#LEAVE HIM ALONE. AT LEAST BE MEAN TO HIM WHEN IT COMES TO HIS CRIMES. NOT HIS ETHNICITY. MY GODS 😭

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lemonadehtwooh]

Playing Honkai Star Rail!

WHY IS EVERYONE THROWING MICROAGGRESSIONS AT AVENTURINE, DAMN 😭

[crescenthistory]

May I request C6 with Regulus? I’m in some desperate need of Reggie comforting reader 😭😭😭

there are sosososo many different ways to interpret this prompt, and somehow i chose? perhaps the darkest one? so sorry, you are really going to need that comforting now... thanks for requesting lmao xx

Prompt: C.6 "I don't know, it just happened"

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, blood racism, internalised blood racism, hate crime/minor assault, emotional breakdown, mutual self-hatred, regulus has not left the black family, alluded black brothers drama, undecided side regulus, perhaps a bit cliche/romanticising, established relationship, your dad is dead (long ago, mentioned), heavy hurt/comfort, happy ending

Notes: lol i am not okay

It was a rare occurrence that Regulus Black felt light these days, in any meaning of the word. 

His feet felt shackled as he trekked through the Hogwarts halls he felt were increasingly unwelcoming to him. His consciousness weighed him down like a thousand bricks as he knew he had to either take a stance against his parents or become complacent in a hope of survival. He knew he had to do the former; he had no idea how to stop himself from the latter. Trapped, cornered, cowardly – heavy.

Yet, when walking the final few metres to your dormitory that he knew housed your soft self now that you were done with tutoring first years, he felt undeservingly light. A sensation only you could inspire in him these days.

While conversations were growing tenser and tenser between you the more Regulus struggled with freeing himself from his family, your love for him had yet to falter. He knew he was only biding his time, but until then he could not help revelling in it, albeit guilt ridden. 

He does not knock before entering, just carefully pushes the ajar door further open. You had told him off for knocking so primly every time – “you’re always welcome here, Reggie” – and he wanted nothing more than to please you.

“Amour?” he called out as he closed the door softly behind him, looking around the dorm for a trace of you, or at least one of your dorm mates.

None to be found.

He dropped his bookbag by the end of your bed, reaching up to scratch the back of his head as he looked around. Some of that heaviness began returning to his limbs at your absence, his hope of slipping away from the world with you for the next few hours dissolving.

Then, he heard the water running from the adjunct bathroom. A sigh of relief escaped him, though his body remained tense, and he made his way over. He could hear the water splashing from the sink and he carefully knocked on the door with one knuckle.

“Amour?” he tried again.

This time he technically got a response of sorts, though nowhere near the one he had been hoping for. All movement behind the door stilled. The water was still running in a steady stream, but whatever you had been doing with it, you had stopped. Regulus could almost picture you standing like a deer in headlights – his brows furrowed unhappily at the thought.

“Are you alright, love?” 

Finally, your voice answered, but the fragility of it rattled him. “Oh, um, hi Reggie, I– I’m alright, be with you in a minute, yeah?”

You seemed distressed. Regulus did not care for it at all.

“Could I come in, amour?” He spoke to the door as if it was not there, as if he was looking you in the eyes, willing you to let him in.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmured, but he just barely caught it through the wood.

Regulus seemed to have met a divulge where he had to make a choice – a relatively minor one, but it felt important nonetheless.

A large, painful part of his mind was screaming at him to leave you alone. She doesn’t want you, she’s finally seen you for what you are. Scum staining the story of her life. It is this voice that rules most of his actions, the voice keeping him and Sirius apart, the voice tying him to something he does not feel comfortable with. 

Then there is another, burning hot part that aches to reach for you. The part that knows you better than the first thinks he deserves, the part that can tell by the tone of your voice, by a jerk of your finger, exactly how you are feeling and, hopefully, what you need. This part is one Regulus takes a great deal of pride in, this part feels good. Though it scares him and the first part tries to quell it, he holds it near his heart.

And it is this part that opens his mouth and says, “Could I come in anyway?”

A minute. A hesitation. A sigh.

“Yes,” you whispered.

His hand is tentative as it grips the doorhandle to the bathroom, as if it has become a part of your body from him talking to it, deserving of that same care he attempts to show you. He twists it and pushes it open.

The bathroom is swept in darkness – a conscious choice on your part, seeing as you would have to magically blow out the candles that lined the walls. He could still see you, leaning against the counter with the sink, face turned slightly away from him.

“Hi, my love,” you greeted, trying to seem casual as if he had just walked into your dorm under usual circumstances. With your hand awkwardly angled so that he only saw the inside of your palm, you adjusted the faucet. “How was practise?”

Regulus ignored your small-talk, walking up to stand beside you, body angled fully towards you as you began scrubbing at your hands once more. With the light trickling in through the open door, he swore the water looked pinkish. His breath hitched, eyes flickering all over you and the room to make sense of whatever was happening.

“Amour, what’s wrong?” His voice was rawer than he was comfortable with.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You were getting a hang of the bright and airy tone of voice you were going for, but it was too late for that. “Just a long day, you know? Do you want to go get the bed ready so we can relax?”

The voices were warring in Regulus’ head at the rejection of his presence, but once more the part he could only describe as lovesick took a step closer to you, so your bodies were just barely touching. “Y/N,” was all he said.

Your ministrations grew more desperate, scrubbing water up and down your hands and forearms, breath laboured. He lifted a hand to brush against your face – when you flinched, his heart broke. 

She’s scared of you.

No, she’s just scared.

He let his hand ever so slowly land on the cheek furthest away from him, cradling your jaw with the kind of light touch reserved for baby birds and broken children. He found the skin there soft and wet, and he swore he could cut himself on the shards of his broken heart.

He guided your head to turn towards him, his grip loose so that you could stop him if you wanted. Once your face was opposite his, Regulus fought every instinct in his body that told him to study you, search your face for the spawn of your pain. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours. Giving you space, privacy even, giving you the moment you clearly needed – but sparing you from doing it alone

Your hands slowed down in their scrubbing, and with his free hand reaching out blindly, he turned off the faucet. Your breath stuttered where it spilled over his lips.

“Do you reckon you want to sit down? Talk about it?” Regulus whispered, eyes still closed.

He felt you nod against his skin, grabbing a hand towel as you walked backwards the few steps needed before you could sit down on the toilet lid. Regulus followed you, eyes opening and attempting to adjust to this darker corner of the bathroom. He sat down on his knees between your legs, painful tiles be damned, and looked up at you intently. 

In front of him sat the light of his life, visibly sullied. Your face was red and he could make out the tear tracks and smudged mascara underneath your eyes. You clutched the towel, hands buried within it and out of sight.

“Amour,” he whispered dumbly, unsure of what else to say, as he carefully brought his hands up to wipe at your tears. 

You mumbled his name and it almost sounded like a sob. 

Your hands were writhing in your lap around the towel, and he reached down to take it and help you dry yourself when you jerked your hands closer to you, towel still in grasp. “No,” you whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you lied through your teeth. “I’ve just had a bad day and��� and felt anxious. Couldn't help but cry over it. I don’t know, it just happened.” 

Regulus gave you a sad smile, squeezing the still-wet skin on your forearms. “Uh-huh. And you felt like taking it out on your hands?”

A sob finally tore through your body properly and you brought your hands up – still in the towel – to cover your face. You leaned forward and cried into it, and Regulus immediately opened his arms to hold your shaking frame. Your towel and face were smushed into the crook of his neck and he drew big circles on your back with one hand, the other securely holding the back of your head. 

He was broken, at a loss for words, trying to recall any and every memory he could find of witnessing others comforting, not trusting his own instincts. Through them all, out flashed a memory of Sirius humming to him when he had nightmares as a child, how the vibrations soothed through him until he could finally fall asleep again, in his big brother’s bed this time. Without any distinct melody or song in mind, Regulus began to hum as he swayed you just ever so slightly back and forth, hoping to bring you some semblance of safety.

Your gasps lessened until the bathroom was near-quiet again, but he did not stop his movements with you or the humming. Your heart blossomed from his efforts and broke at what you knew was to come.

You lowered your hands from your face, letting them fall into your lap with their towel. Your face was now in direct contact with the soft skin of his neck and you took the opportunity to press a soft kiss there.

“Can I please do something to help you?” he whispered into your hair.

“You are.”

He breathed in slowly. He is. “With your hands, I mean. Are you hurt?”

Tears slipped quietly down the expanse of Regulus’ neck, trailing down underneath his shirt. You tried to nuzzle deeper into him.

“I–” you stop, seemingly changing your mind. “I’m alright, I just need to… to remove magical ink from them and I can’t get it off.”

Regulus fought back the that’s all? that was creeping up his throat. He knows at least two spells that work for most permanent inks and can brew a potion for it within the hour if those don't work. 

Your head squeezed against his shoulder as he nodded his head, still stroking your back. “No problem, beautiful, I can fix that.”

“No,” you whispered once more, seeming to shrink in his grasp. “I have to.”

He helped ease you out from his neck so that you were face to face once more, his hands coming up to brush over the sides of your arms. The look in your eyes was one he struggled to decipher, apart from the shine of anxiety. 

“Why do you have to? Let me help you, amour.”

You took another shuddering breath, brazing yourself for impact. “You can’t see,” you whispered finally, fighting the quiver of your lips.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You can’t see them, Reg, I’m sorry.”

“Did someone do something to you?” It was the only explanation he could conjure up for why any permanent ink would make you this distraught – and why you would hide from him like this.

You searched his face carefully, faintly nodding in a way that made him think it was a response to your own thoughts and not his question. Like you decided on something. 

“Someone wrote something. I just want it gone.”

Regulus’ stomach churned. He regretted the harsh tone of his voice as he demanded, “Who?”

“It’s not important.” 

“It is to me. Please. Who?”

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, gnawing at it as you realised he would find out. Someone would tell him, even if you refused to show him. He would know. You tasted blood in your mouth.

With his eyes adjusted to the dark, Regulus saw the faint red on your lips as well and immediately reached out to gently pull your lip free from its torment. His fingertips lingered on your lips until he replaced them with his own with a short, tentative kiss. If you were to have blood in your mouth, he would too.

Lips still against yours he whispered again, more pleadingly this time, “Who?”

You let your walls crumble. This sweet, caring boy was in your grasp for now and you could not help but let him care while he still wanted to. “Mulciber,” you whispered back.

Regulus pulled back enough to meet your gaze, confusion filling his. “Why Mulciber? What would he have to write on you?” 

Up until now he had half-thought that some of your first year tutees had pranked you in some ungraceful manner. He was certain he had never seen you and Mulciber even talk before, let alone have an altercation that could involve magical ink. He was one of the more brutal Slytherins, but he had never had any reason to talk to you, and he knew that you were someone Regulus cared for. What he had hoped would let him in on your pain only confused him further away from any answer.

“Regulus, please,” you begged, ignorant to his confusion. Tears were once more filling your eyes and he wished for nothing but to stop them.

“Okay, okay,” he whispered, hoping to convince your tears to stay where they are. “You– you don’t have to explain it, love. I can just remove it for you.”

“Could you teach me instead?” Your lip was back between your teeth, lightening in colour underneath the force it was exerted to.

“I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to remove something from your hands yourself, you need them for the spell.” Regulus hoped his gaze seemed sympathetic.

You squeezed your eyes shut, moving your head slightly to your side. Regulus recognised your breathing pattern to follow a technique you had taught him to calm down the first time he had a panic attack around you. Afterwards, you didn't mention it, only giving him space to talk about what he was comfortable with, comfort at the ready.

His own breath was bated as he watched you make your decision. A definite tear slid down the cheek closest to him, in a hauntingly cinematic manner. At last, your eyes slowly fluttered open and you looked back into his eyes with the most devastating expression. Slipping a hand slowly out from your towel – out of Regulus’ line of sight – you brought it up to his cheek to bring his face closer to yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with a love and devotion he was not prepared for in a situation like this. He was enveloped by the smell of you, and though you still tasted of copper, your lips were painfully soft and he let himself fall deeper into you. When you pulled away, you pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his mouth.

“I love you,” you whispered. Regulus hated how it sounded like you were saying goodbye. 

His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, and he hoped it looked like confusion and nothing more sinister. “I love you too, amour. You know.”

“I’ll let you remove it, if you want.”

“Please.”

Your gaze fell to your lap and remained there as you let both hands out of the towel, placing them palm-down on your thighs. Regulus had begun reaching for his wand in a holster on his belt, ready to rid you of the source of your discontent, but he was frozen still when his own eyes finally took in your hands and the two bold, dark words written on each one.

MUD on the left. BLOOD on the right.

Mudblood. 

Regulus’ blood had run cold in his veins and he found himself having to adopt your breathing technique. His vision blurred as the two words seemed to grow larger, which seemed impossible considering they were written to take up as much space as possible. The handwriting was shaky, as if there had been a struggle when they were written. There were some light bruises already forming around your wrists and upper arms that further proved his fear. Mudblood. With red streaks over both works, likely from how hard you had been trying to wash them, all but scraping them off. Mudblood. The word was choking him. His hand that had remained still midair by his belt began to tremble.

He was knocked out of his trance as he saw a single tear splatter across the lettering on your right hand. 

Regulus moved his gaze back up to yours to find it was still trained on your hands, eyes glossy and unseeing.

“I–” he tried, but his voice broke off. “I don't understand. Y/N, I don’t understand.”

You seemed to flinch a little at the sound of your name, but other than that you made no sign that you heard him.

“Amour,” he rectified. “Why would… what is this?”

You moved your right hand over your left, starting to scratch at the word scribbled there, nails digging deep. Regulus’ hands flew up to stop your ministrations at the sight of the worsening redness, but your whole body physically flinched away from him in a way he was sure must hurt.

Regulus was lost.

“I don’t understand. Why would Mulciber write that? You’re not a–” He cut himself off, scared of what word would slip off his tongue. “You’re not muggleborn.”

Finally, you looked up and met his eyes. Your fearful, heartbroken expression seemed to soften at the sight of him and you gave him the saddest smile that did not reach your eyes. “I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper.

Realisation dawned on him. 

“Your father…?” 

His half-blood best friend turned lover, who he already had not dared tell his parents about, living with her muggle mother after her wizard father passed away. It was a convenient story in times of tension and division. Death is an easy excuse, hard to verify.

Although, clearly, someone had now, and the truth had come out.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered once more through a sob. Your shoulders were hunched and knees drawn close to your body. You looked like you wanted to disappear. 

It took him a greater amount of strength than he was proud of to push the shock and confusion from the forefront of his mind and pull back up the memories of how to comfort. To focus on those and not the million of questions running through his head.

What does this mean? Why didn't you tell him? Have you been hiding from everyone, or just him? How have you been carrying something so scary and he was none the wiser? Is there an award for shittest boyfriend at Hogwarts that he can be looking forward to?

Regulus reached out for you and pulled you slowly into another hug, arms circling securely around your back. Your body stilled in his grasp, apart from the small heaves for air in between your sobs.

“What are you doing?” Your whisper was muffled into his shirt. Your frail voice and tense limbs cut him deeper than any spell could.

“I'm comforting you, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair. “Or at least trying to.”

“Why?” you asked miserably. 

Regulus pulled back just far enough to see your face, making sure his arms were still holding you with love, drawing patterns across your back.

"Because I love you," he whispered intently. His eyes tried his hardest to lock on yours, but you still would not meet his gaze. "Because there is nothing to be sorry for."

Your expression grew incredulous, bordering on angry – if it was with him, yourself or the world he was uncertain. "I've lied to you. I've deceived you into a relationship you wouldn’t have agreed to had you known, I– I’ve put you in an impossible position–” You had to cut yourself off as another sob tore through your body. “I’m so sorry.”

Regulus shuffled impossibly closer to you and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, thumbs stroking slowly across your cheekbones. He felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight in front of him, anxiety rising at his chest as he struggled to find the words he knew the situation called for.

This was all unknown territory for Regulus. The two of you had had as few conversations about blood status as possible, both weary about the growing tension at school and in the wider wizarding society. You had held him the one time he dared cry in front of you over a particularly harsh letter from his mother. You had whispered sweet nothings about you're not them and I will always love you, but he thought they were just that – nothings. In turn, you had mentioned your parents and cried over your father a handful of times, but never divulged too much. He had weaved his way through comments from other pureblood students at school regarding his relationship with a half-blood, but most pureblood families have lapses with a half-blood here or there that he could usually throw back in their faces to silence them. No one dared push it further than that. When Andromeda left the family for Ted, he almost had to confront it all, confront what he now knew to be lies that had been spewed to him all his life, but even then, he managed to avoid it as he instead received the beating of his life for not alerting the family about the signs he must have seen at school. He let himself simmer with that pain instead of looking inwards, instead of seeking help. He figured he didn’t have to, not just yet.

That time had evidently passed, as he now held a sobbing and defiled sun in his hands.

No, this was uncharted territory for him entirely – but he could not afford to let it stay like that.

“My love, Y/N,” he said with a surprisingly steady voice, never letting his gaze stray from you. “Please, please listen to me. Please hear me. You are everything; it is you, you are everything. You could be muggleborn, muggle, werewolf, siren or fae. It would not change anything.”

Your eyes met his, red rimmed and glossy, confused and bewildered. This time it was your turn to whisper, “I don’t understand.”

“It is difficult–” Regulus’ voice broke as the first few tears slipped down his face. “It is all so difficult right now, I feel lost and… scared and I don’t know what to do.” The words almost clogged in his throat, like barbed wire to admit, but he knew he had to. “I should have told you all of that already, I should have shared with you so you could feel safe to share with me. I haven’t known what to do, how to do it. The one thing I do know is that I love you and I need you to be safe and I need you to be here with me. I have not been deceived, for I would always choose you.”

Your eyes were wide, but you were not crying at the moment, gaze flitting all across his face, as if to ensure he wasn’t lying, hanging onto his every word. It was the motivation he needed to continue.

“You are not allowed to be sorry, amour, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” A small sob escaped him and his heart flipped when your right hand came forth to just barely touch his shoulder. “I should have been here for you, you shouldn’t have to hide. You should never have had to question my love for you, my loyalty. It will always lay with you, I swear it. Gods–” a heaved breath “– I’m terrible at this, you know I’m terrible, but I’ve been trying so hard for you and I will continue to. Just please let me. Let me and I will try.”

“Regulus…” you whispered, hand creeping from the brush against his shoulder to settle on the side of his neck. 

He looked at you, ready to take any reaction you would give him, to tell him off for his horrible apology, for making things about him, for not being enough. Your mouth opened and closed as if you couldn’t settle on the words. Instead you let out a small breath and pulled him back into you in a tight embrace.

It took him not even a second to hold you in return with passion, hands appraising as they swept up into your hair and around your waist. 

“Do you mean it?” you whimpered into him and he let his forehead fall to your shoulder as he cried.

“Of course, I mean it. Of course, of course.” He kept muttering it into you as he held you tighter and tighter.

His body was filled with an entirely new set of fear. A warm one that spread through his blood at the thought of what you had to face. Mulciber already knew and had taken action on that knowledge seemingly without hesitation. Regulus had heard what was being said amongst the Sacred 28, he knew to what degrees the hatred was building. His entire body was built on fear as he held what he now realised could be disturbingly fragile.

That is, until you whimpered another question into his hold and his body ached with a love so deep he had never thought it possible.

“Do you still love me?”

He had already said so, but he would happily say it again, over and over, damning himself for allowing you to wonder. “Yes, amour, always. Always.” 

Regulus took your face in one of his hands again, cradling you as he brought his forehead back to yours. Angling his face forward, he pressed what he hoped was a sweet kiss to your lips. It was wet, metallic and everything he needed. 

“I’m sorry for lying,” you whispered. He shook his head against yours.

“No, I’m sorry for stalling.”

A beat of silence. “Stalling what?” He thought you knew, but he tried to have no qualms about being explicit about it.

“Leaving.” He said it simply, hoping it would will it to be.

This time it was your turn to shake your head. “Can you leave, though? Safely? They’re becoming more and more fanatical, Reg, what if they hurt you? I’ve seen the letters.”

The fact that you have experienced what can only be classified as a hate crime, yet you have the goodness in your heart to worry about him in this way only makes him more certain of his choice.

“I have to, my love. I have to. It’s time.” He took a deep breath. “I will… I will ask Sirius for help.” 

You looked into his eyes, vision blurry from your proximity. “I’m scared for you, but I’m so proud of you at the same time.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” Regulus tried to huff out a small laugh, but it just came out teary. “Will you please come with me?”

“To Sirius?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

His hand on your squeeze pressed further into you, reverent. “We can ask for help for us both. They practically wanted Ted dead when they disowned Andromeda, and she was not even the sole heir. I’m so sorry for putting you in that situation, I–”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you assured, voice more stable and beautifully soft. “You are everything to me too, you know.”

“I’m scared,” Regulus whimpered. It’s the first time he can remember saying that out loud to someone since he was 6.

“I’m scared, too. But less so, now that I know I still have you. I couldn’t handle losing you, Reg.” Your eyes teared up again and he leaned up to kiss the corners of your eyes sweetly, collecting the tears before they had a chance to spill.

“You have me, you have me,” he whispered almost feverishly against your skin. “And I’ve got you.”

You sighed, the closest to contently you think you can get at this moment. “Will you please help me?” you whispered as you looked down at your hands.

Regulus shook himself out of his mini spiral, shook off that first voice in his head that reared its head once more and over and over, shook off anything that was not you. He mumbled an of course against your cheek before he kissed it, taking your hands in one of his. 

Unsheathing his wand he never managed to retrieve the first time around, he took one last look at the ugly markings on your hands – the hate was precisely that, ugly, and it had no place on your skin. Starting with the left – MUD – he tried the first spell he knew, and it did nothing. The bile rose in his throat as he went to try the next, fearing the worst, but by the grace of a nonexistent god, the letters finally melted away. He repeated the process on the other one.

You tried to pull your hands out of his grasp at that, but his hold tightened. He healed the viscous red streaks and peeling skin from where you had scratched at them, a cold sensation soothing over your skin as he moved his wand. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the gentleness, but you found yourself beginning to become completely dehydrated.

Regulus brought your hands up to his lips while he put his wand away to grasp at them with both hands. He kissed the spots he had just cleared up. Long, lingering kisses in the middle of your hand, followed by soft butterfly kisses all over it. His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing tightly, giving the flesh new sensations to remember instead.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered, almost like a revelation. You had loved him and you had trusted him, you had just not trusted that it would be forever, that it would be more than any loyalty to his family. You were ashamed at the thought now, as you looked at the boy on his knees in front of you, crying from loving you, kissing away your pain. It filled you with something you had not believed this day would hold for you – hope.

“I’m not,” he whispered, letting your hands settle together in your lap. “But I hope to be. I want to be. I will be.”

You smiled wetly at him and leaned forward to kiss him once more. Originally intended as a peck, the kiss grew deeper, a slow passion as you held his lips between yours, feeling the love seep through the thin skin. He continued pressing kisses all over your face, much like your hands. Any teary or red skin had his lips faintly brushing over it, taking his time to dote on you. You let your breath calm down in the meantime, panic and tension slipping away from you to be replaced by a deep exhaustion as you leaned into him.

He noticed – he had to notice, swore he always would from now on.

“Are you ready to lay down in bed, amour. Face the light?” He smiled sheepishly at the poor attempt at a joke. You seemed surprised as you looked around, almost like you had forgotten you were in a shadowy dorm bathroom.

“Only if you will lay with me.” Your tone was nearing teasing, though not quite there. He was determined to achieve it within the hour.

“I promise,” he whispered, kissing you one last time before helping you up.

And he would go on to help you to bed and hold you tight for as long as you would let him. He would listen to you cry and laugh and worry without a second thought. He would take you with him to ask Sirius for help on escaping and keeping you safe and he would devote himself to being better. He would do anything for you – because you were, after all, everything.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |5|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.1k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

You leaned back in the steel chair, tapping your fingers on the metal table, as you stared blankly at the giant mirror taking up the wall across from you. You knew it was a two-way mirror and even though you only had the brief interaction with defective Bailey you were sure he was on the other side. Cops like him liked to toss someone in an interrogation room and then leave them for anywhere from ten minutes to over an hour, just to see how they would react. You weren’t being charged with anything, it’s not like they had anything on you, but you stayed seated because you just wanted to get this over with.

You tried not to shift too much, every movement pulled at your stitches. It wasn’t the worst injury you had gotten in your life; you had most definitely experienced a lot worse. The issue was it was in an annoying spot. The bastard had stabbed you right between the ribs, you knew you were lucky, if it had gone any deeper or had been at a different angle it would be a different scenario, you would have still been at the hospital and probably had surgery. None of that stopped the fact that because of where it was any time your ribs moved, therefore anytime you breathed, it pulled at your stitches. Your therapist wouldn’t like it, but you would be more than happy to point out this exact situation is why being used to pain was beneficial.

“Sorry for the wait,” Bailey said, entering the interrogation room with a thick file, stuffed so full, papers were sticking out of the top of it.

You had to give him credit, he even managed to make himself breathless as if he had been running here. The giveaway though was that there wasn’t a drop of sweat on him, meaning he was most likely on the other side of the mirror in the cool air-conditioned room, that was if the interrogation room was anything to go by, they had the AC cranked up.

“No worries,” you said, giving him a small smile.

Bailey gave a little awkward smile as he sat in the steel seat across from you, sitting the file on the table between the two of you. He wasn’t trying to let it show but it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about your nonchalant attitude. If he had made anyone else wait over half an hour just for a questioning, they would have surely thrown a fit, almost everyone at least.

“Shall we get started?” He asked.

“You’re the one with the questions,” you said, giving him a little shrug.

“What were you doing at the gym so late?”

“Working out. It’s a twenty-four gym.”

“Do you always workout so late?”

“Preferably. Less distractions.”

“But you were at the gym the day before,” Bailey flipped a paper up, as if he were referencing his notes. “But much earlier.”

“Sometime workouts require a partner. I go earlier when I meet up with friends.”

“But you usually prefer to work out alone.” It didn’t come off as a question, but you nodded anyway. “And you just happen to cross paths with Samantha Carpenter that night.”

You shrugged. “We overlap a lot; guess we have similar schedules.”

“So, it’s just a coincidence, you being at the gym the same time Sam is attacked by Ghostface?”

“Guess I was in the right place.” You knew you shouldn’t, but you gave him a little smirk. He had nothing on you, you were at the gym, that wasn’t a crime, and you happened to save Sam from a psycho, which was usually a good thing.

Bailey breathed out a little chuckle. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Believe what you want.”

Bailey quietly chuckled to himself before leaning back in his chair, flipping the file closed. “Fine,” he shrugged. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth.” You had to suppress an eye roll, but you were willing to see where Bailey was going with this. “Tell me what happened.”

You let out a sigh and leaned back in your own chair, shifting when your wound started to ache at the previous angle. “I went to the gym, did my workout, I was finishing up in the showers and as soon as I turned off the water I heard a struggle,” you began to explain calmly. “I walked back into the gym to see some freak in a mask standing over Sam with a knife, I just reacted.”

Bailey let out an amused hum. “Just reacted,” he mumbled more to himself than you. “That reaction,” he said the word like he didn’t believe it. “Involved you holding your own against the attacker, taking their knife from them, getting stabbed, and still managing to continue trying to fight back.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “It’s not in me to just sit back and do nothing. I wasn’t about to let Sam get hurt and I wasn’t about to just lay down and die.”

“And all this is with what, no training?” Bailey raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched up ever so slightly, Bailey had absolutely no idea who you were and what you were capable of, it was honestly amusing. “No one is that good just from boxing a few days a week at the gym.”

“They are,” a new voice came. You and Bailey both turned to see a blonde woman had interrupted the interrogation. She held a file of her own as she stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut, then she leaned back against it with her arms crossed. “Though, it’s not from boxing.”

You tilted your head, taking in the new arrival. She wore a leather jacket and jeans; her overall look was much more casual than Bailey with his collared shirt and tie. Even without the look, you were certain this woman wasn’t a detective, but she was definitely someone, the way she carried herself, just waltzing into the interrogation showed what sort of power she had. Bailey didn’t seem to recognize her, which meant she didn’t work at this station, meaning she wasn’t his captain or an immediate superior of his. You were actually willing to bet she wasn’t a cop at all, she held more authority than a cop or a detective, you were going to guess she was federal.

“Who the hell are you?” Bailey asked, shooting forward in his chair.

You glanced back and forth from Bailey to the woman. Bailey was fuming, even more than when he was first talking to you. The woman didn’t even look at him though, her eyes hadn’t left you and there was a slight smirk on her lips. She knew something Bailey didn’t, something about you. You figured you knew what she knew, meaning she was definitely federal.

“Agent Kirby Reed,” the woman now known as Kirby introduced herself. She held your gaze for a minute before finally looking at Bailey. “FBI.” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, you called it.

Bailey just scoffed at that. “You’re taking over my case?”

“Look, I have information you clearly don’t.” Kirby held out her hands as if to show Bailey she wasn’t a threat. “I’d rather work together than this become a power struggle,” she gestured between herself and Bailey.

Bailey clenched and unclenched his jaw, tapping his fingers on the table as he mulled over Kirby’s offer. Kirby might not have wanted a power struggle, but you were still enjoying the show.

“What do you got?” Bailey finally sighed.

Kirby turned to you with a small smirk. She dropped her file in front of herself down on the table, then leaned forward as she rested both hands on said table. “Y/N here is special forces,” Kirby said.

You couldn’t help but return her smirk, she was already so much more fun than Bailey. “Still active,” Kirby added.

“Who cares!” Bailey rolled his eyes. “If anything, that just makes them more likely to be Ghostface.”

You ignored Bailey, as much as you wanted to shoot him a glare you opted for continuing your staring contest with Kirby. She had the same thought it seemed, because Kirby’s gaze never wavered. “What are you doing in New York?”

“Vacation,” you said simply, even adding a little shrug and smile.

Kirby pushed off the desk and nodded as she crossed her arms again. “Mind if I question them for a bit?” she still didn’t bother looking at Bailey as she asked the question.

Bailey sighed as he stood up and grabbed his file without a word. He didn’t stop and look back at you until his hand was on the door handle. “Goodluck,” he flicked a glance at Kirby. “This one isn’t much of a talker.” Without waiting for a response, he turned the knob and left the room. You were sure he was going to the room right next door so he could watch through the mirror as Kirby questioned you now.

“That’s not a surprise,” Kirby sighed as she moved around the table. She dragged the folder she had brought in, so it was in front of the chair as she pulled out the chair to sit down. “It is how you were trained,” she flicked a glance up at you.

You only smiled at her comment. You weren’t much of a talker, you could talk, it was actually part of your job when on missions but sitting and waiting was also a part of said job. You were trained to remain strong, to not show fear, and to keep your mouth shut when captured though. You knew you weren’t captured; you could walk out the door any time, the mentality of not telling these people anything was still there though.

“You have quite the resume,” Kirby mumbled. She flipped open her file and began flipping through the various pages. You didn’t bother trying to sneak a peek, you knew what was in there, it was your life after all. “I assume,” Kirby gave a little shrug. “It’s a little hard to tell,” she continued to flip through the papers. “There’s a lot of black.”

She turned the file around and held it up for you to see. You chuckled quietly at the file. Kirby clearly did her research, she got various papers and reports on you but every single paper she flipped through was blacked out. There were a few words here and there, usually your name, that weren’t blacked out. Kirby was FBI but even she didn’t have clearance to see your profile or your missions.

Kirby turned the file back around. “How is your address confidential?” Kirby asked more to herself than you, letting the papers flop back down. She glanced up at you and you just shrugged. “Why are you really here?” she asked again.

“I live here.”

“Awfully far from North Carolina.”

“I’m on leave.” You readjusted in your seat again, no matter what position you were in, eventually the stab wound started to hurt. “Decided to spend it at home.”

“You just happened to take your time off when Sam and the others all moved to town?” Kirby leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms as if she were having the most casual conversation in the world.

“Can’t really control when you’re injured,” you snapped.

“How were you injured?”

“Classified.”

“Where were you injured?”

“Classified.”

“On a mission?”

“Classified.”

“What is it you do exactly?” Kirby whispered, leaning forward as if she were asking you to share a secret between just the two of you and not in a room in a police station where everything you said and did was being watched and recorded.

You leaned forward, close enough to Kirby as if you were going to whisper in her ear. “Classified.”

Kirby slumped back in her chair. “You are no fun,” she grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Kirby seemed to agree with Bailey but neither of them was the first to say such a thing to you. You heard how you were always too serious all the time. It wasn’t true though the only people who seemed to learn just how much fun you could be was your friends who were also in the military.

Kirby tapped her fingers on the table as she stared at you. You just stared back, keeping your hands nicely folded on your lap. “You’re free to go,” Kirby said.

You gave Kirby a tight-lipped smile and got up from your seat, not wasting anymore time as you flung the door open. You bushed past Bailey, barely sparing him a glance as he came out of the room next door. “You’re just letting them go?” you heard him whisper harshly at Kirby.

“There’s nothing to hold them on,” Kirby sighed.

You didn’t bother looking back at them as you made your way through the precinct and to the front lobby. Your movements faltered when you saw Sam and her sister sitting in a couple of chairs in the lobby. Sam looked up and had to do a double take when she seemed to notice you, almost instantly jumping to her feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked, coming to stand in front of you.

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging off the question. “What are you doing here?” you tilted your head. You figured you wouldn’t see Sam again if you were being honest, except maybe at the gym, assuming everyone made it out of this whole psycho killer thing.

Sam opened her mouth to answer you, but it snapped closed when she looked at something past your shoulder. “Kirby?” she asked. You furrowed your brow; you definitely didn’t expect that.

“Sergeant,” Kirby called, making you turn your attention back to her. “Don’t leave town.” You nodded; it wasn’t like you had anywhere else to go anyway.

“Sergeant?” you caught Sam whisper.

“Sam,” Kirby sighed, when she finally got to your side. “It’s good to see you, wish it were under better circumstances.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, pulling Kirby into a hug.

“I’ve been investigating Ghostface killings all over the country, this is the first time one actually seems real.”

“You two know each other?” Detective Bailey asked, coming up behind Kirby.

“We went to high school together,” Sam answered.

“We have a shared history,” Kirby said at the same time.

You tilted your head, there definitely seemed more to it than just going to high school together. Not that you cared, all you wanted to do was go home, which is exactly what you planned on doing.

“Wait,” Sam said, reaching out to grab your arm almost as soon as you moved to brush past her. “Come back to our apartment.” You were taken aback, there wasn’t a lot that could catch you off guard.

“Sam,” her sister whispered harshly, grabbing Sam by the arm and forcing her to turn around. Her sister was short, but it was clear she had a lot of fire in her. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah, are you sure about that?” Kirby questioned. “You know how these things go,” she leaned to whisper in Sam’s ear but spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes,” Sam confirmed. “I’m sorry but you’re involved in this now. It’s safer if we all stick together.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said, moving to turn back around.

“Please,” Sam reached out, gently resting a hand on your arm and stopping you in your tracks once again. “I’d feel better if you were there. You got stabbed for me, I wouldn’t be able to handle it if we left you on your own and Ghostface got you.” You tilted your head as your eyes searched hers. She wasn’t lying to you, but you could tell there was more, there was another reason she wanted you to join them, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Bailey said, cutting through whatever was going on between you and Sam. “We still can’t rule them out as a suspect.” You flicked a glare at Bailey. “And they’re practically a trained killer.” You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at Bailey for a moment before looking back at Sam.

Your eyes instantly softened when they landed on her. “Okay,” you rasped out. “But I need to stop at my place first.” Sam opened her mouth, most likely argue against that, but you gave her a look, telling her you were going back to your place, or you wouldn’t be joining them at all.

“Fine,” Sam sighed. “But I’m going with you.” You paused as you thought about it for a moment, it had been a long time since you had anyone besides your army buddies over at your place. After a moment of consideration you nodded, it wasn’t like you would be there long anyway. You just had a couple things to grab and take care of, you had a feeling whatever you got dragged into wasn’t going to be wrapped up within a day. “Kirby, can you take Tara back to our apartment?”

“What?” Tara snapped, cutting off whatever Kirby was about to say. “No! I’m going with you. We stick together, remember?”

“Not this time,” Sam shook her head. “I’m not brining you to an unknown location at a strangers house.” You couldn’t help but shrug, it was a good idea, despite inviting you over to their apartment for all they knew you could be involved with the masked psychos.

Tara stared up at her sister, clearly trying to will her to change her mind. It obviously didn’t work, and Tara rolled her eyes as she finally conceded. “I’ll get her home safe,” Kirby said, resting an arm on Sam’s shoulder.

Kirby nodded to the front door and Tara began to follow but not before Sam pulled her in for a tight hug. “Nothing better happen to my sister,” Tara warned as she walked past you. You had stared down plenty of killers, war lords, the worst the world had to offer, but you couldn’t deny Tara’s look was intimidating. You didn’t know what she was capable of, but you didn’t have a doubt in your mind that if anything happened to Sam Tara would have no problem killing someone over it.

“Shall we?” Sam asked once, Tara and Kirby had walked out the front door. You gave a nod and gestured for Sam to lead the way out of the building. You just wanted to go home and rest, now you were in for what surely would be a long weekend.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

[charliemwrites]

Talked about this with @ceilidho last night and it’s making me Insane,

Neighbor!Johnny.

His parents have moved to be closer to his sisters and their children, leaving him their gorgeous house to crash at during leave.

When he moves in, you bring him a batch of cookies, welcoming him to the neighborhood and telling him to stop by if he needs anything. Something in his eyes flickers as he takes you in, sundress and sneakers.

“Cookies aren’t the only sweet treat here,” he drawls, grinning.

Your neighbor Johnny who leans folds his massive arms over your fence when he catches you out by the pool. You don’t have your towel or a coverup because it’s your own backyard, but it’s fine! There’s a fence between you two and anyway he’s just coming to say hi.

Johnny who tsks when you tell him your husband went on another business trip without fixing the AC. You don’t want to call someone over while you’re home alone. Not to worry - Johnny is handy with wires and he’ll fix it for free. And while he’s here… that cabinet too, aye? And the shower drain that’s a bit clogged?

You don’t notice that a couple of your photos are missing from an album you keep in the basement with the heater. Or the lotion from your cabinet is gone - your husband probably tossed it. Definitely don’t notice the very very slight change in consistency of your body soap.

One day you’re just home from groceries and Johnny stumbles out of a taxi. He’s got a big black duffel bag, still in uniform. There’s dirt in his mohawk and streaky paint on his face.

“Bonnie,” he sighs, making a beeline for you. “Missed you. Give us a hug? It was a rough go.”

And of course you hug him - least you can do for a man risking his life to keep the rest of the world safe!! You dont notice the smudges he leaves on your cheek until your husband points it out when he gets home.

Your husband…

Johnny doesn’t let Ryan call him Johnny; he introduces himself as “Soap.” You figure it’s a guy thing, giggling about the callsign while Johnny grips bruises into your husband’s soft white-collar hands.

He doesn’t like Johnny. Says it’s weird how he’s always hanging around.

Not always, you correct, he only gets a couple weeks of leave at a time.

And he spends as much of it as he can with you. It’s nice, though, to have company while you futz with housewife chores and pretend to anticipate your husband’s return home.

Johnny’s good company! He listens with rapt attention to the rambles your husband barely even pretends to hear. He doesn’t call your crime podcasts creepy, or your tv shows noisy.

(In fact, he listens a bit too closely. If you paused while cooking or cleaning, you’d notice the feverish light in his eyes. Certain turns of your tongue make his thighs twitch).

When you’re having a bad day, venting to Johnny about it over a cup of coffee, he listens, nods, clicks his tongue.

“He best take care of that when he gets home.”

You don’t get what he means, and the next day when you’re still annoyed, he shakes his head.

“All pent up still, eh? He not taking care of you right?”

You fluster and swat at him, remind him you’re not one of this army bros he shouldn’t be so crass. He keeps making those comments. You just roll your eyes and wave him off - but never correct him because it’s true.

One day your husband is home when Johnny stops by. You got something stuck in the sink drain and need him to get it - knew Ryan wouldn’t call in a reasonable time to save it.

When he comes in, Johnny drops a kiss on your cheek before going for the kitchen. Knows exactly where it is, you two have a standing brunch date there.

Johnny listens to you talk while he works, fusses at you for trying to hand him his dirty tools. Goes into your fridge, grabs a can of soda and a peach. Reminds you that you’re running low on yogurt while he licks juice from his fingers.

When he’s done, he drops one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, big hand anchoring you by the hip. You walk him out, promising to let him look at that rattling noise your car has been making the next day.

It starts a fight. Ryan is furious that Johnny is so comfortable in “his” house. You shake your head, tell him that you’re just as comfortable at Johnny’s but that only seems to set him off more. He tells you that it’s not normal, that Johnny is being inappropriate and you’re letting him.

You scoff and roll your eyes, tell him that he’s being insecure, that you only have eyes for him. He ends up storming out, presumably to go stay at his brother’s.

Thirty minutes after he’s gone, there’s a knock at the door. You know it’s Johnny. You almost answer it. But Ryan’s accusations ring in your head and dig a guilty pit in your stomach. You go upstairs, pretending you didn’t hear it. Or any of the others for the half hour after.

[cosmicpearlz]

my love is mine, all mine (pt 2)

summary: more glimpses of your relationship with jude!

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: i’m having too much fun writing these scenarios lol

~one~

you rarely ever get into arguments with jude but when it does happen, it’s terrible on everyone’s part. this particular moment was about him not spending enough time with you.

“so you’re saying i can’t hangout with my friends? because that’s what it’s sounding like.”

“jude, that’s not what i’m saying! i’m just saying that it would be nice to have a day with just us. i feel like i’m left on a back burner right now.”

“we do hangout. i mean, i’m here right now but you wanna spend the time arguing!”

“tell me the last time we had a day to ourselves! please enlighten me,” you were beyond frustrated and your head was hurting from all the yelling.

“stop being so fucking clingy. i see you at home every night! we don’t need to be together 24/7.”

you felt your heart throbbing from the pain of hearing those words. is it really such a crime to want quality time with someone you love? between his training sessions and your job, there hasn’t been much alone time.

“okay. my apologies for wanting my boyfriend here with me. i won’t ask again,” you took a step back, looking down to possibly stop the tears. it didn’t work. the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

jude instantly regretted saying that. he understood completely where you were coming from but the stubbornness in him clouded his judgement.

“baby, i’m-“

“i don’t wanna talk to you jude.”

-

it’s been hours since he last saw you. jude already made the guest room into his bed for the night and found himself restless. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but he couldn’t sleep without you near. even if you guys weren’t cuddling, at least his hand could be on you in some way. so he tossed and turned until he had enough.

jude makes his way to the room door, raising his hand to knock when the door swings open. it startles the both of you. leaving you to stare at each other in silence. jude noticed the dry tear streaks that laid on the apple of your cheeks. it made him feel worse.

“you really hurt-“

“i’m sorry bab-“

speaking at the same time wasn’t uncommon for you two, causing the both of you to let out a breathy laugh.

“you can go first honey,” his light whisper fell into the air as if he were too scared to talk any louder.

“jude, you really hurt my feelings earlier. i just wanted to spend time with you and you made it seem like i was asking for a million dollars or something bigger. i didn’t feel heard during our conversation but unfortunately i can’t sleep without you. so i was coming to drag you to bed even though i’m still very mad at you.”

“baby i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. i want you to know that i don’t mean it. hell, everyone knows i’m the clingy one! you’re the love of my life and i would spend days mending whatever hurt i caused,” his hands came to rest on your cheeks, fingers softly swiping at the dry tear stains.

“can we go to bed now? i’m exhausted and we can finish talking in the morning,” jude nods in response to you and kisses your nose.

“yeah, let’s go to bed m’love.”

~two~

“hey babe!”

jude looks up from his ipad upon hearing your voice through the phone. he was in germany for match and of course, he asked you to go with him. saying something along the lines of being his good luck charm. you couldn’t originally get the off time from your job.

“i miss you so much.”

“jude, baby you’ve been gone for like two days.”

“and your point is?”

“okay, whatever you say. anyways, i got a package for ya! just open the door.”

the boy failed to realize how close your face was in the camera and how you whispered. you had surprised him by coming to germany, being that your boss changed her mind and let you go. it wasn’t like you asked for off time a lot anyways.

“what?”

“can you open the door baby?”

jude jumps off the bed and practically leaps to the door. swinging it open to find you with a toothy smile. he rushes to hug you, bending down to your hight and pulling you into his arms.

“you said you couldn’t come!”

“surprise! my boss decided to let me take the time off last minute. i found the first flight here.”

“how’d you get to the hotel? i would’ve picked you up.”

“it wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”

he detaches himself from you to grab your bag, then grabbing your hand, walking you inside. you take a seat on the couch that was sitting in the room and smiled as your boyfriend put your bag next to his.

“i can’t believe you’re here.”

“well believe it,” jude sat next to you and began pressing kisses into whatever inch of skin he could get to.

“babe relax,” you say, in between giggles as he continued his work down to your neck. only getting off you when you pushed his shoulder back.

“i just missed you.”

“it’s been two days!”

“so what.”

~three~

you’ve become familiar with jude being your passenger princess. you never minded, it was just nice having someone to drive with. so, you took him on another one of your side quests. thrifting.

“i hope i find something good this time. last time we went, it was a bunch of bullshit.”

“i’m kinda hoping i see something i like,” you gasp into response to him, quickly looking at him and then looking back at the road.

“woah, thee jude bellingham is interested in thrifting?”

“oh come off it.”

“i’m just saying! i literally never heard you say anything like that. just making sure my ears heard correctly,” you give him a teasing smile.

“i will jump into oncoming traffic.”

“no you won’t.”

“i swear i will.”

“i’m calling your bluff.”

the silence in the car became loud as you both tested one another.

“no i won’t.”

“ha! i knew it.”

“whatever, drive faster loser. all the good stuff are gonna be gone.”

~four~

you wake up finding the bed empty. jude’s side is made up, totally not uncommon. you figured he was at training and got out of bed to get something to eat. as you walked to the kitchen, you find your boyfriend with his bare back towards you.

“good morning darling,” he turns his head to face you with a small smile.

“good morning. what’s all this?”

“i wanted to cook for you! training was canceled today because of a family emergency. i was gonna surprise you in bed but of course you had to wake up early.”

“that’s very sweet of you,” you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. pressing your front into his back, hugging him as tight as you could. you leaned up to kiss the back of his shoulder blade before stepping away.

“let’s spend the day inside.”

“are you sure jude? i know today is my off day but you don’t have to stay in with me.”

“i want to.”

jude plates the food and sits it on the dining room table. you follow close behind and go to grab your chair. instead, jude pulls out your chair for you. pushing you in before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. sitting down next to you, you both began to eat. a comfortable silence fills the room as you both ate. his free hand resting on your thigh, caressing the skin beneath his fingers.

“i love you so much. thank you for this.”

“you shouldn’t have to thank me. i’m your boyfriend, it’s a job of mine to make sure you’re feeling loved at all times.”

“trust me, i feel all the love right now.”

“it still wouldn’t be enough to express how much i truly am in love with you darling.”

“don’t get sappy on me bellingham,” you teased, watching his face attempt to hide a smile.

“oh we wouldn’t want that,” he plays along and kisses your cheek, making you both laugh in the process.

[cosmicpoutine]

timbern headcanons (mostly bernard)

some are 18+

bernard named the specials at his restaurant stupid bilogy shit like "mitochondria"

janet used to hum when she was distracted, and tim does that too to calm himself down, and once bernard notices, he starts humming tim to sleep after a long night of patrol.

because of the pain cult, bernard's pain tolerance is stupidly hight so they like to experiment with bdsm, but tim always goes easy because he's scared of triggering bernard.

they tried shibari once, but tim, out of pure bat instinct, would free himself within 5 seconds, so it just wasn't as fun (i mean, he does this for a living come on)

bernard has a bellybutton piercing

when bernard comes over, he makes extra food to make sure tim has left over for a few days.

soon bernard notices steph comes over to steal left overs so he makes even more food, then cass and duke also come over and soon enough bernard is feeding the entire batfam like a bunch of pidgeons

damien is suspiciously approving of bernard, but he's the youngest sibling, so he acts nice around bernard specifically to piss off tim.

bernard thinks damian is the sweetest kid he's ever met

whenever someone asks tim about the B necklace, he just says it's for barbie girl as a joke. eventually, he starts calling bernard barbie.

bernard is an avid listener of ayesha erotica

bernard walks really silently, not enough to catch a bat by surprise, but enough for tim to only notice bernard when he's already in the same room. he learned this from sneaking away from his parents.

tim and bernard go skating together, but bernard prefers longboards

they have adopted the cover art cat, but never named her so they call her "calico"

they did not know calico cats are 99% of the time females, so they referred to calico with male pronouns for the longest time until damian reminded both of them how stupid they are.

when bernard comes off work late, he usually looks for robin so they can have late dinner together in an empty parking lot

most rogues know bernard is connected to robin, but they quickly learn hes crazier than the bats and leave him alone.

bernard still has no filter so he will say insane shit in front of the bats and they all go suspicious of him for at least a week

bernard listens to true crime podcasts

timbern uses their engagement rings as earrings, partially because bernard can't have rings in the kitchen and tim can't wear rings as robin.

tim also wears his parents' wedding rings in the B necklace

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

[skzstoryvault]

Impromptu (Hyunjin, spicy)

Snippet I wrote on the fly

Hyunjin x f!reader

Warnings: smut, athletic sex, Hyunjin has a big dick but knows how to use it, dancer stamina, multiple orgasms

If this is not your thing, please scroll on.

If you're a minor, please scroll on, this is not for you yet.

Please be kind.

If you enjoy the read, please leave a comment or reblog with a few words of your own.

The song you're singing in the beginning is "Van Gogh" by Mette.

***

“... I could be Van Gogh, shorty you could be my muse!” You sang, remembering the tune Spotify played you this morning in the car on the way to work.

No one was in sight, the idols were all practising and the admin folks had a big assembly kind of meeting in the conference room upstairs. You were the only one on your floor and for a moment you allowed yourself to forget you were at work and dared to have a good time. 

“Having a good day, I hear.”

You could recognise that nasal voice anywhere, but you didn’t have to, because its owner, the beautiful Hwang Hyunjin, walks up to you from behind a wall separating two corridors.

“Is it against the rules? Is it even a breach if no one’s here to be bothered by my off key singing?”

“I didn’t think it was off key. I thought it was really cute. You suits always look so stern and distant. Must be all the numbers you deal with.” He offers. 

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to mock you guys and your talent… I just…”

“Hey you were feeling yourself, you’re allowed to have a good time, and not everything is about us.” Hyunjin says, watching you curiously. “Have you done something new to your hair?”

“Uh, yes, I was a brunette until last week. Bleached it all out to grow my natural hair out.”

“It’s striking. I like it.” He says, leaning close to you. Very close.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“Yes, you’re wearing a nice perfume. And I don’t usually like perfume.” 

“It’s not a perfume,” you say. “It’s my overnight deo.”

It’s a foreign notion to Koreans, since their sweat doesn’t stink so they don’t use deodorants. To prevent smelling like a dead horse under the scorching summer sun, you use an overnight deo which smells almost identical to the original smell of Nivea cream. Clean and comforting, but not harsh on the olfactory nerves. 

“Mmm, I love it. Do you have time to go for coffee with me?”

“Sure.”

“My treat. Americano ok?”

***

One thing led to another, but you don’t know exactly how. You just know you somehow made it back home and you’re in the shower, with Hyunjin, and you can still feel his plush, soft lips all over your body, although now they’re on your clit, sucking at it like there’s medals being given out.

You look down, and you nearly pass out. This is a god, and he’s currently on his knees on your shower floor, the water soaking him all over and of course making him at least 10% hotter than usual. He’s looking at you with hunger and adoration, and that’s the kind of look people reserve for their new spouses on their honeymoon, where fucking is the only thing on the agenda. 

His hands are spreading you so he can eat you better, suck on parts of you you normally don’t even know you have, let his tongue sneak and curl into folds and crevices no one ever sees, let alone touches.

You’re like an abandoned house whose owner died a while ago and he’s an heir rummaging around the place for hidden treasures the will might have overlooked. 

He dries you and himself, only enough to not leave puddles and ruin the sheets. 

You want to cry - the sharp, almost frightening pleasure he’s giving you highlights how neglected and starved for touch and attention you’ve been. But no tears come, drowned out by the waves and waves of pleasure making your abs twitch and contract sharply - right before he pulls a squirting orgasm out of you.

“I could do this all day,” he says, his face now dripping wet too and smiling. “I want more.” 

You also feel as though it would be a crime to turn him down. Suddenly grow a moral compass when faced with having him between your thighs. That’s the kind of thing you’d regret on your deathbed. 

Once in your bedroom, he smiles at the cat-print bedsheets.

“Cute. I hope you have spares.” Is his comment, and you feel your womb squeeze in arousal at the idea. Fuck.

You normally don’t do this, you know better than to fuck people from work, and you definitely feel bad at the idea of riding the dick carousel like some men so grossly put it. You’re worried that Hyunjin thinks of you as a whore now, but until half an hour ago you thought he was gay, so maybe your thoughts aren’t the most reliable source of reality. 

You are too ashamed to tell him you love it when he fucks you with just his fingers, but he can likely tell from how slippery you get. You also get surprised by your second orgasm, it’s so easy and so good, different in feeling than the first but still leaving you boneless and floating, while still somehow clinging to Hyunjin and begging him not to stop. 

He takes his time bringing you to a low simmer, the warmth from his kisses and touches seeping under your skin as he again takes his sweet time getting to know every corner of you. Normally, guys are in a hurry to put it in so they can start feeling good for the thirty seconds it takes them to nut.

Hyunjin is truly a god, or one of God’s favourite creations. Even sweating and panting above you, with his hair clinging to his face and neck, he looks straight out of Vogue. 

He kneels up and pulls you in his lap, watching closely as his cock spreads you open, biting his lips and throwing his head back when he feels wrapped in your snug heat. 

“F-fuck, this is that thing. Better than anything else.” He says, and you feel like the words aren’t meant for you. Still, you agree.

Hyunjin is hung and you thought you’d never care either way. But he knows what he’s working with and how to make it pleasurable without causing pain and discomfort first, and that’s sexier than any inch number.

It hits you that you let him hit without a condom, but your insurance does cover emergency contraception. You don’t even fuck enough to need a steady form of birth control, so you’re not as worried. Plus, you know he’s clean, you see all the idols’ personal data at work. 

He holds you through it and comes more like an afterthought, awed at how much he was able to get you off. 

Somehow, the position he has you in, in his lap so he can thrust up into you, with your legs and arms around him, is also helping him last for ages, until the point where he pulls out and turns you around. At first you think he’s just going to hit it from the back, but he pushes you flat on your belly, spreading your cheeks and pushing back in.

You hear him lick something and then you feel the slick pad of his thumb rub across your asshole, which wrings another release from you, making you writhe beneath him like a fish on dry land. He rolls off you to one side, pulling you with him without even pulling out, and lifts your upper leg so he can touch you more, his fingers stroking your clit while he’s still moving inside you.

It’s too much, too much sensation at once after so long going without - he makes you squirt again, and this time you burst into tears too. Your body tries to push his cock out but he keeps moving inside you, making you shake and sob through the almost unbearable pleasure. 

You’re convinced that when you wake, after he’s finally in the mood for some cuddles, you will find him gone, only to have a very awkward year of random bumping into each other at the JYPE offices. 

You still barely believe it. 

But Hyunjin stays. He stays the night, the week, the month, the year and then, finally, the day he stands before you with a ring in a fancy box. 

[itstheghostofmypast]

One More Hour

Idol San x (f)Reader

Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)

Warnings: None

A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs

With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.

She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.

It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.

"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.

"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."

"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."

"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.

"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.

"Tempt me to stay."

Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.

.

"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.

"Shower?"

"Yes please."

With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."

"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.

"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."

"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"

"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."

.

"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.

"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.

"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"

"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.

Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"

"You mean the toothpaste one?"

"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.

"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.

"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"

"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.

"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."

"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"

"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.

"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"

A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"

"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.

"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"

San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.

"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.

"Good choice. The film was shit."

Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”

San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”

His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”

“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”

.

With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.

“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.

“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.

“Is he a good boyfriend?”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Are you into dumb dudes?”

“Have your parents met him?”

“Are they scared of his face?”

It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.

“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.

He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”

“I uh-

“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”

She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”

“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”

Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”

[jezabelle9299]

Moving day S.R x fem! reader

Overture- Reader is moving into a neighborhood where a serial killer is hunting down women living alone, so when the FBI shows up on her doorstep she gets assigned protective custody from one Dr. Spencer Reid

*Includes references to season 1 episode 18 "Someone's watching" but this is season 3 or later

You were finally getting space away from your family, you’d finally saved up enough. You were able to actually buy a small house, as a mortgage payment ended up being cheaper than rent. You may be living it up in a two bedroom now, but you were no heiress. Movers were out of the question, you rented a small moving truck and set out to do a 24 hour moving day. You’d painted, picked up all of your second hand furniture, all of your packed boxes, and changed the locks. You’d just finished moving the first set of boxes inside when a black suv pulled in behind you in the driveway. An older gentleman came out and made a beeline towards you, with a man that looked like he could be his son trailing behind him. 

“My name is Agent Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” You’d lived here a minute and a half and federal agents were knocking on your door. Your mother would have a stroke if you told her, so you focused on the younger guy who was about your age instead of letting your mind spiral with the possibilities of why they’re here. 

“Sure, what can I do for you?” Your attention was pulled from the Dr. Reid, who’d yet to speak, when his colleague spoke up again. 

“Can we come in?” The last thing you wanted was strangers in your house, but they had badges so you felt like you couldn’t realistically say no. Plus they could at least help you unload a couple of boxes while they talked. 

“Sure, but everyone needs to grab a box first, I’m on a bit of a tight timeline.” 

“Understood.” They each grabbed a box, and you did a small internal celebration that they grabbed the boxes of books you’d been dreading carrying inside. You grabbed one of the smaller ones, full of clothes instead. Once you arrived you sat down on the arm of your couch, gesturing for them to sit on the two chairs you’d picked up earlier that day. 

“Thank you for getting those, I appreciate it. What can I do for you?” The younger man spoke up for the first time since he’d been there.

“We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us about the neighborhood.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you. Unfortunately the moving boxes aren’t really for decoration. I’ve lived here for less than a day.” 

“We actually think you could be in a unique position to help, because you haven’t lived here long.You would be more acutely aware of the behavior of your neighbors because you aren’t used to it.” 

“Alright, then by all means, ask away.” The younger man asked almost all of the questions, with the older Agent Rossi taking diligent notes in his notepad. He started with questions of your interactions with your neighbors, but then shifted to the crime that brought him there. Someone had been targeting young women who lived alone in the few blocks surrounding your house. 

“Would you be comfortable coming to the station to be put in protective custody?” You’d say yes in a heartbeat if it was any other day. Especially if it meant being in Dr.Reid’s orbit. You weren’t big into dating, yet there was something–compelling about him. But this was quite possibly the busiest day you’d had in the last year. 

“No, I’m sorry but I can’t. I’ve still got boxes to unpack, furniture to put together, I can’t just pick up and leave.” 

“Understood. Give us just one second.” Agent Rossi chimed in, pulling Dr. Reid aside while you checked your phone. Well, mostly staring at the homepage while eavesdropping on their hushed conversation. They were terrible at whispering.

“Why don’t you stay here with her? You can help us over the phone if we need it, and she fits the victimology.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s a little bit distracting. Maybe you should stay with her.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay with her, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear she wouldn’t even notice I was here if I didn’t talk first.”  

The young man eventually relented, although he still seemed a bit pouty about the whole thing. Then Agent Rossi turned his attention back to you, and you pretended not to have been eavesdropping on the whole thing. You couldn’t tell if he was buying it.

“How would you feel about Dr. Reid offering you protective custody here? You could go about your business, Dr. Reid would just keep an eye out for you.” 

“Yeah that’d be fine, if he’s ok with it? It certainly won’t be interesting, you know, unless someone does decide to kill me.” He paled for a second before realizing it was a joke. You nudged him with your elbow, and then he finally let out a shaky exhale. Not really a laugh, but you’ll take it. Agent Rossi just gave you a smile and pat Dr. Reid on the shoulder. 

“You kids have fun.” Then when the door was mostly closed behind him, he opened it back up to say “Not too much fun.” before laughing to himself all the way to the car. You pulled the tape off of one of the boxes before unloading some of your books onto the shelves you put up that morning. 

“So Dr. Reid, what favor did you owe him to get stuck with me? Did you lose a bet or something?” 

“You–uh, you can just call me Spencer, and why would you think I wouldn’t want to be here?” 

“Why would you? I mean, it must be exciting being in the FBI and all, if it were me I wouldn’t want to babysit a fully grown adult.”

“It’s not babysitting, and I’m happy to be here.”

“Well that’s very sweet. But you're about to regret every life choice that’s led you to this point.” His face stiffened with confusion at that before you laughed teasingly. 

“We have to move my mattress out of that truck. Since you’re here, I’d love to get out of dragging it on a tarp outside.” He actually laughed at that, and you were grateful you could get an actual laugh from him with that stupid of a joke. Maybe you had a chance with him after all. 

You’d just managed to get the mattress on the boxspring in your room, barely. You crashed down onto it in celebration and exhaustion. 

This is the fruit of our labor, and for that I thank you. I think this calls for a drink.” You jumped back up and bounced to the kitchen, with Spencer trailing slowly behind you, still trying to catch his breath. You continued talking to him down through the hallway. “I’m not big into actual drinking so I don’t have any alcohol, but I have water, orange juice, and coffee I think.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d stop going for a second. Before unloading your mattress you unpacked 3 boxes, and unloaded 6, while he could only struggle to keep up. You even found the energy to make conversation while you did it, and he was panting by the end, attempting to talk and lift. He’d never struggled to talk before. Every once in a while he needed to take a break from helping you to help the team, with them calling for whatever random information he could give, yet he was still lagging behind you with every trip back outside. 

“Coffee sounds amazing.” He figured the coffee maker was already set up, with the energy you had, you'd have to have more than he did. And he had 4 cups this morning. 

“Coming right up!” His relief at your pause in momentum was short lived. You made your way back to the living room and started shifting through boxes again. 

“What are you looking for? I thought you wanted to take a break.” 

“The coffee maker, it’s in one of these boxes, I just can’t remember which one. I mostly use it when I have guests.” You peaked his interest with that, there was no way that you just had all this motivation. It was humanly impossible. 

“Do you usually order yours? Or do you have a preference for energy drinks?”  Then you found the box holding the coffee machine and cut it open, laughing just a little bit to yourself at his interrogation-like line of questioning over something so simple. 

“Neither, I’m just not super into it. All of this annoying is 100% natural.” You plastered a cheesy smile on your face as you turned to him, coffee pot in hand. He just furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“I don’t think you’re annoying, but your relentless energy is interesting.” 

“Well thank you, Spencer. I don’t think I have creamer, but I definitely have sugar, so I hope that’s ok?” 

“Sugar is perfect, thank you again.” 

“Of course, thanks for helping me with that mattress, and you know, the whole bodyguard thing you’ve got going on.” You got down one of the mugs you’d recently put away, before passing it, filled with coffee, along with the sugar to Spencer.

“I’ve got to return that truck as soon as we get everything out of it, but I can pick up some food on the way back? And I’ve got movies in one of these boxes. You’re welcome to pick something, I like everything in there.” He chugged the coffee in his hand before moving with you toward the door. 

“Sorry, but protective custody only works when I’m close to you. So as long as you’re still ok with it, I’ll go with you. Also there’s no way I’m letting you pay for dinner after intruding on your space all day.” 

“Alright, then we’d better get started, the sun’s setting soon, and I hate the idea of driving that thing at night.” He gave a short nod and followed you out. You got the rest of the boxes, returned the truck, and picked up your car from the lot. When you went to pick up dinner Spencer, true to his word, insisted on paying. You sat on the floor and ate off the box your coffee table came in, deciding to put it together another day. When you cleaned up and finished unpacking your boxes of books and dvds you told Spencer he could pick a movie. He chose the one sci-fi flick from your collection, and you were not at all surprised. 

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

You weren’t quite sure when it happened. When you had moved to the couch, when you had offered to share a blanket with Spencer, or when you ended up falling asleep propped against his arm, the energy you had all day finally exhausted. The movie was long since forgotten when his phone rang and he answered in a whisper, not realizing the ringtone had already woken you up. 

“Hey Morgan, what’s up?”

“Hey kid, we found him, so you’re free to go. Unless of course, you’d like to stay.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice even through the phone.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Oh forget it, Rossi already told everyone. Look, we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning. Just be at the station at 5 to pack up before we go, now go and make me proud.” You assumed he hung up with the way Spencer let out a long sigh before putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Everything ok?” You mumbled out, alerting Spencer to the fact you were awake and continuing to stay propped against him for your own benefit, before leaning up to stretch and be able to look him in the eye. 

“Everythings fine, we found the person we were looking for, so we’re headed back to Virginia in the morning.” There was an air of sadness to his response, so you thought back on what the other agent said. 

“I know you probably have to get back, but it’s late and you’re welcome to stay here if you like.”

“I really couldn’t, it’s not only an imposition, but really inappropriate. There’s this concept called transference, essentially it’s where you project affectionate feelings onto people who are helping you, or hold some position of authority. I can’t possibly take advantage like that.” He shuffled to get up from your couch, straightening his clothes and grabbing his things to put them in his leather bag. 

“If you don’t want to, that's totally fine, but I wasn’t in danger. It was realistically babysitting more than anything, no one came after me, and nothing bad happened. Also, no offense, but I don’t really think of you or your friend from earlier as ‘Authority’. You’re like my age, and it’s not like you’re cops or anything. You’re federal agents, which is cool and all, but I’m not a murderer, so it’s not like I’m intimidated by you. I like you, but I’m not intimidated by you.” He couldn’t quite form a response, and his thoughts were swimming with the fact that he’d been assigned protective custody by himself twice and he ended up in this situation twice. I mean what are the odds. You were nothing like Lila though, with her he felt nervous all the time, but it was so easy spending the day with you. 

“You like me?” You feigned exasperation, with an over dramatic eye roll, and a cheesy smile. 

“Yes I like you. It wasn’t exactly an accident that I fell asleep on you, and continued to stay there after your ringtone woke me up.” He allowed himself a shocked smile, he wanted to keep his emotions neutral so as not to pressure you, but he couldn’t contain this. 

“Could I maybe get a response? I’m feeling a bit vulnerable here.”

“Sorry, yes of course I like you. I mean, have you seen you? You’re quite possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll stay if you’ll still have me, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What a gentleman–” Just as you were about to tell him that sleeping on the couch was a terrible idea with his height, his phone rang again. 

“Reid.”

“Hey Spence, there’s a problem. We aren’t getting that break after all, and we need to get going now. We’ll brief you on the plane, but we need to go. Now.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Thanks JJ.” He looked at you reluctantly after he hung up. 

“I have to go, but I really want to see you again. Would–Would that be ok?” 

“Of course it would Spencer, I’m just a phone call away.” You pulled out one of the post-its you were using to label boxes and scribbled your number on it. 

“Also at the very least, you know where I live.” You laughed, and he did more of a shaky sigh while shaking his head at you. You opened the door for him, and said your goodbyes, wishing him good luck on whatever it was he was about to do. 

You didn’t need to wait by the phone long, with him calling you to set up your first date that evening. It was a short drive from Quantico to your house, so he was hopeful about his new relationship. He just hoped this would be the last time you needed protection. He’d be there, and he just hoped that was enough for now. 

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!

CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️

A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."

Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.

Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.

Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.

With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?

Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?

Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.

"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."

He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (06)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: brief mentions of crimes (drugs, robbery, abduction), brief mentions of sex and hormones

a/n;; i have risen from the dead, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last updated (4 months 💀) But, please enjoy this chapter and hope that I do not disappear for another few more months until the next update lmao. Also posting this update while I'm on my lunchbreak lmao

You didn��t think that figuring out a place to meetup with Seungcheol would be difficult, but alas, it was. The places Seungcheol had initially suggested were either too far or the price range of their menus could amount to at least a month’s worth of your rent. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him that you had forgotten his parents had their own businesses, which obviously, means money is never an issue for Seungcheol.

After telling him you had to commute to some of the places or either needing to Uber or have Vernon pick you up, Seungcheol found a decently priced cafe near your place with a cosy looking interior design. Having finally settled down on a place to meetup, you now began to stress about an outfit.

You tore through your entire wardrobe before finally panic-calling Aki who agreed to help, on the condition that you tell her everything that will go down at the meetup. You agreed and after hours of outfit try-ons, you settled on a brown oversized sweater, a black pleated skirt, paired together with doc martens loafers.

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” your voice full of uncertainty as you stared at your reflection. Aki, who was on video call on your phone that’s propped up on your dresser, rolls her eyes at your question. “Babes, you’re literally so pretty right now that you could be someone’s gay or bi-awakening. Don’t worry, okay? I'm sure he’s equally nervous of finally seeing you again after what? Almost half a decade?”

“That's a dramatic way to say almost 5 years, but okay.”

“Just be your normal self, ___. Even if he’s changed appearance or physique wise, I'm sure he’s still the same ol’ Seungcheol from more than a decade ago. Well, at least for you, it’s more than a decade.”

“That is true… thanks for helping me out, Aki.”

“Anything for my bestie. Now, go and see your prince charming!”

“Can you and my parents stop calling him my prince charming?” you whined, only for Aki to shoo you through your phone.

“Tell me the deets afterwards! I want all the nitty-gritty - don’t you dare leave anything out!”

Seungcheol got to the cafe an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time. He tried to get some sleep but the adrenaline of being able to see you again kept him up. Sitting at the booth and occasionally glancing at the door, he would try to come up with things to talk about. Of course, he knew he had to explain why he dropped off the face of the earth for years without contacting you. But, he still needed to think of other ways to fix the rift between you both.

“Seungcheol…?”

When he hears his name being called, he lifts up his head and it was as if time had stopped. There you were, shyly standing in front of him as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A few seconds after he realised he was staring, Seungcheol snapped back into reality. “Have a seat, __.” Ushering to the seat across him, flashing you that gummy smile that still sent your heart running for miles.

You did as told and after placing both your orders to the waitress who came over, Seungcheol nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I didn’t know you were friends with Vernon…” he began, “Let alone a best friend since, y’know, Aki.”

“Yeah, I didn't really have a choice when he came up to me with that awful tie-dye during orientation. I was so glad when he got rid of it with how much my eyes were hurting.”

“That's Vernon for you,” he chuckles, “When he said he invited a friend, I was expecting maybe a classmate since Mingyu did the same with him.”

As you fidget, Seungcheol takes notice and leans his elbows on the table, reaching out a hand. “Hey, no need to be scared, okay? I know it’s been years and you’re most likely overthinking things right now, but I'm still me.”

“Where did you go…?” you asked in a shaky voice, “You just… ghosted me and later on, I found out you’ve been in Seoul for a while. Why… why didn’t you try to reach out?”

Withdrawing his hand and thrumming his fingers against the surface of the table, Seungcheol was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “That weekend when I headed to Seoul to check out Pledis, they had told my parents I qualified for one of their pre-u programmes. But, the slots in Korea were full, and if I did want to join the programme, I had to join their partnering unis abroad. They had Carat University in Japan and An Ode University in Melbourne.”

You quietly listened to Seungcheol as he continued.

While he wouldn’t mind waiting for an empty slot to be available in Pledis but, his parents had encouraged him to enrol into An Ode as they had an apartment in Melbourne. In the event he didn’t want to stay on his own, they’d be more than willing to pay for his dormitory. “They said the enrolment opportunities for pre-u programmes like these are rare… And, since I was given the opportunity, they encouraged me to take the chance.”

“… And you did…”

“I missed you like crazy, _. But, I couldn't get your calls or texts, not even reply nor call you back because I had to wait two weeks to be able to get a new phone and sim card. When I finally did get them, you had changed your number…”

Your face went red with embarrassment at the memory. A few days after your return from Jeju, your parents had brought you to go shop for a new phone and you’ve decided to change your number in the process. Since Seungcheol had dropped off the face of the earth at the time, you thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if you had changed your number since what were the chances of him calling you?

Turns out you were wrong.

“When I finished the programme, I stayed in Melbourne for a year and a half for their business course before transferring back to Korea to finish it in Pledis.”

“That was… that was at least two and a half years ago. Seungcheol, are you… are you telling me within those two years you never bothered to even look for me?”

“I did! I went back to Daegu to look for you, but your parents had told me you went to Pledis! I tried finding you all over the place, but for some reason you were never in my line of sight!”

“Wait, wait,” holding up your hand in disbelief to stop him from talking, “you went to see my parents? They never told me anything!”

“I begged them not to tell you!” he defended, “I wanted it to be a surprise! I wasn’t expecting our first meeting after years to be you witnessing me boxing!”

“How did you get into it in the first place though?” you asked, the waitress arriving with a tray of drinks and some cakes, “I heard you’ve been underground boxing for a year now.” Taking a sip from his drink, Seungcheol stared out the window, watching random cars and pedestrians pass by.

“I’ve been underground boxing for two years, actually, when I was back in Melbourne.” he answered. “A senior saw me during one of my Taekwondo matches during pre-u and invited me to try boxing. A few months later, he introduced me to this trainer who was looking to coach someone for a boxing match and everything just kinda fell into place.”

As a blanket of silence fell over the table, you muttered out a small “I missed you…”. Seungcheol gives you a smile, reaching out his hands to hold yours as he brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles – an action that causes you to blush. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

“I expect good food.”

And he replies with a sentence that has the butterflies you thought had died start fluttering again.

“Anything for you, pup.”

“...No…”

“Yes.”

“No… You’re lying…‘

“___, I swear on my life, I am not lying.”

“Ew, Cheol, that’s gross!” You whined, pushing at his shoulder with a disgusted expression, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life – much less a three way you had!”

Seungcheol laughs at your reaction, “Hey, if you think mine’s gross, you sure hear Mingyu’s. Who knew models were so… hormonal.”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!”

After your catch-up lunch at the cafe, you brought Seungcheol to the park near your apartment. The area enroute… was sketchy, to say the least, and that was putting it lightly. If you were to remove the sugarcoating, it looks as though you could get mugged or abducted if you lady luck was having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

“No offence, pup –”

“Non taken.”

“But, at least three blocks of your housing area looks like they’re being used for drug operations. I know you can fight for yourself – I mean, I taught you how to defend yourself when we grew up together. But, have you ever thought about… y’know, moving to a safer area?” 

You had thought about moving out, but with the current rent prices being equivalent to a monthly mortgage payment, the dingy area is the best you got.

“I mean… It can’t be that bad, right…?”

“___, look at the place… I know you value your independence but, surely there are studios or apartments for rent that are safer and more… well lit, y’know?” Seungcheol notices how you began to pick at your nails, a habit he’s noticed when you both grew up and a sign that you were either anxious, nervous or both.

“Budget restraints?”

“Yeah… This is the best I got, Cheollie… Anywhere close to campus is expensive, and a decent apartment is… well… if I had a mortgage, I could pay that off, y’know…? I have a part-time job – I work as a barista at one of the cafes near campus. It pays decently, kind of higher than the usual amount part-timers get per hour but, let’s say I move out and rent an apartment near campus – I wouldn’t be left with much money after paying for rent and the utility bills…”

“Ever thought of getting roommates?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr Choi, I am not a people’s person. Ask Hansol, it took me a year to actually open up to him, even after he’s been introducing me as his best friend for months.”

“Your parents should have property in Seoul, right? Why don’t you stay there instead?”

“Because I’m an only child, Seungcheol. My parents will pay the bills even if I was willing to fork up my own cash!”

Adding on the fact that you had no transport of your own, the dingy little apartment area really did seem like the best option for you – at least, for Seungcheol he was still… iffy (rightfully so, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you).

“Any public transport nearby?”

“There’s a bus stop that’s a 5 minute walk away from my place.”

“Okay…”

What you forgot to mention however, was the lack of reliable or functioning light source of said bus stop to your apartment’s lobby. But, surely, it wasn’t a detail worth mentioning to Seungcheol, you thought to yourself.

“Y’know, I thought your crush on Seungcheol would actually die down within those 5 years of no-contact.” Aki confessed as you typed on your laptop, phone propped up against one of your pen organisers. “I mean, it kind of did? But, instead of you being over over him, it’s more like… it’s more like your feelings weren't as obvious as back then.”

“Was it that obvious though?” you asked, turning your head to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders, “Not gonna lie, you’re pretty good at hiding it. I only noticed it after spending more time with you and noticing the subtle signs. If anyone was observant enough, they’d notice. But, to those that just look over the surface, not really.”

“...Do you think Cheol noticed…?”

“___, I might offend you and almost all the male species out there with this statement but, boys are dumb.” Aki moves her position from her desk to her bed, lying down on her stomach. “You both have been friends since you were kids so he should be picking up the signs. If he doesn’t then he’s either dumb or playing dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you asked, “Do you think he knows I like him and he’s just playing me?”

“You and I both know Seungcheol isn’t like that,” Aki began, “Your well-being is a priority to him – you’re a priority to him. Maybe he’s never thought about it, y’know? You both grew up together, maybe the lines were blurred to him.”

“But… what if he is, and he’s just really good at hiding it?” you asked again, the anxiety and nervousness eating you up as you thought about Seungcheol taking advantage of your feelings.

“___, darling, you and I both know Seungcheol always puts his loved ones above him – he makes them a priority. And, he’s always put you first, even up to the point he dropped off the face of the earth!”

Aki could still see the uncertainty on your face, which by all means, you had every right to feel that way. After all, Seungcheol had gone no-contact for 5 years and a person can change a lot within those 5 years. Who’s to say he actually is just a bastard who would step on people’s heads just to get what he wants. “Why don’t you start spending more time with him? Like the good ol’ times!” Aki suggested.

“Rekindle the friendship, y’know? Sure, you both had a catch up session today, but you and I both know that isn’t enough. 5 years worth of catching up – and not to mention, I need to kick his ass.”

You let out a small laugh, “You’ll need to fly over to do that, Aki.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me, ___.” Aki playfully warns, narrowing her eyes at you and pointing a finger at the screen, “I have the money to do so, and I will.”

“God, Aki…”

"Hey, Seungcheol isn't the only one that would do anything for you and has the money to do so."

[0212] cheollie: hey, ik it's pretty late rn [0213] cheollie: but, i just wanted to text you this before i forget [0213] cheollie: thanks for agreeing to meet up with me today and hear me out about my whole disappearance and lost all contact [0213] cheollie: and i'm really, really, really glad that you still see me as that boy you grew up with all those years ago [0214] cheollie: and i really had a great time catching up with you today [0214] cheollie: and i'll always be here for you if you ever need me, ok?

Seungcheol stared at the text he's about to send out.

i'm always going to be right by your side no matter what

After silently debating with himself, he deleted the draft and set his phone on his nightstand, laying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom - contemplating as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

[igotanidea]

The spell: Dean Winchester x reader

„Sam? This better be important ‘cause I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

“I’m using the emergency line, right?”

“Last time Dean used the emergency line it was about lack of pie. I swear he’s older but acts like a complete child sometimes.” Y/N shook her head not that Sam could see that through the phone.

“Yeah.” He agreed “But I would never….”

“Remember the time when you lost a shoe?”

“That was one time Y/N! And it was…. Under different circumstances…..”

“Oh, relax, I’m just teasing. But seriously, go on and tell me what is this about, cause I really am busy.“

“It actually is about Dean…”

“Oh, I had a feeling this day would be intense. What do we deal with? Demon? Jinn? Shapeshifter? Oh, please tell me it’s shapeshifter, those are my favorites.

“A witch, in fact.”

“Fine by me.” Y/N shrugged, unaware that Sam’s words has a second meaning. Only the prolonging silence on the other side made her a bit suspicious “Sam? You’re still there?”

“Yes.”

“So? Where do we meet? At the motel or at the crime scene?”

“Stop talking like a CSI!”

“I am CSI, Sam! Now again, where do we meet?”

“At the motel. But please…..”

She did not let him finish, since Sam was making her impatient by straining information. So she had no idea what was coming for her.

***

“Guys?” Y/n entered the motel room without knocking and two pair of eyes landed on her figure. Sam was his usual self, calm and collected, sitting by the desk, working. But Dean…. Dean was distracted, in the lack of better word. Pacing around like he was suffering from the sudden fit of anxiety. “What the…..?”

“ Should have listened to me….” Sam muttered, while his older brother took one stride towards her and wrapped his arm around her without any word.

“Um… good to see you too, Dean, but what’s with the PDA?”

“Can I just hold you?” he mumbled, begin so out of character

“Yeah… I mean, sure” she frowned, hugging him back. This was unexpected, to say the least. They have been together for a couple of months now, but the older Winchester were mostly keeping his laid back attitude in the relationship. “But…..” she hesitated, but stopped the question. This was actually pretty nice. Having Dean in her embrace like this, being the one he was turning to. It made her heart stutter a bit.

“But what?” he asked pulling away

“You know what, nevermind” she smiled brightly brushing hair from his face “if you need me….”

“I always need you.” he burst without thinking

“ Oh….” She felt her heart skip a bit. That was definitely new and she wasn’t sure whether she should feel the warmth and happiness or rather get worried about his current state. “Um…that’s nice, Dean.” She hugged him again, at the same time peeking over Dean’s arm, mouthing words at Sam asking for explanation. “How about you sit here for a moment, Dean, huh? I just gotta talk to your brother, who surely owns me some explanation.”

“I don’t want to let go of you…..” Dean pouted

“I’m not going anywhere, I swear” she smiled and pushed him onto the chair next to Sam and talking the third left spot. Dean immediately leaned towards her and grabbed her hand, caressing it gently.

“Y/N…..” he turned towards her, begging for attention, even though she was doing nothing more than giving it to him

“Yes, Deanie?”  her eyes focused on her boyfriend without any sign of annoyance.

“Come sit on my lap.”

“What?” now she was blushing

“Come on…” Dean patted his thigh but seeing her becoming reluctant, just reached for her, grabbed her waist and put her where he needed her, hugging her to his chest from behind.

“Um…’ she muttered, distracted by his hands. He was doing nothing, just holding her and she was already melting. This was dangerous.

“do you want me to leave you two alone?” Sam laughed, but once he met with Y/n’s murderous gaze covered it by coughing

“Talk!” she shout at him “What happened?”

“You remember when I mentioned the witch?” Sam started

“Yes, of course. Now please, cut to the chase! Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather have the real Dean back. I want my bickering, teasing and sensitive on the inside boy.” Said boy were currently planting kisses on her neck. “Oh, god, I just can’t ….” She muttered, standing up from Dean’s lap immediately meeting with his sad eyes and mouth curved down. “I’ll be right back to you, sweetie, all right?” she smiled caressing his cheek and facepalming herself on the inside for calling him like that. What the heck was going on. Was it like the “it’s Tuesday again” situation? Did she wake up in alternative reality “Just stay here for a moment. And you.” she turned to Sam “you’re coming with me.”

***

“The charm?” fifteen minutes later Y/N and Sam were sitting in the booth in a crappy diner. The girl being herself ordered herself some pancakes, leaving the younger Winchester to do the talking “Guess I should have connected the dots… what? why are you looking at me like that?” she swallowed a particularly big piece of her dish and frowned

“You and Dean are so similar when it comes to your favorite food.” Sam shook his head and smiled lightly

“I’m hungry! I’ve been on the field for hours and didn’t have breakfast so cut me some slack! Now back to the witch. What do we do to break the spell? Burn her? Capture her? Slave her?”

“We are not doing anything. I’ve already got her location and ….”

“Sam…” Y/N sighed, putting her fork down and looking him straight into the eyes “you know the rules. You know I can’t let you go alone.”

“I’m not asking.”

“I’m not answering .”

“You either leave me alone or Dean. Given his current love-sick puppy state I think it’s pretty clear who need the supervision.”

“Sam…..” her tone became a bit warning

“Come on, Y/N, you know I’m right. It’s an open and close case. No trouble I promise.”

“You always say that….” She muttered “Fine. You really left me no other options, did you?”

“Look on the bright side.” Sam flashed a smile “you get to spend some quality time with you boyfriend. Maybe even get a little action….”

“Shut up Winchester!”

***

“I’m back Dea…. Woah!” she barely get the chance to step through the door when Dean swept her off her feet and spun In the air. “Put me down! Put me down!”

“Oh I may put you down, but I’m not letting you get away, again.”

“Oh please…” she scoffed, but not honestly not being opposed to his actions and switching rather towards teasing him about it “I was gone for like fifteen minutes, surely you did not miss me that….”

She was cut off by his lips on hers. Damn, he was such  a good kisser. And because of that spell also needy and maybe a bit desperate. Holy shit… Sam was right, it has been a while since….

“How’s that for not missing?” he asked cupping her cheek and brushing thumb over it. Oh, how she wanted to give in, let him pull her closer… Sad thing, she could not. It was like she told Sam in that diner- she was not opposed to clingy Dean, searching  for affection, but this was not him. She needed the assurance that all of his actions were a conscious choice not the side effect of some witchcraft.

“How about we slow down a bit, huh?” she pulled away, or rather tried to pull away, since his large hands stopped her from doing so.

“But I need you…” he whined

“I know honey, but ….”

“What? Why are you always turning away from me?”

“I’m not turning away, love.”

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Dean and that is why I think you need some rest. Don’t you wanna lay down for just a bit?”

“As long as you stay with me.”

“I will. I promise. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand and lead him towards the motel bed. It was far from comfortable, but both Winchesters and Y/N were already used to that. The girl slowly pushed Dean onto the cushions and reached for the blanket to cover him, but he was way  faster. When she moved towards the edge of the bed he grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush onto his chest, sneaking one hand under her shirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin. It was nice. It was really really nice, but she could smell his neediness with every inhale and exhale he was taking. So she moved a bit, just to look into his glistening eyes.

“What do you need, Dean? Tell me.”

“I just want to feel you next to me.”

“I think we got that covered ��� she grinned “you practically got me caged here.”

“I’m sorry” he looked down, but she grabbed his chin and met his eyes again

“Stop it, Dean Winchester. You hear me, stop it. If I wanted out, you would never be able to stop me, but I chose to be here. So go on. Talk.”

“Can you just hold me?”

“Sure my pretty boy. Come here.” She laid on her back motioning for him to snuggle into her arms and put his head on her belly, arms locked around her waist. “It’s gonna be all right” she cooed running her fingers through his hair “We’re gonna get you out of this mess. You are not alone, baby.”

***

Two hours later, she found out she fell asleep. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and instinctively she turned onto the other side, hand searching for Dean but he was not there and her heart fluttered.

“Dean?” she mumbled getting up, rubbing her eyes and walking outside. He was standing by the railing, eyes fixed on the space “Hi….” She whispered slowly approaching him and wrapping arms around his waist, pulling herself closer.

“Hi baby.” He answered closing his eyes.

“Are you… back?”

“Guess Sam did some good work. And by himself. At this point I feel expendable. You two clearly can handle all this shit by yourself. “

“You idiot.” She smacked the back of his head in the lightest hit there ever was “Expendable. You are truly unbelievable. How much do you remember?” her voice trembled a bit.

“All of it.”

“Oh.” She gasped but then smiled “so you do remember the affectionate attitude?”

“Yes.”

“And how needy and whiny you were?”

“Yes.”

“And?” she tilted head trying to get any reaction out of him which clearly was going to be a little challenge. “Was it …. Was It just the spell.”

“No.”

“God, don’t piss me off, Dean.”

“It was all real, all right? Whatever charm this was it made me act the way I felt. Cause I do need you. And I should have told you that sooner.” He turned towards her and reached for her hand “you are important to me. Damn, Y/n, you know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Dean.” She assured “you speak through your actions. And frankly ,the way you behaved was not about me. It was all about you.”

“How so?”

“You needed love. Affection. Some softness. Maybe it was all because of the fact you suppress all those needs? Cause you are reluctant to admit you have them? Hm?”

“I;m not even going to answer that.” He mumbled

“Dean, come on. We’re all humans… and yes, I believe that even despite you being a vessel for an angel, you are still human. It’s normal to need someone to hold you and love you. And you got me, so promise me, you won’t hide from me.”

“You want me to be open and honest?” he smirked

“Is that too much to ask for?”

“Yeah. Way, way too much. But I’ll try.”

“I can work with that.”

“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.”  

“I thought the effects of the spell were over….” She tapped her chin in reverie

“Guess I do have to take action by myself” Dean mumbled leaning forward and capturing her lips in sweet, gentle, delicate kiss. It was not needy, not anymore. It was a promise from him to try and do better in a relationship. “Shall we take that inside?”

“You had to kill the moment” she rolled her eyes at him “Welcome back, you prick.”

[gogomatthew]

Request: (Smut)

Hotch gives Spencer the lead on a new case. And when Y/N doesn’t do what Spencer said to do- well let’s say when they get home she gets punished.

Just you wait

SPENCER REID X FEM!READER

summary: being from a different department and working with your fiancé was always great except but things change when you don’t seem to obey his orders

warnings: choking • punishment • spanking • sub!dom dynamics • cursing • arguing • bj • PV •

a/n: english isn’t my first language so I apologize for any gramatical errors! I don’t really see Spencer as a dom tbh so this was a little difficult for me to write sorry if its not exactly what you wanted honestly it was rushed :/

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!! 18+ SMUT AHEAD

“I dont feel great about this just so you know” Emily says as you both enter the DCPD. “You think I do? but we can’t prioritize feelings over case right now” Emily sighs as you squeeze the orange envelope filled with new pictures of the crime scene between your fingers subconsciously releasing your stress onto it with a deep breath.

You see a lanky figure make his way towards both of you with a glare of disbelief plastered on his face. “You went behind my back?” though his tone is angry theres hurt laced between his words. “Im sorry but we found new evidence that-” he cuts you off “I dont care right now! Im leading this case and I told everyone to stay away from the scene until further notice. You cant just ignore my authority!” his eyes switch back and forth between you and Emily

“I work for a different department” Emily just sighs and throws her hands up in surrender as she walk away past Spencer after realizing the conflict just got a little personal. Spencer runs his hands down his face in defeated frustration causing his words to come out slightly muffled “Am I joke to you? seriously am I? I know you work for a different department but you never seem to have a problem obeying Hotch..” his hands fall back to his sides as he grabs the envelope from you and storms off leaving you there with your thoughts.

For some cases your department sent you out as the traveling detective to help out the BAU and you never had a problem working along side your fiancé I mean this job is what brought you both together but having him as your acting boss was slightly different. Its not that you didn’t respect his authority you just didn’t understand his judgment at this moment. He knew how your job functioned and always did his best to help you with whatever you needed but right now he was stopping you from doing your job and you were worried about him but there were victims at risk.

Hypothetically he would’ve been fine if..

If Hotch wasn’t hovering

If the geographical range wasnt so large

If the building wasnt so loud

If the PD didn’t see him as joke

if it wasn’t dangerous for his agents to leave the building alone

ect,, there were too many thoughts taking over and none of them were good.

Thankfully the evidence you and Emily found was crucial to the investigation and even though he was still under immense stress you felt as if at least you took a little weight off Spencers shoulders although that didint mean he was pleased with your actions. He avoided you throughout the day even after the unsub was caught not even breaking the silence on the car ride home. Before you can even finish parking Spencer is stepping out of the car and entering your shared apartment before you.

You make your way inside not too long after him with tears of pent up frustration brimming your eyes and threatening to fall only for those thoughts to be forgotten as your head gently hits the wall. Spencer has you pinned by his large hand lightly squeezing your neck the way he knows you love as his other hand holds both of your wrists between his fingers. “what was that today? first you ignore my authority..” a squeeze to your neck as his raspy voice lingers closer to your slightly open mouth “and then you humiliate me?” another squeeze and the tears fall alongside a whimper “why’re you crying baby? you know I just wanna keep you safe and thats why I couldn’t let you go to the scene” his tone is genuine care mixed with condensation as he looks you up and down hungrily “but you just had to ignore me and im gonna have to make you learn your lesson” his grip on your throat loosens as his hand gently strokes your face wiping away your tears “m- sorry” you choke out as he ghosts his lips over yours, his hot breath makes your thighs clench.

“I know you are but its too late now” his grip on you loosens and he pushes you down harshly to your knees as he undoes his belt without a word. As he frees his cock from his boxers he gives it 2 slow strokes “open” he simply says and you obey, taking him into your mouth eagerly. What you cant fit into your mouth you pump with you hand causing his breath to hitch at the stimulation. Spencer strokes his finger through your hair before fisting it and thrusting his hips into your mouth. He’s vocal and hes not shy about it, his moans come out strained and loud as you feel his dick twitch on your tongue getting ready to have your throat welcome in his load despite your gagging until he pushes you away “d-dont wanna cum yet.. gonna make you beg for it first” he says out of breath as he lifts you off the ground and into the bedroom.

“take it off.. I want a show” with a gulp you start unbuttoning your blouse slowly trying not to seem to desperate and take your pants off as he eyes you lustfuly. You are completely nude to him as his shirt and boxers remain “come here” you walk over to him cautiously and he sits you down on his thigh resting his hands on your hips slowly rocking you back and forth causing a moan to drop from your parted lips. “mm” you start rocking yourself faster as he removes his touch from you depriving you “please” he fake pouts “please what? I need to hear it” a desperate cry leaves your mouth knowing you wont be able to cum just from his thigh “I need you” he chuckles “need what? my fingers?” his hand cups your dripping cunt teasing your entrance with his fingers “n-no your-” a whimper leaves your throat “your cock”

one last look at you and he’s flipping you over so hes caging your body under his own. He grabs his dick in his hand and pushes it into your entrance without warning or giving you time to adjust. His hand finds its way back to your throat making your sounds of pain and pleasure sound strained. His thrusts dont have a rhythm theyre just ruthless and fast. “hah- ah you crying? im just correcting your behavior” his cock brushes your g spot so good it makes you forget how to talk “you know that right baby?” now this is condescending but you cant find it in you to care right now, the pleasure taking over “say it.. say you deserve this” his hold on your throat releasing so he can hold onto the bed frame to go deeper against your sensitive spot “ahh say it” with a yelp you manage to push the words out “I-I deserve t-this” his thrust dont let up it just fuels him on even more “wasnt gonna let you c-cum tonight but I think id rather fuck you stupid ah- what’d you think about that?” he knows you’re already seconds away from your orgasm as your eyes start rolling to the back of your head and you cant provide any actual words. His free hand makes its way down to your clit desperate to make you his own little fuck toy. Your legs start shaking erratically and without a warning you cum all over spencers aching cock with him hot on your heels. You pant but before you have time to catch your breath you’re roughly flipped over onto your stomach as a rough slap lands on your ass

“im not done with you yet”

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 2.

Warning; angst, grief, mental instability, mention of murder past and future.

Pairing; Batman/Male Reader (Established)

Note; I couldn't resist and had to make a second part. I will also have a third coming!

Summary; Even if it's been months, Jason is still on your mind and your grief is still drowning you. Yet, Superman found a way to make it worse until you snapped again and decided to give the Man of Steel a taste of the Joker’s medicine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batcave felt colder than usual as you sat next to Bruce. A little shiver ran down your back and you felt Bruce put his cloak on you. You smiled at him as he kissed your forehead and you squeezed his hand, trying to show your husband you were fine. Even if you weren't.

Jason was still on your mind. Every minute, every second of the day haunting you and his literal last word echoing in your head. There was the anger, the pure rage that sometimes hit you like a tsunami coming from nowhere, leaving you shaking and ready to destroy everything. Amiss everything, Bruce and Dick had been your rock, just like you were theirs. You probably wouldn't have survived Jason’s death if it wasn't for them.

Dick was coming at least once a week and stayed two days, going out at night with Bruce. It was probably the only good thing coming from losing Jason; Dick and Bruce were getting closer once more. The tension between them was still there and they often came back from patrol arguing, but it always made you smile. They looked so much like father and son, just like when Dick was still Robin.

Your eyes turned to the computer, staring at the time. It was very early morning and Dick wouldn't be here until at least noon, but until then you still had visitors.

Clark and J’onn had come to talk, in the name of the whole Justice League. When Bruce told you about it, you guessed the reason immediately; Batman hadn't worked as much with the League since Robin’s death. Not only was Bruce not in the right state of mind, but he also didn't want to leave you alone in Gotham. He also knew you would be way too worried for him, your nerves still fragile. In his words, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to explode and he wasn't wrong.

When Bruce got up, you knew your guests were there. You turned your chair to face them, keeping Bruce’s cloak wrapped around you. You smiled at J’onn when the green Martian waved at you and returned his salute. You knew that J’onn understood your pain, he who had also lost two children and his wife. Clark nodded toward you and you did the same, but you saw something in his eyes and you knew things were going to go South.

You watched the three men walk away and then turned back to the screen. After a few clicks, you acceded to the camera feeds and enjoyed them. Gotham at night was an open asylum, but now it seemed so calm without a trace of crime. Well, nothing that required Batman anyway.

Until you heard Bruce raising his voice, that caught your attention because your husband was always calm. Frowning, you silently walked toward them, trying to overhear what was going on.

- “You cannot be serious Clark. That a low blow.” The voice of J’onn said.

- “That not… I didn’t mean you were going to cheat on your husband!” Superman tried to defend himself. “I meant it would be understandable if you were… you know going to divorce him and get someone more stable.”

You froze, heart dropping in your chest as you felt tears filling your eyes. You never expected Clark to think so low, so badly of you. You squeezed Bruce’s cloak in your fist, feeling your bones shaking.

- “That doesn’t sound better, Clark. He lost his son, his child. That something you can’t even understand the pain of.” Bruce said, venom in his voice.

- “He is trying to make you a murderer!” Clark replied as sharp.

- “Look me in the eyes and tell me the Joker is better alive than death!”

- “You two calm down. Fighting like that won’t do anyone any good. We need to think about his well being too. He is still grieving just like you Bruce. No one should bury a child not lose them like you two did.” J’onn interrupted and you could imagine him placing himself between the two men.

- “If we need to think about his well being then maybe he would be better placed.”

Superman’s reply was like a slap in the face, making you take a few steps back. Biting your lips, you almost ran away, not waiting to know what Bruce was going to say or do. You trusted your husband, knew he would have your back and never would betray you. Yet it didn’t take the pain of those words away.

You left the cave, going back to the manor. Somewhere in the between you lost Bruce’s cloak, but didn’t notice it until you found yourself in front of Jason’s bedroom door. You rested your hand on the handle, hesitating to enter. As much as Clark's words had stung, there was a part of truth in them. Your grief was holding back Bruce and you hadn't made much progress since that horrible night.

But you just couldn't.

Couldn't stop seeing Jason’s beaten body covered in his own blood.

Couldn't stop hearing his last word, him calling you Papa for the last time.

You broke down crying, pressing your forehead against the door and covering your mouth not wishing to be heard. Never again would you hear Jason make a bad joke or see him running to his motorcycle to follow Bruce’s Batmobile. Over were the days you two would pass working on his motorcycle or shopping to find pieces.

There would never come another evening watching a match just the two of you while Bruce was on patrol.

You weren't a father anymore. The Joker had taken the title from you like he did so many others and there was nothing you could do against it. Superman was preventing you and Bruce from getting true justice, stopping any attempt at killing the Joker. It was impossible for you to get better, his presence in your city an eternal reminder of what was taken from you.

As long as the Joker lived you would never accept Jason’s death. If only he could die or disappear!

Disappear.

You stopped crying, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you bit down on one of your fingers as the thought made its way into your mind. It was disgusting and horrible, but also terribly dangerous. Yet it was the best response to the situation and you hated yourself for thinking about doing it.

As Bruce Wayne’s husband, you were as known and as influential as him. His money was yours he kept saying, letting do as much charity as you wanted. After years of being married and living in Gotham, you did as much good as you could for your city. And it attracted friends who were as influential and powerful as you. So yes that terrible thought could be made true with only a few calls.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself away from Jason’s door. You knew what you had to do even if Bruce was going to be mad at you. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

It was only hours later that you heard Bruce enter his office and approach you. You stood still in front of the window watching the sun rise while drinking a cup of coffee. Neither of you said a word. Bruce simply walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your shoulder. You knew he knew you overheard them. Maybe it was your red and puffy eyes, maybe because you weren't in the cave anymore.

- “Clark is pretty pissed off with your stun.” Bruce said, resting his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear. “I understand why you did it, but you should have talked to me first.”

Or he knew what you did…

You scoffed and leaned in your spouse’s embrace, closing your eyes for only a moment.

Your calls had worked and everyone was just in a hurry to make it happen. Everyone wanted the Joker gone and convincing Metropolis Asylum to take him in had not been hard. Especially after saying that he wouldn't be a threat with Superman always around. Metropolis Asylum was avant-garde in terms of technology and security and it wouldn't be filled with corrupted employees.

- “If we can't kill him to avenge Jason, we shouldn't have to deal with him at all.” You said with a sigh. “Clark can take care of him and have a taste of the Joker’s medicine. Besides, as your friend he can do that service for you.”

- “You still should have talked to us, me, first.”

- “No, because y'all would have refused and I just can't do it anymore Bruce. I just can't. He is always on my mind, laughing because he knows we can't do shit to him. I have to live in the same city as the murderer of my son and it's driving me nuts!”

Bruce tightened his arms around you as you sobbed, hands grabbing your cup so hard you expected it to crack at any second now. You felt Bruce pressing his forehead against your head as he whispered soft words you could barely hear. It took you a few minutes to calm down and your husband gently dried your cheeks.

- “I am not angry, not at all.”

- “I am so sorry Bruce. I keep hurting and dragging you down with me.” You sighed, defeated. “Clark is right. You deserve so much better.”

- “Nonsense. I promised to love you in health and in sickness, in joy and grief. I couldn't wish for someone better than you.”

You chuckled, finally having a small smile. Those words were like a balm to your broken soul. It has always been you two against the world and you were happy that Bruce still felt the same after all those years. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you just like you got him. You two went through so many hardship only to come out closer.

- “I spoke with J’onn and he offered his guidance if you would have him. He is ready to share his own experience with losing is family and be here for you.” Bruce said, gently letting go of you before he rested his hands on your shoulders.

You trusted J’onn with your and Bruce’s life and mind. Maybe you should accept since there was no one else around you who could understand such pain. There was no one else around you who had lost children after all. Parents? Yes. Kids? Just J’onn.

You nodded, accepting the offer and Bruce kissed you.

- “I’ll let J’onn know you accepted. He will be glad to hear that.” Bruce said, resting his hand on your cheek. “I also kicked Clark out. He won't come back until he excuses himself for his words to you.”

- “Bruce!” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

- “No, Clark is in time-out until you actually forgive him. I don't care if he expressed himself badly, he still said those words and hurt you.”

You smiled, truly, looking Bruce in the eyes. What a sweet man your husband was.

- “Thank you.”

- “You are welcome. Alfred made your favorite breakfast and its ready.”

- “Are you…”

- “Of course, I am going to eat with you.”

Bruce led you out of his office, one arm wrapped around your waist. After months you finally felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. The Joker wasn't in Gotham, wasn't Bruce’s problem anymore and you didn't have to fear something similar would happen to Dick. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't justice, but you knew you could truly begin to heal now.

The hole and void in your heart would never be filled, but as long as you had Bruce by your side, it would never consume you.