#i always go insane at that cut. this is not exactly the same since it's more.. about emotions but yknow.. it can be.. the same...
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girlfriend? - spencer reid x fem!reader





reader wonders why exactly she's not spencer's girlfriend and he's more than happy to play along
genre: fluff and maybe kinda sorta comfort?? wc: 739 warnings: reader is younger and has never had a boyfriend, mention of roommate, awkwardness??, new relationship, kissing, reader uses physical affection to distract spencer, "i'm fine" no you're not!!!, insecurities and simply spencer being a cutie
my very first time writing fanfiction and posting my writing!!! please give feedback
After a long day of daydreaming and a rather upsetting conversation with my roommate, I've come to realize that I'm technically not Spencer's girlfriend. I mean, he's never asked me to be. Of course he's sweet and we've kissed several times but he's never formally asked. I've never had a boyfriend so I just assumed that one or two dates ultimately meant together. Apparently that's not right. Maybe I'm overreacting and maybe I'm not cut out for this dating thing but why hasn't he asked? We can hardly go a day without seeing each other. Doesn't that mean something? Maybe I'm insane because that's highly likely, too.
Although anticipating it, I still jump when he knocks. The door opens and it's clear that he came straight from work, his messenger bag on his shoulder. Like every other day, we walk straight to my bedroom and he leaves his satchel on the same old cushioned chair.
Spencer places his hands in his pockets, his eyes floating over me dubiously.
"Are you alright?"
Well, that took all of three seconds.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I answer, fiddling with my pajama shorts' strings. There's no way I'm turning psycho-not-even-girlfriend on him because he hasn't defined our relationship. Because of the chance he doesn't want me to be his girlfriend, that's a conversation I'm not having.
His eyes narrow and he steps closer. "You're fidgeting, avoiding eye contact... not to mention that you've hardly spoken to me since I've got here which is just... not you at all. You always talk."
"Hey!" I frown.
I watch as his hands come up to hold my face and I begrudgingly look him in the eye only to find concern. "Did I do something?" he asks softly.
My head shakes in his hands. He drops them. "You didn't do anything wrong."
He notices the emphasis, following me when I go to sit on the edge of my bed. I'll never get over how out of place Spencer looks in my room.
His eyebrows raise as he looks down at me. I feel like I'm in trouble. "But I did something apparently."
"Nope," I hum simply, pulling him down by the tie to mush our lips together with little grace. The reciprocation was fleeting, his mouth briefly opening only to move away as fast as it came. "See? I'm fine," I grin unconvincingly.
"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong," he sighs, stuck between worried and annoyed.
He steps back, eliciting a whine from me. My eyes drop and I figure that I might as well dance around it since I'm a terrible liar. Picking at the loose string on my comforter, I murmur, "do you... um... you like me, right?"
Confusion draws his eyebrows together. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Honestly, I'd be crazy not to. What told you I didn't?"
"I'm not your girlfriend," I whisper pathetically, eyes never leaving my fidgeting fingers.
I can practically feel the realization hit him. A shaky breath that never quite becomes a nervous laugh leaves him before he responds gently, "I haven't asked you to be. Do you want to be my girlfriend?"
My head finally lifts, a slight frown on my lips as I nod.
"Will you be?"
My eyes go wide and I freeze. "What?"
He laughs softly, walking a few steps closer before crouching down to my level. "Will you be my girlfriend... please?" he asks politely, a tiny smile on his face.
I nod eagerly before I can do anything else. When words do come out, they're frantic like I can't get them out fast enough. "Yes! Yep! Mhm. Please."
This time, when I kiss him, he doesn't hesitate or pull away, he smiles, hands finding my face and brushing away any stray hairs. A thought occurs and I break the kiss, thumbs brushing his cheeks. "So... why didn't you ask before?" I ask almost absentmindedly.
He swallows and very gently mutters, "I didn't know if you'd want me to be your boyfriend."
I can feel my heart melting as I press a soft peck to his mouth. How did he not know? Isn't the way I'm constantly nervous obvious to him? I'm not exactly good at masking anything.
"Of course I did. I do. And now you are my boyfriend so how about that?" I smile and he does too.
"I'm glad," he laughs.
"Me too."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#fanfic#criminal minds
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you're the best part
kim minji x fem!reader ; fluff
synopsis: you meet minji's parents, they love you, and everything else that follows assures you that everything is wonderful as long as minji is in your life
warnings: none ; pure fluff ; they're so in love i want to sob ; the most girlfriend to every girlfriend ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread
a/n: this was going to be a dani fic but there's a lack of minji on my feed and you guys dont understand how girlfriend she is and how much i want her and how much i i i i i i ijasdfkads shes so gf it drives me insane at night...


the red light shines across your features, highlighting the worry in the creases. you tap your foot up and down mindlessly, looking out the window of the passenger side.
“hey,” minji begins, her hand reaching over to grab yours, “it’s going to be fine.”
you glance back at her, her eyes meeting yours immediately with a softness that slightly relaxes your shoulders.
today you’re on the way to minji’s house, which is nothing new to you at all. you’ve been there a few times, but this time is much more different—her parents will be there.
you’ve never met her parents, despite frequenting her house here and there. they’ve just never been home, and you’ve always been a little grateful. it was inevitable that you’d have to meet them sometime, especially after being with her for so long.
and sure you’ve had your excuses—lectures, homework, errands, social things—and minji was always understanding. her parents didn’t seem to mind it since minji had mentioned you’re a busy woman, but no excuse will work now.
minji moves your hand over to her lips, kissing the backside of your palm lightly as she steers with one hand. something slow plays in the background, one of your favorite songs in your shared playlist with her.
she holds your hand the whole way to her house, kissing it once more when she shifts the car to ‘park.’
“hey,” she says softly, turning her head in your direction. you’re glancing down at your lap and your fingers are rubbing against themselves nervously. minji reaches over and uses two fingers to turn your head over to her, her touch settling near your jaw and warming your skin. “it’ll be fine love, i promise.”
“god, i’m just so scared. i mean, meeting them has been long overdue. what if they think i’m someone who always postpones things? someone avoidant? someone—”
she pinches your cheek, cutting you off from your ramble.
“breathe, " she says simply, her hand fully cupping your cheek now. “they already like you a lot. i mean, i’ve shown them pictures, videos—everything. they think you’re beautiful and sweet and that’s exactly what you are. how could they not like you?”
“minji,” you mumble, sinking into her touch. your head shifts a bit so your lips meet the bottom of her palm. you peck her skin softly before huffing lowly, “okay.”
“we can take more time to sit here if you need.”
“no, no. i’ve kept them waiting for a while already. let’s just— let’s go.”
she pouts subtly as she rubs her thumb against your cheek. before you can unbuckle your seatbelt, though, she leans in and kisses your lips gently, a silent way to calm you down.
you two walk down the short path up to her steps, hands intertwined the whole way there. minji squeezes lightly after knocking, muttering a small, “i’m here, everything is going to be fine.”
“thank you.”
seconds later, the locks start to click, and suddenly your heartbeat spikes. minji squeezes your hand again.
the door opens, and a woman—whom you instantly recognize from the pictures minji showed you of when she was younger—steps out. she has the same warm smile as minji, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves.
“well look who it is,” she greets, “it’s nice to see you two here. you must be y/n? come in!”
you felt some of your nerves melt at her welcoming tone. “hello, miss. thank you for having me.” you say as you follow minji inside.
her father was next to greet you, his handshake firm but friendly. “welcome to our home, again..” he jokes, “we’ve heard so much about you.”
“all good things, i hope?” you joke back, earning a laugh from him.
“better than good,” her mom chimes in as she leads you to the living room. “but i have to say, you’re even prettier than the pictures minji showed us. i understand why she’s always talking about you now.”
“mom,” minji groans, though her ears turn pink.
unsure of how to respond, you smile shyly. the warmth in the room eased your nerves. soon, minji’s younger sister appeared, her wide eyes darting between you and her sister. “you’re so pretty,” she says simply, her voice soft but full of awe.
“hi, thank you.” you reply. she’s maybe a hand shorter, so you tilt your head down just a bit to meet her eye level. “you’re adorable.”
the girl beams before giving minji a look, one that seems to make minji more bashful than before. next, minji’s older brother enters the room. he offers a small nod of acknowledgment, his expression neutral, but more on the friendly side when he adds a small grin. you could feel his eyes observing you as he introduced himself properly, though there wasn’t anything malicious—just quiet curiosity.
“let’s head to the kitchen,” minji’s mom says, “dinner isn’t finished cooking.”
you follow, offering to help. at first, they hesitated, but you insisted, and soon you were peeling vegetables and helping season the meat. minji gave you a pat above your waist before going upstairs to retrieve something, earning a shallow gulp and nod from you.
her mom glances at you with a soft smile, stepping closer. “thank you for being so kind to minji,” she says, her tone heartfelt. “she talks so much about you. it’s obvious how much you mean to her. thank you for making my daughter so happy.”
you pause, caught off guard by the sincerity. “she means a lot to me too,” you admit, feeling a warmth in your cheeks.
her dad, who had finished chopping onions, chimes in. “and you’re quite the cook, seems like this is second nature for you.”
you laugh, grateful for the compliment. “i’ve had some practice. i cook for minji all the time… she um, she likes my cooking so…”
her mom looks over to her dad briefly, a knowing look exchanged. “you really do live up to everything i’ve heard from my daughter.” her dad chuckles, patting you on the back. you laugh and nod, happy that they seem to approve.
minji returns shortly after, and together, you finish preparing dinner.
(though not without teasing remarks and nudges here and there, which her family seemed to enjoy watching.)
by the time everyone sat down to eat, the atmosphere was lively and welcoming. her parents asked what you expected, curious in your studies and career goals. they nod approvingly when you explained your aspirations in public health.
“it’s wonderful to see someone so passionate,” her mom beams. “you’re going to do great things, y/n.”
her younger sister giggles as you help add more of the entree to her plate, and even her older brother, though quiet, seemed to soften by the end of the meal. he gives you a faint smile as he finishes his meal, giving you a silent, kind gesture of approval.
you help out with the dishes, collecting everyone’s and playfully arguing with her dad to wash all of them. he looks at you with surprise when you successfully manage to win over the sink, starting to scrub as he grows more fond of you.
while you do the dishes and as minji cleans the table, her mom walks over. minji feels a tap on her shoulder, and is met with a satisfied smile when she turns her head.
“y/n is lovely,” her mom says.
“i know.” minji nods, “i’ve known.”
“you have good taste.”
“i know that too.” minji giggles, glancing over in your direction and smiling. “i’m glad you guys like her too.”
after dinner, her parents and siblings prepared to head out for some errands (though both of you know it’s just so you can get a breath of fresh air, and have some time to recover) leaving you and minji alone in the house. as the door closes behind them, minji turns to you with a playful smile.
“what did i tell you?”
“okay, okay. you were right. your family is amazing.” you exhale dramatically, sighing in relief. minji laughs at you as she steps closer, wrapping her arms around your waist tantalizingly and placing her chin on your shoulder as you finish scrubbing one last dish.
“and so are you,” her voice softens as she says it, her breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. she presses a kiss to your jawline, then mutters, “seriously, thank you for being so great with them. it means a lot to me.”
you turn and meet her gaze, the water still running over your hands. “it’s easy when they’re so kind… like someone else i know. i can understand why you’re the way you are.”
“how romantic,” she says bluntly, making you huff and jab your elbow back into her. she acts hurt, but backs away as you put the last dish away.
you dry your hands and press a kiss on her cheek, watching them grow pink by the second. she rolls her eyes and grabs her hand, leading you to the couch and plopping down before you plop down right beside her.
“do you want to watch a movie? must’ve been draining.”
you don’t respond, instead, you close the distance between you two. your lips capture hers, with your body melting as you wrap your arms around her neck. when you pull away, you rest your head near the crook of her neck, simply enjoying yourself in her embrace.
“i just wanna be here, with you.” you mumble against her, “i’m really happy.”
“me too.” minji sighs into your hair before pressing a kiss. “hey, yn?”
“yeah?”
she doesn’t respond as she shifts a bit so you can comfortably lean against her side with your head on her shoulder. she wraps an arm around you now, fingers squeezing your shoulder lightly before she says,
“i love you so much, you know.”
you hum, sinking into her as your eyes close.
a beat of silence passes by, and minji figures you’re asleep. but a soft, heavy breath catches her attention as you press even closer, sleepily muttering,
“i love you more.”
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Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)
(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)
Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context
Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.
Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....
There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.
So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???
Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.
not me getting heated. lol
He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.
Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.
I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.
"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"
"YOU MOTHER FU-"
Ugh but i love him he's so fucked
The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...
Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.
More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...
But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!
You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..
You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-
Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.
Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read
"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."
#headcanon#imagines#oneshot#x reader#yandere imagines#headcannons#yandere headcanons#dick grayson x reader#batsis!reader#batfam x batsis#yandere dick grayson#platonic yandere#platonic batfam#dark batfamily#yandere batfam#yandere batboys#yandere family#yandere batman#dc imagine#dc universe#dcu#dc comics#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere bruce wayne#yandere batfamily x reader#platonic relationships#yan blog
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𖦹 ̼ ᮫ JUNOᘞ̸⠀ ׁ ₊ SUNG HAN BIN

summary ༝༚༝༚ … you thank your lucky stars that Sung Hanbin was brought into your life. you’re even more grateful that you both have made it this far: marriage, home, jobs… the only thing that’s missing are tiny versions of you both and he’s more than happy to provide 18+ MDNI
wc 5187 ! ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა ۫ ੭̲ 𝓼hb & 𝓯!reader ⊹ non-idol!au ( short n sweet mini series ) ( library )
爱 ࿁ ⠀ ˚⠀ warnings … unprotected p in v sex, so. much. baby talk, heavy heavy breeding kink, phone sex, masturbation (f!receiving), semi-public sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, nipple play, clit play, bulge kink?, talks of periods and ovulating ︩︪
✉️ I feel insane for writing this >_< literally just something about this man I guess… enjoy my loves

“You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him,” was always the first thing people told you when they would meet Hanbin. The way their eyes would scan over him: his pretty face and kind smile as he greeted them, a hand resting on the small of your back to make it clear to the person that both you and him were taken. If he weren’t so polite, barely uttering a word or two to a friend of yours, you would’ve gotten jealous at how much attention he attracted. But of course, his mother had raised him to have a personality that would fit the perfect genes his father had given him.
It was easy to assume that he was out of your league, especially when you first met him, although he never made you feel that way. Hanbin made sure you knew how you were the only one for him–how you were the only woman who had the entirety of his being and praised you for simply existing. And the truth was, you really were lucky. Lucky to have found someone capable of so much love and someone that complimented you like he was made for you. It was as if the two of you were cut from the same cloth because even from the first interaction, he understood you better than anyone else and when he had laughed, those cute whisker dimples appearing on his skin, you were a goner.
“YN won the lottery,” your best friend had laughed when you had shown her the picture of the man who had asked you on a date after the smallest interaction in the coffee shop.
Laying on her bed, fuzzy socks clad on your feet and 13 Going on 30 playing in the background, you had popped another kernel of popcorn in your mouth as you rolled closer to her. “Right?” as you take your phone back from her, another text from Hanbin alerted on your screen. You grinned, “I don’t know what I did in my past life, but I am grateful for it now.”
Your friend laughs as she sinks into the pillows at the head of her bed, “Keep working that magic to make him fall in love with you.”
“I don’t know, he already seemed head-over-heels when he asked me out.”
She scoffed as Jennifer Garner kissed a young Mark Ruffalo on the TV.
“That’s gonna be you guys someday, getting married. God, YN, I swear if you don’t marry that man–”
“Shh, I just met him,” you giggled and your friend offered her free hand to you.
Halfheartedly, you high-fived her. “Exactly. The rest of it should be easy.”
And it was. The next night with Hanbin only solidified it, and being with him finally introduced you to what a loving, healthy relationship should be. You made each other happy, and it was like no other person existed to the two of you. Years passed, and you both graduated from university, got a place together, and moved in, settling down and solidifying your jobs.
None of your friends were surprised when Hanbin popped the question to you privately on the deck of the overwater bungalow you were staying in on your fourth-anniversary trip to Fiji. Or at the fact that you had said yes.
It was a dream come true getting married to him. Your wedding day was everything you had wanted since you were a little girl, especially the groom, and for two more years, the two of you were enough. Until Hanbin started talking about getting you pregnant.
Folded at the waist over the marble countertop of your shared kitchen, your husband groans loudly as he buries his length deep inside of you again. Your walls flutter weakly around him, his pace slow and harsh as you feel the veins of his length drag along the inside of your cunt. Hanbin’s grip against the back of your waist is bruising and all you can do is call out his name as one of his hands reaches around you to push against your lower stomach, feeling himself push into you again and again.
The pressure has you seeing stars and Hanbin coos softly, “Yeah, baby, let me take care of you… I’ll take such good care of you, just let go and feel it for me.”
“Binnie!” you cry out, feeling that coil inside you getting ready to snap and Hanbin pants heavily.
“‘M here, my love, I’m here,” he gasps out, thumb brushing over the hardened bud of your clit and you don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking as your orgasm hits you. As you ride out your high, his hand drifts over the soft part of skin just above your mound, his hips slamming into yours much faster.
“You’d look so pretty pregnant,” he mutters under his breath and you gasp softly. “Wanna put a baby in you, breed you so good and see your tummy get round–” Hanbin has to stop himself and he lets out a choked moan. The overstimulation’s beginning to hit you, but you can’t find yourself to care, your fuzzy mind filled with thoughts of him having you in a way no one has had you before. No one other than him would be able to have you.
“Give it to me,” you grit out, slowly losing what little you have left of your composure. “I’ll give you a baby–”
He’s releasing inside of you before you can utter anything else.
It only gets worse after that impromptu session that random Wednesday morning. You knew Hanbin had great stamina, but clearly, you underestimated how high his sex drive could actually get. More often than not you were waking up with his head between your thighs, his tongue lazily flicking your clit as he begged you to give him some relief before he had to leave for the day. He had you working your hips over him whenever you tried to sit next to him on the couch, had your mouth around him while he was driving you both home from work, was joining you in the shower any chance he got–he was insatiable.
Things increased tenfold when you both attended your niece’s fourth birthday party. It was strange to you that throughout the few hours you’d spent there, Hanbin hadn’t approached you once, opting to spend time with your brother-in-law and father, which was extremely unlike him. Normally, he would be attached to your hip, but it was your niece who was held in your arms for those few hours, demanding your whole attention. You missed the way Hanbin’s eyes darkened just in the slightest as you so effortlessly picked up your niece, speaking to her softly and making her laugh.
It was so natural for you, and Hanbin felt that small voice in the back of his head that had been steadily growing louder the past few weeks finally snap. If he got any closer to see you like this, he wouldn’t be able to contain himself, so he watched you from a distance. The image painted in his mind of your niece having his nose, your eyes, his face shape, your smile– it was almost too much to bear. He was tense for the rest of the birthday party. And for the entirety of the car ride home.
Later that night, after you had already gotten ready for bed, sitting between the sheets as you waited for Hanbin to finish up in the bathroom while scrolling on your phone was when he finally brought the topic up.
“What d’you think about having kids?” he’d asked through the open bathroom door. The words caused you to look up from your phone immediately, your heart racing.
“I want them,” you started softly. “They’re a big responsibility though, I don’t just want to rush right into it…”
His head popped out from around the edge of the door and he looked so adorable, hair a fluffy mess and skin shining a bit from the moisturizer he’d just applied. “...Could we maybe start thinking about having them?”
You turn your phone off as the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, “How long have you been thinking about this, Bin?” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he turns off the light in the bathroom, entering the bedroom. You laugh softly as he shrugs and practically throws himself onto the bed.
“A while…” he admits shyly, burying his face into your stomach, your shirt separating him from your bare skin. “I want it so bad, though. I’m in love with you, I’ll always be in love with you, and I want you to be the mother of my children.”
“You can’t just say that–”
He laughs, “But it’s true!”
You’re silent for a moment, running your fingers through his hair, the sensation helping you gather your thoughts. When he looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading, you feel your resolve crumble, “Please?”
How are you supposed to say no to that?
“Well…” You have to look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with him as you voice your thoughts for the sole point of not getting distracted. “We both want kids… and we’re financially stable…” Hanbin lets out soft hums of agreement at each thing you list, moving up your body until his face is right next to yours.
“Please let me get you pregnant.”
“Hanbin–” You try, but his lips are pressing against your neck and suddenly it’s so much harder to think.
“You’d look so pretty. Your belly full of our child and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.” He mouths at a sensitive spot of skin and you arch your back to press your body closer to his. “I’d take such good care of you…”
“I’d… I’d still have to get off the pill.”
Hanbin chuckles, “I’d love you so good that your birth control wouldn’t stand a chance.” You let out a noise somewhere between a giggle and a moan as he pulls away from your neck, a smile on his face as you make eye contact with him.
“Then consider it done,” you whisper to him just before his lips meet yours.
The next day, you turn off your alarm for when you’re supposed to take the pill, and Hanbin’s more than happy to throw the little foil packet into the trash. And to fuck you on the bathroom counter afterward.
The first week of being off of birth control you get your period. It’s surprisingly nowhere as near as heavy as you expected, but it’s still annoying to deal with, except for Hanbin being the angel he is and comforting you through the first two days of the subtle pain. Bringing you your favorite snacks, cuddling you whenever you asked for it, and giving you massages. Even though this level of care was nothing new, Hanbin hadn’t hesitated to bring up how this was his practice for when you were pregnant. You had rolled your eyes at his words.
But when you start ovulating, it’s torture. The worst it’s been in a while, actually, and sitting at work all day, mind running a thousand miles a minute with thoughts of Hanbin, Hanbin, Hanbin and you wish you’d never gotten off of the pill. You shift in your seat, unable to focus on anything as you feel your panties cling to you, the slightest movement making you want to scream out in frustration.
when’re you gonna be done with work tonight?
Your husband responds almost immediately:
binnie!
Around 5
Why?
You grumble a little, sending him another message and trying to be as blunt as possible.
I’m so horny Hanbin
can’t believe I actually listened to you and went off the pill this is horrible
The three little dots appear and bounce around for a few moments only for four little words to pop up on your screen.
binnie!
Go to the bathroom
You’re getting up from your desk immediately, making your way to the family restroom and locking the door behind you just as Hanbin’s contact appears on your phone. You don’t hesitate to answer his call.
“Is it that bad?” is the first thing he asks and you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing your temples with your free hand.
“Maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but I cannot focus on anything for the life of me– Hey, don’t laugh.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gets out between the sweet sounds of his laughter. Just hearing his voice is already making you feel better. He’s quiet for a moment after his chuckles die down, “Do you want help?”
A rush of arousal goes through you, “Please.”
“Okay, honey do whatever you need to do and I’ll stay on the phone with you–”
“Just– Keep talking,” you breathe out, your hand that’s not holding your phone undoing the button of your pants so you would have enough room to slip your hand into your panties. He laughs softly again and the sound practically has you gushing all over the fabric of your clothes.
Your fingers run through the wetness growing at your entrance, making sure you have enough lubrication before you begin circling your clit. “Oh, my sweet girl… You’re so good for me. Doing all of this so we can have a family.” You let out a small whimper and Hanbin coos gently, his voice low and intimate.
“I’ll make it so worth it, baby. You’re not gonna be leaving our bed at all tonight.” Your breaths are coming out in soft pants, struggling to control yourself as your movements quicken and your hips buck to meet your hand, practically humping your fingers. “‘M gonna come in you over and over and over again so there’s no chance that you won’t be pregnant by tomorrow.”
Your voice is breathy and you have to bite your tongue to stay quiet, “Please Binnie.”
“Tell me what you’re doing.” You swallow down a moan.
“Rubbing my clit. Trying to do it like you do but it’s hard,” you complain, trying to stay as quiet as possible as you run a finger over the hardened bud, only drawing yourself closer to your release.
“I’m here, baby, just keep doing what feels good,” Hanbin encourages and if your head wasn’t the slightest bit fuzzy, you would probably be able to hear the strain in his voice. You press a little harder and you feel your high beginning to creep up on you, leaning your head back against the bathroom wall.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding on just for the sake of waiting for his permission.
Hanbin hums, “It’s okay, my sweet girl, let go.”
Your orgasm washes over you instantly and your teeth sink into the side of your cheek to prevent you from crying out, Hanbin’s soft praises helping you ride out the length of your high. When you finally calm down, Hanbin’s the first to speak.
“Feel better.” You smile weakly. “Much. Thank you.”
He chuckles, “It’s the least I can do. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay for the rest of the day?”
You pull your phone away from your face to look at the time, “Just a few more hours. If I need anything else I’ll just call you again.” The smile in his voice is evident.
“I hope you would,” he pauses for a moment. “I love you.”
It’s your turn to smile, it’s almost subconsciously, but you can’t help it. “I love you. I’ll see you when you come to pick me up.”
“I’ll see you soon,” he repeats back to you, before you end the call, giving yourself a moment alone to catch your breath and try to get your hormones under control.
Surprisingly, you’re able to get some things done for the rest of the day. Maybe it’s the motivation from being able to see your husband in just a few hours, but time doesn’t pass by nearly as slow as it did in the morning. Finally, you clock out, entering the parking garage after Hanbin messages you that he’d arrived. You’d never been so relieved to see his car in your life. And your heart rate increases tenfold when he gets out of the driver’s side, you traveling the short few steps before wrapping your arms around him tightly. The velvety sandalwood scent that clings to him infiltrates your senses and you let out a deep sigh, relaxing immediately.
He rubs your back, kissing your head softly, “I missed you.”
“Missed you more.” You pull away slightly to peck him on the lips, “Let’s go home?” At your suggestive tone, Hanbin smirks a little, never letting go of you as he makes his way around the front of the car, opening the passenger's side door for you.
“Let’s.”
You’ve never wanted to teleport so badly in your life, the car ride back to the house feeling like it stretched on longer than your entire work day. The best you could do to distract yourself from the longing growing inside of you again was watch as the city passed by, doing everything in your power to not look over at your husband because his hand resting on your thigh was more than enough. You figured that Hanbin must be as sexually frustrated as you, or at least the smallest bit with the way his fingers began to dig into your skin and the brief image of him gripping the steering wheel tightly. But to your disappointment, his impeccable control was still intact when you both entered your house.
Hanbin hadn’t pushed you up against the wall or bent you over the nearest surface, he’d simply taken off his shoes, then your own before walking towards the kitchen. You gaped a little, eventually following him while wondering what happened to that desperate man from a few weeks ago. All you could do was watch in disbelief as Hanbin dug around in the fridge, getting out some leftovers and warming them up before placing them in front of you.
“Eat.” You were getting tired of his one-word commands as you slid into one of the seats at the island counter, beginning to eat quickly. “Slow down a little, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he laughed softly, reaching to hold your wrist and force you to relax your movements.
You tilt your head, “Hanbin.” He responds with a soft hum. “Do you really have to draw this out even more?”
“Do you remember what I said on the phone earlier?”
Carefully, you eat another mouthful of the food before answering, “That you were gonna take care of me.”
“I did say that,” he agrees, leaning on the counter with his hands. “What I meant, though, was how I’m not letting you leave our bed tonight.”
Oh. You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more turned on.
“And you’re not going to, so eat.” Your face flushes as you hesitantly resume eating. His warm brown eyes never leave you as the contents of the plate slowly disappear, and when you swallow the final bite, Hanbin is taking the plate away. He sets it by the sink and then before you can process where he is, you’re in his arms and his lips are pressing harshly against yours.
It’s like he’s trying to consume you as his mouth melds so perfectly against your own, his tongue slipping past your lips when you gasp at the suddenness to swirl around your mouth. You grip onto his shoulders tightly, scrunching his shirt under your palms as his hands find the undersides of your thighs, squeezing the skin as he begins to walk. The moments where he pulls away from kissing you are short-lived, only meant for taking in small breaths and to make sure he wasn’t going to run into a wall. He shifts your weight against him as he pushes the door to your bedroom open.
Your feet find the floor and Hanbin’s holding your face with his hand as his taste continues to fill your mouth, making your brain cloudy and full of thoughts of just him, him, him. Gently, you push at his chest, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, a small string of spit connecting your mouths. Hanbin smiles and your heart almost beats out of your chest.
His hands slide under the bottom of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your waist as he begins guiding you backward.
“Needed you so badly today. You sounded so pretty on the phone my dick was hard for hours,” he groans before his lips land on your neck. Hanbin bites softly, leaving marks all over the expanse of your skin and when his teeth brush against a particularly sensitive spot, you yelp. His breath is warm against your neck as he sucks at the spot harshly before pulling away.
“Want it, Bin, want it so bad– Need you inside me.”
“Be patient,” he mumbles, but with the way his hands are instantly pulling at the hem of your shirt, you can tell that he doesn’t want to wait either. “And be careful with what you say.” His tone is heavy with lust as you fall back against the covers of your bed, the sheets a mess since neither of you had bothered to make it that morning.
“Either way I’m gonna get what I want,” you say as he tugs the straps of your bra down, muttering a few words of annoyance as he reaches behind you to undo the clasp.
His hands feel so big as he pulls the clothing in, his cheeks turning pink as he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. “And what is it you want?”
“Want your baby.” Hanbin practically groans at the three words, mouth lowering to the top of your tits to trail soft kisses in a horizontal line across them both.
A small moan leaves your lips, “Sounds like you want it as much as I do.” His pink lips are wrapping around one of your nipples, running his tongue over the bud and sucking to erect the nerves.
“‘M gonna make you a dad.” His fingers pinch harshly at your other nipple, which he quickly soothes by running the pad of his thumb over it. It was almost like a warning, but all it made you do was rub your thighs together, wanting more friction. When Hanbin removes himself from your nipple, it already feels sore, the skin red as he kisses it quickly. Then the other.
“Can’t wait to see your tits get all swollen. You gonna let me massage them? Let me make you feel better while your body grows our baby?”
“Yes,” you groan out eagerly, arching your back slightly to press your body closer to his.
“I know, baby, I know,” he reassures, rubbing your nipples in small circles as he kisses his way down your stomach. “You’re gonna be so relaxed, you’re gonna feel so good that you won’t even care how full you’re gonna be with my cum.”
“Please, Binnie,” you whine as his hands leave your breasts to undo your pants, pulling them down your legs impatiently along with your panties. He hums a little as his hands gently guide your thighs apart.
His thumb dips into your entrance just the smallest bit, collecting your wetness before spreading it all around your pussy, avoiding your clit. “Relax,” he repeats, kissing your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your clit. Hanbin’s tongue flicks quickly over your most sensitive spot, making you cry out and your hand shoots down to hold him against you.
“You taste so good,” he mumbles against you, and the vibration has you reeling, bucking your hips toward his face. The tip of his tongue teases you, gently moving the bud back and forth as you feel spit run down from your clit to your entrance, making your opening even more messy. Hanbin sucks on the hard little nub as his middle finger begins to work its way into you, the thrusts deep and slow as he eases you open. The sounds of his finger pumping into your pussy and his slurping against your clit make you cry out louder, and you prop yourself up onto one of your elbows to get a better view of him.
His eyes are already on you, pupils blown wide. “You’re so pretty, Binnie. Mouth feels s’good,” you slur, running your hand through his hair, and your praise has him pushing another finger into you. “God! Make me cum, Bin– Make me cum,” you whine as he stops sucking on you, flattening his tongue and lapping at you, fingers speeding up and curling so perfectly that your wetness is gushing around him.
Every time he eats you out, he acts like a starved man. Desperate for your attention and desperate for your pleasure as he ruts against the bed every so slightly, eyes falling shut as he takes your clit back into his mouth. The pressure has you practically sobbing and you feel yourself clench around his digits when a third finger brushes against your hole.
“Y’gonna cum already?” Hanbin teases and you let out a frustrated grumble.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day, don’t tease me.”
He thrusts his fingers into you roughly and you’re falling apart around him, his thumb resting on your clit to give you enough friction to enjoy your orgasm as his face comes back to hover over yours.
“Was thinking about your pussy all day too, baby, no need to get angry.”
“‘M not angry, I just need you to fuck me.” Hanbin chuckles and his lips meet yours in an opened mouth kiss, the taste of you heavy on his tongue. He pulls away just enough to slip his shirt over his head as your shaking, weak hands fumble with his belt. Soothingly, he kisses you again, taking your hands in his own and placing them on his shoulders before he takes care of the rest of his clothes himself.
You want to cry in relief when you feel his tip run along your entrance, collecting the wetness that had seeped out of you from your previous orgasm. “Ready?”
“Please,” you whine and Hanbin doesn’t hesitate to slowly push his length into you. Both of you are moaning as he fills you up, that itch you’d needed to scratch all day finally subsiding as the weight of him rests inside your pussy, letting you adjust around him. You both kiss lazily for a moment as you relax. “You can move,” you finally whisper into his mouth.
Hanbin’s hands wrap around your calves gently as he guides them towards your face, your thighs pressing against your chest and allowing him to get deeper inside of you as he begins to fuck into you. “My wife, only for me, right?”
He starts at a borderline painfully slow pace, getting lost in the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around him so tightly and enjoying how you’re pinned underneath him. Your hands clutch at the sheets beneath you, mouth falling open at the steadiness and precision his hips have as his knees dig into the mattress.
“Only– f’you, Binnie!”
“Mhm.” And if it weren’t for the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, you would think your fluttering walls around him weren’t even affecting him. “All mine. All mine to love, and to fuck, and to get pregnant.”
“Ah!” You cry out as he begins forcing into you at a faster pace. “Yes! Need it~ Need you to fill me up–”
“Keep your eyes on me,” Hanbin demands, his drag along your walls ruthless and everything feels so intimate. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing it harshly and flicking it side to side, trying to build up your pleasure so you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls out to the tip, pushing into you again and he feels a rush of your arousal spill around his length, causing him to moan as well. “Want this forever, baby. You don’t understand–”
“Yes, please, forever,” you blabber, so dick-drunk and gone already. He chuckles, tongue slipping out to lick at the sweat building up on his upper lip. “Baby… Baby~”
“I know, sweet girl, I’m gonna give it to you,” Hanbin reassures, hand leaving your calf to press against your abdomen. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna finish, ‘s where you’re gonna get all round and full with our baby and– Fuck,” he curses, feeling you clench tightly around him.
He looks at your dazed eyes, love evident in his expression and it almost feels like it’s too much. But you want it, you want it so bad, the images of him holding your baby consuming your mind and you pant out little, ‘Ah-Ah-Ah’s weakly. Hanbin’s thrusts slow a bit, but with the way he’s hitting that spot inside of you every time, you don’t really notice that much.
“Oh yeah, you like that so much, don’t you?”
“Please.” Is all you can manage, reaching up to hold his face with your hands, desperate for something to ground you as he begins to fuck into you at a faster speed again. Hanbin kisses you gently, a complete contrast from the way he’s moving inside of you and rubbing you and he’s never been like this before but you do–you like it so much.
His upper body comes to cover yours as he removes his hand from your clit, resting his elbows on either side of your head so he can see your face as you approach your high. “‘M close–”
“Cum for me,” he gets out, hips moving to provide you as much pleasure as possible, feeling himself near his orgasm as well. “Cum for me, I’m right behind you.”
You moan out his name loudly as you fall over the edge, nose pressed against his as his eyes stare into your own. Hanbin’s mouth drops open a bit as he feels you cum around him, burying himself inside of you as he releases as well. The warmth of his cum inside of you has you whimpering slightly, both of you breathing heavily as you catch your breath for a moment. Hanbin pulls out of you with a small ‘pop’– looking down to watch as his release leaks out of you.
A soft sob leaves your lips as his fingers gather the liquid, forcing it back into you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you, and you flinch at the overstimulation, hips jerking away from him a bit. Which he clearly doesn’t like, his hands pinning your hips down as he fits his length into you again.
“Don’t run away from it…” he trails off, leaning over to kiss you sweetly. “We want it to take, right? I don’t care if I have to handcuff you to the bed, ‘m gonna make sure you’re pregnant by tomorrow morning.” And when you feel Hanbin begin to weakly buck into you again, you know he’s not lying.
#⠀๑﹙ 𝓖entle愛𝓓aydreams ﹚ㅤ𝆬 ̼⠀﹗#lvlybin ☆ shb#zb1 smut#zb1 x reader#zerobaseone smut#zb1#hanbin smut#hanbin x reader#zerobaseone x reader#zb1 hanbin x reader#zb1 hanbin#zb1 hanbin smut
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Unspoken nicknames and lost loves – Dean Winchester (smut)
I crave Dean Winchester as if he's a drug. How insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader walked out on Dean and his lifestyle years ago, and yet she has never managed to let go of her love for him. Perhaps a nest of vampires in her town is exactly what needed to happen to bring them back together. Honestly, just pwp.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions some heartbreak and talks about leaving, fluff tho
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)
Darkness wrapped itself around (y/n), it crawled up her tired body like a snake slithering through Eden, knowing that chaos would unfold soon enough. The stone bench she was sitting on did little to shield her body from the cold night, leaving her trembling as she waited for his arrival. And yet she didn’t even know if he would show, if he had listened to the panicked voice message she had left hours ago.
Her eyes wandered over the rows of endless graves, trying to decipher the unfamiliar names to keep herself distracted. A part of her wondered why she was so sure that he’d show, after years of silence on her end – years of his calls she had ignored, of sober and drunk messages she had deleted. And yet a small part knew that he’d always come when she called, keeping the promise he had made years ago.
Dean Winchester had always been her enigma, the one she found herself clinging to for years, tied to him from her teenage years on, all until the day where she had packed her bag to leave the brothers and their lifestyle behind. A day that had flipped her life completely, luring her away from the places she had called her home for years on end, ripping it all out of her hands because her anxious overthinking mind had gotten the best of her.
And yet she didn’t regret running, at least not from the unstable lifestyle she had never managed to adjust to. But no matter how many years had passed since that day, she couldn’t shake her longing for the man she had once wanted to marry, the man she had hurt more than words could express, the man she expected to find her in moments of desperation.
“A cemetery, how fitting.” Dean Winchester’s raspy voice rang in her ears, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes towards his frame. He towered over her, letting his green eyes dance over her features while hers did the same, taking in every inch of the handsome face she’d never forget, no matter what may happen to her.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come, but I thought this spot was far away enough for you to at least consider meeting me.” Dean sat down next to her on the bench, letting one arm rest behind her back. It wasn’t the first time she was seeing him again after leaving him, they had run into one another every now and then, and yet it was the first time they were all alone, without Sam or any of her friends near.
“You know I’ll always come whenever you need me, (y/n).” The use of her name cut deeper than she thought it would, instantly missing the nickname he had once used, a familiar sound she craved like a starving woman in need of food. She had to avert her gaze for a moment, no longer able to get lost in the eyes she’d always find, no matter how big a crowd may be, lured towards Dean Winchester like two magnets made to fit.
“So, vampires, huh?” She was glad for the change of topic, all too aware of the doubts that began to grow louder, leaving her to wonder if this had been a mistake.
“You know I don’t want anything to do with this, but I knew I had to call you. I’m sure you picked up on the series of missing people around here, the second I saw them killing that woman, I knew you could help.” Her mouth felt dry, struggling to speak about the things she had sworn she‘d keep away from. But no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, it seemed as if there was no way out of this mess she had once lived through.
“I will call Sam, we will take care of this.“ Dean‘s hand found her knee, softly squeezing it before he dropped it once again, instantly making her miss the soft touch. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, allowing her a handful of seconds to properly look at the man her heart was still aching for.
“You can stay at mine for the few days you two will be around, if you want.“ The offer had rolled off her tongue before (y/n) could even have tried to stop it. For a moment, Dean kept quiet, not speaking up while she silently cursed herself for making this even harder for her. But before (y/n) could try to pull the offer back, Dean let go of a soft hum.
“That would be nice, thank you.” A soft smile was shot her way before he rose to his feet, letting his hands disappear in the pockets of his trousers. Both allowed one another to have one last look, giving the moment an almost melancholic touch before Dean parted his lips once again. “Sam will call you once we’re on the way. Be careful, (y/n).”
And all she could do was watch Dean Winchester leave her side once again, taking another piece of her heart with him.
……
“Thank you for letting us stay, (y/n). I’m sure this isn’t easy for you.” Sam had his hand placed on her shoulder, holding her close while Dean was taking a quick shower. She had missed having Sam around, the one she had kept in touch with over the past years, desperate for updates on the man she still longed for.
“I’m happy to see you, both of you.” She didn’t manage to speak another word, didn’t want to dwell on the feeling of regret and anxiety simmering inside of her. All she could do was turn from Sam, focusing on the bottles of beer she had bought, very well knowing that some things won’t ever change when it comes to the Winchester brothers.
“Shower’s free.” Dean’s raspy voice lured Sam from her side, forcing (y/n)’s eyes to Dean who leaned against the door frame with wet hair and clothes that hugged his frame a tad bit too well. With heat clinging to her, (y/n) tried to busy herself with preparing some snack, anything she could do to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dean.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He plopped down in one of the chairs, shooting her a grateful smile as she reached a beer out for him to take. (Y/n) was grateful that he hadn’t commented on the pictures she had hung up around her place, old memories of her and the two brothers, of shared friends and long lost loved ones. She was grateful that he didn’t tease her about any of them, well aware of the way she had struggled without them close, even though she had been the one who had decided to run.
“It’s enough for now.” His hum rumbled through him, echoing through the kitchen like a cry she struggled to keep bottled in. “So, no boyfriend or roommate you share this place with?”
“Oh come on, Dean.” (Y/n) scoffed at his words while shaking her head. She knew that he couldn’t be this oblivious, unaware of the heartache she had caused them both and still hadn’t managed to overcome. Even back then, when she had left him, (y/n) had known that no other man would ever come after him, after the one she had loved more than life itself, the brightness to her darkest days, the air she needed to breathe. She was choking without him, dying a slow death she was to blame for.
“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone, it’s been years, (y/n).” Dean’s words cut deep, dripping with spite. She couldn’t stop her body from turning towards him, from staring at him with glassy eyes that were filled with unshed tears. She wasn’t stupid, was well aware that Dean had been with many women, spending nights or even weeks with them, at least until another hunt called him and Sam away. And yet she didn’t manage to swallow her jealousy, the biting sensation that left a bitter taste on her tongue.
“I haven’t, and I doubt I ever will.” With her back turned towards him, (y/n) kept her eyes focused on the kitchen island she was leaning against, palms pressed flat against the cold material. She had to blink away her tears, unable to stop a few from rolling down her warm cheeks. The sound of his chair screeching rang in her ears, followed by the sounds of his feet softly meeting the ground, telling her that Dean was moving closer.
“Look at me, (y/n).” His hands found her waist, turning her front back towards him. His green eyes were filled with pain, a sensation so strong, it forced a sob right out of (y/n). Wordlessly he wiped her falling tears away while a soft smile played on the lips she had last kissed years ago. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“It’s so pathtic, god, fuck.” Her eyes fluttered close, she didn’t endure looking at him any longer, needing a few moments to deeply inhale some new air. Dean kept his hand placed on her cheek, holding onto her while silence wrapped itself around the two ex-lovers who clung to one another as if it was their final moment together.
“I know it’s my fault. I walked away, I couldn’t cope with this life. But I left my heart with you, I knew that I won’t ever get to love another person the same way I love you. And for a while I thought I could live with that, away from you and that unstable life. But now,” a shaky breath left her as her eyes flickered back to his. “Now I am no longer so sure about that.”
Dean pulled her into his chest, letting his chin rest on her head while another sob clawed through (y/n). With every passing moment, it felt as if Dean was tightening his grip on her, scared that she’d run before he found the strength to reply.
“You know, I was angry at you for leaving, probably for years. But the older I get, the more I understand it. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you into this, to force you to move around and live without any perspectives while we were both so young. You deserve better and I’ve accepted that. But I also always knew that you were it for me, no other person will ever manage to make me feel that love we shared.” His words felt like another punch to her gut, forcing her through these memories she had tried to drown with the love she had once felt – unsuccessfully.
“I don’t want to let go of you, Dean. I know I have to, but I don’t know how much longer I can live with this pain.” With his hand finding the back of her neck, he pulled her tear-stained face away from his broad chest. She was high on his scent, the comfortable scent she had craved to smell for years. His thumb rang along her lower lip, feeling the bite marks her teeth had left behind while trying to stop herself from speaking up.
He didn’t have to ask for permission as he dipped his head down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers like he had once done numerous times each day. Instantly, she felt hurled back in time, letting herself fall back into a familiar routine as her arms found their way around his neck and his tongue met hers.
Only as the sound of Sam nearing managed to reach them did they pull away from one another. Breathlessly, they looked at one another for a handful of seconds before she turned back towards the snacks and Dean moved towards the chair he had been sitting on.
“So, how’s life around here, (y/n)? Is it as quiet as you wanted it to be?”
……
“Dean?” She mumbled his name as she woke to the feeling of someone slinging their arms around her frame to pull her against a broad chest. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was Dean, wrapping her in his comfortable embrace as she shuffled around, needing to look up at him.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me earlier.” His confession filled her bedroom, weighing heavy on both their souls. Slowly, she moved her hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest while her fingers traced his exposed collar bones.
“I meant it, every part of it.” The heavy exhale that followed her words interrupted their silence, drawing their eyes back to one another. It felt like a deja-vu, happening just like hours ago where he had finally kissed her again after all these years. Their lips melted together, hearts and souls intertwined while he pulled (y/n) on top of him.
“Do you want this? I need you to be sure, sweetheart.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of his old nickname for her, leaving her dazed while a soft “Yes” managed to leave her slightly swollen lips. Without letting go of her, Dean flipped them around, hovering over her while he got rid of his shirt. He took his time, teasing her for a few moments before he exposed his upper body to her wandering eyes.
Dean allowed her to trace his marks, to explore the skin she had once been all too familiar with, needing a few seconds to adjust once again. But he grew impatient all too quickly, letting his hands disappear beneath her shirt to pull it from her frame. Within seconds his mouth found her chest, kissing their way to her naked breasts.
(Y/n)’s quiet moans were like fuel to the fire, begging him to suck on her hardening nubs while she bucked her hips, feeling his hardening cock press against her covered heat. Nothing could happen now to pull them away from one another, to stop them from what was about to unfold, they were too far gone, set on moulding a perfect mess they never wanted to get rid of again.
“It’s been too long, I need you, need to feel you inside of me, Dean.” She was proud of herself for even finding her words while he kept rubbing himself against her, leaving her bundle of nerves pulsing. His eyes flickered up to hers, filled with a teasing anticipation that shook right through her like lightning striking her body. All while she laid still, with her hands resting next to her as if she was scared to touch him, to mess something up.
“You’re still such a needy girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” With her breath hitched in her chest it felt as if she was drowning, drowning in everything Dean Winchester emanated. He rose back to a sitting position, chasing the distance between them to pull her panties down her legs before he stepped out of his boxers. (Y/n)’s greedy eyes wandered up and down his naked body, thanking whoever was listening for giving her a second chance.
“I want you bare, let me feel you.” She trusted him, knew that Dean would never risk harming her in any way, and yet she didn’t dare look at him while speaking the words that drew a gritty moan from Dean. He found his way back to her, hovering over (y/n) while he dipped his head down to kiss her. The kiss seemed to wake her from her state, letting her hands find their way up his neck to his hair, tugging on the soft roots to wordlessly beg him for more.
Dean brushed the tip of his cock through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin before he finally sank into her. A loud moan left the both of them in unison, a sound he tried to swallow with another kiss pressed to her parted lips. He gave them a few seconds before he started to fuck her with slow thrusts, enjoying every second of their all too intimate reunion.
It felt like a dream, a surreal experience she was only dreaming about but would never experience in real life. Having Dean oh so close, being buried beneath him while he fucked her with calculated thrusts that made black dots appear in her vision – a dreamy state she never wanted to escape from.
“Look at me, pretty girl. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.” Dean’s teasing words dripped with confidence, leaving her buzzing in heat as her eyes snapped towards his. They held eye contact while his thrusts grew faster, knowing that they couldn’t drag this out even if they wanted to. Too many years had passed, years they had been forced to spend without the other near, years they were now trying to make up for.
“I love you, Dean.” She wouldn’t have managed to stop the words from leaving her even if she had tried to. Words that left him chuckling in delight before he repeated them, making her heart flutter in her chest. A blissful state that only grew more prominent as she sneaked her hand between her bodies to rub her pulsing bundle.
“I want you to cum with me, don’t let go yet, sweetheart.” (Y/n) could only let go of a choked sound while she clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to stop herself from letting go. They kept looking at one another until Dean finally nodded his head, allowing her to let go as his ferocious thrusts pushed them over the edge.
Both moaned in unison as they came together, breathless sounds they couldn’t care about. The blinding sensation felt as if they were burning alive, robbing them of their breath while they were certain that it had never felt this good before.
“I’m sorry for leaving, Dean.” (Y/n) mumbled the words into the darkness of her room. She clung to him as he slowly pulled out of her, only to plop down on the mattress right next to (y/n).
“I’m sorry for just letting you go. I will never be this blind again, sweetheart.”
#dean Winchester smut#dean Winchester x reader#Dean Winchester imagine#supernatural#supernatural smut
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You were right, Billy... the stars are beautiful!
Of course I was. I'm always right.
Alternates and close ups
Rant, an AU idea and context under the cut!
One thing I haven't seen anyone talk about his Steve and Bill SHARING THE SAME GENETIC MUTATION. Which means they can BOTH see into the third dimension.
Now, this can mean one of two things for Bill as a character.
One, he isn't alone.
He has someone by his side, someone who understands and above all, BELIEVES HIM. Someone who makes him sure he ISN'T crazy and, someone to anchor him down into not being isolated in a world where everyone believes you're insane.
Or.. two, the drugs worked on Steve. And he couldn’t see the stars.
Steve, looking up to Bill, would still believe him, still stand by him. But, who is going to believe Bill if Steve can't see anything?
So, when Euclydia is erased, and everyone dies.. Steve lives, and sees the stars for the first time.
He sees exactly what Bill told him about. He sees something he should have seen for his entire life. He is basking in the wonder, the light, the dreams Bill has been telling him since he could remember..
While Bill can't even take a single moment to appreciate the view.
#bill cipher angst#bill cipher art#gravity falls#bill cipher#the book of bill#pyramid steve art#pyramid steve#au#creatimations#my art#ramblings
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Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990



Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)
Transcription below the cut/readmore.
INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL
Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.
He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.
Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.
In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.
It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—
I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.
We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.
The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.
Dennis O’Neil
April 1990
#scanned so you can read & interpret for yourself (sorry for the page quality this book is 30+ years old now...still a great intro though)#tim drake#dick grayson#jason todd#batman#robin#batfam#i particularly like the part abt the heroes being psychic family/post-industrial folklore. agree. tho the jason stuff is a little agonizing#'i dunno why he was so unlikeable' meanwhile jim starlin interviews are like 'I wrote him unlikeable on purpose so they'd let me kill him'#not that jim starlin is the only reason some readers hated jason but it's like. c'mon...having writers who hate robin is certainly a factor#bonds: I knew it was you#batman: a lonely place of dying#dc comics#dennis o'neil#heroesriseandfall
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Secret's Safe
Jax Teller x Ortiz!F!Reader Juice & Sister!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge
Word Count: 3k A/N: I had more thoughts to make this more of a Juice fic but then.... Jax LOL.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of blood, murder, death, assault, secrets, lying, trauma, abuse.
Word Count: 3k SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
As you opened your eyes, they squinted quickly as the bright sun hit them immediately. After blinking a few times, they tried to take in your surroundings. You were in the passenger seat of your car, the green signs on the highway were moving extremely quickly past you. It took you a minute to focus to see what was on the signs but soon enough you caught one that said Stockton 75 miles. That meant you weren’t too far off from where you were headed before you ran into the person at the wheel of your truck currently. That thought made you immediately snap your head over to see the blond haired man, hand on the steering wheel, white knuckled, his reaper hat holding back the oiled hair from the sleepless night prior.
“You look like shit.” You spoke up, clearing your throat as you did, placing his jacket that he had draped over you on his backpack.
It was the statement he had said to you when you ran into him at the truck stop last night. It was meant to be humorous but once he got a good look at you, he realized it held way more truth than he expected. The genuine concern is what brought him to load his Harley in the bed of your truck, and continue your drive out to Charming for you.
Staring at the smile growing on his face sent you back to the days you were falling in love with Jax Teller. Back when he had the kutte without the weight of the office patches.
“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” His voice sent a shiver through your body. It had been half a decade since you last saw him. It made you look him over more closely. His hair was longer, Jax always sported the long blonde look but this was a lot more lengthy than before, like something had happened that led him to forget to get it cut. As you looked at his beard, you thought maybe that was more the sign that things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing for him. Your eyes moved down to his kutte, despite being new to you, the vice president patch on his right was dirty and worn.
“You think we could stop somewhere for me to freshen up, I don’t really want to jump scare my brother.” You started to look through your backpack for your toiletries as you spoke.
“Was planning to go to my place first, I know how you are with him.” His knuckles tightened on the wheel as the sentence left his mouth.
You weren’t sure whether you were annoyed or comforted by his statement. You knew exactly what he meant, and it was unreal to you that despite the insanity of this situation, you could still fight about the same things you fought about then.
“And how am I with him?” It was said in a way that you both knew the answer, but you wanted Jax to humor you, or maybe you just wanted to finally win this fight. You stopped your search for whatever in your bag and looked at him, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer.
“Cautious.” He spoke the word immediately and you felt the argument practically line up in your voice like it was muscle memory.
Keeping your relationship a secret was ultimately what broke you both up. And that’s what made you move back to the east coast where you and your brother grew up.
Jax followed up his statement quickly before you could let out a syllable of your argument. “For the record, I get it now. I think I was still a stupid young kid wanting to flaunt my girlfriend around.”
This was completely new to you.
You looked him over again and despite the distressed look to it, you caught the fresh stitching. The patch was not only new to you but new to him as well.
“I guess being the second in command makes you mature.”
“Makes you see what people can handle, too.” His voice was firm as he spoke, eyes still on the road.
“He wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” You agreed knowing your brother well. He was fun-loving, caring, hilarious, but he had demons. And if anyone else’s found their way to him, you knew it’d break him because he’d try so hard to take them on his own. Not saying Jax and your relationship was bad, it was surprisingly one of the better ones you’d been in, but you knew by having that, you’d be taking away the one thing that kept your brother stable.
“He gonna be able to handle what brought you out here?”
That snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes said it all but he didn’t even need to be looking at them to feel your shock and need for explanation.
“I saw the blood in the bed of your truck when I was loading my bike. Thought I’d taught you better than to leave behind evidence.”
“That’s mine.” It was so pointed how you said it.
That made Jax’s brow arch in curiosity. As fucked up as it sounded, it was relieving to you to be talking to someone who wasn’t shocked by the possibility of mysterious blood or being on the lam from a crime. To be talking to someone who almost found curiosity in the thought of the situation.
“I got mixed up with this group of friends out east.” He didn’t need to pry the information out of you, this was never an issue between you, sharing your thoughts with each other, talking through everything, was never the problem. Telling other people was. “Real party kids, you know, we were drinking, doing drugs, having a good time, until we weren’t.” You took a deep breath before getting into the depths of the story.
“We were hanging out on the front porch of someone’s house, it was late, or early, however you wanna describe it, and someone rolled up, I guess someone brought a friend who knew some not so great people.”
Jax had a feeling he knew where the story was going but he wanted to hear it from your account.
“I got stabbed.” This part of the story was so straight to the point compared to the rest. The context here didn’t matter much compared to the lead up.
“Still missing the part where you got blood in your truck.” Jax was only saying this because you stopped talking and he knew there were pieces of the story missing.
This was where it was hard to say what happened, partially because you couldn’t believe how stupid you were to let this happen to begin with, but also since it was traumatic.
“They tossed me in the bed of the truck and left me there to die.”
Jax’s grip got tighter against the wheel and he sucked his lips into his teeth, the anger rising as he thought about it.
“Obviously I didn’t.” You tried to lighten the mood.
“And you decided to come back here.” Jax nodded, fully understanding the story.
“After I killed the person who left me to die. Who just happened to be the one who stabbed me.” Again, the words came out with no lead up, just the point.
Jax’s eyes darted to you when you said it. Funny enough, it was what he expected the situation to be. An ex got abusive, it ended badly, or maybe an accident when you were drunk, but the thought went out once you ended your story.
“Did–” He was beginning to ask how you handled it, you knew that was what he was wondering.
“I handled it. No trace. I was coming back here just because I needed my family, needed a familiar face.”
“Sorry this familiar one looks like shit.” Jax was now trying to lighten the mood.
“It was an unexpected one too. I wasn’t even going to come to the clubhouse, was going to go straight to a motel and then right to Juice’s.”
“No love lost, I see.” He let out a laugh.
“More like too much love lost.” You leaned back in the seat and placed your feet up on the dash.
__________
You pulled back the shower curtain and wrapped the towel around your body, turning to wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at yourself. The shower brought some life back to your face, but the only thing that was going to make you look well rested was rest.
As you opened the bathroom door, you started to talk loud, calling out and asking if you could take a nap but your words got cut off as you slammed right into Jax whose hand was raised to knock on the bathroom door.
“Sorry.” He chuckled and stabilized you by wrapping his hands on your bare arms.
It was at that moment that the both of you realized this was the closest you’ve been in years. You felt Jax’s breath on your face, it smelt like coffee which made you smile inside. Something about the domesticity of him in his home drinking his morning cup of coffee.
“I was coming to see if you wanted french toast or waffles.” There was that domesticity again.
“Jax Teller, who used to burn eggs, is offering me french toast or waffles?” The water was still dripping down your skin as you spoke.
“Alright.” his head twisted to the side as he laughed and then looked back at you, his finger now on your shoulder catching one of the stray drops before retracting his hand and looking back at your eyes. “They’re pre-made in a package from the freezer, was just gonna toast ‘em, not get all fancy.”
“I’ll take both.”
“Both it is.” He was turning around to go back into the kitchen and you felt your breath exhale the moment he turned.
You both never got a chance to eat together, he came back to ask you about coffee or orange juice and ended up in his bed. Breakfastless and clothesless.
As much as it broke you to sneak out, you did it. Sneaking out like this reminded you of what you were trying to leave behind, but now, you had to remind yourself of how safe you felt being here. With Jax. You stepped into the kitchen and saw the toaster housing the burnt french toast accompanied by the burnt waffle in the slot next to it. You laughed and grabbed both, they’d still be better than the junk you were eating on the road. Grabbing a pen you left a note on the table for him.
Thanks for everything. Taking your burnt breakfast and heading to my brother’s. See you around. xx
With that, you were leaving. It was late afternoon now, meal times didn’t really have a time clock when you were traveling with no sense of time. Driving to your brother’s at this point was like muscle memory, you didn’t have to give it any thought and before you knew it you were there.
One thing about Juice was that he’d always welcome you with open arms and no questions. Okay some questions, but none that ever felt forced or pointed.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” He was so chipper and genuinely excited to see you as he opened the door.
“Refugee looking for shelter.” You smiled back and brought him in for a hug.
“Come in.” Juice pushed the door open completely and with his free hands moved to grab your bag out of your hand.
Immediately you felt like a piece of scum in his pristine apartment and you hadn’t even had the grime of the ride on you anymore. “You live here or just showcasing the place?” You teased him.
He sucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and made a clicking noise. “I like to keep things neat.”
“I know we lived in the same house together for years.” You looked at the art on the walls, the only sign that someone made a home of this place. There were pictures of you both, pictures of Juice with your childhood dog, pictures of the club, SOA flags and Harley memorabilia.
“Hey I have this in my bag.” You smirked and moved to grab your backpack from his hands, he still hadn’t dropped it anywhere likely because he wasn’t sure where it’s place was in his sterile home.
You pulled the photo out from the side pocket, it was wrinkled and folded, the complete opposite of his.
“It’s before I started sponsoring, when I just worked at the shop.” He smiled, grabbing the photo from your hands. “You brought me and the guys homemade turkey sandwiches.”
“You always left your lunch at home.” You shook your head at the memory, “I hated coming by with just food for you.” It was true, you’d make a sandwich for the 4-5 guys that were working that day. It became a sort of bit, the guys were crossing their fingers that whenever Juice was working with them, he’d forgotten his lunch. It helped that you came with a bag of chips and a 6 pack along with the sandwiches. That’s what the picture was. You, Juice, Jax, and Lowell eating turkey sandwiches and washing it down with a beer.
“Everything okay?” Juice’s voice got solemn as he spoke, still looking down at the photo.
“It is now.” You nodded with a smile.
“You need my help with anything?” This time his voice raised an octave, in a more happy way.
“Just a place to crash.”
“Second room’s all yours.” He waved his arms in the direction of the room because he knew you were well aware of where it was.
“I’ll be sure to disinfect my bag before putting it down.” You teased him with a slight push and made your way to the room that used to be yours years ago.
By the time the two of you caught up, you leaving out the big details that you easily shared with Jax, it was nighttime. He brought you to the clubhouse, excited to share your arrival with the guys, and just happy to have his sister back in town.
You were plopped on one of the picnic tables as some of the club sat around you, laughing about some joke Tig just said, most of you laughing at him more than with him. Your beer was nestled in your hand as you sipped slow on it, not really feeling like getting drunk much these days.
“You’re nursing that beer.” Happy’s gruff voice alerted you. It was soft enough that only you heard him.
“Long drive cross country, it’s making me more tired than anything.” You explained, it was partially true.
But Happy saw through it.
“You killed someone.”
If you had been drinking the beer you would have spit it out by the abruptness of his comment.
“Excuse me?” You frowned and looked at him, you probably met this member a handful of times but you didn’t know him like you knew some of the other crew.
“I can tell, you got that vibe.” He nodded his head, his voice extremely raspy.
“That vibe?” You raised your brows.
“Yea, that life ain’t hold the same innocence vibe.” He answered you quickly.
“How would you know what that vibe is?” You were playfully asking now, knowing that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if anyone here knew what you did, but it wasn’t something you were just blurting out.
He laughed at that and didn’t answer the question. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me.”
“You freakin’ out our guest, Happy?” Bobby was walking out from the clubhouse, followed by Juice with a new beer for you despite you still not having this one nearly finished.
“Happy?” You frowned and looked at Juice as you grabbed the beer.
Happy grinned and lifted his shirt up to show his abdomen littered with smiley face tattoos and suddenly with no explanation at all, every question you just asked in the last 5 minutes was answered.
“Oh.” You grabbed your nursed beer and finished it off quickly before moving to the new and cold one.
Before the conversation could continue, the sound of two motorcycles cut the sound of voices out completely. Your eyes moved to see who it was, even though based on who was here now, the options were limited. You caught a glimpse of his long locks when he took the helmet off. Instinctually your eyes jumped to the movement of the person who came in behind him, tall and burly, and despite him still being far back in the shadows, you knew it had to be Jax’s friend Opie. With ease, your eyes moved back to Jax as he brought his hand through his hair. It was oily again, or still, which had you starting to wonder what his day looked like after you left.
“Jax!” Juice called out from behind you and it brought you back to the current moment as Jax approached, taking off his riding gloves with a big smile on his face. “Look who's back on the west coast.” Juice was beyond excited to tell Jax, the thought of bringing back the days when the group of you would hang out clearly driving his enthusiasm.
“Yea, I–” Jax was about to say how he ran into you the night before, you knew it, but your eyes went wide and your head shook just ever so slightly as a hint to let him know you didn’t want Juice to know. Luckily you were behind Juice on the picnic table so he wasn’t able to see it but Jax did clearly.
What wasn’t clear was how he was taking your action. He seemed a little upset, but also he had a slight smirk on his face.
“Yea, I see that. It’s good to see you.” He changed his sentence, his eyes staring at you.
Behind him was Opie who clearly was aware of what happened between the two of you and was trying to hide his smirk from the awkwardness between you and Jax that only you three hopefully could feel.
Jax took a step forward and you moved off the picnic table to stand. His arm raised to bring you in for a hug.
“Thank you.” You whispered and squeezed him a little extra.
“No worries, as always, secret’s safe.”
#SOA#Sons of Anarchy#SOA fanfic#Sons of Anarchy Fanfic#Jax Teller x Reader#Juice Ortiz & Reader#Ortiz Sibling#Ortiz Sister#Jax Teller#Juice Ortiz#my writing#garbinge
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ok ok so I was just going to draw long haired Sayori but then I came up with a bunch of elementaryish aged designs and now I came up with a bunch of headcanons and more sketches so woohoo lots or text under cut open for more headcanons (also idk why tumblr made the image change quality that is not the same colour or quality I had it in)

Yknow for some reason I just can’t imagine Natsuki being like a happy kid in the past like at all. I think it’s like a “kid who obviously has a bad home life and acts out because of it but nobody’s gonna to actually try to do anything about it so they just put her in detention” kinda vibe. I don’t think anyone outright hates her since she probably would have brought it up in base game/side stories, but she isn’t exactly a beloved member of the school either
In the side stories she talks about being very different in the past and specifically going through a really edgy ‘I hate everyone phase’ in middle school. This isn’t a middle school headcanon but I feel like her being kinda bitter before the total edgy phase makes sense.
I think in contrast to her having a super defined sense of self present day, Natsuki here was a lot more identityless and unsure about what she wants. She gets really into cutesy stuff in the future but here she leans a lot more into the angry side of her because she doesn’t really understand a lot of what she’s feeling. It’s why I didn’t really give her a unique hairstyle, if she had something she’d actually like I don’t think she would have changed it to the pigtails
Also her clothes are kinda bad and has a hole in her sleeve since she doesn’t really get a lot of clothes due to obligatory ~home life angst~ but this post isn’t about that so
She gets into manga pretty early but just kinda enjoys it casually on a surface level thing. She drops it for a bit before picking it back up, and suddenly understanding what plot and themes are lead to her going insane about it until present day.
She’s into skating because I said so
It also makes a great explanation for why she gets a broken arm and why she always has a bunch of bandaids :))))))))
Ok I might also just like giving character designs bandaids
Tbh I forgot if they said Natsuki’s friends met in middle school or not but I think it still applies since they probably knew her through every cringe phase she had (including the fanfics). But either way they were probably one of the few people to actually give Natsuki a chance which is part of why she puts up with their bullying so much. Throughout every phase she might have had they made fun of her every step of the way, to the point she’s just kinda used to it now. Doesn’t help that she thinks her old self was cringe, so by present day she just assumes she deserves whatever bullying she gets from them. Girl needs to have compassion for her past self. And present self tbh

While Natsuki was cringe in the ‘I hate everything’ way, Yuri was cringe in the ‘I am a massive nerd for cringe pieces of media and am going to make everyone aware of that fact’. At least that’s how they see themselves now
She’s a lot more open to talking about her interests. She can and will yap to random people with little to no prompting because she hasn’t really learned yet that people would be put off by it
She’s not overly social but more willing to chat with others with a polite and friendly attitude. She hasn’t been hurt yet so she is filled with joy and whimsy and is overall more cheerful compared to present day
She has her hair like that so I could give the vibe of ‘cheerfully annoying and/or adorable☝️🤓’ nerd archetype instead of ‘would rather become a speck of dust than talk to a person’ nerd archetype. Her hair is generally more dishevelled to show she’s more naive and less elitist I guess. She also isn’t as good at taking care of her hair yet so it looks kinda bad in a charming way(her school would not agree)
Her bangs being up with the headband shows her being more open and willing to be vulnerable to others in a way that’s lost in present day, where her long bangs hide a lot of her face in that one sprite. Her forehead is a metaphor 😭
I don’t really have parent headcanons but the cardigan is from her mom. I just think it’s cute
Random headcanons idrk where else to put but since that one act 2 sprite just borrows the teeth from Natsuki I like to think her teeth is also weirdly sharp it just doesn’t stick out as much. People think her teeth are creepy though so she tries not to smile with her teeth. She doesn’t care to smile like that anyways since she doesn’t really know how to in pictures (me projecting) and her natural smiles are a lot more subtle/don’t show teeth so it’s all fine.
Stating the obvious here but she was totally outcasted by like most of her school. Most people thought she was weird and her enthusiasm off-putting so they’d try avoiding her. She doesn’t really know why they think she’s off-putting though, people just start avoiding her for no reason. A few would go out of their way to bully her too, which ont added fuel to the iscolation fire, which ended up give her massive vulnerability and self esteem issues. Shocker ik. It takes a while to fully break her down from here to her high school self but it does mess her up a lot even then. At this specific point in time though she stills has her innocence so dw it’s fineeeeeee
Her anxiety issues are also there but she still has enough of a positive attitude to go ‘hey this sucks but maybe this time talking about my interests will work and they’ll actually like me!’ even if it didn’t work the last time. She doesn’t really know how else to talk to people so she keeps trying the same thing hoping maybe this time it’ll work out.
Uh.
things get worse. you probably know that

Sayori still the sillyyyyy
But tbh she probably changes the least compared to present day. I mean she gets more mature and less starry eyed but her mask is basically the same as her kid self. I don’t have as much to say on that specifically cause compared to the rest she doesn’t change that much
Yeah Understanding said she used to have long hair but cut it since she couldn’t really take care of it. I feel like even before the depression got worse she sucked at taking care of it because she has the self proclaimed attention span of a donut. Her hair is really scruffy and if you tried to comb it would probably hurt a lot. So she doesn’t ever
Her and mc are still the the goofy-goober and straight man dynamic they have in base game. Sayori drags mc into some shenanigans and mc tries to help her get out of trouble. He also has less of an ‘I don’t want to be seen with this cringe’ attitude he has a bit of in the base game since he isn’t as concerned with reputation because he’s like 7, so he’s more open with being directly nice to her. He acts a lot more genuinely with their friendship overall compared present day where he finds it a lot harder to earnestly share his appreciation of Sayori as a cool sigma male
A lot of their banter is light hearted, but Sayori doesn’t start interpreting his teasing for actual criticism of her character until a little later into their relationship. His jokes probably hurt more in hindsight when they do end up drifting apart because his lighthearted jokes stated feeling more real.
It’s sorta implied in side stories that there was a point where everyone found out about her depression and was worried constantly about her. It probably was from an old friend group considering nobody else seems to know about it, but I feel like mc drifted apart before that considering he doesn’t know. I think they became friends again by sides stories, but considering he doesn’t act like he’s as concerned for her well-being as he is by the end of act one, he probably wasn’t there when everyone else found out and therefore doesn’t know about the depression here either. Idk though side stories have different continuity apparently so who knows maybe that never happened or maybe he’s just stupid
Yeah of course she still has depression here. It probably got worse over time though since I feel like her constant silly oblivious persona would have came from somewhere. She is naturally pretty upbeat, it’s just that she had to lie more over time in order to keep that idea going. Now she feels like that old her is basically dead, with her just masquerading as someone who isn’t there anymore.
She’s like the only one here who has a positive opinion of her past self, to the point where she actively wants to go back and be that person. In a way she still is that little kid, but at the same time things can never go back to how they were. Uh yeah but she still hates herself so I guess no one gets to reap the rewards of caring for their past self.
She also trips constantly. I don’t think it’s that surprising

Since Monika has the least specific info on her past I got to be a bit silly about it and make up as much as I wanted.
She is like completely different from her present self. Similar to Natsuki she’s also sorta identityless but in a weird quiet gifted kid sorta way instead of an angry lost child sorta way.
She’s pretty quiet and doesn’t talk much. With a pretty expressionless face and more deadpan voice she kinda gives creepy horror movie child vibes but the type of child that appears before the horror actually starts (which is to say not actually scary but just kinda weird) (I just realized a lot of this is just me projecting what I was like as a kid but with less prep energy)
Yeah she’s extroverted but at this point she doesn’t really seek out people until she starts actively trying to boost her image
She doesn’t really have many hobbies outside of being a teacher pet and if it weren’t for her stellar grades she totally would of been bullied, but she’s nice enough to help people study so she’s safe
She isn’t really the most popular in school until high school. She does start out as the token prodigy gifted kid so everyone expected her to excel in everything so on a whim she’s like ‘ok guess I’m doing everything now’ and it’s totally not going to alter the course of her life forever
She likes the validation and wants to live up to the expectations so she starts leaning super hard into the perfect image. She gradually starts joining clubs, getting cool achievements, studying for those straight A+ grades, talking to people and networking, and overall changing her image from quiet kid to strong confidence friendly student who’s going to go far. Awesome
She kinda had to train herself to not be weird creepy child and would practice smiling, facial expressions, being more sociable, talking less deadpan, etc. She has a lot of “fake it till you make it” vibes in the side stories to the point I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it. I imagine her going from weird little kid to most popular high schooler around was like wearing the mask until it became the real thing.
Tbh this whole design started because I really like the headcanon design of her bangs covering her eyes. And then I gave her a stripped shirt because it felt generic but also not boring but it ended up making her look like one of the seven human souls lol
Honestly if I could describe her vibe here in one sentence it would be utdr protagonist but like in prep school

ok that’s it idrk how to end this but thanks for watching hit the like and subscribe and
#you can pry utdr protag Monika out of my cold dead hands#also I love headcanon posts can you guys suggest more because headcanons are fun#ddlc#doki doki literature club#tempestmothtalk#tempestarttag#art#fanart#ddlc monika#ddlc sayori#ddlc yuri#ddlc natsuki#see I remembered to tag characters
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sex with spencer Reid all 15 seasons (season 2)
If you are under the age of 18, please do not read this story. Thank you.
This will cover what I believe sex would be like with Spencer Reid from season 1 to 15. Warning contains adult situations, Sex. Dirty talk, Orgasms, Crying, Spoilers for all seasons and Spencer Reid being a sex God.
Also includes fingering and oral sex. (Female receiving only.)
These are a little bit longer than I anticipated them to be because I wanted to give a back story as to why the sex is the way that it is for each season. To give it in depth feeling of why Spencer was the way that he was in bed that season. So I will be posting them by each season rather than all at once. I hope this gives you something to look forward to, and please leave comments, I will be leaving links to the next season below.
You are a new agent at the BAU and Spencer Reid's girlfriend, the one who takes his virginity and has sex with him for all 15 seasons and beyond.
Spencer Reid knew the first time he saw you walk through the doors of the BAU that you were the one that he was going to love forever. The first time you smiled, he knew it was the only smile that he ever wanted to wake up to. The first time he touched your hand, he knew yours was the only hand he ever wanted to hold. The first time he kissed you, he knew your lips were the only ones that he ever wanted to have pressed against his own. and the first time he made love to you, he knew you were the only one he ever wanted to do this with, and he also knew he would never be the same you or his life now, his love and his only desire.

Season 2
In season 2, Spencer has reunited with his mother after several years and also Elle Greenaway got shot by the Fisher King, both things causing Spencer a lot of stress.
also In season two you two have been having sex for six months now and Spencer is more confident now since he knows that he can give you multiple orgasms in one sex session. And now Spencer
wears glasses. You find him even more attractive because now he looks like a little sweetie pie that you know can Make Love to you like no one else. Giving you orgasm after orgasm until both
of you are completely exhausted and can't move anymore, In which case he holds you cuddled in his arms until you both fall asleep wake up and do it all over again. And when he keeps the
glasses on as he has sex with you WOW, of course you and Spencer are the only people in the world who know that. But now that you know the effect that you have on him, you wear
sweaters and tops They're a little tighter and a little bit lower cut than they need be. Something that you know will turn him on, causing his glasses to fog up sometimes. Something that Morgan
makes fun of him for, "Your little girlfriend there gets you all hot and bothered, huh? Look at you with your glasses steaming up". Of course this is embarrassed Spencer since no one in the
workplace knows what he can be like in bed. According to them he's still a virgin, since again only the two of you know exactly what he's capable of in the bedroom. "What? She doesn't do
that to me?" He shrieks as he takes off his glasses to wipe off the fogginess. "It's just hot in here" he tells Morgan. Since you're on a case as soon as you're in the hotel room Spencer is all over
you. Kissing your lips, neck, any skin that he can get a hold of as He tears your clothes off. He can't wait to get a hold of you. "That sweater you had on today made me insane. I couldn't wait
to get you alone and take it off. I just have to have you", he tells you as he kisses you once more before putting you on the bed and having sex with you. The feeling that you wanted all day. And
you knew Spencer wanted it too. Spencer was so excited to finally have you all to himself that he forgot to take off his glasses once again. This happens quite often as he's always so excited to get you into bed.
After a little bit, you notice that his glasses have fogged up. You start to giggle and he looks at you as well as he can Through the fogginess and begins to giggle himself before trying to take
the glasses off until you put your hand on his and say "please leave them on". Of course he would always give you anything that you wanted, so the glasses stay on.
spencer was always a sweet, kind and loving lover. That was up until Tobias Hankel. You just thought that it was the kidnapping that made Spencer a little bit
rougher in bed. That was until the day that you saw the marks on Spencer's arm that you knew something else was wrong. You asked him what happened. He started crying and told you
about his addiction to diladid, you both cried when he told you, you were completely understanding and just wanted to comfort him and love him and make him always feel safe with
you. And he did, knowing how much you loved him, that you would never judge him for that. After all, it wasn't his fault what Tobias did. The sex wasn't quite as rough after that, and you
were happy with that. The night that he held a vial in his hand, looked you in the eyes full of love and said "you're the only drug I need, I don't need this anymore" Before throwing the vial into
the trash, the last that you would ever see of that drug. Withdrawal was a bit difficult since it did make him angry and he really didn't want to be around you. You spent a couple nights at
Penelope's. But the day that he called you and told you the Withdrawal was over. He made love to you so sweetly multiple times that it made-up for everything that you had gone through together.

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Heyyy so maybe I'm insane but. Do NOT Take This Cat Home (which I'll shorten to Dnttch) yandere rottmnt au. Hmmm. I havent slept in 24 hours so I don't know how you would meet them but I do know that it would be very fun to think about how the weird eldritch horror/"OH NO THEY EAT PEOPLE" part would come into play.
Oh wait actually IDEA you could start off meeting one of the turtles (probably Mikey, he'd be most likely to stick around instead of eating you and convince you to take him home because he's so lost and hungry in this new place, couldn't you pleeaaase take pity on this poor turtle?) and then over time, since we know in the Dnttch universe, the cat multiplies in at least two ways (I, in fact have not seen all the endings yet), so the first turtle could gather the other three over time. One could be from a plushie in the pet shop or won at the carnival (prob Raph), the second could be from the movie theater (Leo, I think the hypnosis is weirdly fitting for him), and the final one... Wait. I'm not sure. THERES A LITTLE LIVE PETS TURTLE???? YEAH OK THATS FUNNY I'LL PUT IT IN.
Buuuuuuttttt after the four are all gathered and living in your house (despite your insistence that you couldn't possibly afford to support them. luckily, despite occasionally waking up and seeing one of them in the corner of your room drooling, they've never shown any need to eat) they've gotten a bit attached. They saw you as a possible meal, at first, then a convenient hiding place, but they seem to have found themselves getting attached. They decide that since you've helped them soo much, that they should at least return the favor before they decide to eat you(something you're frighteningly aware they've almost done- the still healing scar from the last time the red one visited your room) or leave.
Now, you feel constant eyes staring holes into your back, and your rude coworkers now either show up on the news with their bones picked almost clean or don't turn up at all. Now, sometimes they'll bring back one of their kills to share with you (after all, aren't you hungry? They've seen you eat, but surely it isn't filling enough to really sustain you- to them, that's why you seem so tired all the time). Since you always turn them down, maybe instead they'll just have you help them store the leftovers!
Raph, as they've taken to calling the biggest of them, eats more frequently than the others to sustain his growth, so there can sometimes be extras that the other three don't particularly want at the time. He even goes out of his way to help you with tearing and cutting apart the meat! It's almost sweet, if only for the weight of what exactly you're putting in Tupperware right now.
Leo gets more aggressive about your attention now, always begging you to play games or watch TV with him. Sometimes he's even fine with just reading comics in the same place, as long as he gets to hold onto you in some way. It's annoying at best in the morning when you have to go to work, but downright terrifying when his marks flare up late at night after you've just insisted for the 10th time that you're tired and don't want to deal with him. Usually, the threat of flickering blue light vaguely forming some kind of sword is enough to convince you otherwise.
Mikey tries his best to help you adjust to your new roommates! He knows how stressed out you are about work, you should tell him about it! He'll even take notes about how they can all brighten your day, so feel free to speak your mind about that horrible lady who yelled at you today. Was she your boss? A coworker? Maybe a customer who asked for the manager? He'll give you a warm hug and reassure you that everything will be ok, and that maybe you should teach him a new recipe from granny's cookbook tonight to take your mind off things! The scene you wake up to the next morning is Mikey humming to himself while the girl's flesh sizzles in the pan you let him borrow last night, Raph drooling over said slab of meat, as well as Donnie and Leo playing the most intense game of rock paper scissors (a game they're glad you taught them- how else would they make decisions) to decide who gets the first plate of food.
Donnie's always useful to have around, his fascination with human technology quickly being honed into electronic mastery. Despite his more reclusive nature, he's still gotten you out of many a pinch with malfunctioning devices, like when you sorrowfully cradled your old toaster in your arms on your way to trash it, only for him to take it from you and return it a couple days later fixed up like new. You appreciate his contributions, and though you're the beta tester for a multitude of his dangerous inventions, with the amount he does for you, it's hard to not feel like you owe him, especially when he himself openly agrees with that point. You just wish he'd give you a break from the explosions...
#yandere tmnt#yandere rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#tmnt x reader#i feel like im gonna pass out and wake up later wnd then see this post and go “damn what was i ON?”#“this is genius. i should do it again.”#and thus my sleep schedule will continue to spiral#Strawberry's basket
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If you r still doing the fic recs, what are some good Bruce and Jason ones? I'm going insane
HELLO. oh my gosh. you know, since exam month has officially begun, i should be studying, but like, why would i do that when i could be doing this instead? this is like. so much more productive for my happiness.
it's no secret i am not normal absolutely totally insane about bruce and jason and OF COURSE i will rec you fics of them. i have 150+ bookmarks of fics just centred around them so i really tried to narrow it down to a few of my favourites. if you ever need anymore please ask again!
what a truly disastrous tragedy they are. the blueprint i fear. no fictional father and son has impacted me more. jason and bruce fic writers lace their works in crack because once you read one, you are stuck forever. there is no escape. trust me. anyways!
BRUCE AND JASON FIC RECS
don't take your guns to town by kreestar
batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.
MY NOTES: no one is surprised at all that the first fic on this list is time travel. the characterisation in this was insanely good especially between young bruce and jason i loved their parts. so bittersweet and the ending was lovely!
I Will Always Be There For You by squashflower
There's a closet in the manor that locks you inside. It has no lighting or heating or air conditioning of any kind, and Jason, safe to say, wishes he could burn it to the ground. Or shoot it. One of the two.
MY NOTES: there is just something so good about stories where it switches from robin jason to an experience mirrored by red hood jason and this is the perfect example. so so good.
all the small weights by sparkycap
When Batman gets hit with fear toxin, he worries about his Robins. His Robins think it's their job to deal with it. Jason wasn't aware anyone still included him in that group, but according to Tim, he's the only one available.
MY NOTES: fear toxin the trope that keeps on giving. best thing about this though is that the actual fear toxin is not the main part of the story, and i think it was handled so beautifully and maturely in a way i haven't seen before. i cried (twice).
-> just an aside, but i think you should read the other bruce and jason work by this specific writer. they're all insanely good.
Mermaid Tears by minnow_doodle_doo
And if real mermaid tears were what Jason wanted the world to have, Bruce would make Aquaman cry glass.
MY NOTES: teehee sorry for recommending ur own fic in ur ask minnow but this fic is just so sweet and special i need everyone to read it. a wonderful look into that all encompassing love bruce had for jason when things were much simpler for them.
Aftermath by ivy_and_ivory
Now: Batman is in Paris, pulled there by a case that extends beyond Gotham’s borders, when circumstances lead him to a badly injured Red Hood – who might hold the key to Batman’s investigation.
Then: The Red Hood storms into Gotham, begins to stake his claim on the criminal underground, then abruptly disappears – but only after he breaks into Arkham Asylum and leaves the Joker dead in his own cell.
Or: A study of why Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker, what would happen if someone else could – and how you move on from the aftermath.
MY NOTES: you know when you find a fic and you're just like. oh my god. this is it. this is exactly what i wanted. this is all that matters. yeah. that's this fic to me. im sort of obsessed with the idea of batman bonding with red hood without making the direct connection that it's jason.
A Straight Blade by Sparkypants
"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.
MY NOTES: i am so okay so normal about this fic. such a sweet little happy story but i was literally looking down at my screen squinting through my blurry vision because i was tearing up. the unknowing domestic simplicities of being father and son (hysterical sobbing)
Stargazer by LemonadeGarden
Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.
MY NOTES: okay so i think the best way to end this post is with the first ever bruce and jason centric work i ever read that changed the chemicals in my brain forever. THIS is the fic that made me really latch onto their relationship and want to see that reconciliation and recovery. THE roadtrip fic ever.
#bruce wayne#jason todd#oh how they r so important#batfamily fic recs#saki batfam fic recs#batman#red hood#robin ii
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Assisting In Deception (Part 10)
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Sexual Jokes
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 4.1K
Summary: Can Rafe do whatever he can to get his happily ever after with Y/N?
A/N: This is the final part and I hope you enjoy it! I am going to miss writing for these two because I love their dynamic.
Masterlist
The news had gotten out, not only about Y/N and Rafe’s break up but also about their relationship being only for the media and wedding. A lower-level lawyer at Cameron Development had found their contract and after the breakup was made public by someone at the company, she thought it was a good time for a payday. In true media fashion, Y/N was crucified for being a whore and materialistic, while Rafe was praised for being such a great boyfriend to her even when the relationship was fake. The double standard bothers Rafe way more than it did Y/N. She has finally learned not to take anything to heart. Rafe on the other hand knows how much those labels sunk into her skin, especially since he called her those exact same things. He has done every single possible interview he could to clear her name, but no outlet would really listen to his words.
Not to mention, his father’s anger just adds to his feeling of guilt. Ward screamed about how Rafe could treat her that way and he should’ve made the relationship real as soon as he knew he was falling for her. Ward wasn’t upset at the lie; instead, his feelings were more focused on the fact that his son had let love go.
Rafe is going to get her back though and this is the only thing he has ever been a hundred percent sure about in his entire life. The long days without the refreshing smell of strawberry shampoo and the long nights without the soft whispers from her sleeping lips are driving him insane. Every morning and night he reaches out to pull her into his warmth, always being left empty-handed.
He thinks of a thousand ways to make it up to her, but he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to go to the one person who he knows could help him with her. “Juni, please talk to me. I need your help,” he begs, wedging his foot between the door and its frame to stop it from shutting in his face. The shorter girl shakes her head, “She is very angry at you. I don’t know what I can do for you. We both know she doesn’t mess around and that’s exactly what you did, Big C” His eyes flicker to the carpeted floors of the hallway, dragging his left foot back and forth across it. “You don’t need to think about anything. I just need you to send her food every week. I’ll give you my card number so you can charge it to me because I know she won’t take it if I put my name on it,” he states. His hand reaches into his pocket to pull out his card. Her head tilts and her eyebrows frow together to become one.
“If this is about getting her back, then what’s the point of sending her the food without your name?”
“It’s not about her forgiving me or taking me back. I just want to make sure that she can still eat out. I know she’ll get frugal about her money while she is figuring out a new budget with her new income and she won’t factor in getting take-out into her budget until everything else is taken care of. Her accountant degree will definitely kick in.”
“That’s really sweet. And I know what you mean, she’s already started cutting her own expenses on groceries. I’ve never seen her go more than a day without having coffee from the shop downstairs. It’s weird.”
“Exactly, so do it for me, please. I just want her to be happy and cared for.”
“Fine, you are lucky that I was rooting for you guys.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much! Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay? Nothing is too big.”
“I know Y/N needs a trip to Cabo, but under my name.”
He gives her a playful smile with the tilt of his head. She shrugs, “I tried. Let me know if you need any help with your plan.” Rafe nods at her offer. “I will. Thank you again,” he says, walking away from the apartment after their goodbyes.
——
Y/N sits at her desk looking at the number on her screen. They start to merge together and she wants to bang her head against the wall. She got a job as an accountant’s assistant and she is not exactly thrilled with it, but it made the most sense because of her degree. She needed a job and she didn’t have the time to try to figure out what is the right career for her. Her boss has gone to lunch but needed her to stay behind to finish up this budget.
The noise from the door draws her focus to Lydia, the secretary for the office. Nutmeg and parsley fill the room with its aroma. Her mouth salivates as it smells exactly like her favourite creamy mushroom gnocchi. The brown bag with a familiar logo sits in Lydia’s hand. “A delivery guy brought this over. Said it was from Juni,” she explains, placing it on her desk before exiting. Y/N grins at the bag and her hands draw together near her chest. Her shoulders sway from side to side in a little dance. She opens the bag, letting the food overwhelm her senses. With her phone in hand, she takes a selfie of herself hovering over the food and sends it to Juni with a thank you. The food hits her taste buds and she wants to melt as the creamy goodness settles in.
——
“Sir, all of your meetings, appointments and business dinners are on your calendar. I took the liberty of decolour-coding the calendar and rearranged it in a manner that each happens in the same time frame every day. It makes more sense like that. All your meetings are arranged in the afternoon. Appointments in the mornings. And obviously the business dinners in the evening,” Ricardo debriefs, showing Rafe with his tablet what he meant. Rafe isn’t too pleased that Ricardo changed Y/N’s system, but he knows it’s because he is holding on to any piece of her he can. It isn’t Ricardo’s fault that she left. Rafe acknowledges he heard his assistant, “Okay, sounds good. Thank you. You may go back to your desk now.”
Ricardo does as he is told and heads to his desk. The ding from Rafe’s phone immediately attracts his attention. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and opens the text from Juni. The screenshot she sent makes the clock stop spinning for just a second. The smile on Y/N’s face is enchanting and he wishes he saw the little dance he knew she did after taking the food out. He sends a thank you back and practically begs her to send him the actual photo so that he can save it to his camera roll. Once she does, he lets out a sigh of happiness. This is who he is trying to fight to get back.
——
How do you make up for pushing your not-real girlfriend, but the girl you are totally in love with, away is not a Google search that has a lot of results. Something big and grand would scare her away. Something small and intimate doesn’t feel like enough. And there really isn’t a middle ground when it comes to gestures. He always defaults to food, so he wants to do something different from his norm. The sounds of his socked feet dragging against the hardwood floor bounce off of the walls as he paces the room. His head darts to the space over his bed and he stops. He takes in the painting he bought from Nancy. Each stroke comes together to show the emotions he felt at that moment and he knows the perfect way to prove to Y/N what he feels for her.
——
When she opens the door, Nancy isn’t expecting to see her sister’s fake ex-boyfriend standing behind it. “What do you want?” she growls, crossing her arms. It is clear that her crush on him is gone with the way he upset Y/N. He looks at her with pleading eyes, “Hey Little Artist, I need your help. Please.” Her cheeks start to redden, but he can tell that it isn’t because of embarrassment or her small crush.
“Why should I help you? You called my sister a gold digger. Do you know how much she is hurting right now? If anything I should be trying to figure out how to hide your body.”
“I know. I’m sorry that I hurt her and I want to tell her this too. I just need your help with how I execute this apology.”
“Well, I don’t want to.”
“Little Artist, please. I love your sister so much and I can’t handle knowing that I’ve made her feel bad about herself. I just want to apologize and show her her worth again. If she tells me to get lost after I do, then I promise she will never hear or see me again. I just want her to be happy.”
Nancy looks him in the eyes and her anger lessens at what she sees. Rafe is practically in tears at the thought of what he has done. His words have really hit home for her. “Fine, I’ll help you. But you are buying me food.”
“Wow, you really do take after your sister.”
——
Nancy watches over his shoulder as he sketches onto the canvas. The look she makes at the outline causes him to turn towards him. “What did I do wrong?” he asks, immediately erasing the mark he just made. Her hand stops his movement, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that this is great and all, but you aren’t capturing anything deep. I don’t feel the emotion you are trying to convey right now. Just make sure when you are painting to try to bring what you are trying to say to life. But don’t worry about it for now.” He takes in her advice and keeps doing what he is told.
The next day he starts painting. He is a lot more nervous about making the first mark than he thought he would be. “Would you stop being a big baby and just start?” Nancy complains, trying to push the paintbrush in his hand onto the canvas. His strength halts her attempt, “No, I can’t. I have to make this perfect, Little Artist. I need to show your sister how sorry I am.” “Trying to make it perfect isn’t going to work. The raw emotion you put into it is what is going to make it perfect. So turn your brain off and start,” she commands. She goes over to her own canvas to do some work. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of fate in himself by completing the first stroke.
——
For weeks, Juni has been sending Y/N food every single day at the office. Y/N has tried to tell her that leftovers are okay to eat for lunch, but she doesn’t appear to listen. Y/N questioned how Juni could’ve gotten the money and was met with the promise that her work has added a lunch plan for two in her contract. This doesn’t sound any bit true to Y/N, but she goes along with the lie. The headphones over her ears make her oblivious to the world around her. She opens the door to the dark apartment, grooving to the music. The routine she moves through when she gets home goes smoothly until she gets to her bedroom.
The thin large square package leaning against her bed is not a part of that routine. She approaches the gift, looking for any indication of who sent it or how it got into her room. Her first thought is to ask Juni if she knows anything and is met with the answer to her question. You got a package this morning when you left. I brought it into your room, Sweetie. This eases her worry that someone has broken into her room. She puts her purse away and starts tearing into the wrapping paper. The painting she finds brings tears to her eyes. Years of living with Nancy means Y/N knows a little bit about painting, so she knows the technique is nowhere near perfect. Yet, the meaning it is trying to convey is clear to the woman. She can feel the emotion he felt while he painted it. There could only be one person who made this for her.
The subject of the painting: her, specifically from a picture of her when they went to Greece. They had found a little cafe near the beach and she was completely in love with the saragli and baklava he bought her. She was too occupied enjoying the nutty and sticky pastry to notice him taking her picture. The painting isn’t a good likeness to her. Her nose is a little too close to her lips and her eyes are wider apart than in actuality, but the lighting tells her everything she needs to know. She remembers the picture vividly and knows that it isn’t accurate to the day. Instead, the light paints her in a golden light that makes her look ethereal. The love he feels for her comes across with every golden stroke on the canvas. Her anger starts to vanish.
She doesn’t know how she knows, but she heads to the front door. Y/N opens the door to find Rafe waiting with bubble tea in his hand. “The painting was amazing. It doesn’t make up for what you said though,” she comments, moving out of the way for him to come in. He does and sets the drinks on the kitchen island, “I know. I was hoping the bubble tea would make up for the rest of it.”
“You and I both know that’s not what I am waiting for, Boss.”
“I know… I’m sorry, Butterfly. I have never thought that you were a gold digger. I was hurting because I didn’t like seeing you with another guy.”
“Just because you are hurting, it doesn’t mean you get to hurt me.”
“That’s true. And I want to prove to you that I don’t truly think those things. But I’m going to have to be around you for that to happen. So if you feel the same way about me as I think you do, then please let me back into your life. I missed your excited squeals about food or watching you play with Dax. He misses you too you know.”
“I miss him too. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you.”
He steps toward her, reaching for her hand. His fingertips graze hers before she lets his large hand envelop hers. His lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am prepared to wait for eternity to get you back.” Her eyebrows form a caterpillar as she gives him a trying look. “What if it takes an eternity and one day?” she pushes. His other arm pulls her flush against his chest by the waist, “I’d beg on my knees an eternity and a hundred days if you want.” “On your knees, huh? How about on your knees between my thighs?” Y/N whispers, lips ghosting his. She can basically feel his lips on hers. “I thought I was apologizing to you? But I’ll be on my knees between wherever you want. So, are we going to give me another chance?”
“I think I have to think about it.”
He chuckles at her playful tone, “Well, I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” She takes the lead and brings his lips to hers. Their lips move in tandem like a well-oiled machine. Her hands twist in his hair and he plays with the bottom of hers. This is where they are meant to be. She is who he is meant to be with.
——
A year. A year of bliss as her official boyfriend. Although Rafe likes to count the time they spent faking dating as the start of their relationship, he knows Y/N likes the beginning of their relationship to be the day she found his painting in her room. She believes it’s more romantic that way. Now, she’s spent the last six months living in his apartment with him. He gets to wake up every day with her and go to sleep beside her every night.
After they got together, Y/N didn’t go back to work for him and he completely understood why. She wanted to find someplace for herself in the world, which she did. Her love of food turned into an Instagram account reviewing different places around the city. It’s grown quite the following, but nothing so great that she would quit her job as an assistant accountant. Rafe insisted that he would take care of her while she pursued this passion, but ever the planner she is, she said that she wants a steady income to make some savings for herself first. Plus, accounting is a little more bearable when she can devour delicious food for money after work.
Y/N is away at a work conference for the week and the empty house makes Rafe feel a little lonely. Dax keeps him company, but waking up the first day she is away is normally the hardest for him. Over the last six months of living together, they have grown into a well-synced routine with each other that is currently broken. Rafe would normally wake up earlier than needed so they could get ready for work together and he could drive her to her office before he gets to work himself. He tried offering to buy her a car, but she is very keen on saving up for one herself and he is not about to take away her independence. He sadly walks to the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth by himself. His hand reaches for the toothbrush and is met with the sound of paper rustling against his finger. He looks down to see a Post-it note on his toothbrush: I’m sorry I had to go away for work, but I love you, always, Boss. He smiles at the little note and feels his mood start to lift immediately.
The next note he finds is in his car. The sun was in his eyes while he was getting ready to pull out of the parking spot, so he put down the sun visor, only for a small paper square to float down onto his lap. Did you know that 90% of drivers sing behind the wheel? So sing your heart out to Call Me Maybe, Boss. He loves it when she gives him random facts. He opens his phone case so he can keep it safe to put it with all the others. He’s kept every single Post-it note she has ever written for him, even the ones she wrote when she started as his assistant.
By the third note, he guesses that the rest of the time that Y/N is away he is just going to be finding them everywhere. Ricardo walks in like he normally does every morning to give him a detailed rundown of his day. “The last thing of note is that Ms. Y/L/N has ordered me to give you this today,” Ricardo finishes, handing Rafe a blue piece of paper. He waits for Ricardo to leave before reading it. What do you call a butterfly that can fly faster than any other butterfly? A betterfly. He laughs at the horrible joke and texts her the laughing emoji. He knows she’ll know why without any context. He waits for a response and receives the kissy face emoji.
He gets home from work and is getting ready to feed Dax when he finds the next one. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice the note sticking to the jar when he fed Dax this morning but he shrugs it off. Confusion crosses his face when he reads it though. Hi Daddy, Mommy wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be an only child soon. Love, Dax. Why in the world would Dax not be an only child soon? Is this her way of telling him she is adopting another dog? Dax whines for the food and snaps him out of his thoughts. He’ll just have to call her later to ask.
The phone call he plans to make gets quickly forgotten and he is watching TV at the moment. However, Dax’s scratching at one of the guest bedroom doors removes Rafe from the couch. He goes upstairs to see what is going on, opening the door to see what Dax wants. The dog immediately enters the room and hops on the bed to his favourite chew toy that has somehow got in there. He heads over to take the toy into the living room so he can keep an eye on Dax. He stops at the contrast of the bright pink sticky notes against the light gray sheets. “Huh, why would mommy leave a note here? We never go in here,” he asks the occupied dog. Rafe takes a second and remembers the last time this room was used. It was the first-night Y/N had ever stayed over at his house. His hand hesitantly picks up the note and this time he isn’t met with words but a drawing.
The drawing is of a woman without a clear view of her face because her hair is blocking it. She is looking down at her round belly with her hands placed lovingly on it. Rafe’s first thought is that there is no way Y/N drew this because she can barely draw stick figures this well. Then the dots start to connect. The note before this one. The complaints that her favourite foods are repulsing her. The crying at every animal commercial. The little belly weight she gained that he just chalked up to being because he read in one article that the extra weight gained at the beginning of a new relationship means they are happy and he isn’t displeased by that fact. His happiness quickly turns to upset that she isn’t here to celebrate the news with her.
His hands clumsily fish for his phone in his pocket and he goes to dial her number. When the ringing comes from behind, he freezes all movement. He slowly turns around to see her standing with a massive grin on her face. His phone drops to the floor and he doesn’t care that a massive crack noise sounds throughout the room. He runs to her, taking her into his arms. He lifts her up from the ground and spins her in excitement. Her giggles send pure joy through him. “We are having a baby!” he exclaims, finally letting her two feet find the ground again. She takes his chin into her hand so she can look into his eyes, “We are.”
“I can’t believe it. We have so much to do. I have to go to the store so we can repaint this room. Actually, we should hire someone to paint a mural. And we have to pick out the crib, a new dresser, a diaper gen-”
“Woah, woah, woah, Boss. Slow down a little. The baby isn’t coming for another nine months. And I thought I was supposed to be the planner.”
“You are right. I’m just really excited. I literally just found out about them and they are just the size of like a pea, but I already love them as much as I love their mommy. I can’t help it.”
“I love you too and I can’t wait to meet them too.”
The couple takes a moment to just look at each other in their eyes, conveying all their emotions and thoughts. The baby was not planned, but it is clear to both of them that the baby is still very much wanted. They smile at this communication and kiss each other for the first time since she got home. For once in her life, Y/N Y/L/N took a chance on love and look where she is now. She never looked back on that decision to let go of her fear of commitment because it led her to not only her first love of her life but to her second one as well.
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @drewsmusee @starkowswife @mskezza @h34rtsformilli @ijustwanttoreadlols @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @bellbottombaby @jaydaaasworld
#assisting in deception#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron series#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#outer banks rafe#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#outerbanks#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#obx#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader
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Scene from a Tomarry fic I’m writing and haven’t posted
(You can give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism since it’s still in the works)
Tom wakes early and is confused to find Evans asleep on his cot, day clothes still on. The first three buttons of his shirt are undone revealing the necklace, hair tie around his wrist and glasses on his nose. It’s obvious Evans hadn’t had enough energy to get ready for bed and had instead just laid down, probably falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
He’s only seen Evans asleep in the middle of the night so few times he can count them on his fingers. Evans being asleep so late was unheard of, the boy seeming to always be awake long before the sun even touched the horizon. It perplexes Tom in a way he can’t explain. Just what has exhausted the boy to suck an extent he’s asleep at this time?
Tom gets up and dresses quietly, keeping one eye on his roommate throughout it all. When done he comes to stand before Evans, just looking at him. It’s the first time he’s been able to properly look at Evans in broad daylight.
His hair is even messier than it’s ever been when tied up, the hair seeming to defy gravity itself. However, it’s not unkept, Tom would even admit it seems to add a charm. One of his eyebrows is slit from a scar that Tom’s only just noticed, the boys hair usually obstructing the view.
What really draws his attention though, is how in sleep Evans shows more emotion than he does awake. Every line of his face speaks of pain, whether it mental or physical, Tom will never know. He watches the way Evans face flashes through pain, anger, determination and despair, all seeming out of place on the usually blank face.
Carefully, Tom reaches down and brushes the boys hair away from his forehead to reveal a scar in the shape of lightning cutting through the skin. It’s old, but appears to have reopened numerous times since it was placed, some scar tissue newer than the rest.
It’s then that he sees it, Dark Magic. Under the skin of the scar is a thin line of black, one that is only caused when hit with a dark spell. It’s the same for most of the scars over his face, and when Toms eyes slide down he find a newly healed scar starting at the boys collarbone with the same line.
His mind flashes to that night in the underground and how a foreign magic had wrapped around him. Suddenly, it all makes sense, the vanishing, secretiveness, glowing eyes, odd jewelry. It all points towards magic, how had he not noticed it?
Just what is Evans doing here? His mind goes to how Evans had immediately been untrusting towards him, how he seemed to know more than he let on. Then there’s the oddly targeted topics and words, as if he knows exactly who he’s speaking to.
Evans has been watching him, tracking him, stalking him. Paranoia begins to course through his veins, Evans knows, knows too much. The conversation on death rings clearly in his mind, the way Evans had laughed hysterically, how he had said with such honesty that he knew Tom would make a name for himself.
Without thinking Tom crosses back to his side of the room and pulls his wand out, uncaring of the consequences. Evans is a danger, and Tom is going to get some answers. In one fluid motion he is straddling Evans and holding a wand to his neck. Before Tom can blink something cold is held to his neck and green eyes stare at him with hatred.
“Who are you?” Tom whispers dangerously, ignoring the blade held against his throat.
A smile spreads slowly over Evans face, it seems almost excited, eyes shining with insanity. “Oh Tom,” he purrs, it makes chills run up his spine, “that’s such an open question, I’d expect better from you.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” He snarls, it only serving to make the boys smile widen, revealing sharp canines.
“You’re right, I don’t know anything about you,” Tom digs his wand deeper. “But I do know you were born here, that you have a history of theft, that you presumably killed Billy Stubs rabbit and that you led those two kids to a cave. I know you were exorcised around nine years old after you were caught talking to a snake, that at eleven an odd man visited youthat in September of that year you went off to a boarding school that you go to every fall and return around the end of June. I know you most likely are a Hogwarts student, and from your robes I snuck a look at, a Slytherin; how fitting for a parseltongue if Sister Cole is to be believed. I also know that you are known to get sick easily, spend most of your time reading, and are too skinny. I know quite a bit about you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, yet, I don’t know who you are.”
“How do you know any of that?” He whispers, the words almost a growl.
“You underestimate me, even now,” he says blankly, smiling vanishing. “It was clear when Sister Cole offered me this room that she didn’t like you, that in her eyes you were the devils child. Naturally, I was curious, I mean, who wouldn’t be? A poor orphan that can apparently afford a boarding school? So, I went looking, I asked around about you, got on Sister Cole’s good side, figured out everything I could within these walls.”
Tom seethes. “What about everything else?” he bites out, referring to many things like magic, and his fear of death.
Suddenly, Evans shifts abruptly and he’s thrown onto his back, knife cutting into his neck slightly. Before he can do anything Evans has his arms pinned above his head, hips straddled in a way that he won’t be able to get him off. The moment they make eye contact Tom rips into his mind, but before he can go far he feels a sharp pain in his side, bringing him back.
It doesn’t take him long to realize Evans had stabbed him, the boy pulling the blade out sharply, crimson blood coating it. He looks at Tom cooly, anger simmering in his eyes as he leans forward so that he can whisper in Tom’s ear.
“Even try that again and I’ll kill you,” he promises before pulling away to hold the soaked blade back to Tom’s jugular. “Again, such open questions, I’m almost disappointed,” he says, voice and expression as dead as the grave.
Anger and frustration rises along with the throbbing in Toms side, he hates being in such a position, and he has a feeling Evans knows. “Why are you here at the orphanage?” He grinds out.
“I’m an orphan, why else?” He says almost bored and Tom could punch him.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he tries to force the pain behind his walls, but it’s hard with his bubbling anger.
“Then be more specific.”
“What are the circumstances that led to you being placed in the care of Wool’s Orphanage?” Tom would love to skin the boy alive.
Evans hums lightly, looking at him in consideration. “I’m parentless and the people that cared for me gave me up because of money.”
He hates how vague the boy is and how he dances around the questions with ease. “Full name?” He asks instead.
“I didn’t know someone could be in such a compromised position and still be doing an interrogation,” he replies mildly.
“Just answer the question!”
“No.”
Who does this boy think he is? Tom is far above him, better, definitely more magically prowl than this boy could ever wish to be. He should be bowing before Tom, not restraining him like he’s a someone. Without thinking he spits in Evans face, the boy not even flinching.
He slowly removes the hand with the knife and wipes it away with ease, unfazed by the situation. However, his grip on Tom’s wrists tightens to the point of bruising, he wasn’t wrong when he thought Evans was stronger than he seemed.
“You seem to be under the impression I owe you something,” Evans comments as he holds the bloody knife below his chin. “You’re wrong, of course, since you’re in my debt. I will say this once, and only once, so listen closely. I don’t owe you anything, I do not owe you answers, I do not owe you favors, I owe you absolutely nothing. So, I recommend you quit while you’re ahead because I still have that favor and we never specified anything about what I can ask for.”
Icy dread runs through Tom’s veins, the reality of the deal suddenly stark in his mind. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t set ground rules for the favor, and even if they had it still would have been a large favor due to the boy literally driving the priest insane. Evans must see the dread in his eyes because he smirks.
Tom desperately tries to get his expression under control, moving slightly to see just how stuck he is. The answer is very, there’s no way he can get out of this until Evans lets him. He’s losing quite a bit of blood too, it wouldn’t do him any good to stay like this for long.
Evans eyes slip down to where Tom’s wound must be, clearly thinking the same thing. He closes his eyes and rolls his head before fixing his gaze back onto Tom. He doesn’t say anything, just waits, and Tom knows he’s waiting for him to do something.
“It would be awfully unfortunate if I died due to blood loss, wouldn’t it? It would be in our best interest if you got off, it wouldn’t do you any good to be marked a murderer,” he says slowly, and to his shock Evans breaks out into insane laughter.
His grip on Tom tightens, as he laughs hysterically, and Tom is left wondering what exactly he said was funny. Evans shoulders shake from the intensity of his laughs, it so loud he’s sure it hurts. His eyes shine with something absolutely feral, insane, dangerous.
“‘In our best interest’? I don’t care if I’m a wanted man!” He gasps out hysterically.
The laughter stops abruptly, and it leaves a frigid silence behind. Tom wants to feel indignant about the fact Evans had just laughed at him, but he can’t, utterly speechless. What does he mean by he doesn’t care? How could someone not care about that?
Evans expression closes completely, leaving a cool mask in its wake as he leans close. “I’ll let you go, I’ll even help with the wound, but only if you promise to never enter my mind again. If you don’t, know I’m more than happy to let you bleed out, and if you break said promise I swear I will hunt you till the ends of the Earth. When I’ve set my sight on something I’ll stop at nothing to fulfill it, understood?”
“Fine,” Tom bites out and Evans lets go of him, easily getting off.
#harry potter#tom marvolo riddle#harry james potter#harry potter x tom riddle#tomarry#drabble#ao3#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#fan fiction#fan fic writing#tomarry timetravel#hp#tom riddle#harry potter fanfiction#i’m bored
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Consequences • Rafe Cameron
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!oc (John B's sister)
Josie stepped out of the truck and covered her ears with a grimace. Loud music was booming through the Cameron residence, polluting the whole neighborhood with noise.
You must be asking yourself why Josie Routledge was at a party thrown by the most obnoxious kook in all of Kildare island. Well, the truth is that she didn't entirely know herself.
Her younger brother's friend, JJ had been boasting to anybody that would listen about his extravagant plan to sneak into the party, it was his idea of heaven; free alcohol, women and a chance to piss off Rafe and his posse. And of course Josie was roped into attending, she however did refuse to sneak in.
Her eyes were full of judgement as they scanned over the exterior of the grand home. It was an extravagant display of wealth - something not exactly out of the ordinary for Ward Cameron or his son. Hoardes of drunk teens flowed in and out of the house. Some were throwing up, others opted for guzzling down more alcohol in an attempt to numb the nausea.
Her feet met the ground with rythmical thuds as she trudded over to the arched gate of the entrance. It was beautiful, intricately carved strands of metal woven together to create a breathtakingly prepossessing pattern. Thin vines tangled themselves around the metal - it was ethereal, something that was a stark contrast to the activities of the Cameron family.
The music thumped through the walls - echoing the chaos of a kook party. As Josie sauntered through the crowd, a wave of insecurity washed over her, surrounded by perfectly styled hair and designer clothes. She was never the type to be ashamed of being a pogue; of being 'less than' the self absorbed snobs on figure eight, but she couldn't help but feel a bit envious of their freedom and ability to do or say things without so much as having to think of the consequences.
In the corner of the room, she caught sight of him, Rafe Cameron. He was facing away from her, leaning against the bar with a smirk painted heavily across his face, only accentuated by the way his eyelids sat over his drunk eyes. An air of confidence surrounded him. Everybody else would put that down as him being a spoilt rich kid but Josie knew that Rafe Cameron was genuinely insane. She knew that he thought he was god's gift to earth.
The brunette grimaced and glanced away momentarily as his laughter mingled with the noise around him. It reminded her of the times she'd witnessed him do unspeakable things to countless people on the island... It was always the same psychotic laugh.
Rafe was wearing a checkered button up shirt with the same style of shorts that he was always sporting. On top of his head, a back to front baseball cap sat, hiding his brown locks.
"Josie!"
An arm draped around her, ripping her gaze from the bar and towards the source of the voice.
"What are you doing here?"
Her eyes landed on a familiar face, one belonging to who the pogues refer to as the 'Kook princess'.
"Oh" Josie muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear from out of her eyes. "Sarah, it's good to see you again."
The blonde rolled her eyes playfully and softly squeezed Josie's shoulder.
"I haven't seen you in school since before your dad.." Sarah's sentence cut short as she realised that the subject was not exactly ideal for a party, or at all really.
"I'm so s-"
"It's fine, honestly, promise" she wiggled her pinky finger in the air, something that Sarah and her would do with kie as kids. The action brought soft smile to both girl's faces.
Before the pair could reminisce any further, a familiar voice rang through the air. Josie's head whipped to the left and she rolled her eyes - a deep sigh of exasperation escaped her lips as she laid her eyes on Sarah's boyfriend, Topper.
"Sarah! Come on, we need to go!" He yelled above the music.
The blonde girl looked back at Josie with an apologetic glance.
"We need to catch up soon!" She exclaimed as she walked backwards so that she could see Josie's reaction.
"Sure, I'll text you."
The kook simply smiled and turned around, she walked over to where topper was waiting for her with an outstretched arm.
It had been an hour since Josie arrived at Rafe's party and she had been trying her absolute hardest to avoid him and his friends; resorting to milling around in the kitchen and the array of unnecessary rooms scattered around the first floor of the house.
One room in particular that drew her attention the most was a room that she could only assume was for guests. It was a smaller bedroom in comparison to the others but it had an ensuite and a small balcony that overlooked the ocean, providing an etheral view of the coast of Kildare island.
The walls were adorned with beautiful paintings. Paintings of ships and planes, of islands that seemed untouched; unexplored. Josie ran her fingertips gently over the hard metal frames, the intricate patterns and bumps made her fingers jitter slowly as she did so.
It was as if the room was a portal to another realm, as if he heavy energy of the Cameron house vaporised as soon as your foot crossed the threshold. She wanted to stay for a while, to escape the drunk teens and bask in the comfort, the homeliness and familiarity that she felt there.
So, she sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, a bottle of some expensive wine in her hand as she sipped and absentmindedly tapped her foot on the hard tiled floor in rhythm with the beat of the music that could still be heard clearly through the walls.
John B and the other pogues were nowhere to be seen, likely meaning that their plans were derailed or they simply ditched JJ's plan entirely without telling her... Like usual.
Ever since their father had gone missing... died ... John B had become enthralled with the idea that he was still out there somewhere - unable to come home - worrying about his children. And when Josie didn't show the same concern and urgency, he retaliated by distancing himself from his older sister.
At first it was small gestures that showed his distaste for her unconcerned demeanor; he wouldn't speak to her for hours, sometimes days. Then, the teen's anger translated into him subconsciously trying to remove every single trace of her from his friendship circle. He wanted to punish her for not feeling the same way about the whole situation, for moving on with her life and continuing life as normal because for some reason, he couldn't.
But what the frustrated boy didn't understand was that Josie had to grow up a lot quicker than him. Nine months may not seem like a great deal, but when their mother abandoned them and ran off to frolic around Colorado without so much as a second thought about her family, four year old Josie was thrust into reality. She realised at a young age, that relationships are fragile. That not only did her and her brother have to grow up without a mother, but their father had to navigate life as a single dad for the first time. (Something he didn't particularly excel at)
By the age of Nine, Josie Routledge was practically a mother. She would wake up hours before everyone else and clean. She would cook dinner and make sure that her brother had lunch every day before dragging him out of bed. She comforted him when he was taunted by the kook kids at school or when he had night terrors and climbed into her bed at ungodly hours of the morning. She sacrificed her childhood so that her brother could have his.
Big John didn't do much. Sure, he loved his children; in his own warped kind of way, but he was so caught up in his undying greed and hunger for more, that he failed as a father in Josie's eyes. He was never there for her recitals or parent teacher days. He was never there for her brother unless he had to be and that was why Josie was almost relieved when he decided to go off sailing in search for the stupid 'treasure' he always gushed about. It was why she didn't shut down from the grief of his disappearance; nothing changed for her, she continued her same routine every single day. The only difference was that her father actually had a reason to not be there.
The brunette girl was so deep on thought that she didn't realise the bottle of wine in her hand was empty until she brought the rim up to her lips and nothing came out.
"You know...."
Josie looked up from the floor too fast, dizziness impaired her vision for a few moments before she could decipher who the oddly familiar voice belonged to.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to realise that you've been trying to drink from an empty bottle."
His voice was deep and gravely, the tone; a dead giveaway that the man was drunk.
She didn't speak until the spinning in her head came to a halt, her eyes fluttered open and landed on him.
Rafe stood at the doorway with an undecipherable expression.
"Well it was about ten minutes... If you were... are curious." The words that flurried from his mouth were slurred.
Josie's eyebrows knitted together.
"Well I'm not." She placed the empty wine bottle gently onto the floor and moved back on the chair.
"Curious, that is."
There was a long pause, neither of them uttered a word. Josie could practically feel his eyes burning crater sized holes at the side of her face as she stared at one of the paintings on the wall.
"Where's your brother?" Rafe's words fired out in quick concession. "Wherever there's one of you, the others are never too far behind."
She finally looked over at him again with her eyebrows contorted together in confusion and annoyance.
"That's none of your business."
He rolled his eyes at her response and took a few steps closer in her direction.
As he drew nearer, the smell of cologne and whiskey flooded her nostrils. Rafe was still an arm's length away from her but the smell of him was potent enough for it to permeate the room.
"Well," he began, the words that left his mouth were laced with a tone unfamiliar to Josie's ears. "Y'know you're in my house... at my party."
The tension in the room was thick, palpable enough that the brunette girl thought she could almost grab at the air.
Rafe's shoe cladded foot collided with the pale green glass bottle that she had placed on the floor just moments ago.
"And that's my alcohol you're drinking there."
He took a few more steps towards her, almost closing the distance between them entirely, his tall muscular frame was now towering over her with his hand pressed firmly against the wall behind her.
"So I'd fix that attitude."
Rafe rolled his eyes and turned around, he began walking back towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks.
"Why are you here?" He turned back around and let his eyes rake up and down Josie's frame.
"It's a party, who's going to turn down free booze?" Josie exclaimed in an almost deadpanned expression.
The man let out a low chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor momentarily.
"Who said it's free?" He smirked knowingly at Josie before finally turning around and beginning to walk out of the door.
"See ya, Jo"
And with that, he left the room, leaving Josie with nothing but a lingering headache and the faint smell of his cologne.
#rafe obx#rafe cameron#obx season 4#obx pogues#rafe x oc#rafe cameron fanfiction#outer banks#drew starkey#drew starkey fic#romance#john b routledge#jj maybank#sarah cameron#kiara carrera#obx kooks#obx
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walk with me...
(i turned this into an au: masterlist)


this is a very spur of the moment not well thought out au but... JUST LISTEN. (more under the cut & in my pinned)
Lawrence Stroll bought a team on the f1 grid in 2006
Renamed it Racing Point to secure a spot for his 18 year old son (and put him in pink bc hes so cute in pink)
Lance Stroll was born October 29, 1987, he started karting in 1991
Fernando Alonso was born July 29, 1981, started karting in 1984
When Lance made his debut in f1 there was a lot of talk around the paddock about the nepo baby and Strolls choice to have both drivers on the team be rookies. (Stroll and Rosberg)
During the first race of the season Lance got p6 and Nico got p7, both scoring points for the team
After the race Fernando Alonso went to congradulate the rookies, both stunned because the race winner was praising their work
Nico was honored to be congradulated by a world champion
Lance was... well. Maybe he liked the older mans praise more than he should've.
As the season progressed Fernando continued to find reasons to speak to the rookies, even though it was evident he cared more about what the brunette had to say.
After both Racing Point drivers DNF in the 2nd and 3rd races of the season Fernando made sure to try and lessen the pain.
Each time Fernando came to the Racing Point garage, each time he searched the paddock to find #18, each time he spoke it only made the 18 year olds heart grow fonder.
Lance thought the driver was like this to every rookie, so caring and comforting, but that just wasn't the case.
He was known for not going out of his way to do anything like he was doing with the Racing Point drivers.
After Lance got 6th in the 4th race of the season Fernando was the first to congratulate him, as if he hadn't just gotten second.
He noticed at the next race that he didn't go out of his way to congradulate Nico on his 7th place, he just went straight to him to comfort him about yet another DNF.
Before then he hadn't thought too much about Fernandos intentions or why exactly he was talking to him so much.
By this time in the season fans had started to notice how close the two had gotten, seeing how they naturally gravitated towards eachother.
When Fernando won the next race Lance made sure to beat him to it and congratulate the world champion first, loving how it brought a smile to his face.
Fernando didn't smile like that when others congratulated him, didn't smile like that when being asked about his wins, didn't smile like that when Nico said the exact same thing.
Lance felt insane for thinking this way but he couldn't help but feel a little special.
A few races later in America was the first time Fernando wasn't on the podium, the first time they spent the whole time after the race together.
It was nice, being in his presence, he felt like a sunbather in the sun anytime the older man spoke to him, it was silly but it was always his favourite part of the race week.
The next time he wasn't on podium was in Germany, he almost felt bad for feeling this way but he looked forward to the days when Fernando got p4 or lower because it meant they'd spend the whole afternoon together.
It was just like in America, the two of them just standing around going over the week and the last few races until Fernando asked him a question.
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
Lance laughed at the question, unsure where it came from
"Have I kissed anyone?" He asked back, wondering if it was a serious question
"Si, you do know what kissing is, no?"
Lance couldn't help but laugh again, he was 18 not 8, of course he knew what kissing was.
"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Lance asked, knowing for a fact he had, it'd be insane if not, how could someone so stunning not have kissed someone? How could someone with girls around him constantly have not kissed someone and more.
"I asked first, Lancito."
Fernando had called him that almost constantly since the season started yet every time it never failed to make the youngers heart flutter.
"No" He admitted, almost embarrassed "I'm not very good with people" he added, knowing the only people on the grid he could talk to easily were Fernando and Nico
"I could be your first"
(if this doesn't make sense pretend u never saw it)
#this is so bad#but i cant stop thinking about it#(i'm obsessed with renault nando and racing point lance)#(so ofc i had to find some way to put them together)#(even if it sucks)#f1#formula 1#lance stroll#aston martin#fernando alonso#racing point#renault#2006#nico rosberg#fa14#ln18#au#ff#rpf#alternate universe#strollonso#lance stroll x fernando alonso#is this real#does this make sense.#first kiss au
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