#doing some digging to see if i can find anything on what happened last night

[irrelevaantidiot]

dude did i talk about how i woke up twice last night. no specific reason on the first one (I think I just get bad sleep when I'm sad like last night) and then the second time I woke up it was like 2 am and the cops were in one of the nearby neighborhoods. literally "(town) police department, come out with your hands up!!" on repeat and then I js hear "GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!" and then it was js some back and forth along with sirens and what I think was backup coming?? things did eventually go quiet tho.

anyways i mentioned the cop thing to my mom earlier and she was like "dude what" and I mentioned it to my brother earlier. same kind of response. my mom was convinced I had a weird dream. except I wasn't dreaming at all dude I know what I heard dude?? i woke up at 2:31 am and ik cause my alarm was literally there. didn't check when I heard the noise but things ended around 2:38. I am not insane dude.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating ���� Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

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[samsno1]

Celebrating

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

hi, heres what i promised to the dean girls! i don't know what to say, this is long and i don't know if the smut is good enough, might edit later, also, dean in this red jacket is my favorite

Summary: It had been a while since you got some and at night of celebrating a successful hunt you expected to finally, after a long time, get laid

Warnings: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), finger sucking, jealousy (? if you squint), oral f. recieving, fingering, dean is so in love ohmygod, english is not my first language, not proof read (if i forgot anything let me know)

Read it on AO3

WC: 4.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

It was difficult for you to find anyone willing to spend the night with you in the current settings of your life, having to lie about what you do, who you are…Basically create a whole new personality just to be able to bring someone to your motel room. In that sense, it was frustrating, both sexually and mentally to be put in this scenery but, either way, saving lives was more important than getting laid, even if you were thoroughly stressed beyond comparison by your inability to find a guy (or girl). 

You, Sam and Dean had gone to California for what you discovered, after great questioning and piles of research, was a simple salt ‘n burn of a poor ghost of a roadkill and was haunting that particular highway and crashing trucks of drivers who were mildly intoxicated behind the wheel.

After finding out where the bones were buried you went to the cemetery and started digging up the grave. Shovel after shovel of dirt fell behind you while you panted in exhaustion until you hit something hard at the bottom of the hole you dug up.

You harshly broke the wooden casket, revealing the remains of the ghost and a putrid smell hit your nose like everytime it happened when you had a salt ‘n burn. You scrunched up your nose and threw the shovel on the ground beside you, reaching with a hand towards Dean for him to help you get out of the hole.

“There it is.” You say proudly as you stare down at the decomposed body being covered with salt by Sam while Dean reaches for the alcohol in the bag and the lighter in his pocket.

You three watch as the bones light up in an orange fire, burning away what’s tying the poor soul to this world, the heat radiating in your skin. After some time you bump your shoulder with Dean’s, making him look at you.

“Let’s go, I need a shower so we can go out and celebrate” You say with a grin as you turn back to walk towards the Impala and Dean follows suit along with Sam, the fire slowly extinguishing itself behind you.

You opened the door to the backseat, the creaking of the hinges echoing through the night, getting inside and closing the door with a thud. Dean and Sam sat in their designed seats at the driver and shotgun, respectively, and you drove into the night towards the motel.  

“I saw a bar not far from where we are staying” Dean said and you hummed and Sam nodded. “You two might have to come back alone, you know” He suggested with a smirk and Sam scrunched his nose and let out an amused huff and you chuckled dryly, a weird nausea bubbling in your stomach.

Deep down you wished Dean could see you the way he sees the bartenders and strippers in bars or clubs you three often go to. You didn’t know if he thought you were too rough, too scarred, both mentally and physically. You usually dressed up nice, using makeup from time to time when you noticed your eyebags were getting darker or when your lips looked too pale. You also tried your best with clothing, well, the best someone could do when you were a hunter. Either way, you never looked like those girls, they were absolutely stunning, even for you, and you couldn’t compete with them.

You shook your head. You were probably thinking these things because it had been some time since you last got laid. Tonight was your night, you were feeling it, you were taking someone to your room.

Dean turned the car off after parking and you got out, going to the trunk to get your bag.

“You guys meet me in my room? I’ll most likely take longer to get ready” You said with a grin and the boys nodded. You took out the keys to your room and got in, throwing your bag over your bed and going to another bag you had in your room, where you kept your “fancy” clothes and makeup.

You took out a beautiful black dress with long sleeves that ended in your mid thighs. It was a dress you thrifted when you went on a hunt alone a while ago and never had the opportunity to use it. When you tried it on, though, it hugged your curves in all the right places, made your body look amazing and you felt as confident as one could feel.

You left the dress over the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a shower, smiling to yourself. You took your time, washed your hair thoroughly and finished it off in the usual way. In the hunting life you often get your hair very dirty almost everyday with blood, dirt, ectoplasm…you name it. So, keeping it lucious and healthy was a process that you grew fond of doing to recollect some of that normalcy that hunting didn’t give you.

You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body and picked up an underwear set that was, well, sensual to say the least and dropped the towel to the ground to put it on, the dress going over it, careful not to mess up your hair in the process.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and whistled in surprise at your own appearance, you looked good. Time for makeup.

You didn’t do much, a simple concealer, contour and blush with mascara and a smokey eye was enough to drop any man to the ground.

You decided to put shoes on because, first, if you really had to walk back, heels weren’t helpful, second, you didn’t have your heels with you at the moment.

While you were finishing up you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and there they were, Sam and Dean, practically on the same looks, just cleaner, waiting for you.

They both eyed you up and down, drinking your appearance in, Dean dropping his jaw slightly as he stared at your exposed thighs. Sam let out an impressed sigh and cleared his throat.

“Wow Y/N you look…amazing” He said and you smiled, looking down, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

“Yeah…” Dean agrees, half on earth, half in his head trying to get rid of the thoughts of those beautiful legs wrapped around his neck while his nose deep into your–

“Well, thank you, I hope it isn’t too much.” You said.

“No, n–no, ha, it’s not, at all,” Dean said to quickly, finally grasping the courage to look into your eyes, the beautiful colors drowning him and your shy smile making him want to smash his lips to yours that moment. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He offered.

“Yes, let me just get my phone” You said and went inside for a couple seconds, coming out with it and your wallet. “C’mon!”

You passed through them and went towards the car. Sam elbowed Dean to make him turn to him.

“You are staring at her like she’s a cheeseburger and you haven’t eaten in days, man” Sam teased and Dean frowned at him “You were practically drooling”

“I–I was not, okay? She just looks…pretty, that's all” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s ‘Yeah, right’ and going to the driver's seat in the Impala, you already sat down in the backseat. After Sam got in you all went to the bar and you felt particularly excited this time.

“Okay, every single one who tried to flirt with me was a disaster” You said, coming back to the table with a sigh, Sam and Dean almost laughing at you as you handed them their beers. “Seriously, who do I have to kill to get laid in this shit”

You took a swig of your beer and looked around once more, trying to find a decent man for you to take back tonight when you eyed a handsome black haired guy a few feet away. You smiled to yourself and got up from your seat.

When you walked up to him you didn’t see it but Dean was fuming with jealousy, this feeling bubbling up inside him that made his fists unconsciously clench over the table. He tried flirting with other women that night, chatting them up like he usually did but it all went down the drain the moment his eyes darted to you again, a guy practically snuggling up to you while you gently pushed him away and refused his advances, either not finding him attractive or just not feeling a spark.

He should be the one you looked at, he knew everything about you, how you liked your coffee, your favorite drinks, the faint lines that would appear around your lips when you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something you enjoyed. He knows you.

Sam noticed his brother’s demeanor and called out to him to snap him out of his jealous haze. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he had this stupid smirk on his face, sipping the beer once again to hide his amused smile.

“What?” Dean snapped, his hand wrapping around the bottle, the cool glass doing nothing to ease his temper down, his knee going up and down under the table with nervousness.

“Nothin’” Sam answered and finished his beer, getting up and leaving a couple dollars, enough to pay for the beers he drank. “I’m going back, y’know, tired. Tell Y/N”

Dean nodded, he didn’t know if Sam meant for him to tell you that Sam went back or that you’ve been in his dreams for months now, not all of them cute and fluffy, some made him wake up with a hard-on, sweating and longing for you.

He looked in your direction and you were coming back with an annoyed face, arms crossed in front of you, feet stomping the ground. Dean made a confused face and when you got back to the table you sat down on the chair with a scoff, his eyes never leaving you.

“He has a girlfriend” You murmured and then realized you were one man short “Where’s Sam?”

“He called in, tired” Dean said and you hummed. He had a weird look on his face, something you couldn’t make out what was. You sighed and looked down.

“I think we should go too, this night was disappointing to me” You breathed out a laugh “I’m impressed you didn’t find anyone, I saw some girls eyeing you”

“Nah, I’m fine,” He said and finished his beer. You widened your eyes at him but didn’t say anything, just nodding hesitantly in shock. “Let 's go?”

He said getting up and you mirrored him, pulling your dress down a bit, Dean’s eyes on you all the time. He bit his lower lip and mentally told himself to cool it.

As you two walked towards the car you couldn’t help but look at him up and down, silently appreciating his figure. His strong jawline, his green eyes now dark thanks to the night, his slightly crooked nose that made him look unique.

When you got into the car, in silence, you drove back to the motel and you felt an unmistakable tension in the air and you were worried you might’ve done something to upset the man. You started to fidget with your fingers over your lap, the street lights going past the car through the window as Dean sped up through the pavement.

His hands gripped the wheel, holding back the urge to pounce on you right there and then. When he parked the car and reached for the door handle you held his wrist.

“Wait! Dean, is something the matter?” You asked, big eyes looking into his as he looked at you, noticing the trouble behind those beautiful orbs. He wanted to punch himself in the gut for making you feel bad. “What happened?”

“Nothing it’s just…” He trailed off and looked at your hand wrapping his wrist. His other hand enveloped over it and your skin flared up with goosebumps. He felt warm, rough, his strong grip comforting. You took your hand away from his wrist, allowing his hand to wrap over your and pull you into him.

You yelped and was about to question him when you felt his plump lips against yours, his other hand hesitantly holding your cheek and you melted. It took you a while to process what was happening. Dean Winchester is kissing you. Though, when you did, your free hand went to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.

Everything felt like a fever dream and you were afraid that if you pulled away you’d wake up and Dean would be gone. His lips had a taste of beer lingering from the night out, they were full and smooth. You felt like you were drowning in this feeling until Dean pulled away, seeking a breath of air.

You looked between his eyes, your breaths molding into each other from the closeness. You moved the hand he was holding up his chest, to his shoulder, up to his cheek, his eyes closing and his head snuggling against your hand, his fingers fidgeting around your wrist.

He opened his eyes, a thousand feelings swimming behind his green orbs as you both communicate in silence, an agreement, a revelation. You smiled and pulled him in again, this time with no hesitation. His hand went down your arm slowly, your skin warming up where his hand passed by, and settled by your waist, pulling you closer. His tongue teased your bottom lip and you eagerly opened your mouth with a low moan.

At that, he smirked into the kiss and pulled you over his lap, the steering wheel digging into your back, his hands both placed at your hips as you unconsciously rocked against him. He let go of your mouth again and you stared down at him.

“I wanted to do this so bad” He whispered and you smiled, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck mindlessly. He placed a loving kiss at your jaw and pulled away again while you hummed, content.

When you looked at his face again there was a frown and he was avoiding your eyes. You grabbed both his cheeks and made him look at you.

“What was that thought, hm?” You ask lightly as to not push him away. You didn’t want this to end, not ever. He seemed nervous.

“What does this mean to you?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. “To me, Y/N,” he continued, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs “you’re everything, I mean, you– you’re perfect. You’ve seen everything I’ve done and never let me down, you’re beautiful and so much more. If to you I’m just a way to get off then–”

You cut him off with a peck on his lips.

“Stop. Right there.” You started, looking deep into his eyes. “Dean I– you are everything I’ve ever wanted, needed. You mean more to me than words can describe, you’re not just a one night stand, you’re my dream”

When you finished, he didn’t waste a second to wrap a hand behind your neck and steal your lips again, his mouth addicting. There was so much passion, feeling and desire pumping through your veins.

Your dress was high on your thighs and one of his hands squeezed the flesh hungrily, making you groan in his mouth. He went further with his hand, his thumb caressing over your covered sex and you opened your mouth in a whimper.

Dean attacked your neck with kisses and hickeys, his teeth leaving a pattern over your skin as his hand ghosts over where you need him the most.

“Dean…” You say, a beg behind your words and he pulls away, both his hand and his mouth, making you shiver from the lack of contact and the cool feeling his saliva left behind over your neck.

“Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to have you in the car,” He said, his voice rough and deeper with lust, his pupils wide as he opened the door, a cool breeze coming in that did little to nothing to cool your skin off. “you deserve a bed, another time” He finished, leaving an open mouthed kiss under your ear.

Another time. You nodded, words failing you as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your dress and hair the best you could to seem decent. Dean stood up behind you and let a hand linger on your waist, eager to touch you at all times and all ways.

You both walked towards the door of your room, Dean’s fingers tightening on your skin the longer it took for you to get the door open. The moment you were able to open it, he pushed both of you in, turning you around and pinning you to the door inside, closing it with a loud noise behind your back and his lips were on your again, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin.

You yelped in shock but soon reciprocated the touches and kisses, your fingers wrapping around his jacket and pulling it off, his hands momentarily leaving you to drop it to the ground. When his hands came back he grabbed both your legs and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for support, his fingers digging into your skin yet again.

Your hands pulled on his hair, your tongues battling in a messy kiss when you feel your body move to the bed, your body being gently placed over it.

Dean pulled away, standing up fully and you took him in with a bite of your lip. He unbuttoned his flannel, slowly and you lifted your dress over your hips, lifting them off the bed to help, revealing your panties and over your head to take it off completely and throwing the fabric away.

Dean’s breathing got heavier, the confine of his pants bothering him as he finally discards the flannel, torso naked to you. You drink his defined physique with hooded eyes and he smirks down at you, his head going close to the waistband of your panties, eyes never leaving yours as he leaves kisses from your hips to your stomach to the valley of your breasts until he came face to face with you again, a smile lingering in his lips making one of your own appear on yours.

Your hands grab at his cheeks and pull him in again as he holds you by your waist, pulling your near naked torso into his. His fingers ghost over every inch of new exposed skin as if he was memorizing every atom of your being like you were going to disappear.

Your hands start to explore over his chest, the strong muscles flexing against your palms, your nails scratching at his wide back and shoulders.

His hands travel behind your back to unclasp your bra and you let him, letting the undergarment go loose against your breasts and Dean takes it off. He drinks the view in, staring and you start to feel self-conscious and take your hands to cover yourself up. Dean catches onto that and kisses you again, one big hand grabbing at your right breast and you whimper in his mouth.

“I always knew you were beautiful” He whispers against your lips and pulls back to look at you again “But you are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on”

This time you turned away from him with a stupid smile on your face.

“Says you” You say and turn to him again, your hands over his shoulders and moving towards his back “Your back is a perfect place for my nails to dig in” You whisper seductively on his ear and leave a hickey on his neck. He groans and lowers his head to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples, the warm feeling against the sensitive nub making you arch your back into him and your fingers to tangle in his hair.

“Dean, fuck–” You moan as he gently bites your nipple and moves to the other breast, his eyes looking at you from below and drinking in your noises.

One of his hands sneaked up your inner thigh and teased your clit over your panties and you shivered, a smirk on his lips against your breast. He slowly took your panties off, discarding them on the ground and now you were completely bare below him, vulnerable.

His middle finger pressed over your clit and you arched again.

“Dean, please…” You beg, your best attempt at puppy dog eyes looking down at him and he adds his ring finger, starting to do slow circles over the sensitive nub as he kisses up your neck, your noises of pleasure egging him on.

He lowers his fingers to your entrance and he slips both in with no restraint given your wetness, the feeling making you let out a moan and grab onto his shoulders as he hooks his fingers inside you, touching that special spot.

He smirks smugly and continues his ministrations, your pussy clenching and tightening around his fingers making him groan.

“You’re so wet” He mumbles “I wonder how you taste like” He gives your nose a peck, your mind too drowned in pleasure to respond to his words. He kisses down your body, his fingers never leaving you, until he's facing your cunt. He places both your legs over his shoulders, your thighs resting around his cheeks, the light stubble leaving a tingly feeling behind.

He leaves a lingering kiss over your clit and you buck your hips, looking for more friction. He teases a bit more, biting and sucking at your inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed his mouth to be. You took charge and grabbed at his hair, pulling his face closer and he complied.

“Oh, fuck!” You groan.

His tongue licked at your sex and your loud moans echoed through the walls, the warm muscle doing wonders against you and the mix of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering close in bliss.

“Dean, God” You moan as he squeezes your thigh. All the ministrations send shivers down your spine, your core tightening inside you, that familiar rush of warmth spreading through you. Your thighs try to close, forgetting Dean’s in between and he hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you feel like you were in heaven. “I’m cumming”

“Cum for me princess” He mumbles and you let go with a chant of his name. The feeling washes over you, making you feel lighter for a couple seconds, Dean helping you ride out your orgasm. When the stimulation becomes too much and you whine and squirm away, he gets up from his knees, chin glistening in your juices. He took his fingers out, a grunt scaping your throat at the emptiness. It was a sinful sight.

He crawled over you again, his middle and index finger teasing at your bottom lip.

“Open up” He said, voice deep and demanding and you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his fingers in. You lick your juices clean off his fingers, never breaking eye contact, humming and moaning against his digits as Dean bites his lips with force. Your hand travels down to unbuckle his belt and he takes his fingers away from your mouth to kiss you.

Once you got the belt open, Dean backed away, taking his shoes off and unzipping his pants. Meanwhile, you drank in his appearance. His hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his arms flexing as he lowered his pants along with his boxers. He was divine.

When he dropped the jeans his eyes drifted back to you, catching you staring and he smirks.

“See something you like?” He asks, closing the gap between you again, smashing your lips to his in yet another breathtaking kiss.

He completely lies you down on the mattress, his elbows supporting his weight over you as his cock bumps against your sensitive sex and you gasp, hand gripping the back of his neck.

“Fuck me” You say, bluntly and whiny but he gets the hint and aligns his member to your hole.

“Yes Ma’am” He says and starts to insert himself inside you, an immediate groan coming out of both your throats, his forehead dropping to the nape of your neck as his fingers dug into your hips, holding himself back to not slam into you at full force. You felt amazing around him, the warmth of your walls made him never want to go away.

“Oh my God” You moan as he slowly goes deeper, his cock throbbing inside you. Once he bottomed out you were breathing heavier than ever, pupils blown and nails teasing at his back. “Dean” 

“I’m right here sweetheart” He reassured you and left kisses over your shoulder to distract you. You grinned at his sweetness and rolled your hips against his, a sign that he could move.

“Move, please, I want to feel you” You mumbled and he obliged, instant pleasure going through your body.

“God, Y/N” He moaned close to your ear as he went faster, your moans getting louder.

He smashed his hips against yours, eyeing the way it went in and out, being deliciously consumed by your cunt, glistening with your slick and cum. He stared at you, your fucked out state, the way you were a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him and he felt proud to be the reason you were like this.

You felt every inch ripping your insides, Dean’s hands roaming through your body as his lips left bite marks and kisses around your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and everything just added more to the pleasure when his tongue circled around your nipple.

“You’re so pretty” He groaned after pulling away from your breasts and felt that familiar feeling go through him as your pussy clenched tighter around his cock. He was close and he knew you were too. His hands traveled both down to your lower body, one pressed over the skin under your belly button and the other circled your clit messly.

When he pressed down over your lower belly you felt him impossibly deeper and grabbed at the sheets underneath you to ground yourself to reality.

“Jesus– Fuck Dean, please!” You moaned incoherently as that bubble inside you was about to pop “I’m gonna cum, baby, please” You moaned again and you knew he was close to, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.

“Cum with me Y/N” He said and not even seconds later you unraveled beneath him, your high hitting you like a bus, a loud moan rippling through your throat and Dean pulled out, cumming over your stomach, his chest heaving with his breaths.

Dean forced himself to get up and get a wet towel to clean you up in the bathroom, coming back and gently wiping away the fluids. You were spent and at the same time as happy as you could ever be.

You adjusted yourself in the bed while you waited for Dean to come back from the bathroom after discarding the towel, his naked shadow visible thanks to the light inside. When he walked out he smiled at you and snuggled beside you, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You were both silent for a while until he spoke up. 

“I love you so much” He said “And no, this is not post sex haze, I’ve loved you for so long” He admitted quietly above you and you felt your heart beating ten times faster at his words. You looked up at him and placed a gentle hand over his cheek to make him look down at you.

“I love you too, dumbass” You say with a chuckle and kiss him deeply again, pouring all the love you knew you felt towards him into the kiss.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

[apricot-blossomss]

are you still taking requests? if so, can you do something about Apollo? anything really

☛ mortal!f!reader is captured by the greeks and they experience the wrath of apollo

☛ sfw; tw: violence, threats of sa, disease; takes place in the iliad so i guess this is officially iliad fanfiction in which not chryseis gets kidnapped as a bride prize but you, apollo's mortal lover; i really like writing morally ambigous apollo for some reason

The rope burned into your wrist as you tried to budge but it was to no avail. Agamemnon's squire, a young man who had been tasked with binding you to the pole, had done a good job at it. Only stubbornness had you still tugging on your bindings. But when you felt blood trickle down your wrists, you halted your movement and opted to look around the tent instead.

It had several rooms, full of treasures he had stolen from your people. A home fit for a king, or as close as possible in these circumstances. The duvet was decked with expensive blankets and golden trinkets covered the floor. With a sigh, you let your head fall against the pole and closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh.

You had lost track of time, but it couldn't have been half a day since you had been captured. Just this morning you had woken up to the chatter and street noises of your home of Lyrnessus. You had pulled back the curtains and relished in the warmth of the sun on your face, quite like a good morning kiss from your lover. Until the Greeks had sacked the city. In an attempt to hide, you had flown down to the cellar and hid in a barrel, but Agamemnons soldiers had found you and abducted you to their camp where they had chained you down in their leaders tent.

Was it evening now? The air was cooler than before, but you couldn't see. Was that the crackling of bondfires? You pulled your legs to your chest and tried to get comfortable. If you were to flee or fight anyone, you would need your rest. But it was hard, when worry and sadness about the fate of your city and people threatened to overwhelm you, fueled by fear and anxiety about your position.

Last night, you had slept in a bed, clean, soft and with your lover by your side. The thought of Apollo gave you a little hope. He wouldn't let anyone touch you, right? That's what he had promised a few nights ago, when the air was humid and your face rested against his warm chest, blankets discarded because it was too hot, skin on skin, nothing between you two.

Your thoughts had carried you away, and of course he had taken notice and lifted your chin to meet your eyes. "Tell me," was all he had said, and you had only shaken your head and leaned your temple on his bicep, looking up into his golden eyes. And the moment you had, you and him had both known what was going on in each others head. It just happened.

"Don't worry," he had said, running a hand through your damp hair. "I wont let anything happen to you." You had nodded, though not wholly convinced, and angled your head upwards to kiss him, but he had hushed your attempts by tapping your lips with his index finger. "I mean it. If any of them lay their hands on you, I will wipe them off the face of this earth."

It had been weird. His voice had been so soothing, yet their meaning was so utterly destructive. "I'm scared," you had confessed. You had tried to deny it for a long time, reminding yourself of his love, but this was a war, and war wasn't kind to anyone- especially not to women. "Lyrnessus will be next, won't it?" It wasn't kind to homes either.

"I don't know," he had admitted. His eyes had taken on a darker shade of gold, his voice a grave tone. "But no matter what, I will always protect you, alright?"

"alright," you had answered, and he had leaned down to return your kiss. In order to calm yourself, you tried to remember the way he tasted, like honey, so sweet and warm. How he held you, tried to imagine his warm arms around you, not the pole digging into your back. and for a moment, you managed to find comfort, just from the thought of him, sitting in a cruel king's tent, hunched over and scared.

Until the covers of the entrance were pulled back and you came face to face with the commander in chief of the greeks, the king of Mycenae. You had expected more. Sure, he was of an imposing figure, but with all the stories you had heard, he was still just a man. You didn't know wether that was good thing when you saw his eyes trail over your body and his tongue wet his lips.

"Get me wine," he told his squire, eyes not leaving you as he stepped further into the room and sat down on the duvet to take off his armor. Now he was truly just a man. You opted to avoid looking at him, instead fixing your eyes onto one of the vases full of valuables. The squire hurried inside again and filled a cup with wine for his king.

"You must be uncomfortable, sitting on the ground," Agamemnon said to you, but it was not in a caring way. There was a mean and guileful tone to his voice.

"I'm not," you answered, trying to steady your voice. You couldn't show fear. You had the distinct notion that he would take great enjoyment in your terror. Never before had you wished so much for a coat, something to cover your cleavage with, because the way he was ogling it made chills run down your spine.

He laughed, and it was a raw, condescending laugh. "Hm, you're comfortable, huh? Wonder for how long, once I have my way with you." You prayed that the effect of his words wasn't visible on your face. A long sigh left his lips as he poured himself another cup of wine. "Look at me, girl."

You didn't and he chucked his cup onto the floor next to you. Both you and the obviously anxious squire of his flinched as the red liquid drenched your dress. Agamemnon laughed about your squirming attempts to get away from the puddle and his eyes devoured the sight of your wet, now see-through skirt. "You won't be playing tough much longer, girl," he mocked you and stood up to stand before you. "What, you got a lover you want to stay pure for? Should I send you back to him once I am thoroughly done with you?"

"He will make you pay," you said and finally met his eye, determinded to keep your gaze steady and firm. The situation was overwhelming and you hated how your lower lip started to tremble. "Everything you do to me, he will inflict on you tenfold."

Another laugh, and he kneeled down to your level. The proximity made you anxious, but you continued to stare him down without showing fear. "I don't see him anywhere," Agamemnon mocked and again, his tongue wet his lips, dry from the sand on from a thirst you could read in his eyes. "Is he a Trojan warrior? He will be dead soon, how will a corpse avenge you? Maybe I'll kill him myself."

"You can never kill him," you breathed. "And he will come for me."

"You think he'll still want you after everything I'm going to do to you?" the man sneered. He was so close you could smell the wine in his breath and you averted your face. "Ya' think that will do the trick?" he grinned and grabbed your chin to violently turn your face towards him.

Just then, the covers of the entrance were pulled back once more and an out of breath greek soldier, one of Agamemnon's Mycenaean warriors, if you were guessing right, stood in the entrance. "What do you think you're doing, soldier?" Agamemnon snarled at him, and the man babbled under his breath, asking for forgiveness.

"What do you want?" Agamemnon said in annoyance, already turning back to you again and still nearly crushing your jaw with his tight grip.

"Sir," he panted and held his side. "The fleet- we are under attack, I think, I don't know, but our men are dropping like flies and we don't know what is going on, several ships of soldiers have already been anihilated! It is a sickness, and it's spreading fast!"

"What?!" Agamemnon roared, jumping to his feet. His face was red with wine and anger. "Go ask Calchas, this must be a god's doing!"

As the soldier stormed out, you laughed breathlessly, laughed about yor captor's anger and confusion. Enraged, he turned to you and you gave him a mocking grin. You were about to open your mouth to ridicule him and his situation when he stormed over and grabbed a fistful of your hair, painfully tugging it so you were forced to look at him. "You little minx, you! You won't be laughing for much longer!"

WHACK!

Both you and Agamemnon jolted away when something hit the ground between your attacker's feet. When you looked down, a new sense of hope and courage flooded through you and your muscles relaxed. Agamemnon, however, shot up and let out a panicked gasp. It was a golden arrow, and you knew who the archer was.

Agamemnon wasn't stupid, and he knew what this meant. He turned around to his terrified squire who was staring at the arrow with widened eyes. "Untie her and get her to Calchas, now! And someone get me another cup of wine!"

As you were dragged out by the young man who folowed his king, you saw that the greek camp was in absolute disarray. Agamemnon pushed through soldiers who were running around in panic, informing each other of the havoc that was presumably being wreaked on the ships at this moment. When they saw him, the soldiers followed their commander in chief and a massive crowd formed when you reached the seer, Calchas.

Agamemnon walked towards him and seemed to explain the situation to him as other men, who seemed to be in command as well, pushed through the crowd to stand by them. You couldn't hear what they were talking about, but they seemed to be trying to persuade the seer to tell them the cause for the sudden destructive outburst. Just when a young man seemed ready to get his answers in a violent way, Calchas raised his hand and pointed at you.

The crowd fell silent and you felt several hundred eyes on you. "It's her," the seer rasped, "She brought death to the camp with her presence." So you had been right with your assumption.

"Why? What is with this girl?" one of the men in charge pressed. There was no malice in his eyes, only worry.

Calchas eyes met yours and he gasped. His hand was shaking. "You have captured the lover of the divine god Apollo himself. She must be returned immediately, or the pest will spread even faster among the troops. The wrath of Apollo knows no limits as long as she is held in this camp." Your heart warmed with pride of being called Apollo's lover- and with satisfaction at Agamemnon's shocked expression.

Anxious whispering broke out and you felt the squire's tight grip on your arm loosen slightly. All the commanders' eyes were on you. One of them spoke up. "Alright, we should act as quickly as possible. Let's release her into no man's land, make sacrafices to Apollo to soothe him and hope for his mercy." The other's mumbled words of approval and nodded, only Agamemnon spoke up.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" a young man said sharply. "How is this not a clear decision?"

"The girl is my bride prize, she is mine by right!" Agamemnon shot back.

The squire next to you gasped, so loud that everyone turned to him. At first, you thought he was just being jumpy again, but then you saw the golden arrow that had pierced clean through his chest. And the growing patch of red on his tunic. You could only watch in shock as his grip on your upper arm slipped away and his knees buckled under him. Before his body hit the ground, he was dead.

☀️

A short time later, one of the officers escorted you out of the camp. You had gotten the cloak and water you had asked for without any hesitation, but had refused the valuables offered to you in an attempt to soothe your lover's destructive rage. Relief filled your heart, and you didnt know how you could have ever doubted that Apollo would save you.

After you had left the last of the tents behind, you walked another few hundred steps until you were out of sight of both the camp and Troy, in the midst of no man's land. "You are one lucky girl," your escort said as a goodbye and you nodded. "Yes, i am."

He walked away, back to the camp, and you were left, waiting for Apollo. You didnt have to wait for long. He descended upon the earth in a rain of golden light. To avoid being blinded, you averted your eyes until the light dimmed. As soon as his feet met the ground, you let go of the cloak, ran towards him and threw yourself into his welcoming arms. They locked around you in an instant, fingers digging into your flesh and his face buried in your neck.

You felt him breathe in and out in a shudder and retreated, thinking he was about to cry, but when you looked into his eyes, they were filled to the brim with a chilling and utterly destructive rage. Your soft hands cupped his face and he let out another shuddering breath, as if he was trying hard to compose himself. Instinctively, you knew he was trying not to scare you, that had to be why he was averting his deadly eyes and pulled you close once more.

"I would have killed all of them, burned down every. single. ship. If it were in my power, I would have striken down Agamemnon and dragged him down to Tartarus myself, so he couldn't even escape his torture in death." His hands loosened their almost bruising hold on you and his voice softened. "Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind," you smiled shyly. Retreating a few inches, you looked up at him and placed your hand on his marble cheek. He leaned into your touch and kissed your temple and you smiled. "The last part, I mean."

"I'm sorry I can't do that right now," he said, lifting you up into his arms and holding you as if you were as fragile as glass. "but I may have something even better. Let's go home."

Your heart dropped at the mention. Blinking away the tears in your eyes, you looked up at the stars. "I don't have a home anymore," you said, whispering it for some reason. Maybe because you didn't want to know it yourself. "My city is destroyed, my house is burned down, I have nowhere to go."

"You have," he said and golden rays engulfed you, the same ones that had announced his arrival from Olympus. As you realized what he was planning to do, you looked at him in disbelief, and he smiled at you. "I meant my home. Our home. If you want to." The rays of gold around you axcellerated their speed and the only thing you could see was the face you loved most, drowned in a golden hue. He was going to take you to Olympus. Your new home.

"Yes," you breathed and smiled at him. You would be willing to go everywhere with him right now. Your hand found his and he held you tight to his body as his feet lifted off the ground. "Let's go home."

[cherubunie]

Heyy Heard you got writers block can you do all the jjk men (toji especially cuz my man my man my mann) where the reader and them just got into an argument and says goodnight to each other I know this sounds weird but at the end of the day they still love each other lol if u already did this sorrrry!

hi love bug ! i’m sorry this took so long to answer 😭 college is NAWT fun. I did my best i hope that’s okay! 🤍 I did add a little twist into your request I hope that's alright!

broken then fixed ~ husband toji x reader

Toji Fushiguro and you have been married for a few years now, so you know what his job as an assassin is like. You're used to him coming home at odd hours in the morning, if he ever came home at all. He's usually out for weeks, and oftentimes months on a job. Despite his schedule, you agreed to marry him out of pure love the both of you shared. One tough night after coming home from a job that took him a couple months to complete, he seems to be in the worst mood you've seen him in, in a very, very long time. Due to this, you, and more so he, exchange some words that left open wounds on each other's hearts. Will you both be willing to patch up those wounds together, or will you have to do it alone?

word count: 3600 Toji Fushiguro x reader. Angst, yelling, crying, words of hatred, mentions of breaking up, mentions of death, toji very shortly thinks of having sex with you. Fluff. Toji is a bit sweeter than normal bc i love sweet men.

Toji and you have been married for the last five years. Your shared love is indescribably perfect despite his tough work schedule as an assassin. Despite this, your love continues to grow for each other every passing second. Some nights do get tough when you're away from your lover. Crying, glass after glass of wine, hugging his pillow and sleeping on his side of the bed. Other nights, you're just happy you have someone to protect, love, and cherish you the way Toji does. You admire everything about your husband, and the feeling is mutual, he loves you the exact way. 

When he's having a tough day on the job, all he does in order to pick himself back up is imagining the way your face lights up when he comes home. How you will more than likely have a home cooked meal all ready for him on the stove if you know the exact date he finds his way back to you. How your pussy makes him feel when he's inside you. When you're moaning his name as your fingers dig red, bloody trails down his toned back as he stuffs you full, taking his cock so well he could breed you for hours- but that's a different story. 

Although, tonight is different for him. He killed someone he wasn't supposed to kill today, a child. Four, maybe five years old. She was caught up in the midst of a brutal fight between him and his target, causing destruction all around him. And to make a long story short, he did end up killing who he was supposed to, but only to kill a little girl on the way to his goal. Toji seems like the type to not give a shit about something so small, but behind closed doors, he would never kill a child unless it absolutely had to be done. 

He puts up his walls when things like this happen, only for them to be torn down the moment his eyes find yours. That's what he loves most about you- how well you understand him and how forgiving you are. You make him feel safe, valid. He feels as though he can tell you anything, break down any wall, and all you do is listen and hold him as he finally lets down the mask. 

The guilt felt as if he was swallowing handfuls of glass. Sharp and painful as he opens the door to your shared house. The smell of something delicious hits him and it makes his stomach churn. 

He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to come home to the most perfect, beautiful woman on earth who treats him as if he is the most treasured person on the planet. He's angry with himself, and even though he sees you rounding the corner of the kitchen, his mask stays up and his head hangs low as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the hooks in the doorway. 

Your "welcome home my love" is early audible as the little girl's screams echo through his skull, consuming every part of his being. As Toji walks past you and into the living room, completely disregarding your existence. You can now tell that something has undeniably upset him. You don't take his actions to heart, your smile never falters as you turn your body to face him while your eyes follow his moving figure. He brings his hands up to his head as he stressfully runs his fingers through his black hair. 

You take a step towards him and your voice seems to be laced with sweetness as you speak to him.

"Honey, are you okay?" you ask him in the most sweetly filled concern he's ever heard, which breaks his heart even more. His teeth clench as his anger rises. 

Why do you have to be so sweet to me? Im a murderer for fuck sake. His thoughts eat away at him and he knows that if he looks at you, his walls will crack. 

"I can't." Is all he says, not turning around to look at you. Your face contorts to one of confusion at his words, not quite understanding the meaning of his short sentence. 

"Can't what, love?" The pet name you call him makes him want to break everything in the house. 

Make this short, Fushiguro.

"I can't keep this up anymore, y/n." His voice lacks emotion as he refuses to face you. Your heart clenches in your ribcage and suddenly your focus is undivided as your attention circulates onto Toji and Toji alone. 

You understand what he means, because he's talked about it before. Especially when he comes home from a tough job. You've always been able to reassure him, but this time feels different. Even though you understand completely, you still refuse to acknowledge it and play dumb. 

"I don't understand what you mean." You say, your voice never faltering from the sweet tone you speak. A low, gruntful huff escapes his throat as his frustration bubbles up. 

"We can't keep doing this, y/n." You feel as though the room is shrinking in on the both of you. It's suddenly stuffier as your chest begins to get heavier. You don't say anything, and that pisses him off. 

"I put you in danger, I put everyone in danger just by existing. I'm an assassin with an active target on my back." He takes a breath and in one swift motion, his hands fall to his sides, balling his hands into fists. 

"Please don't." your words are just below a whisper, but Toji can hear them. 

Believe me, baby. I don't want to. 

"I can't keep putting you in danger, it's selfish. We need to leave things here and never come back." His words are harsh as they leave his mouth, piercing straight into your heart. 

"Toji please. I don't want that." You speak, his ears ringing with your soft voice and the screams. 

"I do." Short and to the point. You aren't understanding now. He doesn't want you anymore? He doesn't love you? He doesn't care about you? So many things cloud your overthinking mind and everything is going a mile a minute. 

"Please don't. I don't care that you're an assassin, I don't care about your job. I don't care that you think I'm in danger! I know what you're capable of and I know that you protect me. I feel safe with you. Toji please don't, I'm begging you." You're frantic now. You haven't thought about your life without him, all you know is that you love him for who he truly is, and how safe you feel whenever you're in his presence. 

"That's the goddamn problem y/n. You're so blind sighted by how I present myself with you that you don't see the dangers of being with me. You're so caught up in what a happy, square marriage could be that you've gaslighted yourself into believing that you have one. I don't want this anymore, and I don't want you. I don't want what you think we have. I've had enough, y/n." His words send a punch to your gut and a thick crack to your heart, and suddenly it's too hard to breathe as your chest heaves. 

"You think it's easy being away from my own husband for so long? All the nights I've laid awake crying, scared that something will happen to you? How alone I feel for weeks on end?" You pause, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. 

"You wanna know how I get myself through those nights- weeks? It's the thought of you coming home to me. Feeling whole again whenever you're here. The house no longer feeling so big and empty. If we can get through those agonizing times of being apart, I know I can get through anything. All those arguments we've had just like this, we get through because I know I trust you, and I know damn well you feel the exact same." You take a breath before speaking again. 

"I trust you enough to be with you, because I know how dangerous your job is, and I know the sacrifices I have to make in order to be with you, that is why I agreed to marry you. That and the fact that I love you with all I am, Toji." He's silent, and this scares you. Every time an argument like this has happened, the both of you are fighting for each other, but this time is different. He's not fighting, you are. Alone. 

"Are you fucking stupid? How do I have to say it in order to make you understand? I don't care about our marriage, and I don't care about your love or trust. I don't want this. I don't want you. I'm tired of having these pointless conversations because with you, they never end. It's painful, really." Now it's your turn to be silent. A look of pain and regret clouds Toji's face as the words leave his mouth, but he has to land the finishing blow. 

"I don't love you, anymore y/n." 

Your emotions are all over the place. Anger, sadness, confusion. But you can't let him go, not yet. 

"Turn around and say it to my face." Your words are solid and demanding, and it honestly gives Toji chills. 

"I said, turn around and say it to my face, Toji." Your demand is clearer and more intimidating. 

I can't do it. 

He pauses for a minute, gathering himself and adjusting his mask before he turns around to look at you. His face is emotionless and solid. He looks you right in the eyes, his heart shattering in his chest at the sight of warm tears streaming down your perfect face, ruining your pretty mascara and light concealer. 

"I don't love you."

Your arms find their way to cross each other over your stomach, right below your breasts. almost as if you're trying to stop yourself from vomiting at his words. you're silent as he walks to the front door, your eyes staring off into space. He grabs his coat and walks out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him and as soon as he's out of the house, a loud sob erupts from the back of your throat and your breathing picks up the pace. You continue to sob as you walk into the kitchen, turning the stove off in a rushed manner. You pace around the kitchen, whines and cries leave your throat as you attempt to gather any rational thoughts. 

I'm not safe anymore. I won't see him again. Fuck you. Please don't leave me. 

They circulate around your brain and nothing else can calm you down. Your feet stop in their tracks as you see a picture frame on the table. 

Your wedding picture. Toji is holding you in his arms, and you're looking at the camera with the biggest, most genuine smile on your face. But what catches your eye is the look on his face, his eyes holding so much love as he looks directly at you in the picture. Your head starts hurting as your cries are filled with anger and betrayal. You storm over to the picture, pick it up and without even looking at it, you let out a loud grunt as you throw it at the front door. 

"Fuck you" you say to the shattered glass that now litters the floor. You rub your palms down your face and up through your hair, gripping hard as you tug on it. 

"Please don't leave me" you say to yourself and sink down onto the living room floor, your back against the soft couch the two of you picked out while you were furniture shopping before you moved into the place. 

You bring your knees to your chest and cry into your arms. Loudly. 

Words of "please don't leave me alone" and "I don't want you to go" echo off the walls of the house. You cry and cry for hours, begging to the empty house, your headache getting worse and before you know it, you're fast asleep on the floor in front of the couch. 

Little to your knowledge, Toji heard all of your cries and pleas. The longer it continued, the more he started to regret his decision. He wished there was an easier way to protect you, but alas, here you guys were. It was around 4 in the morning and he's still sitting with his back against the front door, trying to get himself to leave. but he just couldn't get himself to leave the woman he's in love with. 

All of the words he spoke were lies. Lies that will haunt him for the rest of his life. You were silent now, hinting to him that you had finally fallen asleep. He sat outside, staring out into the street. 

His thoughts overwhelming. 

He remembered how well he kept your marriage under wraps so that no harm would come your way, and none did. Nothing had ever happened to you in the five years of you guys being married. Nothing had ever happened to you in the 9 years of you being together in general. He was very good at making sure you were safe, but he didn't care. He would rather burn the world to the ground than have anything happen to you.

He remembered a conversation he had with an old friend of his before he had proposed to you, and it made him want to erase the last 6 hours of his life and start over. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to marry her?" He asks. 

"yes I do." 

"I just don't want anything to happen to her, you know?" Toji says with a huff. 

"I understand, yes. But you need to understand that life has an unavoidable expiration date. you never know when you, or someone else is going to die. You have to live to your fullest extent with no regrets. Are you going to regret marrying her, or regret letting her go and risk her being happy with someone else. Would you rather her die with someone else, or with you." He says, making Toji drown with thought.

"What if she dies because of me?" Toji speaks in hushed tones. 

"You know you can't protect everybody, but you're Toji, come on. You don't protect anyone but yourself. Actually, you do the opposite, you kill people, people who need killing that is. You've already decided to keep your marriage hidden, and you chose the best way to do that. You do whatever you think is best, but if I were you, I would marry the one person who truly understands and accepts you for who you are, because you never know when that expiration date will come. Living with the happiness in your life, because you truly can't gain it if you're observing it from afar." 

The thought of a life without you in it makes him not want a life at all. You drive him crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy and he loves it. 

He married you for a reason, your souls are tied, there is no reason to cut that string bounding you two together. 

Toji thinks for a moment, an idea popping into his head as he stands up, brushing his pants off in the process. It's a crazy idea, but he's gonna give it up anyways. 

If he had to choose between the love of his life and continuing his line of work, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

So that's exactly what he does. 

He turns around and opens the front door, immediately finding your passed out figure on the living room carpet. His heart pangs at the thought of you sleeping on the uncomfortable floor. 

He closes the door behind him and locks it. Walking over the broken glass and picture frame, he carefully picks up the photo of the two of you on your wedding day and his eyes start to sting. He gently walks around the broken glass and into the kitchen, propping the picture in the exact same spot, only this time he leans it up against the wall so it's up right. He makes a mental note to go and buy a new picture frame tomorrow and begins to dim the kitchen and living room lights before heading over to your sleeping body. 

He bends down and looks at you. Your face is so calm, he can't believe those loud and broken sobs came from your delicate lips and soft throat. He brushes a strand of hair off your tear stained cheeks and caresses your sweet face with the pad of his thumb, rubbing it over the tear marks streaming down your puffy cheeks. 

He carefully wraps one arm under your back, the other under your knees, picking you up bridal style. He stands up and starts heading into your shared room, kicking the door open gently. 

The sudden change of position stirs you awake, and the first thing you see is Tojis face. Your eyes instantly widen and you are almost convinced you're dreaming, you go to say something but his deep voice vibrates through your body, interrupting you.

"don't say anything baby, let me explain." You close your mouth as he sets you on the perfectly made bed the two of you share. He sits down in front of you and places his hand on your knee, looking directly at you. 

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really didn't mean anything I said. I shouldn't have said any of it actually." you stare at the man before you, not saying anything- you don't know what to say really, so you let him continue. 

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. what I said was completely false and I want to ask you for forgiveness. I don't regret this relationship, and I don't regret ever meeting you." He pauses, looking down at his hands. You feel a familiar sting in the back of your eyes. 

"I want you. I want all of you. Every single aspect of your being is everything I will ever need in this lifetime. I always thought that I would rather die than to let anything hurt you, but it was nobody other than me who did exactly that, and I will spend every second of this life time and the ones after making up for it." Fresh tears run down your cheeks, but your expression is blank. Toji leans closer, moving his hand from your knee, onto the plush of your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb and you don't even think of rejecting his touch. 

"You aren't stupid, nothing you do is anything remotely stupid. You're perfect. Everything you do is perfect. Your trust, your love, hell even the way you walk. You drive me absolutely crazy, y/n. I just-" he pauses, trying to say the right words.

"I thought that leaving would- I thought that leaving was the best available option I had in order to keep you safe, because I really do believe that everywhere I go, there is danger and destruction, and I don't want that to have any sort of effect on you" he takes a breath

"I don't want to imagine a life without you y/n because- because without you, I don't want one" you've never seen him stutter the way he's doing now, and you've never heard his voice break as much, and you can tell he's being serious. 

"Tell me what happened" you blurt out before he can say anything else. Toji stares at you, his jaw clenching and then unclenching. his eyes tore away from yours before he speaks.

"There was a little girl, she had pretty big brown eyes and golden hair. four, maybe five years old. She got in the middle of a fight on accident and before I could stop, I ended up killing her. I can't get her screams of pain out of my head before she dies. I kept imagining that little girl as you. Like if I didn't leave, you would end up the same way she did. or instead of you,,, she was- she was our daughter.." his voice trailed off and your expression softens. the two of you have never spoken of having children, but you've thought about it multiple times before and you never once disregarded the possibility. even thinking about it happening in the future makes you happy. 

"you wanna know how I know that would never happen?" He looks up at you, a single tear littering his cheek. 

"because I know the extent you're willing to go in order to protect me." you lean forward into his warm chest, gripping his shirt so tightly that if your grip were to falter, he would slip through your fingers. you cry into his chest and he strokes your head, pulling you into his lap. 

"shh baby, it's okay" he coos as you cry into him.

"I thought you were actually leaving" you sigh, the tense atmosphere melting away as the feeling of being complete in his arms begins to overflow

"I'm not baby, I'm here to stay. I'm so sorry, never again, I promise you."

You pull away from him and look down at the pair of wedding rings that shine on your fingers. 

"I love you, y/n, and this is where i'm going to stay, right here with you."

[herejusttosufferalong]

ust when I start to feel like I have a grip on what happened with the part 2 premiere and papgate, I learn or remember something that completely throws me. I feel like I need to lay out some evidence for my own mental clarity. 

I had a bad feeling something was brewing the night of the London premiere before the BackGrid pictures came out based on L’s energy on the red carpet. Here is evidence that SOMETHING was up.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRoTmvL4/ People have focused on how cute this is of N and LT, but it’s telling that LT and Claudia form a little huddle of love around her and Hannah joins in. People were feeling very protective of N that night. I can almost imagine LT whispering in her ear, “How are you doing?” and Nic saying with a smile plastered on her face, “He brought her.”

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRoT9dYE/ Some interpret this as Golda smirking at the lovebirds, but I have never seen anything other than pure disdain in her expression. She is thinking “You motherfucker” and you can’t convince me otherwise. 

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNbowwQu/ I was reminded of this clip here a few days ago and holy shit. Sam and Joanna are protectively huddled around N, the expression on Sam’s face as he looks directly at L is…not friendly, and I totally see the “stupid arse” thing. That’s not to mention L, who legitimately looks like he’s going to throw up. He is paranoid they are talking about him and, guess what, they are. 

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRoTvvuH/ Let’s not forget this little dig. N is too classy to reveal anything outright, but her response feels so pointed and L’s reaction is so awkward.  

A few more random thoughts about the night:

I can’t find clips right now that illustrate this, but I remember noticing that L was constantly flicking his eyes upwards throughout the red carpet. He was hyperconscious of the fact that A was watching him from up in that glass box AND that N and the cast knew A was up there.

It struck me recently that I hadn’t seen any pictures or videos of C or LT with LN on this red carpet. LN had a hug with HD and there were those documented moments with Simone, but I would find it very telling if we couldn’t find a single pic or video of C interacting with LN that night. Happy to be proved wrong on this one #showittomeRachel.

I know the official story is that N left the afterparty early because she started filming TMFT the next day, but let’s be real. This was the final event for HER season of Bton. This is a project she loves and a cast that she cares deeply about. If she had wanted to shut the party down, she would have. 

So far, all of this awkwardness could be explained simply by A’s presence and nothing at all related to the paparazzi. The thing that is still SO suspicious to me that makes me think L knew the paparazzi would be there when he left the party is that he was the last to leave the party. Think about everything you have ever read/heard about L in social situations. That sort of gathering is absolutely not his scene. He’s talked about how much he loves an Irish Goodbye. I also feel like it’s sort of cringey to be the last one at a party like that, especially if all of the other main actors have left, including your costar. Why would he have waited until literally everyone else had gone if not because he didn’t want anyone else around for the pap pics? I know people really don’t want to believe L was involved because it is shitty to think about, but I think there are too many odd things that stack up for him to have been blindsided by it. 

The thing that haunts me is that he seemed AWKWARD about everything that transpired that night. This was not a man who felt confident and in control of his life decisions. If this was meant to be the hard launch of a girlfriend, a million different things could have happened. He could have told interviewers how excited he was to have his mom, sister, and gf with him for the event. He could have put his arm around A, grabbed her hand, smiled at the camera, kissed A’s cheek, etc. while the cameras were flashing.

So, that leaves me convinced of two things: Luke knew the paparazzi would be there AND he didn’t want to be photographed with A (at least in a way that would confirm a serious relationship). After tossing around different explanations in my mind, here is what I have come up with.

L is a serial monogamist who really struggles to be alone. He kept A around during the WT because it gave him comfort and a feeling of power to know he had a romantic partner. This would have been important to him for various possible reasons: maybe N was attached to someone during this time and he didn’t want to be the single one; maybe N had rejected his advances and he wanted to seem unbothered; maybe neither he nor N had made a move on each other but he was feelings things towards N he didn’t know how to cope with and A was a distraction. Regardless, he kept A in the picture, though their relationship obviously had a LOT of asterisks surrounding it. He invited her to the premiere at a time when he was feeling especially insecure (for any of the reasons I mentioned above). In his mind, it was going to feel good to have her there. And I think at some point right before the premiere, she convinced him they needed to launch the relationship. If it’s true that something had been going on between them since the fall, then it had been at least eight months of her letting him keep her hidden in the shadows while he flirted shamelessly with his gorgeous soulmate–I mean costar–for the world to see. He agreed to this at a time when he wasn’t secure in whatever he and N had and couldn’t find a compelling reason to say no to A’s request. 

But I think he underestimated two things:

1) How shitty it would feel to have A at the premiere as his date after getting so close to N in those last few legs of the tour. I think Ireland especially shifted something and he realized not just how much N meant to him but, very importantly, how much he meant to N.

2) How much N would care about A’s presence. I think N must have played it very cool about A during the tour. Either didn’t really acknowledge her or brought her up in a casual way to show she was unbothered. But I think the sequence of Brazil, Toronto, and especially Ireland hit N hard and she became emotionally invested in (and available to?) L in a way that she hadn’t let herself be before. I’m not sure she said anything to him, but I think they could both feel it. A’s presence at the prem ended up feeling like a slap in the face to N in a way that L did not anticipate. 

I think L initially thought that having A at the premiere would be a confidence boost, but having her there backfired. He didn’t realize how awkward and embarrassed he would feel by A’s presence. When it’s just L and A  or when they’re with R and S, L doesn’t feel as self-conscious about things like A’s age, her SM antics, her unseriousness. But when he, N, and A are all in the same space, the silliness of his relationship with A and the differences between N and A really hits him. Frankly (and I don’t say this to be cruel to A), I think he feels mortified about N witnessing his relationship with A up close and personal. So I think what we’re witnessing at the red carpet and in the pap pics is a man who committed to a plan (inviting A and setting up the pics) at a time when he felt a) insecure in his connection with N, 2) unaware of how much N cared about him, and 3) unaware of how much he would care about N’s opinion of him (sorry, that’s convoluted). We know he is not a decisive person, so he let this nightmare scenario play out and is now living with the consequences of his passivity. 

That is ALL TO SAY: I think it’s possible to believe that L was involved with the pap pics AND that he cares about N/didn’t want to hurt her/is totally in love with her. Anyone else out there who feels like it’s possible to hold these two truths in your head at once?

so this is more of a take I saw floating around in the wake of it all

curious to see how it lands with y'all now

[scoobydoodean]

I have 2 spn accounts, a Deancentric blog that ships Destiel and another account that unintentionally follows a lot of Samgirl blogs. So one blog follows majority Deangirl blogs and the other incidentally follows a lot of Samgirl blogs. And here's the major difference I've noticed on the different dashboards.

Deangirl dashboard: Great meta analysis. Beautiful art. Level 1 and 2 headcanons (largely based in canon). Pro-Dean. Stumble across reblogs of Deancrit. Bitter Deangirl blogging. Generally fair portrayal and discussion of the positive and negative traits and actions of Dean, Sam and Cas. Deanhater anons.

Samgirl dashboard: An entirely different pool of beautiful art. Whole lotta woobie!Sam art where Dean is his abuser. Deancrit about Dean being an abuser. Bitter Samgirl blogging about how people will find any excuse to hate Sam. "How can anyone be Samcrit he has done nothing wrong ever." Level 5 headcanons (you literally ignored canon to make that up). More about how Dean is Sam's abuser. So many posts about how awful Samcrit is. "Do Deangirls really think that Dean cries himself to sleep at night thinking that ppl thinks he doesn't know how to read." I have yet to see any actual Samcrit posts (not even links or reblogs from Sam defenders), not even after literally searching the Samcrit tag for it. The Samcrit tag is full of Samgirls crying about Samcrit and no actual Samcrit. "Samgirls are feral, but we need to be bc of the hate ppl throw Sam's way."

I literally have to block so many people on the incidentally Samgirl dashboard bc I'm not on Tumblr to randomly stumble across a post on how Dean is a toxic stalker who abused Sam by changing Amelia's number in his cellphone. Do you have any idea on why Samgirls seem to feel so attacked all the time even though I literally only ever see *them* attacking Dean?

If you dig deep enough into any fandom, you will encounter people who fetishize "helpless victimhood". Some fandoms attract more people with those particular proclivities than others. Supernatural and Sam in particular attracts people who hold those sorts of aesthetic interests because of his relationship toward accountability versus Dean's.

Dean is a character with an overactive sense of responsibility. He blames himself for the Lindbergh baby and unemployment and every child murdered by a shrtiga from 1990 to 2005 because he went to play an arcade game when he was 10. He also blames himself for things like Jessica dying and Sam not being in school. Other characters pile on this blame frequently. John blames Dean for Sam getting hurt (1.18). Ruby tells him (and Sam) that Sam is a weak baby who won't psychologically survive without Dean there to protect him (3.11). Meg alleges that Dean is "dragging Sam everywhere" (1.16). Sam rewrites reality from 1.05 to 1.21 to make Dean responsible for his burning desire for revenge. Cas and Zachariah and Gabriel blame Dean when Sam breaks the last seal because he didn't stop Sam in time. Sam blames Dean for him drinking demon blood first because Dean wasn't there to protect him and then—in a complete 180—because Dean is smothering (4.04, 5.05). Dean generally absorbs blame when it is piled at his feet because he has been blamed for things he couldn't control for most of his life and thus he feels guilty and responsible for things even when him being responsible makes no logical sense. He's never a victim of anything—everything is always on him.

Sam, on the other hand, tends to eventually deflect blame because he can't handle the gnawing bite of it for long. It reminds him too deeply of being left isolated and alone as a child and the feelings of otherness and wrongness he developed through that neglect. When his actions ultimately have consequences he didn't foresee and/or that he finds undesirable, it makes him feel ugly and unaccepted and he can't face it so he eventually finds a way to make what happened someone else's fault—usually Dean's fault. Nothing is ever on him. He's always at least a little bit of a victim and Dean always carries at least partial responsibility for his decisions (1.21, 1.08, 4.04, 5.05, 8.23, 11.01)

In other words, Sam has an under-active sense of responsibility and Dean has an overactive responsibility and that dynamic—driven by their childhood experiences—places them into a vicious cycle of blame being cast onto Dean for Sam's decisions and Dean absorbing it. Dean absorbing it reinforcing the narrative for samgirls with a victimhood fetish that Dean deserves blame and that Sam truly is a helpless baby. They never watch what actually happens on the show to see whether this narrative that Dean is responsible for everything and Sam is a helpless baby lines up with the actual events that occurred onscreen because why would they? That would ruin their enjoyment. Sam isn't interesting to them outside of his capacity to be mourned as some sort of helpless martyr. And yes—they will cry and moan about how horrible and unfair Sam's suffering is, but it isn't because they're having a bad time. They're having a great time. They love thinking about Sam that way. They wouldn't be here blogging about it day in and day out for the last 20 years if they didn't actually want to see exactly what they're seeing.

Related tags of note:

#sams motivations

#taurus sam in the flesh

#In which Sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea

#sam the hunter

#sams follower/leader false dichotomy

#parentification

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 30: Fame and Fortune

Words: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: language

Summary: When rockstar Eddie and his actress wife go to buy a sports car, their salesman has a familiar face

@corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie didn’t think his life could get much better. He’s a Grammy Award winning rockstar in a band with his best friends, he’s married to you, a smoking hot Oscar Award winning actress, and you two have your dream life all planned out. Where you want to live, how many kids you want to have, and even what cars you want to drive.

Which leads you to a Ferrari dealership in Chicago. It’s not where you live, but if you happen to find a car you fall in love with, you have more than enough money to have it delivered to your home.

The two of you step into the pristine white building, Eddie’s hand held snugly in yours. A dealer makes his way out of the offices in the back to greet you, and you hear Eddie let out a surprised scoff. You turn your head to look at him in question, but he’s looking straight ahead at the shorter man approaching you.

“Well, long time no see,” Eddie says once the man is close enough.

The salesman looks cowed. There’s a pained pinch to his face, like Eddie is the last person he wants to see and this is the last place he wants to be.

“Welcome in,” the man says. He looks from your husband to you. “My name is Jason. What can I help you with today?”

Eddie’s hand falls from your own and he stretches his arm out and over your shoulders. A glance in his direction shows a satisfied smirk on his pretty face.

“The wife and I would like to purchase a new car. Thought we’d test drive some Ferrari’s and see if anything catches our attention.”

“Uh, sure,” Jason says, slipping his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I’ll meet you outside and we’ll take a look at some cars?”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says.

He steers you towards the side door while Jason heads toward the offices.

The shit-eating grin on your husband’s face confuses you and the moment you step outside, you question him.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“That shrimp is one Jason Carver,” he says as you wander between cars.

It takes a moment for the name to click. You skid to a stop, causing Eddie’s arm to slip from your shoulders.

“That’s the guy who was such an asshole to you in high school?”

The shock on your face only adds to Eddie’s giddiness.

“That’s him.”

“Ugh,” you groan as you start to walk through the sea of Ferrari’s again.

“Aw, baby!” It’s Eddie’s turn to come to a halt. He grabs your hands and excitedly bounces on the balls of his feet. “Can we please, please, please act like douchey rich snobs? You’re an actress, think of it as an exercise.”

You can’t help but laugh. He drops your hands and you reach up to cup his face.

“Let’s fuck with the asshole,” you agree.

By the time Jason comes out to meet you, you and Eddie have narrowed it down to two different cars you’d like to test drive: a red Ferrari and a yellow one.

Eddie slips into the driver’s seat for the test drive of the red one. As soon as he pulls out onto the main road and lets it get up to speed, he prompts you for the first bit of fake snobbery.

“What do you think, sweetheart?”

A long-suffering sigh escapes your lips as you lean back in your seat, wearing the most bored facial expression that you can manage.

“Ferraris have a reputation for speed,” you say, “but they don’t have the same level of meticulous craftsmanship found in an Aston Martin.”

Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from laughing. This act is so in contrast to your true personality last night when you found a fun sized KitKat in the bottom of your purse and were excited about it for the rest of the day.

“Ferrari’s have a more aerodynamic design than Aston Martins, which allows them to have a more aggressive and efficient performance,” Jason says from the back seat.

You don’t bother with a response, only humming a small, uninterested “mm” before turning your head to gaze out the window.

When you arrive back at the dealership, it’s your turn to get behind the wheel of the yellow sports car and Eddie’s turn to come up with obnoxious things to say.

“It’s really minimalist in here, isn’t it?” Eddie asks, inspecting the dials and buttons built into the dashboard. “You wouldn’t even know it’s a Ferrari if you didn’t look at the emblem on the steering wheel.”

“And it doesn’t ride as smoothly as the Porsche I drove in my last movie,” you add.

“Was it a prop car?” Jason asks.

You let out an offended snort.

“Absolutely not. You think I can’t tell the difference?”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant to imply,” Jason says apologetically.

It’s the closest you and Eddie come to bursting out laughing.

“Was that in the superhero movie, baby?” Eddie asks.

“Hmm? Oh no, I drove a Lamborghini in that one,” you brag. “Which also rode smoother than this.”

This time when you get back to the dealership, Jason can’t get out of the car fast enough. You and Eddie share an amused look as you trail behind him back towards the building. Something tells you that Jason is going to be getting a drink after work tonight.

“So, what did you really think, babe?” you ask Eddie quietly, slipping your arm around his waist.

“I actually really liked the red one,” he admits with a laugh. “I’d hate to give him commission on a sale, though.”

“Aww, Eds,” you coo. “But then you’ll be the bigger man.”

“True.” Eddie considers. “Eh, what the hell? Then I can also hold being the bigger person over himl.”

You can’t help but giggle. It’s not exactly what you meant, but you can hardly blame him.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Hey, neighbor

Masterlist

Pairing: Jason Todd x (f) reader

Tags: neighbors, close proximity, sexual tension, roommates, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, touching, fluff, domestic

Chapter 3: Spending so much time with Jason in close proximity is distracting. Poison Ivy breaks into the safe house and kisses you with her toxin, knowing you'll do whatever she tells you. And what she tells you to do...

You woke up in a strange place, disoriented and confused. You took in your surroundings: a loft with exposed brick walls, minimalist furniture, and a cleanliness that felt almost military. The events of the previous day crashed into your mind like a tidal wave, and your heart sank. The vial, the body, your formula. Guilt and fear twisted inside you.

You sat up, wearing clothes that weren't yours—an oversized t-shirt with a Guns N Roses album cover on the front and sweatpants, both too big for your frame. Red Hood had given them to you last night. You remembered his voice, calm and authoritative. You were in his safe house, you remembered. Hiding from the world that might condemn you for murder.

The door opened, and Red Hood stepped in, carrying a gym bag. Your gym bag.

He paused when he saw you awake.

"Morning," he said, his voice low, tired. You presumed he had been out all night getting your things. Then he'd confirmed, "I brought some of your clothes."

"Thanks," you replied, your voice small. You got up off the couch and accepted the bag and rummaged through it, finding familiar items. It felt strange, intimate even, knowing he had gone through your things.

Seeing you in his clothes did something to Jason. The shirt hung off your shoulder, and his sweats hung loosely at your hips, emphasising how much smaller you were compared to him. He felt a surge of adoration, mingled with a sense of possessiveness. He even began to regret bringing you your clothes, not minding the idea of you wearing his for a bit longer.

"I'm sorry about everything," you said, your voice trembling. "I never meant for this all to happen."

"It wasn't your fault," he replied firmly, his tone effortlessly intimidating. "You were set up."

You looked up at him, confused. "How do you know?"

He hesitated. "I don't. I guess you could say it's a hypothesis."

You recounted the events of the previous day, the death, the chance encounter with your professor. What if she had told someone she saw you.

What you were unaware of was that Jason had already broken into Dr. Harrison's place, gathering enough blackmail to ensure her silence. He figured that his threat and the broken wrist were enough to persuade her. He didn't want to burden you with those details.

"It's strange," you admitted, “you having to hide your face in your own home.” You looked down at your hands. "I understand why you can't reveal your identity, but..."

An idea struck you. Digging through the bag, you found an old silk scarf you'd sighted there. "What if I wear a blindfold? You could take off your helmet without me seeing you. You should be able to, anyway. It's your home, not mine."

Red Hood considered this. The thought of removing his helmet and letting his guard down was both terrifying and tempting. He took the scarf from your hands, inspecting it, and confirmed it wasn't sheer before handing it back.

You tied the scarf around your head, making sure you couldn't see anything. "Okay, ready."

You heard the sound of him removing his helmet, a soft hiss of released air. There was a moment, then his voice, softer now, more human. "Can you see anything?"

"No," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's completely dark."

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put his hands in his pockets.

You tilted your head, trying your best to have a look, only to come up short. “I dont know.”

He smirked. “Perfect.”

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

“Can you think of anyone who'd want to sabotage you?” Jason asked as he guided you to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, taking out bread and butter. He was starving from his shitty night.

You considered his question, standing barefoot on the cool parquet of his kitchen.

You told him about your co-workers and lab partners and how you perceived behavior towards you. As you spoke, you heard the sound of pen on paper every once in a while, jotting down details.

You began to pace, making small steps as you tried to provide sufficient details. At one point, you stumbled, and he caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

He liked having you in his arms, feeling your warmth against him. He wished he could tell you who he really was, to share more than just his alter ego with you. But for now, this was enough. He would keep you safe, no matter what.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Jason watched you navigate the room with his guidance, the oversized clothes making you look cute in a way that amused him. He couldn't help but notice how you seemed out of place yet oddly endearing in his loft.

He remembered the first words you spoke to him last night, smiling to himself.

"So,” he began, feeling bold. “I'm 'your hero'?"

There was a teasing edge to his voice, and you felt a flush creep up your neck.

"I-um-well..." You stammered, trying to find the right words. "It was just... you saved me. Twice now, actually."

“Really?” Jason chuckled, a deep sound that made you squirm. "When was the first time?"

You bit your lip, feeling embarrassed. "It was my first year at uni. A group of us went out, and we ended up at a bar. And then some big, creepy guys circled me when I left to get some air."

Jason's attention sharpened. He didn't speak, letting you continue.

You took a deep breath. "I was scared, but then you showed up. You didn't even do much - you didn't soeak. Just lifted your guns and made a show of aiming them at them,” you chuckled at the thought. “And they ran. You were so badass!"

He smirked, enjoying your giddiness and the way you blushed.

You smiled, though he couldn't see it. "I never forgot that night."

Jason couldn't recall the incident, which made sense. There had been no fight, no trouble—nothing memorable. But hearing your story, seeing how much it meant to you, made him feel something unexpected.

"Glad I saved you twice," he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.

You blushed deeper, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. The embarrassing part was that you'd imagined how you'd run into him again at least a hundred times in your mind. And when you finally did run, you babbled like an idiot, and on top of that, had pulled him into your trouble. “I just hate being so fucking helpless sometimes, you know?”

He stepped closer. "There's something you can help me with."

You blinked in surprise behind your blindfold.

"Help me investigate this. Find out who set you up." He said.

A lot was on your mind. You were grateful he believed your innocence. You were scared to touch the formula again, but you couldn't deny the burning curiosity to analyse it that circled your mind.

"Okay."

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Jason enjoyed the way you reacted to him, the way a simple touch could make you blush and squirm.

At times, he would conduct experiments of his own. Touches that to you could seem innocent and accidental, but we're entirely intentional.

One evening, after a long day of working on the formula, you and him sat together on the grey couch in his loft. His mask was off. You wore your makeshift blindfold. You'd gotten used to the silk scarf over the past few days.

“What can you tell me about Elizabeth Langstrom?” He asked casually.

You put down your cup of tea. "She's my head of research. She's really smart. I go to her for help."

"So she's a mentor to you.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

You thought about it. “She came over to drop off some samples I asked for… before I went out to the club.” You realised out loud.

He hummed. “Did she give you anything before you went out that night? Something you might have overlooked?"

You hesitated, the edge in his voice making you shiver. "No, I don’t think so."

Jason leaned in closer. You felt his body heat closer to you. "Think carefully. Could she have slipped the vial into your purse?"

You were quick to deny his acusation. "No, she wouldn’t do that. She’s always been kind to me."

Jason’s fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch lingering with an unsettling intimacy. The closeness and his commanding presence made your heart race.

Her reactions are priceless, he thought, Every flinch, every stammer—it’s all so… fascinating.

You were trying so hard to hold it together.

"You sure about that?" He continued, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "People wear masks, y/n. They show one face to the world while hiding another. I think she could be hiding something from you. And I think you think so too.”

You felt your skin flush, your voice trembling. "I don’t believe she would. She’s always been kind."

Jason’s hand trailed down your neck, his fingers grazing your skin with a deliberate, chilling touch. The intensity of his presence, combined with the lack of sight, heightened your vulnerability.

She’s scared… why? he mused, although I suppose it could come in handy… fear makes people easier to control

It sure worked on Harrison. And half the crime scene in Gotham, who he held in the palm of his hand. But he didn't want to control you, did he? He craved control in every aspect of his life. But with you… he wasn't sure…

His proximity and the deliberate nature of his touch made it difficult for you to think clearly.

"I- I don’t know." You swallowed. "Maybe she did, but I can’t be sure. Why would she betray me?"

"People betray each other for all sorts of reasons," he said. "Maybe she wanted something you had, or maybe she was pressured into it. I need to find out the truth. Can you remember anything else?"

You searched your mind. "She didn't seem threatened. She was calm. The same she always was. We had a good talk about my thesis. She said that I could change everything." You smiled at the memory.

Your giddiness was cut short by a mental image of the dead thug, branches sprouting out of his body.

"It could" his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I need to talk to her." You spoke up suddenly, conveying the urgency in your voce. "I need to hear her thoughts about the formula."

"I cant let you do that." He interjected.

"I trust her, red." You insisted, trying out the nick name for the first time.

"Trust is a luxury we can’t afford." He responded. "We find the truth, or we pay the price."

“How do I know I can trust you then,” you whispered in challenge.

“You can always trust your instincts y/n.” He explained. “And your instincts are telling you I would never hurt you.”

The intensity of the moment left you unsettled. Because he was right.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

The next evening, Jason decided it was time to investigate Elizabeth Langstrom's apartment. Armed with the information you had given him, he made his way to the upscale part of Gotham where she lived.

Meanwhile, you were home alone. Comfortable in one of your short sundresses, trying to distract yourself with television.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle but firm hand turn your chin. Before you could react, a pair of soft lips pressed against yours. You jumped back in surprise, your heart racing as you recognized the intruder.

"Dr. Langstrom?" you gasped, staring wide-eyed at your head of research. Her presence was unsettling, her sudden appearance leaving you breathless.

Dr. Langstrom smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Y/N," she chastized softly. "You haven't come to speak to me for the past week. Is everything alright?"

You had too many questions. How had she found out where you were hiding? Why did she kiss you? How did she break in?

You tried to step back, but the room began to feel dreamlike, your head spinning. An inexplicable wave of happiness and vulnerability washed over you. You struggled to piece together what was happening, the suspicion growing in your mind that Dr. Langstrom had somehow drugged you.

"What are you doing here?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling but laced with a giggle.

Dr. Langstrom’s eyes sparkled as she avoided your question, instead reaching out to caress your cheek. "I just wanted to see you," she cooed playfully. "I’ve missed you."

Her touch was both soothing and unsettling, the drug making you pliant to her manipulations. Your thoughts became hazy, and you found yourself smiling, unable to resist her advances.

"I want you to do something for me, y/n," Dr. Langstrom whispered, her lips close to your ear. "I want you to kiss the Red Hood. Until you’re both breathless."

The words echoed in your mind, and despite the sinister undertone, you found yourself nodding, feeling oddly agreeable. "Kiss the Red Hood... until we’re both breathless," you repeated, the drug making it seem like the most delightful request.

Dr. Langstrom chuckled, a playful edge to her voice. "Good girl. Now, forget that you saw me tonight. You never saw me."

Her words seeped into your consciousness, the command taking hold as the drug dulled your senses. You nodded again, feeling the fog of forgetfulness settle over your mind.

"I never saw you," you repeated obediently, a blissful look on your face.

Dr. Langstrom gave you one last, lingering caress before turning and leaving your apartment. You stood there for a moment, the room spinning around you, before collapsing onto the couch, your mind a haze of happy confusion and compliance.

You waited eagerly for the moment he'd come back home.

[runnning-outof-time]

K! I'm sorry this is so late, but congratulations on 3.5K! I'm so happy for you and there's no one more deserving of such a milestone. I'll always be in your corner. Here's to the next 3.5K! 🥳🥂

For the 3 word list, could you do #23 - “You’re bleeding, (name).” - with Tommy? Thank you and congratulations again!

(1 of 2)

Thanks for sending this in and for your kind words, Bri! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write this for you. I just had to get some season 5 Tommy in here (even though the hype has surely died down by now). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Sometimes It’s Still Required

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, drinking, a terrible summary

Word Count: 916

Summary: (Y/N) finds Tommy sitting at her vanity one evening.

(Y/N) Shelby found her husband in the last place she expected him: sitting at the vanity, which was usually reserved for her, in their master bedroom. He had his palms rested on his knees and his gaze was cast down onto the floor.

She shut the door and proceeded towards him with caution.

“I didn’t expect to find you in here,” she said when she was a few steps away from him, making herself known before she was right behind him. Tommy lifted his gaze and turned slightly to find his wife approaching him. He didn’t say anything, just nodded to show that he heard her. “Calling it an early night?” she asked a question as she stopped behind him.

“It was a long day,” he answered her indirectly, reaching forward to grab the glass of whiskey so that he could take a healthy drink from it.

“Is there anything that I can do for you?” (Y/N) asked as she set her hands on his shoulders and pressed her fingers into his shirt-covered skin.

“No,” his answer came like a breath. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back against his wife’s midsection, thankful to spend some time with her after the hectic day he had.

(Y/N) looked down at him with a soft smile. She was thankful that she could have one of these quiet moments with him. He’d been away for a lot of the days now that he had to be present in Parliament and out among his constituents.

Silence filled the room as (Y/N) continued with massaging his shoulders, trying her best to get the noticeable knots out. The silence persisted until Tommy brought his hand up to run across his face. (Y/N) happened to be looking down at the time, and what she saw surprised her - even though it shouldn’t have at this point.

“You’re bleeding, Tommy,” she commented on the red splotches that were scattered across the back of his hand. She could even see some on the white cuffs of his dress shirt.

“‘S not my blood, love,” Tommy didn’t even open his eyes to take a look at what his wife was talking about.

A sigh left (Y/N)’s lips before she could stop it. The sound of it made Tommy open his eyes. (Y/N) looked down at him with a frown before she explained the reason behind her initial response: “I thought you were finished with that kind of stuff, Tommy,” she said, hating that there was disappointment present in her tone.

“Sometimes it’s still required,” he responded, brushing her concern off.

“Tommy…”

It was obvious that that wasn’t the response she wanted to hear. Tommy lifted his head and turned slightly on the chair so that he could look at her. “Hey, it wasn’t anything serious. Arthur cut his hand on the bar and needed help cleanin’ it up,” he acted quick on his feet and came up with a story of how the blood got on his hand.

(Y/N) pursed her lips. She knew that that wasn’t really what happened. She’d been with Tommy long enough to know that there could have been one hundred explanations for the blood. Usually she would dig to find the correct answer. But she wasn’t in the mood tonight. Tonight she was just thankful that he made it home.

“Are you going to clean it up?” she asked after a few moments had passed. A look flashed across Tommy’s face. It was almost as though he was surprised that she’d let the matter rest.

“I will,” he nodded in response.

“Now?” she asked for specifics.

“When I get ready for bed.”

“Which will be now?” she still wasn’t satisfied with the answer he’d given her.

“Soon, love,” he told her, a smile tugging the right corner of his lips upwards as he stood from the chair and turned to face her. She kept her hands rested on his shoulders as he secured his to the sides of her waist.

The couple stared lovingly at each other, basking in the warmth that their bodies were giving off.

“I love you,” Tommy mumbled then, breaking the reverie surrounding them. If there had been any other noise in the room, she would have missed his three word phrase, but she heard him loud and clear in the silence.

“I love you,” (Y/N) responded, repeating what he’d just said to her, “I just wish you’d leave the blood in the past,” she added, sending him a pointed look after she spoke.

Tommy chuckled at her expression, leaning in to press his lips to hers in a languid kiss. “It’ll be left in the past,” he whispered against her lips before pressing his back to them, so as to seal the ‘promise’.

The look was still present on (Y/N)’s face when they pulled away, although it wasn’t as prevalent as before. She knew that this was something that he couldn’t wholeheartedly promise to her. There would always be a chance that he would have blood on his hands…it just came with the paths he chose. But right now she chose to take him at his word.

“Go wash up,” she said to him, jerking her head in the direction of the bathroom as a soft smile formed on her face.

“Ok,” he breathed, leaning in and stealing one last kiss from her before he let her go for the bathroom.

Tags will be added in separate reblogs so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[angelfrombeneth]

EXES - T . NOTT & M . RIDDLE - PART 1

Mattheo Riddle/Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Summary: Theodore and you are exes. You didn't end on a super bad note, but things were said. After 2 years you're at a Slytherin party and get a bit carried away. But with who? ...You decide

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and cursing

Part 1 > Part 2 (Theo) : Part 2 (Mattheo)

You and Theodore had been together from 2nd year to 4th. It wasn't until the pair of you had a huge argument that you called it quits midway through 4th year. You were friends with his friends but you distanced yourself slightly after the break up. Becoming friends with different people. It wasn't that you and Theo were on bad terms, it was more you were young and immature and didn't know how to love properly.

It was now 6th year, 2 years after you both had broken up. It was way better, both of you had moved on - some more than others and could be in a room together without someone getting hurt. But you always find the time to dig at the boy.

You had become friends again with them all, feeling comfortable around them.

"Hey Y/N" Pansy smiled as she leaned against the lockers with Theo and Enzo.

"Hey, you OK?" You smiled as you reached up to unclasp the claw clip from your hair, letting it fall.

"Yeah! We are having a Slytherin party later if you're interested in coming" She smiled at you.

"You gotta be there Y/N/N! It'll be a hit" Enzo smiled.

You laughed at the pair of them. "Maybe not tonight guys, I've got to study" You looked at Theo, wondering why he wasn't looking at you.

"Whats with the face like a slapped arse, Nott?" You quirked your eyebrow up at him.

"I had a dream about you, last night you know" He looked up at you, the way he stared at you as if you two were the only people in the whole hall.

"OK? And I care because?" You laughed slightly staring at him, your arms crossed against your chest.

"It genuinely felt so real" At this point Pansy and Enzo has moved a bit away giving you two privacy, expecting this to be your argument that you have once a day.

"OK? What happened then" You scoffed, tapping on your heel impatiently.

"We got back together.." Theo reached his hand up to his neck, scratching it as he spoke.

You froze looking at him as you burst out laughing, bending over slightly. "What a fucking nightmare!" You giggled as you walked away from him.

Theodore wasn't a terrible boyfriend but he had a lack of awareness. He took the title of boyfriend but didn't do anything boyfriend worthy. No kisses, no cuddles, no anything. The two of you were together for two years and had barely held hands. Yes, you were young, of course you wouldn't of hooked up, but you wanted atleast a kiss. You believe Theo is starting to regret his younger self because these comments became frequent. Very fucking frequent. Despite his weekly turned nightly escapades with random girls - all he could think about was you.

A few days later you found yourself yet again in the same corridor but it was just Theo this time.

"Hey Y/N-" He shouted, you stopped in your tracks to turn and face him.

"What is it Nott" you groan.

"You free tonight?" He looked at you, leaning against the wall. "Slytherin party"

"I guess I can make time" You crossed your arms looking at him. "Who's asking"

"Me duh" He rolled his eyes. "You're amazing ex boyfriend"

"Only ex boyfriend I have is the spawn of satan" You snorted. His face fell and a look of shock took over. "See you at the party, Notty boy" You skipped away.

The Slytherin party was a hit. You hadn't been to one in fucking forever because you just felt weird I guess. The one time you did, you just felt so.. out of place you left early. The drinks were flowing, smoke from the machine but also cigs filled the room. A Slytherin party was the party where everything would go down.

It wasn't even 5 minutes after being there and you felt a hand on your waist. You turn around to see Mattheo and laugh. "You've clearly had too much to drink already, Matty" You chuckle, poking his chest.

"Not enough to keep me away from you" He smiled as you rolled your eyes and laughed. "Dance with me?" You nodded, walking to the centre of the room with Mattheo.

Mattheo is Theodore's bestfriend so you expected when you both broke up for him to ice you out. Surprisingly he didn't it, he says it's because your 'too smoking hot to ignore' but deep down you both have a good bond. The pair of you used to hang out alot because of Theo that you got to know him, really well.

Now hooking up with Mattheo, wasn't a bad idea but you just didn't want to get messy. It wasn't like you and Theo were going to get back on track. But then you did let the idea plague your mind a few times, besides you were looking hot tonight in a tiny black skirt, practically a belt and a bikini top, so why not.

As you danced with Mattheo, his hands were constantly on your waist, moving with your hips to the beat as he smirked down at you. He's quite hot actually. Fuck was it the alcohol?

You pressed your back to his chest as you slowly moved your body down his, grinding your ass into his pelvis as you bent over slightly. Mattheo was feeling it, his hands were all over your body grabbing up on you.

Maybe it wasn't so bad....

Choose your boy:

(Part 2 will include smut no matter which one you choose)

(A hyperlink to the chapters will be posted once they are out)

Mattheo || Theodore

[realisticjupiter]

heyy! I just miss your writing ;) so i'm here to ask for drunk chishiya who suddenly comes to the reader's house at midnight and relieves his stress on her? (can be fluff or smut, you decide)

ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: a drunk chishiya waking you up in the middle of the night, was definitely the last thing you'd guess.

ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader

ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff

ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: drunk!chishiya , lmk if anything else

ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 850

A/N: okay listen . . . I might've gotten a bit off track. BUT, I kind of like it?!! I also decided on fluff since he's drunk but, hey, I'm down for a pt2 if you are!!

Lost in a daze of sleep, peaceful and calm as you shut your eyes and allowed yourself to fall into the void of darkness people called sleep.

That was all interrupted by the loud banging of the front door. Your first thought was to ignore it; it was in the middle of the night and you couldn't be bothered.

But it didn't just stop the first time, it happened again, and once more before you finally--and annoyingly, got up from bed to see who could be so inconsiderate.

When you opened your door, you fully expected it to be some stranger, or someone informing you of some terrible news that was so important that it couldn't wait until morning.

You definitely didn't expect it to be Chishiya.

The white haired man standing outside your door, his hair disheveled and his dark eye bags visible under the moonlight. It wasn't just out of character for him to be standing outside your door, but you could smell the stench on his clothing; he was drunk.

"Chishiya?" Your voice was soft from the past action of your interrupted sleep, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand as you tried to decipher what was in front of you.

"Can I come in?" Chishiya muttered with a broken tone, his gaze never meeting your eyes as he stood there; unsure of what to do with himself.

"Uh--i guess..." You replied, taking a step to the side as a confused look found its way onto your face. "What are you doing here?" You asked as you watched him walk past you, his unsteady balance becoming obvious with each step.

"I don't usually drink..." He whispered to himself, his palms pressing into his eyes as if he was trying to pop them back into his skull. Doing anything to get this feeling he had to go away.

"Yeah, I know. You never saw a point in it, at least--that's what you told me." You shrugged, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He won't be able to bring himself home walking around like that..

"I don't!" Chishiya's voice was far more stern when he spoke, his head turned towards you as he did so. He didn't have much time to react to himself, just standing there like some type of horror movie.

"Okay.." You nodded, trying your best to keep a soft tone. "Everything okay?" You finally asked, taking small steps towards him. You felt like you were walking on eggshells. You've never seen him drunk, hell--you don't even think he's ever been drunk. You had no idea how he'd act in this state, and you were almost afraid to find out.

"No, everything's not okay. You think I'd be drunk if they were?" His words were sharp, digging into every spot his mouth could hold.

"You're right." You nodded, stopping a foot in front of him. "What's not okay, Shuntaro?" Your words came out in a whisper this time, you wanted him to feel more comfortable. Switching his name was a way of telling him that he could be, at least you hoped that's how he'd take it.

"I don't want to be drunk anymore." He groaned, his eyes moved away from you to aim behind your body. Spotting the couch under the dim light that casted from behind the curtains.

He didn't hesitate to walk past you and towards the comfortable couch that was calling his name.

"Chi--Shuntaro." You called out for him, not doing much as he sat down but quickly changed positions to spread his body across it.

You honestly felt bad for Chishiya. It must've been really bad if he felt the need to break the promise he had on himself. You almost felt glad that he didn't like being drunk, but you were also afraid if it happened again--he'd come to enjoy it.

"How do I make it go away?" He asked, his tone had completely changed. He sounded sincere, like he truly needed an answer or he'd go more insane than he already has.

You sighed walking towards him, stopping at the head of the couch to look down on him. "Get some rest, you'll probably wake up with an undeniable urge to throw your brains out. Bathroom is down the hall." You tried to be humorous with your words, but it was obvious he wasn't having it.

"I forgot about hangovers." He mumbled, turning his head to face the head of the couch. Like a child finding comfort in the small spaces, that's the only way to describe what pushing yourself into the crevice of the couch felt like.

"Mhm, they're different for everyone. Just go to sleep, you can actually talk to me in the morning." You suggested, grabbing the throw blanket from on top of the couch to lay on top of him.

"I'm serious. You better still be here when I wake up." You whispered, his body having no response as you walked back to your room--soft breathing following the body laid in your living room.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[blue-grama]

Aof Noppharnach, carelessness & living with yourself after the worst has happened

I'm doing a late-to-the-party catchup on Aof Noppharnach's work after falling in love with Moonlight Chicken, and this isn't a unique observation or anything, but I'm really in love with his preoccupation with how people pick up the pieces and move forward after the worst thing happens.

The conversation between Day and his dad about Night's guilt over putting Day in the position to get into his accident is in the same territory of what Tian is going through in A Tale of 1000 Stars. Neither Tian nor Night were directly responsible for what happened -- Aof doesn't seem to go in for cut-and-dried villians -- but they both feel culpable. And, most interestingly, both were simply careless. Neither meant for harm to come to anyone. If they'd been a little luckier, none would have. But they weren't and now they have to grapple with how to come back from that moment. For Jim, it's a little different. Jim wasn't careless, but he let Beam get on that ferry in the midst of a fight. Later, he regrets that choice, because if he'd insisted Beam stay and fight it out, Beam wouldn't have died -- another unfixable choice that, with better luck and more time, might have been fixed. (And another choice that lives in a gray area, because it wasn't fully Jim's choice. But in Beam's absence, who else can he blame?) Even Bad Buddy is about this in some ways - what Ming did to Pran's mom is the original wound that echoes down the generations. In that case, Ming doesn't make any attempt at amends, Dissaya can't let go, and the two families get stuck in a permanent feud. It takes a new generation to untwist that particular snarl.

And then there's the other theme that's pretty prominant in what I've seen of Aof's work so far, which is "I thought I had more time." Last Twilight's been deep into that theme, between Rung's suicide and Day's progressive loss of vision. It shows up in ATOTS with Tian granted new life after he stopped planning for the future, and it shows up in Moonlight Chicken's multiple stories of loss. In many ways, they're the same theme in different flavors. How do you move forward when something's unfixable? When the worst has happened and you can't erase it? When time is up? Ming and Dissaya dig in. Tian tries to live someone else's life. Jim walls himself off, becoming the person everyone leans on, but never becoming vulnerable to someone else. Day locks himself in his room. Night tries to be the big brother he should have been.

But life and Aof Nopparnach have a way of challenging those coping mechanisms. Tian has to make his own choices and find his own way forward. Jim has to open himself up to the possibility of happiness again because he can't actually be there for everyone without intimacy (see how Wen helps him understand Li Ming). Day has to come to terms with his new reality. As for Night, we'll see. Day is interpreting his efforts in the worst possible light, but that conversation with their Dad may have put a crack in the armor. Would getting Day's forgiveness help Night forgive himself? Can he forgive himself if Day never does?

It's never clear-cut and the struggle is always in both repairing connections to the community and reparing your own self-perception. In Aof's works, you've got to do the work to change, yes, but self-sacrifice isn't ever enough, nor is it effective: You've got to see yourself as forgivable, too.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Gaps

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

Your ID was missing.

You stand in the middle of your room, every drawer open and rifled through. You had gone through every bag, every purse, every wallet it might have been it. You had moved the bed, moved the couch, moved every piece of furniture that it might have fallen behind. Nothing had worked.

“Fuck..” You groan, sinking onto your couch. “Fuck, this cannot be happening. I’m so screwed.”

You had a doctors appointment coming up, to get your anxiety meds refilled, and you were already starting to run low. You had been hoping to manage, but with your ID missing and no way to find it, you were shit out of luck.

Your phone rings, and you glance down, staring at the caller ID. It was Dick.

“Hey.” You greet, trying to force the appropriate amount of cheer into your voice. The older man was nice, pleasant to talk to and attentive, but he had the irritating habit of picking up on your moods eerily well, even over the phone. That would lead to him fussing, and while you appreciated the thought, you were an adult and would prefer to be treated like one.

“Hey! Everything alright? You sound stressed, kiddo.”

“I’m fine.” You huff, putting the phone on speaker. You, for whatever reason, despised things touching your face, even phones.

“Uh-huh. What’s going on? You’re never this quiet.” Dick presses, and you press your lips together into a fine line, starting to put up your stuff. It wouldn’t do to have someone come over when you had torn apart your apartment. You may live in Gotham, but you refused to have your apartment look half as bad on the inside as it did on the outside.

“My ID is missing. Don’t have a damn clue what happened to it.” You hear Dick suck in a breath, and you curl your shoulders in, wanting to sink into the floor and die. Dick was always so nice that any time you upset or disappointed him, it was like a punch to the gut.

“(Y/N)…” He starts, and your shoulders twitch up higher, and you dig your nails into your forearms.

“I know! I can’t find it anywhere, but I know it’s in the apartment because I literally had it last night.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Me and Dami will come over, we’ll help you look, alright.”

You groan. You didn’t want them coming over, especially not both him and Damian, and seeing you so freaked out and panicked. While Damian was, you knew, extremely mature for being 14, he was also judgemental as all hell and had the very annoying habit of implying that you shouldn’t be living alone. Which wouldn’t bother you all that much, he was a kid, but Dick seemed to be of the same opinion and it drive you absolutely insane some days.

“You guys don’t have to bother, really. I’ll find it, and if I don’t find it, I’ll set something up at the DMV to get a new one.”

“Just let us come over, (Y/N). Maybe we can help you find it.” Dick wasn’t asking now, and you huff, crossing your arms.

“Fine. Just let yourselves in when y’all get here, I guess.”

You hear Dick snicker, probably at your use of the word “y’all” and roll your eyes. For someone who was nearly a decade older than you, he sure had a childish sense of humor sometimes.

“Alright. We’ll see you than.” The phone beeps when he hangs up. You set it down, an ugly knot in your chest.

“Damn it.” You had been trying, so hard, to distance yourself from the Wayne family. They were nice enough, always willing to help even if they were always busy at some point or another, but they had the irritating habit of inserting themselves into anything you did. If you went out shopping, they were somehow there. Doctor’s appointment? They somehow met you outside the office. On a date? They were at the same restaurant. You weren’t sure if it was intentional or accidental but anytime you tried thinking about it you would nearly spiral so badly you had to stop.

“Fuck.” Your chest was tight, and you snarl, frustrated at the way your heart rate was starting to pick up and your hands were starting to shake. You knew, well and good, that the likelihood of it being anything nefarious was low, the Wayne’s were reknowned for being good people, from a multitude of backgrounds. That didn’t stop the way your mind latched onto the possibility though. You tried to ignore it. Your meds had been getting less and less effective, lately.

The doorbell rings. You get up off your couch, ignore the mess, and open the door.

“Hey.” Dick ruffles your hair, and you scowl. He doesn’t seem all that put off, but you suppose he wouldn’t with Jason and Damian as his brothers.

“Hey. You know I said to just let yourself in, right? I gave you a key for a reason.” This had been early on, in knowing the Wayne’s when you hadn’t realized that giving Dick a key meant surprise visits without a call and very little warning.

“Yeah, I know. I left it at the manor, though, I was using one of Bruce’s cars and don’t have my keys.” He explains, and steps inside, not even waiting for you to open the door further. Damian follows silently, and you mentally curse the fact the kid was 14 and already your height. He was going to be so damn tall, it was almost insulting.

“Cool. As you can see, I’ve been looking for it, and..” Your hand motions uselessly. Surprisingly, Dick nods, his face sympathetic. You had expected more scolding.

“Why don’t you just go and sit down, yeah? Me and Damian can search. Did you take your meds today? Set your alarm and everything?”

“I took my meds, Dick. All of them.”

“Including the Methylphenidate?”

“Dick, if I didn’t remember to take that, I wouldn’t remember to take anything else. I took all my meds today, and not only did I take my meds, I actually went to therapy this week instead of forgetting.”

“Good. You need it.” Damian hums, rooting through the couch cushion. You begin to get up to help him, and he sends you a sharp look. You sit back down.

“When do you need your meds refilled? Did you have it in the house?” Dick asks.

“It was in the house. And I need them refilled soon. I can probably try and stretch them out-“

“Don’t. We can get you your meds if we need to, just keep taking them on schedule.” Dick rebukes, and you cringe. You didn’t doubt they could, but you didn’t like feeling like a charity case

“Dick, y’all really don’t have to do that.”

“Relax.” He huffs, standing and squinting at the drawer angrily. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. ‘Sides, you’ve helped me out more than a few times.”

“Yeah, by covering a shift not by buying your psych meds. These are not at all the same.” You laugh. You and Dick had met working at the YMCA in Bludhaven, and when you had moved to Gotham due to the extraordinarily cheap rent, you both had stayed in contact.

“May as well be.” Dick shrugs. “You cooking anything tonight?”

“Was gonna put some meat out to thaw.” You admit, flushing. The judgemental look Damian sends you says more than enough.

“Why don’t you come on over to the Manor to eat? I know Alfred has missed you helping him wrangle everyone together.” Dick offers, and you want to protest. What about your ID, which he had offered to help find? Wasn’t it late at night?

“Sure.” You say instead, reaching for your keys even as Dick cheers, and Damian smiles.

You can’t shake the feeling something is wrong even as you close your front door, locking it behind you, and let Dick lead you to the car.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 43

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: I’m aiming to have 2-3 more chapters before wrapping this up.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

"You're late."

You are. That had not been the plan.

In fact, for most of the evening, nothing has gone to plan.

The modulator had been such a finicky little fucker to get right.

You had spent so much time fiddling with it to nail Nathan's pitch and timbre.

His tone and pace, that was down to you to get right.

The kevlar had also been more difficult to manipulate than you'd anticipated.

It's lighter and more flexible, just like you wanted, but conforming it to your body and needs is so foreign to you.

And after all of the time that you had taken to get the voice box right—

It doesn't matter.

You're finally there, hugging to the shadows as you eye. Commissioner Jim Gordon standing at the other end of the roof.

You've seen him on the news all day, and you'd had some inkling that Nathan was working with the cops while you'd both been in Gotham.

"I've got questions," Gordon takes a step closer, and it's a fight not to just turn and run.

Instead you tip your chin up, the night splitting with Nathan's voice: "I came here for answers. You said your information was too sensitive to send."

"Where the hell have you been?"

And isn't that the million dollar question.

"Busy."

"Look, I know we don't exactly have a solid relationship, but you can't just disappear on me like that, man. We've been drowning without you out there."

"...Information," You reiterate. "Who, where, what. Details."

Gordon shakes his head, huffing.

"You've seen this clown shit?"

"Here and there."

"Well, it's all over the fucking place."

"You said you had a lead."

"The name Jack White mean anything to you?"

Not a damn thing.

Gordon's eyes narrow at your silence before he fishes into his pocket, drawing out a USB stick.

He holds it out, and waits.

But you don't dare get any closer, not as you are. Not like this.

"...Look, I don't know what the fuck is going on with you," Gordon says after a moment, "Or with Bateman. The department's up my ass about it. Once we clear up this clown gang, if he hasn't resurfaced and if you don't volunteer that information...It's not looking good for you."

"Nothing to volunteer."

"Why were you at his manor, then?"

"...Had a tip."

"About what?"

"Can't say."

"Christ," Gordon hisses. "I thought you were a shit before. What's crawled up your ass?"

"Give me the information. I do my job, you do yours."

Gordon huffs a flat laugh, tossing the stick just enough for you to catch it.

"I'll see what I can find," You add.

"Work fast, and keep your head down. Anyone in the department catches you with that information, it's both of us on the line."

"I understand."

--

You shouldn't have taken it.

You stare at the USB drive, damning yourself as the screens flicker in front of you.

You can't look into this.

Your thing is the tech, Nathan's thing is the digging.

At least, it was until Vicki sunk her claws into—

No, no. Not now.

You know that Nathan has access to a vast array of information.

You won't go after the guy, you can just...Give Gordon some insight on his leads to get him off your back.

And then you can dig back into whatever the hell happened to Nathan.

You heave in a deep breath, straightening up with a groan.

Getting home had been hell.

You'd doubled back to make sure Gordon wasn't following you. It had taken you four times as long to get back to the mansion.

It's nearly three in the morning, and you don't have Nathan's stamina.

Alright.

You'll take a short nap, have a snack, and then get going on this.

--

"Activity report, Master Bateman."

Nathan doesn't answer right away.

It's been like this for the last week and a half—Alfred running at half-power, focusing on security tasks as Nathan tries to identify the faulty wiring that's causing the facility to lock down.

He's been running as his own skeleton crew, working at half-speed and half-power as he tries to pinpoint the problem.

Whatever it is, wherever it is, it's giving him a helluva runaround.

Every time he thinks he's got it nailed, something else rears its ugly fucking head.

And with Alfred running at diminished capacity, Nathan has narrowed his task focuses mean—namely activity reports for the properties connected to his systems.

"Go on," Nathan waves a hand before returning both to the keyboard.

"Facility occupants: two."

"Technically one," Nathan mutters.

"I take umbridge with that. Manor occupants—"

"None, I know, move on—"

"One—"

"What?" Nathan twists in his chair, brow furrowing deeply. "The fuck do you mean, one occupant in the Manor?"

"Entry, exit, kitchen, and Blue Room sensors have been triggered repeatedly."

It can't just be the police, there's no way they'd start sniffing around there after so many weeks, let alone take up residence.

It could be a wild animal that's gotten in, is enjoying having the run of the place.

"Cave sensors?"

"Triggered."

His stomach swoops.

"Why the hell didn't you start with that? How many times?"

"Nine times in the last forty-eight hours."

Nathan twists back to his laptop, minimizing his work.

"Is that the only activity for the cave?" He asks.

"The sensors have been triggered routinely for the last week."

Nathan's hands curl and flex over his keyboard, fingers beginning to tingle with nerves.

Vicki had been on his trail when he left town, but he didn't think that she'd gotten that close.

Could she have found the cave, worked out how to get in?

And if it is her, what the fuck is she doing, going down there, over and over? Taking photos? Collecting evidence?

Nathan hisses a curse as he receives an error message for the cameras at the Manor.

Son of a bitch—it can't be that the power had been shut down, or off.

If that was the case, the sensors wouldn't be working.

He considers for a few moments, eyes searching the error screen.

"Alfred."

"Sir."

"How many times have the sensors in the Blue Room been triggered?"

"In the last forty-eight hours?"

"In the last week."

"Fifty-three, sir."

Nathan's mind zips to a place it shouldn't go.

You're in Metropolis. You're in a shitty apartent with your grass-green avocados and stubbornness.

Even if you are back in Gotham...No.

Nathan shakes his head, swallowing thickly.

He's been toying with the idea of a return, first as Batman, and then as himself—an ease back into public life coupled with an excuse that things had gotten too chaotic, that he didn't plan his little break to cause such a stir.

But if someone is in his Manor, sniffing around the cave, poking around his truths—

Hell.

Nathan is going to have to get back to Gotham—the sooner, the better.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburg ; @brandyllyn ;

@missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ;

@chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @kmc1989

[qiu-yan]

Hello, your takes are really cool! You can completely ignore this if it's tedious to expand haha, I'm not all that clear on tumblr etiquette so -

I noticed in one of your posts you said wwx had self worth issues? Can you please expand on that if you can? Imo he's very secure about his worth but things like debts and 'Nah, I Can Deal With this' get in his way. Generally, outside the jiang family I CAN see him putting his life on line for someone else, but wouldn't that be owed to natural kindness and willingness to help rather than any issues he has in his own worth? "Better me than them" not because he thinks he deserves it but because he thinks he can handle it better?

thanks for the message!

when i said that he had self-worth issues, what i had in mind was that one post (can't find it right now) that argued that wei wuxian had sky-high self-confidence and low self-worth. what they meant by that was that, on one hand, wei wuxian is incredibly confident in his ability to accomplish anything he puts his mind to and to weather hardships that would destroy other people; on the other hand, though, he also thinks that it's acceptable that he instead of others weathers said hardships. wei wuxian repeatedly falls upon the explanation of "i'm stronger than other people, i'm more resilient than other people, i was born with a smile on my face and i don't hold grudges" to explain to himself why it is acceptable that various bad things happen to him: why he insisted he wasn't upset after someone stole his first kiss at the phoenix mountain night-hunt; why he said it was better that he instead of mianmian got burned; why his response, when he thought that madame yu was going to cut off his right hand, was to think that he could relearn the sword with his left--and why, i think, he gives his golden core to jiang cheng.

kindness and a natural inclination towards helping others can account for a good chunk of an individual's selfless behavior, but once we reach the point where someone is actively setting themself on fire to protect another person (or, shall we say, digging out their own golden core), then some other psychological motivators have come into the equation. (i find one interesting example of this to be emiya shirou from fate/stay night, whose natural instinct towards helping others is a manifestation of his survivor's guilt from the fuyuki fire).

this is less prominent in wei wuxian's interactions with other characters, since i do think that wei wuxian's moral framework is decently agent-relative - but when it comes to his interactions with the jiang siblings and jiang cheng in particular, wei wuxian's self-worth issues become apparent. due to how he was raised in the jiang household, wei wuxian seems to have internalized the idea that he, compared to jiang cheng, is more disposable. the message wei wuxian overwhelmingly hears from madame yu and also everyone else is that, while jiang cheng is the sect heir and the future of yunmeng jiang, wei wuxian is just the son of an ex-servant. that wei wuxian owes the jiang sect for taking him off the streets and raising him. that, just by being in jiang cheng's life, wei wuxian has already taken so much from him: the happiness of his mother, the approval of his father, the love of his father, the love of his sister, the stability of his home. all of this means that the direction of debt points firmly in one direction: wei wuxian, in his mind, owes the jiang.

this is reinforced by both uncle jiang and madame yu's last words to him: "protect our children." protect jiang cheng and jiang yanli. there was no "protect yourself as well." what a terrible thing to tell a kid, honestly.

but this is also acceptable, because wei wuxian is stronger than jiang cheng. so it's alright that wei wuxian be forced to take on various burdens due to what he owes jiang cheng, because wei wuxian is strong and resilient and can handle those burdens. unlike jiang cheng, who is weak and emotionally fragile and holds grudges so easily, who is so weak he must be protected at all costs, wei wuxian is strong and capable and forgiving enough to weather all hardships, and not even hold a grudge about it. so it's alright! it's okay. wei wuxian can and should shoulder everything.

i think this was the reasoning that went into the golden core transfer: wei wuxian at once loved jiang cheng and didn't want him to suffer, and also felt it was his first and foremost duty to protect jiang cheng above himself, and also felt that he was more disposable than jiang cheng, and also felt so, so guilty about his perceived role in the fall of lotus pier. i think (as i said in the post i think you're referencing) this is also part of why wei wuxian was able to leave lotus pier to protect the wen remnants without fully viewing this decision as him making a sacrifice: from his point of view, since he no longer had his golden core, he could no longer contribute to yunmeng jiang. he could no longer fulfill his purpose/duty/promise to the dead jiang parents of protecting the jiang siblings. if he wasn't useful, then jiang cheng probably didn't even want him around anymore. therefore, it was better that he leave instead of staying to cause more problems.

when it comes to the jiang family, at least, wei wuxian's sky-high self-confidence and abysmal self-worth work together to produce some uniquely unhinged outcomes.

sorry, i think i've gone off-topic. when i said that wei wuxian had self-worth issues in the original post, though, it was in relation to yunmeng jiang and the jiang family specifically, which is why my reply is focused on them. i hope i've answered your question!