegantly.

The news reported that Harvey Dent with the help of undercover police(goons) heroically rescued his adopted son (who had already beat the kidnappers bloody).

The news made sure to get a good shot of Harvey hugging the squirming teenage boy.

"You're crushing us!"

"Don't wander off alone then. Next time I'm tying you up."

[deadlychansaw]

— hope

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x reader

warnings: vomiting, no use of y/n, bit angst, pregnancy, it happens during ep 2 s2

a/n: omg first time writing something like this, i hope someone enjoy this 🫣

00:30 was the number sparkling in neon red in her bedside watch. She couldn't stop looking at it. She couldn't sleep. How could she? The bed too big and cold for her to be alone, she missed her husband. Where was he?

She thought that after the coma he would retire and live peacefully with her, maybe in some cabin in the woods with two kids and a dog. this thought alone made her want to tear up.

She knew being a police officer was dangerous, so every time he wasn't home she feared that something had happened. This made her want to throw up, and she did.

That was unusual for her, maybe... no. It couldn't be. But when was the last time she had her period again? It was nine days late, this was also unusual. How haven't she noticed it?

00:45. She couldn't wait until morning so she picked up her car and went to a 24h open drugstore

"Do you need any help, miss?"

"I want a pregnancy test"

"Are you alright, dear?"

She hadn't noticed that small tears started to run down her face.

"I will be"

As the old lady gave her the test she smiled sympathetically and said:

"I'm sure you will. You don't need to be afraid"

" My husband is a cop" She felt the need to reply

"Oh, I see. But you will be fine, dear. I felt the same when my husband fought in war."

This time, she didn't reply.

She got home after speeding the car a little more than necessary and running a few red lights and went straight to the bathroom to do the goddamn test.

Palms sweaty, hands shaking and feet stomping in circles. It hasn't even passed the three minutes the test needed to be ready, just a few more seconds and...

oh.

Positive. p-o-s-i-t-i-v-e.

She was pregnant and wasn't even sure her husband would return home. Where are you Jun-ho?

"Babe, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

His voice reached her ears like the light in the end of a dark tunnel.

"I was waiting for you"

"My love, you know you don't need to"

"But I wanted to. Where were you?"

"I was in some kind of a car chase, but they shot in my tires"

That made her eyes open wide. "What? Chasing who? Are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt. I wish I could tell you everything but i don't wanna put you at risk"

"I accepted the risk the day i accepted to be your wife. Please tell me. I'd rather know what i'm scared of"

"I guess you're right"

So he tells her everything. The games, his brother, his plan with Gi-hun. Everything.

"That is awful. Unbelievably awful. How can some people be so disgusting and evil? Gosh, that makes me sick"

She ran to the bathroom and started to vomit in the toilet, he ran after her and held her hair.

"Are you okay? I know it's s lot to process"

"Oh my God, I'm sorry for this, now you'll never want to kiss me again."

"There's not a world where i wouldn't want to kiss you" He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "But let's brush those teeth, shall we?"

Jun-ho gets up to put toothpaste in her toothbrush and give it to her.

"I don't know what i did to deserve you, Jun-ho"

"I am the lucky one here, babe. You're still here with me after everything i told you."

"i'm not leaving your side. Never."

He picks her up in bridal style.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting my wife to bed, as i should"

He really was the sweetest thing in her life, she needed to tell him already. All the what-ifs started coming to head again what if he doesn't want a child? what if he doesn't have time to form a family? what if he never come back home anymore?

"Babe, are you crying?"

"Do you really need to search for that island?"

"I do. These games need to stop."

"I don't want anything bad happening to you"

"I promise it won't. I will always come back home to you" He seals the promise by joining their lips in a long, slow and passionate kiss.

"Jun-ho, I need to tell you something but i'm so afraid of how you're gonna react."

"You don't need to be afraid, my love. I'm always here for you no matter what"

"I- I am pregnant" She doesn't wait for him to answer. " I know it's not the right time, and maybe you don't even want to be a dad and-"

She sees that he opened his characteristically big and warm smile, one that lights up her whole world.

"Are you... happy?"

"Are you kidding? Babe i feel like the luckiest guy of all South Korea. I'm so happy. Oh my god, i'm gonna have a daughter "

That made her chuckle.

"We don't know if it's a girl"

"Oh i'm sure of that. We need to celebrate"

"Celebrate? At this time? How?

"Hmm, i can think of a few ways..."

And she had a feeling she haven't felt in a while. relief. Hope.

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.