#like I literally don’t have to worry about anybody or anything

[strawbbfluff]

Maybe the single life is for me

[on-leatheredwings]

Remedial Lesson (18+)

Yandere ! Dick Grayson x (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > request: non-con for dick grayson? maybe him abusing his power as the titans leader to be a little flirty/touchy with reader before tricking them into letting him inside of their bedroom under false pretenses? > tw/cw: explicit non-con, baby trapping, yandere behaviors, abusive power dynamic > a/n: i just love writing a manipulative dick! And i love writing a manipulative Dick! (ba dum tss) emphasis on non-con in tw's, its not dubcon! > word count: 2545

Stupid, stupid. 

At that thought, the logical, respectable half of your brain admonishes you.

You aren’t stupid. You just were unlucky, you correct softly. You’re plenty capable, and an asset to the team. It could’ve happened to anybody. 

Recently, you’ve been trying to stop your self-deprecation, in an attempt to bolster your self-esteem, solidify your confidence, and quell negative self-talk. 

… Therapist’s orders. 

Being the ever-so-capable superhero you are, today you got blasted by some hypnotizing ray. And then promptly went on a murderous rampage on your teammates. 

You don’t recall anything that happened, only waking up from what felt like a deep sleep to the outstretched hand of Nightwing. Koriand’r told you on the way back to the Tower that you almost killed him – making you stiffen in horror. You almost killed him, and apparently the only thing he had been worried about was you. At the thought, you feel heat swarm in your cheeks.

Despite not having any powers, Nightwing is plenty formidable. You were in complete awe of him today; the way he moves is so effortless, and he’s not even a metahuman. 

You clench your fist with determination. You aren’t a metahuman either, but you pale in comparison to him. You want to be just as formidable as he is. Be just as deserving of the title “Titan.”

On the subject of Nightwing, your mind wanders… He had been quite… hands-on with you today. Shaking you by the shoulders, hand on your cheeks lightly slapping you awake. Encouraging you back to your feet, hand brushing your waist. When the battle was over, you nearly collapsed to your knees, spent. But he caught you, appearing from out of nowhere. 

“Easy,” he had said into your ear, which made you shiver. 

You sigh. 

Okay. So maybe you had a crush. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. He’s your boss – the Titans’ illustrious captain. He was simply helping you along, watching out for a teammate. Mentoring a new hero. After all, you are the Titans’ newest recruit, a post that months later still feels unreal. 

You walk amongst them through the doors of the Tower, conversation and chatter flowing around you. You don’t join in, still ashamed from today’s blunder. How many of them had you tried to hurt? The team has just finished a mission, and it seems a pizza party is in order for tonight. You smile gingerly as Garfield announces vibrantly that you’re invited. (A no-brainer to anyone else since you literally live here, but to you, it means a lot.)

Your secret identity known to the team, you dismiss yourself to change out of your suit and into your civvies. “Hurry back soon,” they say, and the sentiment warms you. You indeed jog to your bedroom, eager to return to the festivities. You’re one of them. You’re really one of them.

You slip into your room, tossing the door back without a second glance. Your fingers pull on the bottom of your shirt. You’re about to peel off your suit, when you hear a shallow thud. That was not the sound your door makes once it's been closed. 

You whip around, and see–

“Nightwing?”

Your leader stands in the doorway, foot acting as an impromptu door stopper. You take him in. His hair cascades in gentle dark waves, curling by the ears. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his suit was painted on. Despite being lightly armored and fortified, it stretches across his body like plastic wrap. You could trace every muscle under his skin– okay, relax. Christ. 

Hey, you think back, mentally wagging a finger. No thought policing.

At the sound of your name being called, you realize you’ve been gawking like an idiot while he stands in your doorframe. You straighten.

“Oh! Y-yes!?”

“Can I come in?” he asks. You nod so fervently that your head is a blur of color.

Nightwing does so, the slightest amicable smile on his lips. Around friends and allies, it seems to be a default expression of his. Still, you’ve spent enough time around him to note that he looks quite… serious. Concerned.

“... Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask, eager to rectify whatever was upsetting him. You so want to impress him. Badly. 

He holds up his hands, as if saying, At ease. “All you can do for me is let me know that you’re alright.”  

You offer a pitiable smile, warmth swirling in your chest. “I am. Thanks for asking– and I’m so, so sorry about today–” 

Nightwing waves you off, approaching you. He places a hand on your shoulder in consolation. “Hey, it could’ve–”

“--Happened to anyone,” you finish, nodding. You look down.

“... Although I admit…” 

Your head snaps to attention. “Yes?”

Nightwing then sighs. His gaze falls to the floor. He tuts and shakes his head as if troubled. You swallow drily. So focused on him, you don’t even notice the circles his thumb kneads into your shoulder.

“Your performance today.” Your throat clenches. Nightwing’s gaze returns to you, hard and critical behind his mask. “Well, frankly, it left much to be desired.”

Your heart plummets, hitting the pit of your stomach. You’re mortified. You haven’t been meeting his standards? Did everyone else think that? Were their hopes misplaced? You feel the thrum of anxiety jitter underneath your skin as you bow your head. Your gaze now captures the two feet keeping you upright.

There’s a stroke to your cheek, to which you flinch. 

“Hey.” Your head whips up. You look up at him, into white lenses that have the ghost of his eyes behind them. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.” 

His face is gentle and consoling. You exhale. He’s just being honest, you think. He’s just being honest. Nothing wrong with some constructive criticism. You let him sit you down on the edge of your bed.

“H-how can I improve?” you ask, voice croaking. “I know I fucked up today. I should’ve seen it coming. I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you or anybody else–”

“Hey,” he says again, soft and delicately. “Listen, it’s alright. I’m going to teach you some things. How to resist better.” 

You nod, slowly, anticipating some verbal advice. 

You watch him with anticipation, giving him your full attention– and then, he kneels before you. You instinctively feel alarm at the increased proximity, before you swat it down. His head is level with your lower abdomen, uncomfortably close to your lap. You don’t have to make it weird, you scoff at yourself.

“... Y-yes?” you say. 

“I’m going to take off your pants.”

You stare. 

Did you hear him right? Was he… joking? 

Clearly not. His hands land on your thighs, effectively drawing a sharp inhale from you. You both lock eyes. His face still holds the same vaguely amicable grin, but it’s now a leer. Your heart quickens. You don’t feel right. 

“... Nightwing?” you ask, feeling suddenly quite small. You don’t know what’s happening. What’s going on?

“You need to be able to withstand a lot more than you currently can,” he continues, talking as casually as if you’re speaking about the weather. You are shell shocked, frozen into submission at the touch of his hands pulling your pants off. His nails scrape along your skin when he has to use more force to jerk it free from under your ass, to which you still don’t react. 

What’s going on? your mind cycles on loop.

It’s when he pulls down your underwear you finally jolt, clumsily kicking at him. Which he catches of course. What a poor move, because your kick only enables him to spread your legs at his leisure. Heat rages to your cheeks. Though not entirely off, your panties do a pitiful job of concealing the tangle of hair nestled between your thighs. The mortification racing through your bloodstream makes you croak. It makes you keep throwing kicks and swats and punches until Nightwing is forced to sandwich your body against your bed. He pins your hands down to the bed, and you know by now it’s a lost cause.

“Help–” you begin, but Nightwing adeptly slips your wrists into one hand, and uses the other to silence you. He smiles bashfully, as if he hadn’t just stripped you without consent or fanfare.

“This is all for you–” At the furrow of your brow, he says, indignantly, “I’m serious! How easy was it for that guy to hypnotize you today?” The question throws a knife into your heart. “Or when last week you were apprehended? Or the week before that?” Each instance makes the burning building in your eyes more and more unbearable. He isn't wrong. Your tears build. He’s not wrong.

Nightwing slowly removes his hand off your mouth, anticipating another yell. You squirm, but don’t make a sound aside from shuddering breaths. 

His grin loses all its flirty qualities. It widens, self-satisfied and predatory. With his teeth he peels off his free hand’s glove, slides it down your torso to the apex between your thighs.

“No,” you whimper, to which he hushes you, lips by the shell of your ear for the second time today. His fingers explore without warning, tracing your labia and brushing against your clit. You gasp, but you don’t scream.

Nightwing tuts, shaking his head. “You’re already wet, I see.”

You tremble, filled with humiliation. “No, I’m not.” One digit delves deeper, experimentally. You grit your teeth.

“You want this,” he says, and you fill with dread at the condescension of his tone. Like this was expected. Like you had so much to learn.

“No, I don’t.”

“But you do. You’re telling me you do.” His fingers – the pair that when gloved, there would’ve been two cobalt blue stripes – scissor inside you, and your breath hitches. “Your body’s telling me you do.”

“I-it’s a biological response.” At the feeling of his fingers swimming inside you, you whimper. This is insane. It can’t be happening. Yet you jerk and twitch with each of his motions. “P-please, I would… Please stop, now…” He doesn’t, pumping his sinful fingers into you. Teases you by dragging them out. 

You throw your head back, biting your lip. He’s panting into your ear – you’d think you were doing something to him, the way he sounds. Your overhead light beams into your gaze, dizzying. It burns, so you close your eyes, hoping this is some humiliating dream. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

“So you say– Hey.” He nips at your ear and you stir. “Look at me. Look at me.” You do so, and find him staring up at you. His mask is not enough of a barrier. Even if you can’t see them, you know his eyes are scraping over you, peeling your skin back, seeing you whole. Your embarrassment, your weakness, your shame.

“Please stop,” you whisper, eyes stinging. Your thighs tremble, to which he places his free hand on them to steady them. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. You’re teammates. He’s your captain. 

Nightwing sighs, looking disappointed. Oh no, your mind spirals. He’s disappointed in you. Despite you being desperately uncomfortable– violated– he’s at fault– he’s the one doing something wrong– 

Despite your logical brain asserting itself, you are flooded with a tidal wave of anxiety.

“That’s not good, you know,” he says, and he looks mournful. “Whining is just what they want to hear.” His fingers disappear from your body, and their absence leaves you in shock. Wanting.

Wanting? Do I want this? you think.

Nightwing is reaching behind his neck, tugging and pulling. Before you know it, he’s bare-chested. You don’t marvel at his body, like you would have just an hour before.

“Bad guys aren’t going to listen to you just because you beg.” A tear slips down your face. You swipe at it, but not quick enough for him to miss it. “And they won’t care if you cry… Maybe you don’t need to learn how to resist. You’re not cut out for it, I think,” he tsks. “Maybe, you need to learn how to endure.”

You feel something blunt and wet prod at your entrance, and that’s when the last remains of your primal fight-or-flight instincts kick in. You start to squirm, back arching off the bed. “Please, please, please– no– stop– I don’t want this–” His hand clamps down on your mouth once more, and hard. You push him with all your might, but it’s not enough. You aren’t strong enough.

“Just the tip,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. Just the tip. You can handle at least that. Just the tip.

He repeats it for himself, not you. This you realize as he enters anyway, despite your teary complaints. It is not just the tip; he bottoms out. “You can handle this. I know you can.” 

You’re so confused. You’re so, so confused. You merely clench your eyes shut, nodding at his encouragement. You don’t know what else to do. 

“I know, I know,” he comforts. “Don’t worry, you’re taking it really well. You take it perfect.” You cling onto his words of reassurance, no matter how twisted it feels. It’s the only anchor you’ve got. Each thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids, bed rocking. The ding of your bed frame hitting the wall is enough to make you finally quiet. The last thing you want is for the others to hear. To walk in and see you utterly helpless. Powerless. Incapable. 

You swallow your sobs, but let the tears stream freely.

“It’d be better if I just got you pregnant right now.”

You feel a cold knife of fear pierce your chest. He can’t. He can’t. You wouldn’t be able to be a hero anymore. 

“You’d be better suited for it,” he hums. You can tell he’s near, his hips snapping more frenetically, his words cut off with his own moans. You’re ashamed to admit moans of your own may have slipped out. You don’t even bother resisting at this point, hoping that if not your strength, then your body can satisfy him. Hoping at least that your body will meet his standards.

“Fuck,” you hear, and not a moment later you feel him shoot ropes of cum into your cunt. You can feel both his cock that throbs with each spray and the warmth spreading into you. You don’t know why you’re shocked at the sensation – it wasn’t as if he seemed keen on using a condom. Nightwing’s hands release you, having gripped you so hard you’re sure you’ve bruised.

He dots sweet kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. It should be all very sweet, but you can't ignore the poison of the circumstance. “You did so good, you did perfect,” are amongst the accolades he whispers into your clammy skin. You nod weakly, letting him kiss your tears away.

Nightwing dives in for a kiss, desperate to take even more than you’ve already given him. You return it, heart palpitating. You bat away the negative thoughts that threaten to swarm your mind whole. No more negative self-talk, after all. No self-deprecation. It’s okay. You took it well. You endured, like he said.

You did perfect.

[reiding-writing]

i LOVE your angsts

you can write something about the reader and spencer being apart after a conflict, being childish and sarcastic towards each other afterwards, and then, one of the cases ends in an explosion and, or, fire in which one of the two is trapped and alone, and the other takes risks to save him

who knows, maybe one of the two in the hospital is still delirious and asking to marry the other? anyway, you choose

basically two idiots in love and proud who can't bear the thought of losing each other

thanks 🥺🫶🏻

commitment [ s.r ]

You love Spencer Reid more than anything in the world, but committing to someone for life was not something to be considered lightly. A life or death situation might speed up the decision process a little.

spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 4.0k ll masterlist!!

WARNINGS: commitment issues, fire, major character injury, miscommunication, happy ending

a/n: happy 29th of february? is that something to be celebrated? anyway, kinda took this one on a rollercoaster ride, enjoy :)

Spencer Reid wanted a family.

He wanted to get married, have 2.5 kids and live in a house with two cars and a white picket fence.

But he didn’t just want that with anybody, he wanted that with you.

You weren’t sure.

You loved Spencer with your whole heart, you really did, but after your parents’ failed marriage and your negative experiences with romantic relationships in the past, the fact that you’d even been in a committed relationship with Spencer for the last four years was an achievement in itself.

You’d talked about it a few times, but you’d always come to opposite decisions. Spencer wanted to settle down with you, and you were afraid to do so.

Your most recent conversation on the subject ended less as a conversation and more as an argument.

“So you don’t really love me then?” You could see the betrayal in his eyes at you again shutting down the idea, his tone carrying more upsetness than accusation.

“No Spencer of course I love you what are you talking about?” You can feel yourself nearing tears at his question. He was quite literally the person you loved most in the world, and to have him shut down your feelings because you didn’t see eye to eye with him broke your heart.

You spent the next few days staying with Garcia.

You tried to not let your disagreement with Spencer influence your work, but the fact that you wouldn’t so much as spare a glance at each other during office hours tipped off the rest of the team about your situation immediately.

“So,” Morgan leaned his hip against the counter of the kitchenette as you fixed yourself a cup of coffee, neglecting Spencer’s mug on the shelf instead of making both cups at once like you’d usually do.

“So?” You raise an eyebrow at his incomplete sentence.

“What’s going on between you and pretty boy?”

You sigh before he even finishes the question. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,”

“Your lover’s quarrel is ruining the vibes, it is most definitely something for me to worry about,” You roll your eyes at his response. Trust Morgan to find the most unserious way to express his concern for the two of you.

Logically you knew it was because he wanted to tread lightly, but that didn’t make it any less eye-roll inducing.

“So,” He leans forwards a little. “What’s going on? Did you disagree on whether Star Trek or Star Wars was better or something?”

You give him a deadpan stare and he immediately surrenders, raising up his hands as he concedes.

“What else do you have to argue about? You guys are like the most boring couple I know,” Morgan shrugs nonchalantly, and you halt the stirring of your teaspoon in your drink.

Boring? You weren’t boring. Were you? Did Spencer think you were boring? Did he think your relationship was boring? Maybe he only wanted to tie the knot in the hope that it would ‘reignite the spark’ or whatever people said.

“Hey.” Morgan snapped his fingers in front of your face, effectively pulling you out of your internal spiral.

“Hm?”

“I asked if it was serious, Garcia told me you’ve been staying with her the last few days,”

Curse Garcia and Morgan’s no filter relationship.

“Everything’s fine, we both just need time to cool off,”

“You’re sure?”

You have to consciously suppress a sigh at his continued questioning. Morgan was great, but god did he push.

“Yes Morgan, everything’s fine,” You spoke with enough conviction that you managed to convince him of your truth, although whether you believed it yourself was another question.

“Good, because if you two ever broke up I’m pretty sure the whole team would fall apart,” His tone tells you his joking, as does his expression as he leaves you to your coffee, but your brain isn’t as kind as to just let the comment fly over your head, and you’re sent into another spiral as you make your way back over to your desk.

Do the whole team really think of your relationship with Spencer as a vital part of its inner workings? What if it really didn’t work out? What would happen then?

Would the whole team fall into chaos?

You didn’t want to break off your relationship with Spencer. But what if it did happen?

Your thoughts leak into your body language, your shoulders tense as you sit down and your eyes not quite focused on the papers on your desk.

It didn’t help that Spencer sat directly opposite you either. It was like the world was trying to rub your conflict in your face every time you saw his hair in your peripheral vision.

You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, but you knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was one of the faults in his character, and yours you suppose, because even if he did ask you what was wrong you’d probably blow him off anyway.

The tension between the two of you was enough for Emily and Morgan to share a glance across the bullpen to each other, although they didn’t have enough time to corner you into asking what was actually going on as Hotch called the team into the conference room.

The silent feud between the two of you continued into the meeting, sitting on opposite ends of the table like you were two negative magnets being forced away from each other by an insurmountable pressure.

It was a little silly you think, to be so removed from each other after a single argument, but when Spencer put his foot down about something, he held his ground under any circumstance.

And so the two of you were destined to lie in a stalemate, sat seething in silent frustration with each other until one of you eventually caved under the pressure.

It wasn’t going to happen.

It was another fault of the two of you. You were both too damn stubborn for your own good, and it was beginning to affect your ability to work together.

You were supposed to be two sides of the same coin. Two gears intertwined and seamlessly rolling off of each other in perfect unison. Instead, you couldn’t even decide on the importance of a half-burned diary found at the scene of the last scene you’d arrived at, the fourth building set ablaze in Fallon in the last five days.

“This guy is clearly dealing with marital struggles, that could be our trigger,”

Of course he had marital struggles, because you couldn’t escape your own issues even when you were two-thousand miles across the country.

“We don’t even know if that diary belongs to our unsub,” You sigh exasperatedly as you slump back in your chair.

“It was a grocery store. Who brings a diary to a grocery store unless it’s something extremely important to them? It has to belong to our unsub.”

“Spencer-”

“You know that I’m more likely to be right about this,”

You can’t help but scoff at his statement, discarding your coffee mug on the round table and causing small brown droplets to coat the surface of the wood from the force. “You’re really pulling the intelligence card? Seriously?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Spencer shrugs his shoulders with a furrowed expression. “My intelligence is what got me here and it’s telling me that this diary belongs to our unsub,”

“And my experience is telling me that you’re fixating on this goddamn diary instead of looking for things that could be actually useful to finding this guy because you want to feel sorry for yourself by living through his struggles.” You gesture exasperatedly to the book in his hands, becoming increasingly frustrated with Spencer’s attitude towards you.

He might be smart, but you had almost half a decade on him in terms of experience. He had zero right to speak to you like that mid-feud or not.

“You’re angry at me, I get it. Don’t let it cloud your judgement.” You push yourself up from the table with a scowl, leaving your chair pushed out as you exit the station with the door slamming shut behind you.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Morgan furrows his eyebrows as you approach the house, clearly run-down and looking as though no-one had lived in it in several years.

“I’m sure,” Spencer gave a determined nod as he un-holstered his gun, following the team into the house to sweep it for the suspect.

Despite your argument about the importance of the diary, Spencer had continues to fixate on it completely, leading to a partial name that Garcia had managed to identify and ultimately the house you were now running into.

You feel under-appreciated sometimes. Hotch always ended up going with Spencer’s choices, experience didn’t matter. It was like he had a tattoo across his forehead that read ‘I’m always right’ and everyone else took it as law.

But you’re not going to disobey direct orders, even if you did want to throw all of Spencer’s favourite books into a filled bathtub and watch him mourn over the ruined pages.

“Clear!”

You sweep the house room by room, you, Hotch, and Emily in charge of the ground floor whilst Morgan and Spencer went upstairs.

It was a complete ghost house. There was no electricity, no running water, smashed windows and moulded wallpaper, the furniture looked decades old and above all it just smelled horrific, a mix of leaking waste pipes and faulty gas lines. Were you seriously supposed to believe someone was living here?

“All clear up here,” Morgan emerged at the top of the stairwell with a shrug. “We got nothing,”

“Of course we don’t,” You mutter the words to yourself with a roll of your eyes, silently confirming your own victory at the obvious lack of human presence in the house Spencer was so sure belonged to the unsub.

“Alright, regroup outside,” Hotch called up to the two, gaining a nod from Morgan as he went to retrieve Spencer and bring him down as you exited the building.

“Nothing?” JJ tilted her head slightly as the three of you emerged, met with Emily shaking her head with a slightly awkward expression as she met your gaze.

“Nope, gross, but nothing,”

“Gross is right, it smelled like shit in there-” You clear your throat into your elbow like you’d managed to infest your lungs from the smell.

“Where’s Spence and Morgan?” You shrug your shoulders at JJ’s question heading back to the SUV to grab a bottle of water.

“Knowing Reid he’ll be over-analysing something,” Emily chuckles slightly, patting JJ on the shoulder as she follows you past her. “Morgan’ll get bored soon enough,”

“Are we going or what?” You call out from where you’re leaning against the car, water bottle being waved around in your hand as you gesture your impatience.

“Morgan and Reid are-” Emily stops as she spots Morgan walking out of the front door. “—Reid is still inside,”

“Of course he is,” You grumble to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s refusing to leave until he’s found something,” Morgan shrugs as he reaches Hotch’s side. “He’s adamant that there’s something to be found in there,”

“God seriously?” You groan out your words as you rejoin the group. “It’s an abandoned shit hole, there’s nothing to be found—”

A loud crash from the house interrupts your complaint.

Loud crashes are never good.

Neither is the bright orange flicker of light you can see through the front door. Definitely not when you’re working an arson case and Spencer Reid is still inside the house.

It’s like all the hours of you pondering how best to make Spencer suffer for his actions completely disappear as soon as the flames are in sight.

You couldn’t be angry at Spencer if he was dead.

The way the wooden beams of the door frame collapsed under the heat really cemented that thought in your mind.

“Spencer—”

Your attempt at running inside is promptly stopped by an outstretched arm that collides against your waist, winding you slightly and causing your expression to turn from fear to anger at the person who’d interrupted your attempt to vacate Spencer from the building.

“What are you doing?!” You push Morgan’s arm away from you harshly as you attempt to bypass him, but you don’t even get two steps forward before his arm is again blocking you from running into the burning building. “Get off me!”

“You can’t just run into a fire-” You continue to struggle against Morgan’s grip as he pleads his case to you, causing his voice to strain from the exertion of trying to keep you in one place.

“Morgan if you don’t let me go right now I swear to god-” Morgan withstands your threats with his strength, and you’re becoming increasingly resentful at just how much effort he’d gone through to stay physically fit.

“The fire department are on their way-” JJ’s voice is soaked in concern as she speaks, both hands clenched tightly around her phone as she stares into the open door of the house and the yellow-orange light that is quickly enveloping anything visible inside it. “They’re four minutes out,”

“Four minutes isn’t fast enough-”

“Hey-” Morgan continues to struggle against your writhing, planting both of his hands firmly against your shoulders and shaking them slightly in attempt to get your attention. “He’s going to be fine.” The uncertainty in his gaze tells you the opposite.

By the time you hear the sirens of fire engines rounding the street-corner, you don’t have the mental energy to feel relieved. All you can do is stare into the raging inferno that encapsulates the entire ground floor of the house and pray desperately that it didn’t manage to climb up the stairs. You know you’re being too optimistic.

You barely compute the obvious when a stretcher is prepared in front of the entrance, only coming to when you hear a worried gasp emanate from Emily at your side as Spencer is laid down on it after being recovered from the house’s master bedroom, very clearly unconscious and less clearly still breathing.

“Breathing is shallow, pulse is weak, we need to get him on oxygen,” The EMTs converse between themselves as they rush the stretcher into the fire ambulance, leaving you and your team to stand idly on the sidelines as both the fire and Spencer are taken care of by the firefighters on the scene.

You pace the waiting room on your heels, the sharp contact of your feet on the marbled floor leaving small shock waves to shoot up your legs as you walk. You couldn’t just sit down, you weren’t going to relax in a chair whilst the love of your life was possibly dying of asphyxiation. You were worried, terrified, and you had to release that nervous energy somehow.

If Spencer was here right now you’re sure he’d reprimand you for your nervous habit, rattling on about how heel-striking is dangerous for the health of your legs as it compresses your entire weight into a single point that can have bad impacts on your bones. Thinking about it just makes you feel worse, making you pace more and ultimately creating a self-fulfilling cycle where the more you thought about what he’d say the worse your actions would get.

At least you were actually in the hospital waiting and not back in the station waiting for a call. God knows you’d be more of a burden to the rest of the team than a help right now.

“Visitors for��� Spencer Reid?” The nurse checks the clipboard in her hands as she speaks, and the second you hear the first syllable of his name you’re diverting your pacing to walk straight up to the nurse’s side.

“He’s awake but dreary, and he’s refusing any medication to help with the pain in his esophagus,” The nurse explains his conditions to you as she leads you down the hallway, shrugging her shoulders slightly at the mention of his refusal of pain medication.

“He can’t take narcotics, do you have any substitutes? NSAIDs?”

The nurse nods slightly at your explanation, checking her clipboard once more as she stops you at a wooden door. “I’ll have a look and see what I can find,”

“Thank you,” You give her a small nod and a smile as she leaves you at the door, suddenly even more nervous than you were in the waiting room. Not only was Spencer now in recovery for smoke inhalation and minor burns, the last ‘conversation’ the two of you had was an argument. A stupid, petty argument because you were both stubborn assholes who couldn’t agree to disagree on anything.

What if he didn’t want to see you? You were probably the last person he wanted at his bedside right now after everything that’d happened. Maybe you shouldn’t go in and see him.

Your hand is already opening the door. Okay, well, too late to second guess things now.

“Hey Spencer…” Your voice is barely a whisper as you enter the room, door shutting seamlessly behind you as you walk towards his hospital bed, fingers ringing together as a work around to release all of the nervous tension in your body without bursting into tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate a campfire-”

His words are enough to break the small tension between you, and you laugh softly in a mix of relief and worry. At least he was alright enough to be able to speak properly. The burn on his arm looked pretty bad though.

“You look like you ate a campfire,” You approach his hospital bed slowly, taking a seat on the plastic chair at his side and gazing over him with an entirely pitiful look in your eyes.

“I’m okay…” It was like he could read your mind, then again your sure that most people would be able to see how distraught you were right now, but Spencer was always the first to notice, and he languishly reached his hand out to rest against your knee.

You started crying the minute his fingers made contact with your slacks.

“I’m so sorry-” It felt a little silly to be crying in front of someone who’d just been trapped in a burning building and was probably experiencing an insane amount of pain from the lack of medication, but emotions don’t always follow logical boundaries. “I’ve been so- horrible to you and you didn’t deserve it at all-”

You’re sure you look like an absolute mess by now, tears staining your cheeks from your crying, a blotchy complexion from your stress, wrinkled clothes and ruined hair from constantly messing with them to try and find a release for all of your anxiety, but the way Spencer looks at you would have you assuming you’d stepped right off a runway.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,”

“But-”

“Nothing.” Spencer shakes his head to the best of his ability as he shuts down your rebuttal, and he shifts his hand upwards to lie over your two hands clasped in your lap. “I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you into something that you’re not ready for, that was my fault, and for that I’m the one who needs to be saying sorry,”

“No I get it-”

“I made you uncomfortable and upset and that was never my intention,” Spencer continues to cut off your attempts to speak, something he’d usually rather die than do to you - or anyone for that matter - but deemed a necessity to stop you from lumping all of the blame on yourself when you had done nothing more than establish a boundary. A boundary that Spencer didn’t respect.

“I love you, and I want to spend every waking hour I have in your presence, I want to sleep with you in my arms and wake with you by my side. I want to experience every up and down with you and keep you safe and loved at every instance,” Spencer gives your hand a small squeeze as he looks at you, your reflection in his eyes one of pure beauty and perfection. “I didn’t do that for you in our last disagreement, and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me to make up for that moving forward,”

Spencer’s fingers ghost over the back of your hand, pressing small circles into the dips between your fingers and gently massaging your skin. “I want to do nothing more than love you, and a piece of paper and a pair of rings won’t change that either way.”

You swear that you melt with every word that leaves the boy’s mouth, and if he wasn’t currently hospital bound you’d smother his face in kisses until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

In respect for his condition you turn you affections to his hand instead, holding it up to your face and pressing deft kisses against the curve of each of his knuckles, silent tears still sliding down your cheeks. Tears of a different trajectory this time, filled no longer with guilt and frustration and instead replaced with the realisation of just how much you mean to Spencer Reid.

“I love you so much,” Your lips brush the back of his hand as you speak, his fingers dampening with the lingering moisture of your tears as you hold his hand like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. “So much.”

The smile that breaks out on Spencer’s face could cure any ailment in your mind within seconds. “I love you too,”

[bibuckaroo]

i need to talk about this because this is very important to me:

yes, khun is down bad for bam and we KNOW that, but we need to start appreciating the fact that bam is down bad for him too and he’s just as embarrassing about it, like, this is not one sided, guys. the only difference is that bam always has a lot of shit going on, while khun always only deals with bam related problems.

but examples of bam being down bad:

• always singles khun out in a group, he’s the first person he sees and unless someone else interacts with him, he continues to only focus on khun, to the point that endorsi herself talks about this more than once, because she’s jealous that bam isn’t paying attention to her.

• while bam doesn’t like seeing any of his friends hurt, he usually doesn’t stop them from joining fights if they insist on it, he’ll just do his best to protect them. but here’s the thing: if he can help it, he doesn’t even let khun join a fight in a physical way and when khun looks like he’s going to leave his post in his lighthouse, bam explicitly tells him not to do that because it’s too dangerous, because to him khun belongs in the safety of his lighthouses, strategizing and protecting their friends.

• at the end of the day, the person bam is going to open to will always be khun. this is explicitly made aware when he bids both endorsi and yuri good night (two people who are his close friends and he’s known for years, and could’ve open up to at anytime) because they said they were going to rest, but when khun tried to do the same, he stopped him and asked if he could speak to him about the master key. very important!!! bam also wants to be the person khun opens up to, but every time he manages to ask him something personal, they get interrupted (looking at you, endorsi).

• bam actually stated it himself that khun ‘is his most precious friend’ when talking about why he was protecting ran, in terms of him being khun’s brother. enough said about it, khun is already on a whole other level to anybody else, and how insane it is that he’s willing to lay down his life for ran because he knows it would upset khun if anything happened to him?

• RACHEL HERSELF POINTED OUT THAT KHUN IS BAM’S PRIORITY!!! when she asked bam why he was giving her a fair chance in terms of getting the thorn fragment, literally her first assumption was because she had saved khun’s life.

• i also feel that is important to point out that while bam may not want khun in the direct line of danger, there is no one he trusts more than khun, because he knows that at the end of the day he can take care of himself, he just wishes he wasn’t put into a position where he had to. like in the sweetfish situation, he had a choice of where to go and he chose to go to hoaquin because he knew khun was with the sweetfish and he trusted khun to have a plan, even though he was worried.

• lastly, i need to mention this because i have never seen nobody talk about that: bam tries to hold on to the image of himself from the test floor in his interactions with khun a lot. after his time as jue viole grace, every time we see him interacting with other characters we see him serious and determined but rarely smiling, even with his old friends, but with khun i noticed a lot of instances that he does the closed eyed smile to reassure that everything was fine and while a part of me wants to believe that the only reason this happens is because khun just brings out this side of him, i also believe that is because (at least in a subconscious level) he believes that is the version of himself khun grew to care for (since we know bam segregates his personality, since his sworn enemy is the version of himself that is jue viole grace) and if he’s not that version anymore, will khun still care for him? (welp, this just got really angsty).

to end all of this: basically, i feel like we talk a lot about khun and his obsession with bam (affectionate) but we don’t talk enough about bam’s with him because his moments are always more subtle and usually get lost in everything else that’s happening on bam’s life.

and i noticed that we, in the khunbam fandom, tend to be able to read khun better (he truly is easier to read) than bam, but now this post makes me want to do a character study on bam.

[poundstonaira]

Mascara - Albert Wesker x F!Reader

A/N - There is one scene thats a bit ... uncomfortable (?) but for the sake of my trauma and others, I was NOT going to write a non-con scene. Absolutely not. There's is barely any smut in this because I believe storytelling can be good without smut. It's not everyday sex ngl.

CW: Obsessed Wesker, Stalking, minor dubcon intercourse scene, Cat and Mouse vibes, Dry Humping, Gun Violence, Age Gap, Kidnapping, Wesker being an Asshole, Captain and Lieutenant, Wesker is bad at feelings, bad story with HEA.

Song Inspiration: Mascara - Deftones

Word Count: 10,639

Summary: Captain Albert Wesker of STARS is obsessed with his Lieutenant. He feels as if soon, he'll sink into her. What does she think of that?

1. LONG, SHADY EYES

“Lieutenant, have you seen how weird the Captain has been acting?” Your fellow teammate, Jill told you while you guys were hanging out at the front office of the police station, drinking your hot chocolate after a quick mission. It was early December, which means it was snowing heavily, and everyone needed a quick hot refreshment after saving the citizens of Racoon City.

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow, not knowing what Jill meant as you stared into her light blue eyes in confusion. 

“I don’t know… but something is off about him…” She said, twirling her cup of hot chocolate in her hand, her look stern.

Recently, Captain Albert Wesker has been more tired-looking than usual. It must’ve been either the endless hours of paperwork, the amount of calls to the police department for them to summon the members of STARS to handle some of the toughest crimes in the city, or the reports of countless women going missing after leaving a club late at night. Or, could it have been something else? 

It was dark outside, and the snow from the sky was falling down relentlessly. It was brutal out there, which is why barely anyone came in to work today. From STARS, it was only Captain Wesker, Jill, Chris, Rebecca, and you.

“Like what?” You asked the short-haired brunette, taking a sip of your sweet hot chocolate, savoring the delightful taste. 

“I think…” Jill paused, appearing that she was thinking hard about her answer into the realms of daze before she spoke again. “It has something to do with you. ” 

Your heart moved down a bit, but it didn’t drop to your stomach… yet. You were good at your job, you were flexible when it came to hand-to-hand combat, intelligent when it came to planning solutions in tight situations, strong when it came to holding your own, wise when it came to everything else, and overall so stunning. 

“ Me ?” You pointed at yourself, looking around to see if JIll got you confused with anybody else, ignoring the distant footsteps coming closer from the stairs. “I literally have been doing all of his commands without question and I’ve been doing them flawlessly. Why the hell would he have a problem with me?” You scoffed, a little scared but irritated. 

“Lieutenant, the Captain wants to see you in his office.” Chris spoke in a worried tone, coming down from the stairs. 

Oh? 

Now your heart really dropped to your stomach. That’s not good. 

“Did he state why?” You questioned Chris, taking another sip of your drink.

Captain Wesker is not the one to call people to his office for anything, really; only if they have been slacking on the job or actual imperative reasons. This must be serious. 

You might just be in for one hell a night. 

“No… He just said that you should come and that it’s urgent. ” 

In unison, you and Jill both flashed each other a look that included wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Urgent? 

“Oh…” You muttered, your heart dropping once more. 

“Should we wait for you?” Chris asked, standing next to Jill. You nervously sipped down the rest of your hot chocolate before you shook your head and threw the cup at the nearby bin, already walking up the stairs towards what could be your doom. 

“No… you guys should get going before the blizzard gets worse.” You implied, waving at them while still walking up the stairs. 

“Are you sure?”  Chris insisted. 

“Yes. Don’t worry. I doubt it's anything serious. The Captain is probably just in one of his moods. I’ll be fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, hoping this little meeting with the Captain isn’t anything too serious. 

…

“Come in.” You didn’t even have to knock before you heard Wesker’s voice from the other side of the door. You opened the door to see your Captain automatically staring at you. In the dimly lit room, you feel his presence before you see him. As you enter, he occupies the chair with a predatory ease, his frame sprawling, arms confidently resting on each side. The lamplight casts shadows on his angular features, accentuating the intensity in his cold-blue eyes fixed on you.

“Hello, Captain.” You greeted him quietly, your usual, calm persona already leaving you as soon as you felt his aura. It was chilling for some reason. Very strange. 

You closed the door behind you for more privacy as you stood by it, not wanting to move away from said door because of how nervous you were at this moment. 

That was your first mistake: closing the door. 

“Hello there, Lieutenant.” He greeted you back. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Wesker asked you with a grin, eyeing the chair opposite his desk. 

He seems so eager to talk to me, this is a little strange. You thought, needing some space from Wesker. 

“I don’t want to-” You attempted to protest, waving your hand but his voice caught you off-guard.

“It was a command, Lieutenant.” Wesker’s grunt voice and his intense, chilling blue-eye stare filled your body with chills and the small hairs on your arms and the back of your neck rose. Did you really do something wrong?

Your gentle persistence faltered as you slowly took the seat in front of your Captain, both pairs of eyes still focused on one another as his pair of cool blue eyes made you a little queasy. You had to look away or else you would’ve started to physically shake. Your gentle, feminine eyes started to wander around his office. It was quite dim– very dim, actually. The only things that were giving it light were the two lamps by either side of his desk. There was the S.T.A.R.S insignia embedded into the wall behind him, and the walls painted, stained with an ugly shade of blue, to you.

You started to speak up after the moment of silence. “Chris told me that it was urgent for me to talk to you…” You spoke, fingers from your left hand playing with the chrysanthemum tattoo on your right hand.  “Is there something wrong?” You asked, still not giving your captain eye contact, instead, giving your visual attention to the tattoo of your favorite flower on your hand.

“You’re really good at your job, Lieutenant.”  You look up at him, raising an eyebrow at his statement. It wasn’t that you were insecure or anything, matter of fact, you knew you were good at your job. You were the Lieutenant of S.T.A.R.S Alpha team for crying out loud. Why is he telling you such an obvious fact? 

“I know I am. Thank you.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“No need to get cocky, dearheart .” Wesker smirked, his voice low and grunt. 

Oh. That’s different. Dearheart? You wanted to mentally ignore that last word, but it stuck with you.

“Is that why you called me here today? To compliment me?” You ask him, tilting your head to the side, giving Wesker a tired look. If he really wanted to praise you for your work, Albert Wesker should be on his hands and knees before your feet, thanking you for your existence, cherishing you with a raise and all the gifts you’ve wanted in life. Instead, he’s just front sitting you, staring at you in the most creepy, gnarly, and uncomfortable way ever. 

“You're a very useful asset to the team. I was looking through your data and reports and I couldn’t help but be impressed by you.” He praised you. 

“So… what else? That’s it?” You ask him, rolling your eyes at his words. 

“What’s the rush, my dear ?” He questioned you, pale, wintry cold, blue eyes boring into your siren ones which were laced with mascara on the eyelashes. He leaned in over the desk, making you slowly move back.

“You’re doing nothing but complimenting me, I thought you called me to your office for something actually important-” You tried to get a point but he cut you off. 

“ You are important, Lieutenant. Which is why I wanted to see you, and only you .” 

At this point, you’re convinced this is an imposter, not your Captain. Your brain cannot wrap around this new behavior at all. All you know is that your guard needs to be up.

“Where are you going with this, Captain? Are you drunk?” You ask him, annoyance and small fear tinted across your voice. 

That was your second mistake; asking that question.  

“Tch. How bold of you to ask me that blunt question.” He scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Well excuse me for my rudeness but I am very tired and I want to go home, and you’re wasting my time.” You stood up from the seat, walking towards the door, you heard Wesker sigh but thought nothing much of it. You were irritated because you actually thought you did something wrong, but no, your Captain is in a peculiar mood today and that’s pretty much it. (It seems like.)

Before your hand could even touch the doorknob, you felt a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Your heart wasted no time dropping to the pits of your stomach. Slowly, you slightly turn your head around to see Wesker’s eyes staring right into your soul, again. This time, you feel a sense of fear arising on your body as he looks a little tense. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Lieutenant ?” His voice this time low, laced with dangerous venom from the bottom of his throat. This time, your body felt on edge, feeling weak everywhere and even light-headed.

“H-Home...” You stuttered, this time looking down at where his hand held you on your waist, where your other chrysanthemum tattoo was. You lay your right hand on his to see how hard he was gripping you and oh , his grip was secure and tight. 

“I don’t remember saying that I dismissed you. Why are you so eager to leave?” He whispered into your ear, that transatlantic accent sending shivers down your spine and his cold breath blew onto your neck.

You bit your lip, trying to hold your breath because of how scared you were. There is nothing worse than feeling the looming doom of something bad happening to you, and you don’t have much control over it. “...” You need to talk, you need to speak up. “Because… I want to go home.” You blurted out. It wasn’t a lie. 

A chuckle with malicious intent just left Wesker’s mouth as his grip on you tightened, even from behind, you flinched as he rubbed himself against your behind, letting out a deep groan. 

“You can’t go just yet, my dear. I haven't finished enjoying my time with you.” He then said, his other hand slithering under your long-sleeve uniform shirt and onto one of your breasts. 

“Let me go, Captain...” Your voice cracked and tears were on the verge of spilling onto your eyes, you were shaking, terrified with no one to help you but yourself. It was only Chris, Jill, Wesker and you in the office when you were downstairs but because you told your two colleagues to leave, you only have yourself to use to defend yourself.

“No…” Wesker whispered again, letting out a little laugh as he could hear the fear in your voice. He squeezed your breast, making you gasp. “I don’t think I will.” The blond male responded slyly, pushing himself roughly against your backside again. He was hard. 

“H-Huh?” You muttered. You were sweating, shaking, crying, trying to wiggle out of this tightly, evil grasp but it didn’t work. Wesker was too strong, too evil, too good.  

“Kiss me, Lieutenant.” He spoke, leaning into the side of your neck and giving it one long lick. You visibly gagged as you felt the cold saliva on your neck. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command. 

“Fuck no!” You screamed, finally growing the courage to turn around, elbow him and slap him in the face. He let out an angry groan as he held his face with his hand, he wasn’t bleeding, but he was bruised. 

That was your third mistake; slapping him.

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, Lieutenant .” He laughed at you from where he was standing, looking at you again. This time he stared at you, licking his lips as he eyed that voluptuous body of yours. You cursed to yourself, looking back at the door, and then back to Wesker.

This was your chance. You had to run out of here. And so you did, not turning back once as you ran full throttle to your office, grabbing your stuff and out of the station. 

Damn, it was cold outside. 

Luckily, you parked right at the parking lot since there weren’t many people in today due to the heavy snow. Panting with fear, you turned on your car, got inside, turned on the engine and quickly moved out of the station.

2. I'M ALL ABOUT HER SHADE TONIGHT

It was the next day and you were not sure what was real and what was false. All you know is that you did not want to go into work today. That was for sure. 

But, you can’t have it your way. Missing work without a prior notice is very dangerous at the Racoon City Police office. 

You were currently sitting in front of your vanity. Your hair was a mess, lips bruised from you biting them, your eyes were tinted with red , and you had dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night, trying to listen for signs of intruders… or your captain waiting to kidnap you. You did not like this, at all, whatsoever. 

Your tired eyes move toward the handgun that lays in front of you. It was a Colt 1851 Navy Revolver that was given to you from your father as a gift for making into S.T.A.R.S . From all your years of working at the station, you never would have thought that you might have to use it on your colleagues, let alone Captain Wesker for crying out loud. Who knew he was such a scum of a man?

Yesterday night was something you still couldn’t wrap your head around; Captain Albert Wesker assaulted you. 

Those words don’t even make any sense. Your captain, who is always wearing those dark sunglasses even when the scene is more dark than midnight with no lights in the street, who is always serious and time for absolutely nobody’s bullshit, who is always picking on Chris for even the slightest of mistakes, who is always serious about his job and the safety of the citizens… sexually assaulted you. It doesn’t matter how many times you rapidly blink, or how much water you drink, or how many hours you stay up, because that is exactly what happened. 

And there is no way to justify that. Your superior took advantage of you.

At the same time you could try telling Jill and Chris what happened but, what can they even do? That’ll just cause more chaos and you’ll still have to face Wesker in the end. 

Do you even have a way to confront the son of a bitch? Probably not. But, you’ll never let him get away with this scott-free, that’s for sure. 

“I need to do something about this…” a mutter came out of your mouth as you eye the wooden handled six shooter on your vanity.  “ before I don’t even belong to myself anymore. ” 

Or, do you just ignore him like he doesn’t exist? That can probably work but it is still you too who close the station down when the day ends… and the stow refuses to stop falling.

“No…” You look at the revolver again. I won’t do anything just yet, not until he strikes first. I’ll just ignore him for now. 

…

You slowly make your way to the STARS Station once again, the snow still falling down.

Can I really do this? Can I ignore him?

You find the snow is starting to fall harder, and the wind begins to pick up.

It seems like the weather does not want to help me either.

You see yourself approaching the doors of the STARS station, and then walking inside.

I have to do this.

You see Wesker standing just at the top of the staircase, even with his stupid shades on, you can still feel his predatory gaze targeting you. Your heart automatically drops to your stomach without failure. 

"Hey, Lieutenant." He waves with a smile on his face. 

You feel like a million thoughts are going through your mind, your mind racing.

I have to ignore him. Be normal. Don't show him anything is wrong.

You take off your Ushanka and shake your head so your hair isn’t flat, so your hair can look free and full of life. Luckily, Chris blocks Wesker out of your vision by standing right in front of you. "Snowy day, isn't it, Lieutenant?" Chris says to you.

You shake your head as you see Chris greet you, and say the same thing to him.

Be normal.

You try to just do your work, as if nothing ever happened.

As the morning progresses, you see Wesker a few times, but you ignore him. You're glad to see that he hasn't approached you or said a word to you yet.

Is he going to let it all slide? Forget about it?

Seeing him has made my heart drop to my stomach multiple times... and it looks like I'm gonna have to stay here overtime again. You think to yourself, and you look at your surroundings carefully, biting your lip. 

You see Wesker a few more times throughout the day, and you feel your heart sink a little with each and every time you see him.

That bastard. Is he going to do anything to me today? Am I just going to have to try to avoid him today as well?

As afternoon sets in, you see Wesker a few more times. Yet, he has yet to approach you or say anything.

Am I safe…? Did he just let this whole thing slide already? Why? Was he just having fun with me?

I don't think I'm safe but I just need to keep ignoring him... I'm only gonna be here until 8:30PM today.

You continue to see Wesker throughout your shift. He's clearly aware that you're also there and seeing him. Yet for some reason, he does not approach you. Nor does he say anything.

Why? Is he just playing with me? Is he just planning something more sinister and twisted when I leave?

You keep doing your work, trying to ignore his very visible presence in the same room as you.

Don't look at him, don't say anything to him, don't even smell him.

As the work day continues, you continue to ignore Wesker. You do all of this, thinking the whole time that...

Maybe he just plans to try and force himself onto me again sometime later after work?

That's it. That's what he's doing. He'll just try it again, only this time he will be better prepared to hide it from the other members of the STARS Alpha team.

Tssk... Shit. What should I do?

That's when you finally see Wesker approaching you now, his eyes still on you.

This is it...

He's going to do something right now.

You feel a rush of anxiety now rush through you, and your heart begins to pound in your chest. He's going to do it again.

I'm screwed... fuck.

Wesker is now standing in front of you, his eyes still locked onto you.

He's going to force himself onto me again. I just know it.

How the hell do I get out of this?!

You turn your head to look at him in fear. Your body is already shaking. You don’t even have your gun on you. You left it in your office. What should I do? No. What CAN I do?

Wesker sees your reaction, and a small smile begins to creep across his face.

He knew this would work. He's not even trying to hide it.

He reaches his hand out, and before you can even say or do anything. Wesker is holding you in a tight grip.

Oh no... oh no... oh no…

Wesker begins to slowly move you off from the desks you both were working at and away from the team.

No one is seeing what's happening... They just think we're working together.

They think nothing is happening right now...

Wesker begins to slowly move you towards one of the closed meeting rooms. He's going to force himself onto you right now and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

Someone… please… help me. 

No one is seeing this happening and Wesker continues to hold your small frame in his tight grip. As he pushes you towards the closed meeting room, he begins to force the door open.

He pushes the door open and forces you inside now, his grip still not loosening.

As you begin to hear the noise of the snow outside again, you see Wesker close the door and lock it.

Oh god... oh god... oh god...

Wesker looks at you now, his face getting closer to you.

Now what...? What's he going to do?

You’re still breathing heavily, shaking, feeling all so uneasy. 

“...” You don’t say anything, but you just stare at him. Wesker leans in now, his lips getting closer to your ear.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

“...” You still can’t talk. 

Wesker's voice now whispers into your ear.

"Did you miss me...Lieutenant?"

He's talking to me as if nothing even happened. He's acting as if what he did was no big deal, as if nothing even happened. My god... is this what it's going to be like?... Just acting like nothing happened?

“W-what?” You manage to stutter in silent anger and confusion. Wesker slowly leans even closer now, his hands now still gripping you.

"Did you miss me..." He whispers into your ear again.

My god... I don't know what to say... I don't know what to do…

"I missed hearing your little voice..." Wesker whispers again, his hand now slowly going up your back.

"Captain... s-stop this..." You attempt to try and speak up again, but of course he isn’t going to listen to you. 

Wesker's grip on you remains firm.

"I’m not going to stop." He taunted you. Wesker's hand now continues to slowly move up your back, his fingers moving to the nape of your neck.

“That’s a good girl…” He chuckled near your ear.

It is then that a loud smack is heard as you slap him across the face with your right hand. Wesker, caught off guard by the hit, lets go of you. Without looking back, you quickly run to the door and unlock it. 

“Agh! You bitch!” He groaned loudly. 

The door opens now, and you rush out. You see Wesker is looking at you with a look of both shock and rage.

I need to run to my office and hide there, locking my office is a must!

You ran, evidently, you sprinted, not caring how loud your footsteps were as you basically flew down the hallway. With your Captain being more fit, more stronger, and faster than you, of course he was right on your tail . You rush into your office, feeling a sense of relief once its door is shut and locked. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest now.

Oh no... oh no... oh no...

You see Wesker try the doorknob, but the door does not open. He pounds on it, and asks you to open it. You didn’t plan this through, so you’re trapped. Wesker continues to bang on the door.

"Open the goddamn door, Lieutenant."

His voice now sounds furious.

He's been caught off guard by a single hit, and so now he's going to be more cruel.

"..." You don't answer him... You’re frantically looking around your office to see if there is anything you can use to further defend yourself.

Wesker's banging on the door is loud and terrifying.

Do not let him in... you must not let him in. Just don't make any noise. You look around your office, not seeing anything you could use to defend yourself. The door to your office can only keep him out so long… He will eventually break this door open.

Wait... My revolver…

You see your revolver, which you normally keep hidden, sitting in your desk. Could that actually help you ? It's the only thing that could possibly help you. If you could surprise attack him with it, maybe that would work. Wesker is still banging on the door now, his voice still furious.

"Lieutenant! Open the goddamn door now!" Wesker bellowed, banging on with what seemed like most of his strength. You can see the door caving in and out with every bang. 

You grab the revolver out of the drawer, and you open the ammo... there is only one bullet that remains but it is not next to be shot. 

Maybe if I can catch him off guard...

Your hand is shaking, your mind racing...

One single bullet. Do I just try shooting him with this?

You keep listening at the door as Wesker continues banging on it.

There's no way he will let this slide.

Wesker then begins to say something to you.

"Lieutenant... I already told you, I’m not going to stop."

My god... he's still acting as if nothing happened. He's not going to let this go.

You slide down on the wall that the door is on. You’re shaking, you’re crying, you’re even sweating while the weather is freezing cold outside. It’s getting too much for you now. Why can’t you have just one single moment of peace? Why is it that you have to be the victim of power abuse and male obsession?

"..." You start sobbing so loud even Wesker can probably hear it. You hear Wesker laughing on the other side of the door. Your tears are flowing down your face now.

Of course he would enjoy this...

You are trapped in this office. You can't get out. The doors remain locked.

Wesker continues to bang on the door, his voice sounding as if it's taunting you now.

"Look at you, Lieutenant. Crying like a little girl." He continues laughing from the bottom of his throat, as if he just won a game or something. It jabs your heart, it makes you feel so restless and your heart just can’t stop dropping to your stomach. It’s so unfair , it’s so asinine , and it is just so fucking jarring . 

What is with him...?!

His words hurt because they just don't make sense. Am I not allowed to cry? I am not allowed to be upset and angry?

 You’re still sobbing loudly, your left hand trying to wipe all of your tears and your right hand is holding the revolver on the ground.

Wesker continues banging on the door, and you hear him say something again.

"You know, you sounded really pretty when I forced myself onto you before. But now that I know how scared you can be..." He sounds sadistic now. He sounds as if he takes pleasure in knowing you're afraid of him.

"You know... I might just try and do that again after I get in here." Wesker says that last part in a dark, malicious tone, then letting out a low chuckle. 

You scream. And you scream loudly, before going silent and taking a moment of silence to look at the revolver that you now held with both hands. 

Wait... what if I shoot...

You feel your mind racing and racing, your heart beating with fear.

What if I shoot... what if I shoot? Will he be gone?

Your hand is shaking badly now, the revolver firmly in both of your hands.

Is this the only way? There has to be another way!

Wesker is still banging and laughing.

"Hey... Lieutenant?"

“...” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Wesker is still banging, trying to get the door open. 

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant!? I know you’re still in there.” 

"So... you know what?... I'll make you a deal, Lieutenant."

His voice sounds both cruel and sadistic.

What kind of a deal... What kind of a deal will he make?

“...” You stay silent. What deal?

"How about..." Wesker's voice now takes on a more casual tone.

"If you open that door for me right now... I'll just pretend like nothing even happened. We'll just pretend like nothing ever happened between us, and forget your little slap."

That's ridiculous. No way. No way is he willing to just forget.

"Open that door, Lieutenant..." He asks with a cruel, yet casual tone.

What should I do? Is this just him lying to me?

"..." You refuse to listen to him, You will not answer him. You will shoot him.

"You know... your silence only makes it worse for you..." Wesker starts laughing again as he hears your silence. He's still banging on the door. "Lieutenant... you're not making this any easier for yourself." Your hand is still shaking, you keep the revolver firmly in your hands.

It's so heavy, your hand is shaking so much.

"I'll give you... let's say... five more seconds before I really do something bad to you ."

Five seconds? What an evil prick he is. Now, you need to hide. Wesker continues to bang on the door and laugh.

"Lieutenant. Four..... three...... and two."

You run over and try to hide as best as you can in your office, keeping the revolver firmly in both of your hands.

He won't be able to find me that easily... I'll still have time to surprise attack him with this revolver when he comes running in. Yeah.. that's it. That's my plan. I don’t want to kill him though. 

Wesker keeps banging on the door. 

"One..." He says, his voice still casual and as if nothing happened.

Is he actually going to break that door down now? Why is he making this so difficult for me... why isn't he just going to leave me?

You have the revolver in both of your hands now, feeling it become even heavier somehow than it was before. There's only one bullet... don't miss. You mustn't miss it.

What does he even want from me? 

Wesker laughs again, still banging on the door as a smile takes over his face.

"Oh, Lieutenant... you're making this so tough for yourself. All you had to do was not slap me and everything would have been fine." You feel frozen in place, the door banging and his words getting to you.

My god... I have one chance... and one chance alone. After he breaks that door in, there's nothing more I can do. But I wasn't gonna let him have his way with me... no way in hell.

Wesker's words keep banging against your psyche as his banging on the door continues.

"Fine. I’ll be nice. One minute... one minute is all I'm giving you now, dearhear t."

You can feel your hand sweating now as the revolver feels as though it's a hundred pounds.

I have one minute before he comes in here to force himself onto me again. One minute to get the aim of my revolver perfect… If I don’t aim this right then I’m fucked.

Wesker continues to laugh outside and bang on the door.

"Thirty seconds, Lieutenant."He sounds so smug.

 God... why isn't he just going away? Is he really not going to give up until he gets me again? I have to keep calm.

You listen closely now, hearing that even Wesker's breathing is getting louder now and more rapid.

"Open that door, Lieutenant. Open the goddamn door!" Wesker yells now at the top of his lungs.

He's now waiting for you to comply. He's not going to wait for long.

I’m not opening the door. I refuse.

Wesker stops yelling. You think for a few seconds, he might try and break the door down.

"Fine..." Wesker's voice sounds quiet now, and you feel yourself getting more hopeful.

He's going to give up.

"If you won't open that door for me... then I guess I'll just have to open it myself."

He can't be serious... not the actual door.

Your hope and relief fade within a few seconds.

Oh no... he's going to do it... he's going to break it down.

Wesker's voice gets louder again as you hear him walk right up to the door.

"Three... two... one."

You hear your heart immediately racing at a quick pace.

This is it. Now or never. There's no more time left.

"Fine, I'm coming in." Wesker laughs, and you hear him begin to use his shoulder to bang on the door a couple times. This is it. Your chance.

Wesker starts using his foot now to break the door down. He's putting his body weight into breaking that door down.

I have to do it.

Your hand is shaking uncontrollably now, the gun feeling like it is going to slip out of your hands.

Come on... any second now. You’re still shaking, but you're managing to keep your breath under control. Wesker is still kicking the door... your breath is getting shallow...

I can't miss... I can't miss.

Wesker continues to kick the door.

I have to remember my training... I have to keep my aim steady and fire at him...

Wesker kicks the door one last time, and it sounds like it is about to snap.

This is it.

Your hand is shaking like it's going crazy, your breath almost not coming now. You see the door begin to shake and get close to falling. You point the revolver at the door, trying to steady your hand as best as you can. Wesker's entire focus is on the door, trying to break that door down.

God, I can't miss. Do not miss.

And with one final, ruthless kick to your door, it was down. Wesker was now staring down at you, already moving towards your direction.

Bang. 

3. WELL, IT'S TOO BAD

Captain Wesker’s body fell backwards and fell to the ground of your office floor with a loud thump. Immediately, you screamed loud enough to the point where the whole city could hear you. That didn’t really make a difference, though. Same as yesterday, there was no one in the office, just Wesker and you. This time, only one of you is standing.

And the other may be dead.

“Oh my God… Oh my God! I shot him…” To say that you were panicking was an understatement. Your gun dropped to the ground, your hands in your head, eyes wide open with tears spilling out, your mouth was dry and your heart felt like it was trying to leave your body again .

“...”

Is he dead!? Shit! I can’t just leave him like this… But at the same time… You didn’t really know what to do,  you can call the ER but you would probably get arrested since it’s so obvious that you’re the one that shot him down, just look at the little spots of blood on your face and shirt. Or, you can just run away and go home like this never happened. 

Which one will benefit you the most in this predicament? 

I have to go…  

You didn’t have much time to think before one of your colleagues went to check what scream of yours was all about. The thing is, they already left, and there are no cameras in this area of the hall. How cliche. You decided to put on your coat and your Ushanka and run to your car, deciding to never look back. 

Self-preservation is the most important thing to worry about right now. You did what you had to do to defend yourself. Or else…

You kept looking behind you to see if Albert was already on his way to hunt you down, again. He wasn’t there, so you took the advantage and drove out of the station, again . This time it was life or death. 

You still cannot process what has just happened to you in the last 24 hours. 

…

It was the next day,  Friday. Exactly 24 hours since you left the station. You were in your bed all day. Not even a shower and consuming a single meal helped the fear that you were feeling. It was creepy like the devil hanging out on your shoulder. You felt so uneasy you wanted to scream, but you were too scared to do so. Too scared that someone might hear your… or know what you did yesterday night. Staying in your bed and under the covers was way better than leaving your apartment complex.  

Although it is your personal sanctuary, there was just something enticing about how comfortable your room was. 

Suddenly, your phone rings on your night stand, you reach out your arm to grab it and see the contact who was calling you. It was Jill. Hesitantly, you answer it and put the phone next to your ear. 

“Hello?”  You mumbled, eyes closed as you held the phone next to your ear. 

“Hey, _/_…”  Jill said, she sounded more quiet than usual, saying your first name with a little more caution.

She called me by actual name this time…

“Is everything okay at the office?” You asked, considering how you were out of the office because of yesterday night's events. At the same time, your stomach felt like it was twisted around your ribcage, you were so scared that she would mention him after yesterday night’s events.

“Yes. Everything is absolutely fine. I was just checking in because you weren’t today.” Jill spoke casually.

Oh thank God. 

“Sorry I wasn’t in today, I got sick from the blizzard last night, and plus, I am just really tired.” You groaned, your stomach untwisting from your ribcage in the process. 

“I see. When do you plan on coming back? I can write down your sick days if it makes it easier for you.” She said,  

“Probably next Wednesday. When the snow is calming down.” You responded.

“Okay. That seems fine…” she responded back. There was then a long pause. It was unsettling, it made your heart drop to your stomach a little bit. What is she thinking about?

“Is there something wrong, Jill?” You asked out of anxiety. 

“There’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to warn you to stay safe.” 

“…” This time, you were the one to give a long silence back. Now you were on edge. You were in your house, your sanctuary. What did she mean by “stay safe”?

“We got a new case today, regarding  a woman getting assaulted and attacked. I know you’re my Lieutenant and you know how to defend yourself, but I still want to make sure you’re okay in your current condition.” Jill then explained, sighing shortly after.

“Thank you, Jill. Make sure you watch your back as well. In case you get in some danger, don’t forget the training we did together and the skills I showed you.” You mumbled, not feeling relaxed at all.

“Pffft. I won’t. Anyways, take care of yourself, Lieutenant _/_.”  

“You too, Jill.” 

You ended the call, then got up to look outside your window. The street and pavement was still blanketed in thick white snow. You loved this weather because for some reason it made you feel so safe today, and relaxed, like there wasn’t danger running rampant in this strange world, as if you didn’t shoot your captain yesterday, as if you don’t know if he is currently lurking in the shadows.

Of course he’s lurking. Why didn’t Jill mention the bloody scene at your office, or the absence of Captain Wesker?  Jill goes into your office usually to collect some snacks and other documents that you keep around and she didn’t mention the blood stained floor.  Not only that, what gives it away was that a new case was given to S.T.A.R.S Alpha team and only the Captain can command the team to investigate the cases, and your team received a new case today regarding people going missing.

Oh, he’s definitely lurking, and after this shift is done? He’s all about your shade tonight.

It makes you laugh. For some odd reason, you weren’t that scared anymore. Sure, your Captain attempted to violate you in his office, which causes you to shoot him the next day is very terrifying, but what is more terrifying (from what you’re gathering)  is that he’s still alive, and he’s walking around as if nothing happened. 

What a dedicated stalker. That man is so funny but so persistent. 

“Wesker doesn’t know when to give up, doesn’t he?” You let out a chuckle, smiling to yourself about the realisation of how scary your current predicament really is. You weren’t smiling and laughing to yourself because you were happy, that wasn’t the case at all. It was because you were absolutely petrified. “I’ll let him have his way tonight but, after that, I need to end him quickly. ” You finished talking to yourself, still staring out at the window, awaiting the horrors that will eventually come to life tonight.

…

And, those horrors wasted no time showing up at your front doorstep. Your blood went cold as you saw your Captain open the front with a makeshift key. You were standing in the middle of the hallway with your gun in your right hand. Wesker was dressed up in his uniform, sans the black vest that he wears while he’s on duty. The blue-eyed monster then bellowed a loud laugh once he laid his cold, unforgiving, crystal blue eyes on your smaller frame, it made you shiver in fear.  

“You’re so cruel, my dear…” He sighed, automatically walked over to you, encasing you in his arms. You couldn’t back away because you were still perplexed as he was still walking around as if you didn’t shoot him right in the stomach. 

“What…” You mumbled quietly, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip. It was uncomfortable, intruding and claustrophobic. It wasn't comforting at all, it felt as if someone was trapping you in a jail cell. 

“How dare you…” Albert started, now slowly snaking  his arms to your backside. Your breath hitched. “How dare you shoot me in your own office and then run away? I had to clean up after your mess.” He questioned you with a pout. Evidently he was mocking you. 

“How are you not dead… I shot you clean in the stomach.” It’s either you said something wrong or it was the look on your face; your pupils were dilated, the colour drained from your face, and your breathing was heavier than before. You were panicking, the reality of the whole situation was dawning on you but you can’t be scared now. You need to face it head strong. 

“You shot me, but you didn’t kill me, my love.” Wesker explained. 

But it doesn’t make any sense… I shot him in the stomach, he should still be in pain, not only that but he shouldn’t even be walking… What the hell? Is he even human? The next time I have the chance, I need this man dead. Expeditiously. 

“With that being said,” You were suddenly lifted off of your feet, and your body was on Wesker’s shoulder, and the both of you were on the way out of the door and to his car. “I’m finally going to have my way with you, dearheart.” Wesker chuckled, using his right hand to slap your ass.

“Let hell you will!” You gasped, trying your best wriggling off of his arm, but to no avail. No matter how much you kicked your legs up and down or tried to use your arms to release yourself off his grip, his strong, muscular arm kept you right in place on his shoulder. You were just wasting your energy at this point. “I won’t let you ruin my life. I’ve worked too hard for you to do this to me!” You screamed.

“So persistent,” Wesker groaned, you heard the sound of a car door opening and in no time you were thrown in the backseat of Wesker’s car, he pulled you closer to the door and pulls out a rope, then he ties the rope around your body, making sure you cannot use any of your limbs. “You need to be patient my dear, the fun hasn’t begun just yet. You’re lucky I’m not taping that sexy mouth of yours, I love hearing how scared you are.” 

“...” You sighed out of exhaustion and you threw yourself down to the seat below you, having no further energy to fight back. 

“Now you’re not talking? Don’t do that, sweetheart. You’ll be screaming my name very soon. I’m afraid I’ll fuck you so hard that your whole entire neighborhood will hear you, which is why were going somewhere private.” The blond older male opened the driver’s door and sat down, turning on the car.

“In your wildest dreams , you sick bastard.” You chided. 

Now, while he drives you to wherever the hell is he taking you, this is the time to figure out how you’re actually going to kill this man. 

And this time, he won’t return. 

4. IT'S TOO BAD... IT'S TOO BAD...

After calculating every twist and turn the car has made, and counting the minutes of how far Wesker has taken you away from your home, you finally feel the car stop. You feel the car power off and hear Wesker leave his seat and go to the back to get you out. You yelped, his strong, lean arms wasted no time pulling your smaller body out of the backseat with no trouble through the ropes. 

‘We must be at his house then…’ 

He’s carrying you bridal style, knowing you can’t properly move with the ropes tied around your body. Wesker doesn’t have his signature, dark, goofy sunglasses on, so even in the somber night, those cold, sky blue eyes are still so visible you could’ve sworn that they were glowing. It was terrifying. And what is even more terrifying is that his eyes were focused on you, more specifically your own pair of eyes as if he was trying to read directly into your soul.

Although your stalker– captain was purely a wicked man from what you’ve seen yesterday night and tonight, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t handsome or fine to say the least. There was just something about how sharp his jaw was, or how nicely straight his nose was, or how the tips of his ivory-colored skin would turn cherry at the slightest of any rough action, or how perfect his teeth were, or how crowning his golden blond his slick back hair was.

Albert Wesker without a doubt was impeccable. How beautifully diabolical.

There was silence between the two of you. The type of silence that would lead to a later suggestive scene that would happen in a dark romance movie. But why would that happen? That wouldn’t even make sense, not after what Wesker did to you yesterday and the day before that. Your own captain assaulted you and now you feel some sort of sexual attraction to him? That doesn’t make sense.

He was still carrying you in his arms as he opened his front door and closed it behind him, locking it. You were tired and all of the lights were off so your vision was blurry. With every step that Wesker took to his bedroom you felt your stomach twist and turn in the most uncomfortable way ever. It was not a fun feeling. At the same time, it was a little exciting. Oh?

Being trapped in ropes while being taken to someone’s bedroom isn’t the best situation to be in.

Wesker gently places you onto his bed and immediately starts gently removing the rope off of your body. It is finally all undone when he starts eyeing with a more hungry look than before. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this…”  Again, his voice was low before he  let out a heavy sigh. Wesker’s eyes are squinted in seriousness and his pale, ivory cheeks are now tinted with a rose flush. Your captain starts to unbutton his shirt slowly while his eyes are still maintained on you. And for some odd reason, butterflies start to grow in your stomach.

“What the hell are you talking about…” You slowed down your words as your eyes wandered down to his crotch. It was obvious he was hard. You could see a huge bulge sticking out from his black pants. It was like it was itching to be released from the cloth it was being restricted by. Damn.

Wesker lets out a chuckle. “Don’t act stupid, my dear. I was planning to go easy on you until you shot me,” There was only the last button of his shirt left. You could see how defined his chest was, even though you could only see the middle of it. You always knew that your captain was lean and he worked out basically everyday but, you didn’t know you could see it even through just a sneak peak. “Which means I have to capture you now before you attempt to try and get rid of me again. I can’t let that happen when I didn’t even get the chance to kiss you…” He finished, the last button finally undone. Through the undone blue shirt, his gunshot wound that was done, courtesy of you, was still there. You didn’t get to see it fully before Wesker leaned into you, straddling your legs wide open, you could feel yourself getting wet just at the sight of him. 

‘Why am I getting so… aroused by this? This doesn’t make any sense. ’ Your inner thoughts are fuzzy and are getting mixed with the feeling of your body shivering from a peculiar cold. It was snowing outside but, you’re inside, so why are you suddenly cold? And shivering? That’s strange.  

You’re then snapped back to reality by your legs being snapped open. You winced at the sudden action and pain. 

“Stay still.” Wesker basically drooled over you, eyeing your erect nipples and innocently confused face by his actions.  His hands held down your plush thighs with such natural strength that you couldn’t even move under his grasp. “You look absolutely idiosyncratic.” He muttered. 

The innocent face that he was eyeing was gone as you sneered at him and his pervertness. “Fucking pervert.” You groaned, still mad that he’s made you horny by his forceful will. 

“Do you finally surrender?” Albert gloated, his blue eyes narrowed at you like a predator finally about to feast on its prey. You weren’t going to that to yourself and say that you were not intimidated. He was stronger than you, faster than you, even smarter than you. The chances of you winning this unfair game was even less than another  planet other than Earth successfully managing to survive the natural causes of the universe throwing everything at it. You weren’t going to win this, at this point you were only hoping that he wasn’t going to kill you. 

“Well I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You said with pure stoicness in your voice, blinking at him twice. At your words, you’re blue-eyed monster of a Captain chuckled lowly, flashing a blinding white smile at your hint at defeat. 

“You could always fight back. Or, shoot me… again.”

Oh… He is terrible.  He pulls the right side of his shirt to reveal his body. It was like he was a Greek god sculpted by an Italian artist. His abs were a sculpted masterpiece, chiseled and defined beneath the taut surface of his skin. The lines of his abdomen led the eye on a journey of admiration, from the prominent V-shaped cut of his lower abs to the symmetrical rows of his upper abs. Your eyes were gazed on them, stuck to them like a magnet. It was like your pupils were getting bigger just to praise how wonderfully built this man was.  

Not to mention the very noticeable and fresh gunshot wound, courtesy of you, that made it obvious that it existed and that you put that there. It made Albert’s image even worse, even more… hot. 

How were you going to fight back? Did you even want to fight him back at this point? You weren’t going to answer the question yourself, instead, Albert Wesker was going to answer it for you.

…

You were lost. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been, all you knew was that your Captain was on top of you, inside of you. His hands on your arms, sans of all your clothing. Repeatedly slamming his cock inside of you. 

And you just had your head laid on the plush pillow and took it. You don’t know why, but you just did, It felt… too familiar, too good, too amazing, it's like you had sex with this man before, but you just don’t know where. The way he fucked you had you screaming, moaning, whimpering in so much pleasure that you no longer shame about your current situation no more about fighting him back. It made no sense at all, but you no longer cared since you were under the curse of such ecstasy.  

It was disrespectful the way he used his tongue on you earlier. The way he used his long, wet, tongue to have you try and scream aloud. In the end, you did end up screaming his name. It was so unnatural and unfitting in the moment but then again, you did not care. 

It was strange. You still hadn’t reached your orgasm yet. He hadn’t either.

  It was like an infinite loop. 

…

You were back to your senses and you realized that you need to get out of here.  Now. 

You were scrambling to find your shorts and long sleeve shirt, to put them back on and to try and find help. The clock was ticking. 

‘Come on come on… where did he throw my clothes?! ’ You were frantically crawling on his bedroom floor absolutely naked as he slept peacefully, you looked crazy but nobody was watching. You were also surprised that he didn’t wake up at the sound of you trying to find the clothes he took so gently off your body. It felt like ten minutes but in ten seconds you felt the familiar clothing you were wearing earlier. ‘Found them!��

Trying to make the least noise possible, you put on the clothes while you were still on the cold, wooden floor. Then, you heard the bed creak. Shit.   

“Now where do you think you’re going?” You heard his voice. Your heart drops. There isn’t enough time to think of an escape plan at this point. Your only hope of getting out of here was to gun him down or break a window. “Did I say you could get away from me?” 

“...” While you were still on the ground, you stayed silent out of fear, your body feeling weak. You were even too scared to move. But you had to get up, or else it would’ve been game over for you.

‘Shit… I can’t walk properly.’ 

‘Where is this fucker’s gun!?’ You thought to yourself as you quickly rose to your feet, eyes scanning the room rapidly as your messy hair was in your face.

“Not saying anything? Don’t tell me you’re still scared…” Wesker sighed, getting up from the bed as he was completely naked. Trying to ignore him from getting up, you look behind you to see his samurai edge on his desk.

‘His gun! It’s on the desk…’ You run to grab it and then turn back around to face him, staring at him dead in the eye, ignoring his sexually distracting body. 

“Stay… away… from me… you have done enough damage.” You panted as your body shook violently, holding the gun up at Wesker. All he did was smirk at you in amusement, you wouldn’t even dare to bat your eyes down to see his appendage rising the sound of your fear. 

Wesker took another step towards you. “I don’t think I’ve done enough damage…” 

Bang. 

5. YOU'RE MARRIED... TO ME

As your eyes snapped wide open, your body was automatically in a cold sweat. The bedroom was freezing cold, which made sense because it was still snowing outside. Huh. 

‘What the fuck?’ You mentally thought to yourself, your eyes traveled around the room rapidly, still trying to get a sense of what you just went through. It was dark outside, the only thing that was light was the snow that was falling down violently, with the occasional gusts of wind accompanying it. Your head felt so light, you thought your head was going to fall back on the pillow below you. 

The surroundings are different and nothing about the bedroom is the same, neither from yours nor his. Could this be reality?

You look to your left to see someone sleeping next to you. It was so dark that you couldn’t make out who it was at first, and you weren’t going to turn on the lamp on your nightstand just so you could see who it was. It would be an eyesore for the man next to you.  

The man who was sleeping so peacefully next to you had blond hair, sharp cheekbones, and thin lips that if they were to touch yours, his mouth could drive you crazy with them. 

‘Oh.’ Your heart froze while your stomach twisted with both of your intestines. It then sunk into you on what was actually happening. 

In an instant, you slowly took the covers off of you and quietly but quickly walked to the bathroom that was inside your shared bedroom. You opened the door and closed it behind you, flicking the light on. You then proceed to carefully study yourself, touching each one of your features, ,from your eyes, your eyebrows, your nose, your lips, the shape of your face, to your neck, your chest, your torso– your tattoos– but you couldn’t find any tattoos, not even the one you saw on your hand. You had no tattoos. None, whatsoever.

That caused you to let out a sigh of relief. 

None of that was real. Nothing of all of that at all was real. 

‘So that was all a dream… Albert– my husband trying to sexually assault me and hunting me down was all a dream… All of that was never real… ’

It makes no sense on how realistically weird it was. Yes, you and your husband did work at the S.T.A.R.S in the RPD and he was the Captain while you were the Lieutenant but… that wasn’t even how you two fell in love.

It was instant love for Wesker. He hired you when he saw you practicing some karate moves at your old martial arts school while he was patrolling the streets of Racoon. He was impressed by your skill. And at the age of 24, you were hired to work at STARS in the Alpha team. Albert was 32 at the time. It’s been two years since then, and now, you two are married. Strange how fast time flies. 

But knowing Albert, even though the man is strict and serious ninety-nine percent of the time, he would never chase you down and defile you against your will. That is something inane and asinine. 

This was all making your mouth dry. You stared at yourself for a few more moments before adjusting your dark blue button-up pajama shirt, turning off the bathroom light, and leaving the room all together, still making sure Albert was sleeping. For such a hard working man, he was surprisingly a heavy sleeper, barely waking up to loud-ass thunderstorms. 

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself a nice glass of cold water. Gulping down that ice-cold water made you relax more, calming down your brain that was still a little perplexed at the weird-ass dream you just had. You didn’t even dream that often, and when you did, your dreams were never that weird. Could you even call that a dream? Was it scary enough to call it a nightmare? Actually–yes, it was. Having a dream of your husband stalking you down and violating you is terrifying. 

Downright frightening. 

Now it was time to try and sleep again, hoping, praying that you don’t have any weird nightmares like that again. 

You went back to your shared room, closing the door and locking it. You crawled back into bed, put the covers over you, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, you felt a hand wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. You flinched at the sudden movement. 

“Dearheart?” You heard your husband’s deep, throaty, and tired voice from behind you as you turned around to face him, his eyes were open and you could see the familiar arctic blue eyes that you loved so much.

“My love, you’re awake.” You pointed out and smiled at him. 

“Only because I didn’t feel you by my side.” Albert leaned in to kiss you on your lips, to which you kissed him back. 

‘There he goes again with his words.’

“Come on, I only left for five minutes, it wasn’t like I left the house or anything.” You told him, sighing at his clinginess. 

“You left me all alone while I was sleeping for five minutes, it felt uncomfortable.” 

“Well, I’m here now. Jeez, you’re such a child.” You quietly laughed at him. 

“Is everything okay, my dear?” Albert asked you. You paused for a split moment, trying to think of an answer. Here’s the thing, you could tell him the truth about the nightmare you had but that would cause chaos, and all you wanted to do was sleep, so you avoided that trouble.

“Yes… I just felt a little thirsty.” You lied, feeling a bit guilty about not telling your husband about that nightmare you had. It’s just that you did not want him to worry about you, and he gets all protective, even at the tiniest things. He raised an eyebrow at your answer and looked at the window behind you. 

“Thirsty? It’s freezing cold outside and you’re thirsty?” He’s skeptical. 

“Albert, you’re shirtless.” You retorted, using your hand to trace his stomach and chest. You felt how nice his body looked, it was exactly the same, but sans the gunshot wounds that you gave to him. He was all lean muscle, no signs of any painful, inflicted injuries on him anywhere. He felt nice and warm against your cold body. Very comforting.  

“And your hands are cold.” Albert shivered, against your touch, learning a small laugh from you. Slowly, you placed yourself on top of him, laying your head against his neck and your legs wrapped around his torso. This felt fine, absolutely fine. He wasn’t chasing you down the hallway, or forcing you to open your office door so he could do terrible things to you. He wrapped his arms around you, and embraced you. This was okay, this was absolutely okay. 

“Well, maybe you can warm me up.” You said against his skin, nuzzling into him.

“Of course I will, my dear wife.” He responded and you felt his smile on your skin. 

You laid on him for a few moments, enjoying your husbands warmth, feeling so safe.

“Hey, Albert?” 

“Yes, dearheart?” 

“Would you ever hurt me?” 

“Never.”

But, Albert Wesker wouldn’t actually do that to you. Would he?

[idkwhatever580]

Where Did You Learn That?!

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Prompt: It’s a casual day when Tony brings the team to a new area to show them something. And Y/n surprises everyone.

Warnings:cursing, sexual innuendos, stripper pole usage (don’t worry there’s clothes), degradation, praise?

Pronouns: unspecified

A/N: I saw this video on tt and I immediately had to do this drabble . Lmk if you want a smutty pt. 2

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

Y/n’s pov

It’s everyone’s off day in the compound so we’re all just chilling out. I’m laying down in between nat’s legs on our designated couch in the living room.

She’s playing absentmindedly with my hair while everyone does their own thing.

Wanda is playing with Peter and America on the switch.

Thor is chowing down on poptarts.

Yelena is eating Mac and cheese while cringing and gagging about Kate’s latest boyfriend. Saying how “she doesn’t know how anybody would ever want to do something like that” and Kate obviously banters back with “says the aro ace person”

I smile at their friendship. And then I look at Bucky and Steve, Sam is helping them catch up on the greatest movies of all time.

Well everyone is taking part in that, but it’s Sam’s turn. I obviously made them watch every single Barbie movie when it was my turn. Especially the newest one. God Margo Robbie is so good. And of course Natasha made them watch all the Bond movies.

Anyways. We’re all just having a chill day.

Until Friday starts talking

“I have been instructed to inform everyone that Mr. Stark has something he’d like to show you. In the west wing.”

I frown and say outwardly to anyone who will answer

“I thought the west wing was under construction?”

Thor shrugs his shoulders and says

“I guess not anymore. Let’s go look!”

We all make our way over there and along the way Clint, Carol, and Vision join us.

We walk into the west wing to find a big ass room.

Tony is standing in the middle and says

“Welcome to the new party central!”

The lights go up a bit but not a lot. Just enough to see that there are multiple stripper poles, bars, and party amenities scattered around.

I raise my eyebrows and everyone either groans or cheers a bit. I don’t say anything I just walk up to Tony and point at the pole in the middle of the whole area. I whisper

“Is that one currently spinning? Or stationary?”

He smirks and says

“That one is turning right now. Imagining a hot girl already?”

I shake my head and say

“Something like that”

Then walk up to the pole. I’m a few feet away from it and I look down and see my outfit. It’s a baby shirt and jeans. I might fall because I’m a bit rusty but who cares. I used to be amazing. It can’t have gotten that bad right?

I shrug my shoulders and go for it. I do my most remembered and most practiced routine from my stripper days. BEFORE I became Natasha’s girlfriend.

She doesn’t know about it either.

Watch this for what it looks like :))) ⬇️

I hop down from the pole and flip my hair back and look at the avengers who all have different looks on their faces

Wanda, Steve, Kate, Thor, and Peter all have their mouths wide open and they are blushing hard.

Clint and Vision are unimpressed, probably because one is a robot and one has a wife who is also my sister. (He is literally my brother in law. He’s not gonna be impressed when he knew what I used to do)

Yelena looks disgusted naturally.

Bucky, Carol, Tony, and Sam are impressed with my skills.

And Nat. I can’t determine what her look is right now. So walk to her and take another look at everyone as I rest my arms around her neck. She absentmindedly rests her hands on my hips. Everyone is still looking in awe so I say

“What? Like it’s hard?”

That snaps them out of it.

Peter, Kate, Yelena, and America all go to the poles to have fun on them. They’re just kids.

And the rest of them walk away or start talking.

Natasha though, grabs my hand and leads me to the corner far away from everyone.

She is about to say something but Wanda walks up to us and says

“Uh- that’s- um- that was really cool.”

She’s blushing so hard and I smile at her. She’s a cutie.

I smile and say

“Thank you Wands”

She smiles and walks away quickly.

I giggle at her flustered state and turn back to Natasha and say

“Was it good?”

She scoffs and says

“Good? Are you kidding me?”

She pauses long enough for me to cut in

“Are you mad? I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be mad if I did it in front of everyone. I know you like showing me off to everyone just to make them know who I belong to.”

I ramble a bit about her possessive tendencies with me. I also like feeling like a trophy wife sometimes.

She shakes her head and says

“No that was fucking hot. Why didn’t you tell me you used to do pole?”

I shrug my shoulders and say

“I guess it just never came up. We don’t usually talk about strippers you know?”

She nods her head and then says

“Well, I’m gonna need a few things from you from now on. Can you handle it?”

I nod my head and say

“I’m sure I can”

She smiles and kisses me and I pull away to say

“What are the things?”

She smirks and leans in to kiss my neck and says into my ear

“One- you’re gonna get fucked tonight. Two- I’m gonna need a personal show now. And three- I want at least one dance at every party. I want everyone to see what a good slut you are on the pole. Then I want them all to be sad that you’re all mine.”

I let out a shaky breath at her words. I think I get a high from feeling like a trophy wife. Only sometimes though.

I thread my hands through her messy, slightly wavy hair and pull her head back to look at me.

For some reason I get a kick of confidence and say

“I’ll do all of that for you. If I can do whatever I want with you tonight”

She raises her eyebrows at my sudden dominance but then smiles softly and says

“Whatever you want you say?”

I nod my head and say

“And you can’t say otherwise. Unless of course you are uncomfortable with it.”

She smirks and says

“I think I can handle that.”

She steps back and holds out her hand and says

“Do we have a deal?”

I nod my head and shake her hand like a business woman. And she then pulls my hand so that I get pulled up to her and she whispers against my lips

“Let’s start now. I have a feeling we have a long night ahead of us”

I nod my head and she drags me to the bedroom.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: this turned out a lot longer than I thought I would. And I know how I said I’d be taking a break but I couldn’t get this off of my mind. <3

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 9

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of pregnancy, not edited word count: 2.1k authors note: i am back with a little less brain!! (literally) it took me a bit to start writing again cause I had some slowness on my right side so I wasn't quite up to writing. BUT i hope you guys like p9 and thank you so much for the continuous love on this story <3 the first bit is marlee's POV and after the * it's back to readers pov. hope u all like & pls lmk what you think <3

masterlist masterpost ask box

MARLEE

Marlee Jones loved her job. It was something she took pride in; helping bring new lives into the world and being there for all the mamas. Of course there were always the hard days, the days that made her hug Stella a little tighter when she got home from a shift. Her job had its ups and downs, but at the end of the day, she wouldn’t want to do anything else. 

So, her panic is warranted when she comes across a certain patient file. She wasn’t looking for it, but when her eyes caught the name and there weren’t any other people nearby, she couldn’t help herself. It’s against HIPAA, and if anybody found out, she would be fired without question but she slipped the file in between a couple others and walked to a random supply closet. She closed and locked the door behind her before pulling the file out and opening it. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, the words Hysterical Pregnancy making her heart race. She had to double check the name on the file twice, before believing it. 

She knew that someone would notice the missing file, so she quickly found a printer and copied the pages, tucking them in her tote bag and putting the file exactly where it was. 

Nobody would know.

*

Your first instinct is to calm Marlee down. Her panicking is making you panic and at least one of you needs to keep a straight head. You’re trying to let her words sink in without letting your mind go down a rabbit hole. You need to see all the facts before letting yourself do that.

“Marlee,” you reach out to grab her shaking hands. “What happened?”

She looks up at you and takes a deep breath. “I can’t- I can’t tell you the details but she’s not pregnant. She lied, and it’s already caused so much damage between you, and Mat and Liana… and Nora.” She pulls her hands away from yours and buries her face in them.

You decide not to remind her that Mat already fucked things up before Calista dropped the baby bomb on him because she knows that. Focus on one disaster at a time. 

Calista lied about being pregnant. Mat doesn’t know this, and even if you try to tell him, you have no idea how he’ll react. Really, it’s none of your business and you can very well go on with your life because Mat has let you know loud and clear what his feelings are. He wants Calista in his life despite you not wanting her in Nora’s life. He technically has no rights, no say in what happens but when he first found out about her and asked to be in her life, you’d so desperately wanted to let him. 

“How long can she pull off this lie until he finds out the truth?” you ask quietly and she lifts her head from her hands.

“Depends,” she mumbles.

“On what?”

“How deep she has him pulled into her fantasy.”

. . .

You let Nora spend a little more time with Stella, mainly wanting her to burn as much energy from the sugar high she’s on from the ice-cream. She’s sleepy when you buckle her in her carseat and you’re pretty sure she’s asleep but she mumbles something and you look to see her looking at you with droopy eyes.

“What was that?” you ask softly.

She looks down, avoiding eye contact with you which is worrisome. 

“Do you think Mat would want to see me?” she whispers. “Without her?”

She obviously doesn’t need to clarify who she's referring to and it breaks your heart that a six-year-old has to worry about things like this. 

“I can ask,” you tell her, unsure why she wants to see him suddenly. “You don’t have to go see Mat if you don’t want to, baby.”

By now, you’re pulling into your driveway so you can turn the jeep off and turn to give her your full attention. She still won’t look at you so you reach out and tap on her leg until she looks up. 

“I want to,” she says but doesn’t elaborate so you don’t push. 

“Okay, I’ll call him tomorrow.”

She just nods and starts to unbuckle her seatbelt so you get out and help her. She doesn’t complain when you carry her inside, helping her change into pajamas and brush her teeth. When she asks if she can watch a movie before bed, you don’t have the heart to deny her, even though it’s close to her bedtime so you set her up on the couch and put her favorite movie on. She’ll be out like a light in less than twenty minutes so while you’re waiting, you grab your phone and pull up Mat’s contact. Your finger hovers over the call option but you’re not sure you want to talk to him over the phone so you go into your text messages instead. The last messages between the two of you were when you last met up and even then they were short and to the point which makes this text easily simple.

To Mat: Nora wants to see you.

You lay your phone on the counter and get a glass of water while waiting for his response. You’re unnecessarily nervous, mainly because you are expecting him to start an argument the moment you tell him that Nora doesn’t want Calista to be there. You don’t even feel comfortable letting Mat see her because of what he said, but you can’t turn her request down. Not when she was so adamant about not wanting to see him, and out of the blue deciding that she does. 

When you check on Nora while waiting for a response, she’s asleep so you pick her up and carry her to bed. You spend a minute just watching her after you’ve tucked her in. You’re desperate to see what’s going on in that little head of hers.

Just as you walk back to the kitchen, your phone buzzes and you freeze. Maybe messaging Mat tonight was a bad idea, and you should’ve just waited until tomorrow. It’s too late now though so you walk over and look to see Mat’s name and an unread message. 

From Mat: ok

From Mat: when?

It bothers you, how nonchalant he’s acting after everything that’s happened. This is about Nora though, so you take a breath and try to decide on a date.

To Mat: Sunday?

From Mat: ok

You want to scream at him and take back the offer but remind yourself again that Nora explicitly asked to see him and it’s her decision to make. 

So, you set up a place and time and tell him that she doesn’t want to see Calista. You expect him to argue, but he responds with another simple ok, and that’s that. 

. . .

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marlee asks, crossing her arms and glaring at Mat who’s sitting on a bench at the park you agreed to meet at. The two of you are standing outside her jeep, stalling a little before going over there. 

Nora asked if Stella could come to the park too and Marlee was pulling out of her driveway before you could finish asking. You’re a little worried that she’s going to yell at Mat, but you figure with the kids there, she will contain herself unless he says something out of line.

“Nora asked to see him,” you remind her but she just grumbles something under her breath. 

You’re ready to get this over with so you open the door and let Nora and Stella climb out of the jeep. Normally, they would race to the playground but Nora is hesitating, glancing over to where Mat is. He hasn’t noticed that you’re here yet which is good, because you are about five seconds away from just putting the kids back in and driving away. 

Nora sighs quietly before walking over to Mat. You and Marlee hang back a little but Stella grabs her hand and sticks close to her. 

When Mat sees her, his face lights up and for a second, you want to forgive him so everything can go back to how it was before. You can’t though, not when what he said is still so fresh and not when you know about Calista’s lies.

“Hey peanut,” he says softly, staying seated while Nora stands in front of him, looking down and scuffing her shoe on the gravel. He looks at you when she doesn’t say anything but you just shrug even though you’re confused. You’re about to ask Nora if she wants to just go to the playground when she breaks her silence.

“Are you not my daddy?” she asks quietly and it takes you off guard. You had this conversation with her, assuring her that Calista was lying but she must want to hear it from Mat.

“What?” he asks, looking at you before turning his attention back to her.

“Calista told me that you’re not my daddy,” she says more firmly, finally looking up at him. Her arms are crossed and she’s glaring at him. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so worried about what Mat may say.

His mouth opens and closes a couple times and he looks like a fish out of water. He looks at you again, as if he’s expecting you to step in but you just raise an eyebrow at him as if to say I told you so.

“I think she was confused-” he begins to say which is absolutely the wrong thing to say because it sets Nora off. 

She stomps her foot and her glare hardens. “No! She said that mommy lied and that you’re not really my daddy. She told me that I don’t have a daddy.”

Before he can say anything, she’s storming off toward the playground, Stella chasing after her. 

“Do I need to say I told you so?” you ask sharply, now that the kids are out of hearing range.

“You just did,” he mumbles and Marlee, who has been quiet up until now, steps towards Mat.

“You’re a piece of work,” she snaps and Mat looks at her confused. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do I need to repeat myself?” she says, and you’re more than happy to let her say what’s on her mind. 

“You’re letting your girlfriend tell your daughter that you’re not her father, and instead of comforting Nora, you’re trying to defend your girlfriend!” 

For a moment, you’re scared Marlee is going to get angry enough that she’ll tell him the truth about Calista, but she takes a deep breath and turns away to go to where the girls are playing. You watch her walk over until she reaches them before turning back to Mat. 

He’s staring at the ground and you don’t know why you’re still standing here but you guess you’re just waiting for Mat to say something.

“I fucked up,” he eventually mumbles and you scoff. 

“When did you come to that brilliant conclusion?” 

There’s the tiniest part of you that wants to bring up Calista, just to see if he’ll tell you anything but you’re not sure you’re in the mood to hear about her. Not when you know the truth. 

“Liana is mad at me,” he tells you, which is news, because you thought she was just angry at you. 

“I can’t imagine why.”

You look back at Nora, smiling when you see her laughing. She looks more like herself, rather than the gloomy kid she’s been the past couple days since she asked to see Mat. Like she got what was bothering her off her tiny shoulders. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mat doing the same but his smile isn’t as real. If you weren’t still angry at him, you’d feel bad but you can’t let go of what he said and the fact that he tried again to defend Calista. 

“She’s a good kid,” he says softly and you hum in agreement. 

“Did you know?” he asks, “that she was going to say that?”

“No,” you tell him. It’s not a lie - she didn’t tell you why she wanted to see Mat, and you didn’t want to push. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head and look directly at him.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix it this time. Marlee was right, instead of apologizing to Nora, who deserves to hear that more than me, you won��t stop making excuses for Calista,” you tell him. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from Nora and I, but sorry isn’t the answer.” 

He frowns, but nods, seemingly accepting your response. You leave it at that and walk over to where Nora, Stella, and Marlee are, grinning when your daughter reaches for you. She hugs you when you pick her up and when you look back at the bench Mat was sitting at, he’s already gone.

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[luvtak]

jealousy, jealousy, skz

✧ pairing 0t8 x gn!reader

✧ genre/tw fluff!!! disgusting beautiful fluff, the tiniest smidgeon of angst… jealousy (obvs), just boys being cute and whiny lol

✧ w/c 2262 (around 250 each)

✧ a/n literally stayed up all night writing this lmao, hope you like it <333

Chan: So jealous immediately. I think he feels a lot of ownership over the people he loves, not in a weird toxic way, more like ‘these are my people and I'm going to love and protect them’ way, so when anybody looks or speaks to you in flirty ways, he gets uncomfortable really fast. Tries so hard not to make it noticeable or jeopardize your good mood, but is actually so upset about the situation it’s hard to hide. His body language changes right away, all of his easy posture and quick laughs disappear and all that’s left is little smiles and taut muscles. It has less to do with someone thinking his s/o is pretty and more to do with not knowing if the person is dangerous or not, and worrying for your physical and emotional safety–last thing he wants is for you to be hurt in any way, and having someone blatantly look at you reminds him that truly anything can happen :( I don’t think he could be jealous of the Kids at all, they’re literally his children like what are they gonna do? Thinks it's so cute when they hug you or ask for help with something, and wants more than anything for you to get along, so he’s only happy when you do. Only tells you he was jealous when you’re alone laying in bed at night, talking about anything and everything and admitting to be upset about the whole experience. Genuinely so confused when you tell him you know, and never learns that he is so obvious with his emotions–whether positive or negative.

Minho: Honestly, I don’t think he really does get jealous… He seems so secure to me that I feel like it wouldn’t even cross his mind to get upset, actually likes it a little–you’re beautiful and you’re his and he’s proud of that. Except for if it’s one of the other boys, then suddenly very annoyed and possessive haha. Not that he thinks any of them would actually do anything with you, but I think it just hits closer to home–like they could. He is a little mean about it at first, but it quickly becomes sulking, like a child not getting enough attention. His hold on your thigh gets tighter and his fingers wound with yours start pressing in more so it hurts a little, I can see him spacing out a little too–inwardly thinking about all the reasons the person thinks what they’re doing is alright. Most of the time, the boys aren’t doing anything, but something specific they do or say triggers the jealousy and won’t go away. He’s a boy who won’t come clean right away (even though you know exactly what’s happening), instead he waits till you go to bed to press himself on top of you and whine about how rude it was that they were flirting with you (they were not). Needs endless validation and physical reminders of your love for him before he goes back to being himself. Always acts like it didn’t happen in the morning and will laugh at you for thinking it was possible he could have felt that way, while having admitted to it 9 hours before. 

Changbin: Very, very cute about his jealousy. Would never mention that it bothers him, wouldn’t point out someone’s stares or ask you to change anything about yourself to garner less attention. Is so proud of his little baby being so pretty they get noticed, but that doesn’t take away the fact that people shouldn’t come up to you. His jealousy would be so specific, he wouldn’t really care if it was just stares or people checking you out, but as soon as someone tries to make a move he is seething. Stares them up and down and looks so intimidating that even you are a little shocked, keeps this attitude until you leave and then needs to be coddled and loved until he will be back to normal. Loves how close to the boys you are but hates how that means he has to share you, he loves being the only one to know special things about you and gets grumpy so quick when he realizes other people know things too. Becomes so, so, so clingy when he’s jealous–hands never leaving your skin, not even for a second. His a million kisses a day becomes two million and he will be stitched to your side. Needs at least a two week recovery period where he is babied and taken care of before he can get over the silly feelings and remember how in love you are. Will not admit to it ever, it could be years in the future and he’d still say you didn’t know what you were talking about. Tries to act so tough, but is really just the sweetest boy to ever exist. 

Hyunjin: Gets jealous over silly things and will make it your problem; most of the times it's just a joke, something to get you to fawn all over him and kiss him a dozen times. But because of this, it’s hard to tell when he really is jealous, characterized by melodrama and many questions asking if you’ve ever thought about not being with him come out after someone shoots their shot with you and fails. He is such a romantic that his s/o not being as fully in as he is would be something that would really worry him. Most of the time he can see how in love you are and recognize how strong your relationship is, but as soon as there is someone getting in the way of that it would be hard for him to ignore. I can’t see him getting too jealous over the boys, but would improvise drama level monologues of jealousy if he sees you sitting a little close to one of them on the sofa. One of the only boys where I think he would try to make it up to you, while the others may need comfort from their s/o, I think Hyunjin would feel guilty for second-guessing your relationship even if it was a completely normal emotion he felt toward it. Gives slow kisses and soft sorry’s for hours before he can listen to you tell him why you’re not mad. Loves so hard and so well that jealousy is such a malignant feeling to him, that he would try to separate himself and your relationship from it as soon as he could. 

Han: Truly his worst nightmare. He would be such a cozy, sweet, domestic partner that it would probably be pretty rare to go out somewhere instead of staying in, and his mood would be demolished so fast if someone was looking at you or hitting on you in any way. Overthinking and anxiety flow as soon as he notices, and really needs to work his way up to confronting the situation. I believe he would succumb to his thoughts a little and need a lot of comfort from you to feel better about it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or think anything could ever happen, but it’s such a reminder of the uncertainty that life brings that it makes him sad. Another one who wouldn’t really get jealous around the boys, but there are specific situations that would bring him down a little–like say you shared a snack with Hyunjin or watched his favorite movie with Seungmin, he is about to become a murderer. Just couldn’t take you doing any casually domestic activity with anyone else that it would annoy him to see it happen. Will be in desperate need of kisses and cuddles to make him feel better, but if he is jealous enough he may pretend like he doesn’t want any just so you could insist and unconsciously give him that validation that he needs. Demands at least two days of pure movie time with you to feel fully back to normal, and will in fact throw a fit if those needs are not met. He is just a sweet, pouty baby normally so it’s not surprising that under the right conditions these traits get magnified tenfold, but it’s okay because he’s so cute. 

Felix: About to cry fr. I feel like he doesn’t like feeling any negative emotions associated with you, so when he does it hurts him beyond belief. Trusts you with his life, but as soon as he hears someone hitting on you he gets so sad. Hates that other people can talk to you lol, would rather the only people you speak to be your friends, his friends and your loved ones. He’s not possessive at all, but I do think he genuinely worries about people speaking to you and hurting your feelings or making you uncomfortable, so with the jealousy he is also just so concerned about the person's intentions. Sometimes I think he’d get really mad too, he is such a lovey person that there is no world in which everyone in the area doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend, so when anyone comes up to you he would also be confused at why they thought that was okay. Somehow gets even closer to you; fully wrapped around your bones like a secondskin, walking everywhere with you like you’re doing a three-legged race, a million kisses pressed everywhere his eyes can see. I don’t think he would get jealous about one of the boys being too close to you, he loves you all so much and trusts everyone that it wouldn’t even cross his mind to be jealous about it unless he was making a joke. He is definitely the fastest of all the boys to admit to it, he is so emotionally intelligent and kind that he’d let you know as soon as he felt it was a good time. In conclusion, he is a precious angel and we all know it. 

Seungmin: Genuinely the most annoying little gremlin. Turns it on you immediately as if somehow you asked the person to keep sneaking peeks at you. Literally starts making fun of you, mockingly saying ‘wow you’re sooo pretty’ to cover up how upset he actually is about it. I feel like he gets confused when other people find you attractive, not because you’re not, but because you’re his and he just doesn’t think anyone should be looking at you for too long. Will not listen to you that maybe if he actually acted like your boyfriend in public people wouldn’t hit on you haha, he doesn’t see how never touching you and constantly teasing you doesn’t read boyfriend. If it’s one of the boys he’s jealous of and not just some rando, god save them; the meanest glares and most biting jokes he can come up with. Fronts so much in public, but as soon as you’re behind doors he is all over you–kisses all over and a dozen reminders about how much he loves you. Laughs in your face when you ask him if he was jealous, ‘do you want me to be?’ with the biggest side eye. Although I do think he is secretly a huge sap when it comes to his s/o, and will not accept you thinking he doesn’t care even if pretends he doesn’t, so apologizes really quickly if he sees you getting hurt by the nonchalance. Even though he won’t admit to it for at least a week, (everyone knows he was upset about it), he’s taking that to his grave–at least until you look at him for a little too long and he gets freaked out and cops to it lmao. 

Jeongin: The fussiest little baby. Like seriously, pouting/stomping feet/crocodile tears fussy baby. See’s someone looking at you at a coffee shop and immediately begins overthinking: ‘do they like them?’ ‘Is that person cuter than me?’ ‘They know we’re a couple right? Right?!’ This all happens in a series of five minutes. Now, he isn’t the most touchy in public–mostly just a hand on your back or fingers intertwined in your pocket, but it should be obvious enough that you’re there together. Immediately stares at the person, all while pretending he isn’t upset, but you can tell right away. For one, the hand on your back suddenly wraps around your tummy to press your back against his front and his head leans down to curl into your neck. Secondly, and most importantly he starts whining about how pretty you are. Not in a cutesy way, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re good looking, so pretty that other people notice it too. His bottom lip is jutted out and his eyes are so wide, and you just know. You won’t say anything until you get home for fear of embarrassing him, but he’s noticeably more touchy throughout the day; holding you to him around the boys and glaring at any stranger who looks at you too long. Gets jealous even faster if it's about one of the Kids, has no idea why Chan would be talking to you that long and tries to will him away with his mind–is so embarrassed when you tell him what you were really talking about lol because it was definitely him. When you finally ask him about it later he’ll laugh and act like you’re crazy, as if he hadn’t been acting like a lunatic all day, until apologizing and yelling at you for being too beautiful. All in all very cute and pouty and very charming <3 

© luvtak

[tatsumessy]

Horny Mess

Diavolo x fem reader

No words could explain how pissed off you were right now. Barbatos had just slipped you a message letting you know that your demon prince of a boyfriend has purposely been ignoring you for no reason.

Everytime you tried to see him or spend time with him he was always busy with meeting or classes or literally anything that could keep him away from you. You were getting fed up with his petty games so you asked Lucifer to set up a private meeting with just them two and obviously Diavolo agreed.

“This is his last meeting for the day so good luck.” Lucifer said walking away with Barbatos as you stood outside his office. You knocked on the door feeling your hand get clammy all of a sudden but once he said come in it’s like all those nerves disappeared. Was it because you hadn’t seen him for almost a month?

Diavolo looked up to see you standing infront of the door, he stiffened setting down the pen he was holding. “MC, I have a meeting with Lucifer any minute-” “I know, that meetings with me.” Your fingers twisted the lock behind you as you spoke slowly walking over to him.

He gulped feeling his body betray him once again, his face and neck was sweaty, his crotch was growing harder by the second just by the way you looked at him. Being the pervert he was the only reason he had been avoiding you was because his body kept giving off lewd reactions everytime you two were alone.

You arrived infront of his desk sitting down in the chair right across from him. The more you looked at him and the way he avoided eye contact with you the more pissed off you got. “Do you not like me anymore?” His body jolted forward at your question, “Why would you ask such a stupid question like that one?” There he goes answering your question with a question.

“We haven’t seen each other for a month, and everytime I do try to talk to you, you always have ‘better’ things to worry about. I get you’re the demon prince but is your girlfriend not a priority anymore?” You spoke biting on your thumb out of nervousness, yeah you were a human and he was a demon so that could be the reason he was keeping his distance but not telling you feels even worse.

“That’s not it at all MC. I think the affect of me liking you so much has been doing things to me. I think these lewd things about you everyday and I don’t think it’s right for me to have that type of vision about you.” His confession made you freeze in your seat, when you thought about this conversation right now you did not expect for it to go this way.

“Okay…you’ve been having horny thoughts about me…so what?” His cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink as you stood up walking around the desk to stand in between his legs. “Dia.” You said moving his hand from covering his face while you placed yourself on his lap, straddling him. His member was already erect and the look on his face made such an expression, if anybody were to see this right now they would’ve thought you two had sex already.

“Why would you ignore me for such a stupid reason?” Your left arm wrapped around his neck while your right hand caressed his heated cheeks. He didn’t respond verbally but his body sure did, his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. “I want…to fuck you so bad MC.” He whispered into your neck. That statement gave you goosebumps and it was like his words gave you a kickstart on the inside.

Your hips started grinding slowly against him and because of how physically strained he was small whines left his mouth turning you on even more. The wetness from your core dripped profusely through your underwear and skirt straight on to his black slacks. There was no time to apologize as his hips bunched into your creating loud thumping noises in his chair.

You moaned from the pressure gripping onto his jacket trying to center yourself. “Dia, please.” You whined throwing your head back as your eyes started to roll from how good the stimulation on your clit was feeling. “Do I have your permission to touch you?” He asked pressing kisses on the small of your neck, you nodded yes but he didnt want to take that as an answer. “Words precious.” He cooed in your ear.

“I give you permission.” Without hesitation he lifted you up and placed you onto the desk, he quickly lifted up your skirt thanking whoever made the dress code. The red lace panties you were wearing thanks to Asmo made this man blush even harder. The color seemed to match his hair color especially with the large wet patch that was on it.

“This is a treat.” He smiled hooking his finger under the fabric and pulling it down your bottom. He held it in his hand smiling then placed it in a drawer next to him before focusing his attention back on you.

The way his hands touched you was gentle, the way his mouth praised your body with words and touch made you feel so wanted. He was face to face with your cunt watching as you squirmed from the cold air of in his office blowing across it. He leaned forward kissing it once then licking one stripe to taste what he’d be eating tonight.

But in the moment he changed his mind. “Fuck. I wish I could take my time and indulge in the delectable feast you’re offering right now but I just can’t wait any longer. If I do I fear I might break.” His face was now parallel with yours as he admired how beautiful you looked on his desk under him.

His lips smashed onto yours distracting you from the aching feeling from down below. Even his kisses were doing major things to your body and he knew it, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger but what you didn’t know was that you had an even bigger hold on him.

He covered your mouth as you moaned out, tears formed in the corner of your eyes and Diavolo whispered sweet encouraging words in your ear while peppering soft kisses all around your face and neck. He was comforting you making sure you were alright but you could feel him shaking, he was trying to hold back which you didn’t want him to do. You both had been waiting for a whole month to see each other and now you two had all night.

“Dia, I want to do this. Please don’t hold back for me.” You said holding his face with both of your hands, in a split second his human form was transformed. His horns, wings and tail was out and his face was red. His tail wrapped around your left leg as his mouth latched onto your neck sucking it aggressively, he started grinding himself onto you forcing you to bite your lip in excitement.

You didn’t even realize the he had taken himself out of his pants, he rubbed himself a couple of time slowly slipping his tip between your folds. “I’m sorry.” He said forcefully shoving himself inside of you, he thrusted in and out repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot inside of you.

You let out breathy moans trying not to be too loud in case someone was still in the academy but Diavolo groaned louder in your ear so that if someone was still here they’d know how good you made him feel. He changed pace and started rolling his hips glancing up at you from under his eyelids.

“You’re okay baby. Stay with me.” He said pressing two light pecks on your neck, your and held onto the back of his coat keeping yourself grounded. Your back started arching the harder his thrust hit inside of you. “Ah! Fuck Dia slow down please.” You moaned out gripping his coat tighter.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m almost there baby.” He pushed forward knocking over some papers on the desk, his hands pulled up your thighs pressing them to your chest giving him better access to your exposed cunt. He pulled cock out pumping it a few times then slowly pushing back into you.

He let out a breathy moan bottoming out once again and the moment his hands gripped your ankles he started pounding into chasing after his running orgasm. You held your legs open allowing for him to fuck you into a mating press, your eyes were shut tightly feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap.

Diavolo knew you were about to cum, he could feel you tightening around his cock causing him to roll his eyes in the back of his head. His pace sped up as he leaned down kissing on your neck leading up to your lips, you were so out of it the you never realized that he was trying to get your attention by kissing you. “Look at me, cum with me baby.” He smiled looking into your eyes as he pumped his seeds into you.

Arching your back again you came around him creating a ring of both yours and his cum mixed together due to his slowly lazy thrust.

You laid with your back against the desk breathing heavily as Diavolo snuggled his face into your neck trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry if I was too aggressive.” He said leaning onto his elbow so that he could look down at you. “It’s okay Dia. Do you feel better?” He nodded aggressively snuggling himself into your neck again.

You laughed at his childish behavior and wrapped your arms around him pulling him closer to you. “Let’s get you home.” He spoke wrapping his arms under legs forcefully putting them around his waist.

He sat you down in his chair letting you rest while cleaning up his desk with spare paper towels he had hidden under his desk because he realized how much he loved having sex with you on his desk.

Once finished he picked you up holding you against the small of his chest taking you to his home.

[happy74827]

Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

[https-lawrenceslittleone]

since u wanted more requests can u do cg alastor hcs 😼

CG!Alastor Headcanons

A/N: Thank you omg. I love Alastor so much fr. 🙏🙏🙏

PLEASE he is so confusing sometimes.

Like he is such a strict caregiver with you, like you have a lot of rules

Be he’s also so chaotic

Like

Oh, you’re little right now? Great! Go bite Angel’s ankles for him. Just for fun. ☺️

But also do not leave his sight or he will not hesitate to carry you everywhere if he has to

AND you better get to bed on time or you lose your dessert privileges for a while

Hangs whatever you draw or color up on his wall or keeps it in his radio station somewhere so he can look at it while he…works. For a morale boost!

You aren’t allowed to watch TV, sorry. He would rather die (again).

He does let you play music on record players and listen to the radio, though! Sometimes he’ll put on music and dance to it with you 💖

Uses his powers to get you literally anything and everything you want. He’s just chill like that.

Alastor canonically doesn’t like physical touch but with you he doesn’t mind it at all! If you wanna cuddle, that’s fine.

But his main love languages are gift giving and acts of service. He loves buying you stuff and doing things for you.

You see a cute stuffie you want? It’s all yours now, darling.

Charlie needs you to do some chores around the hotel today? He’s got it covered, don’t worry about it!

But if you’re like me, and you really like physical touch (for me only with people I’m REALLY close with), he will gladly hold you. And he doesn’t care where if it’s around the hotel. He’ll gladly keep you in his lap on the couch if you want.

If anybody gives you guys weird looks, he’ll deal with it real fast.

The others truly don’t mind, though. They think it’s cute. It’s nice seeing that the Radio Demon actually has a heart and isn’t all bad!

Angel teases, but he isn’t trying to actually be mean.

Husk was like…worried about you at first. One time he pulled you aside and basically just asked you if you were being forced and you. Laughed at him. Not in a mean way you just thought the idea was kind of ridiculous.

I’m wanna write little drabbles and blurbs now cuz all I’ve done is headcanons except one one shot 😔😔😔

[cece693]

I'm Staying with You (Edward Scissorhands x M! Reader)

I just watched Edward Scissorhands, and why isn't anybody writing about this sweat bean? He deserves a good ending, fight me.

Summary: M/N remembers the day he met the shy, cute boy with scissors for hands. After all, his mother brought him into their home and slowly integrated him into their community. So when things go south, it is M/N who decides to run away with him.

When your mother announced a guest was staying with them, M/N didn't think much of it. He didn't care nor would he attempt to interact with them, but when a boy with literal scissors for hands had sat at their dining room table, M/N grew fascinated. 

Edward was unlike anything or anyone he'd ever met—his mannerisms were that of a gentleman, a word that literally fit the boy to a T. He was soft-spoken and held such an innocent aura about him, M/N at first thought it was all an act. That Edward had an ulterior motive because how would he have survived centuries isolated from the world without one noticing? But as M/N interacted with the boy, it became clear it was just who Edward was. A cute, sweet, albeit too trusting, boy who just wanted to be accepted. So it wasn't too much of a surprise when M/N found himself becoming protective and slightly possessive over Edward. 

Hearing that their neighbor Joyce had taken her clothes off while showing him the back of a store infuriated M/N, angrily stabbing at his plate until Kim uncomfortably changed the subject. But the damage was already done. Ignoring Edward’s curious gaze, M/N stood up from the table and stormed out of the house. He didn’t have a destination in plan, just wanting space to process his emotions. M/N wasn’t dumb; he knew he had unexpectedly fallen for Edward, but he also knew Edward felt similar feelings towards his sister Kim. A part of him was jealous of the relationship they shared, but another was happy that Edward knew some sort of happiness. In his eyes, Edward deserved the world and more. If Kim was part of that, how could M/N be angry? 

But then, fucking Jim had to ruin everything with his jealousy. M/N was horrified when Jim tricked Edward into stealing a van, only to leave him to face the charges alone. He seethed with anger as the townspeople, who once marveled at Edward’s talents, now turned their backs on him. Where was this hate when Edward was cutting their lawns and styling their hair? It was clear they had only used him for their benefit before discarding him like yesterday’s trash.

Jim’s cruelty didn’t stop there. He took it a step further, escalating his torment into a physical fight with Edward. M/N watched in worry as the two struggled, the situation spiraling out of control. The confrontation ended with Jim’s death—an act of self-defense, but M/N knew the townspeople wouldn’t see it that way. 

M/N’s heart pounded as he turned to Edward, urgency lacing his voice. “Edward, you have to stay here. The townspeople—they won’t understand what happened.”

Edward’s large, dark eyes looked up at M/N, filled with heartbreaking innocence. He shook his head slowly, his hands—those delicate scissor hands—trembling slightly. “I don’t want to leave you.” He whispered, his voice soft and pleading. 

M/N felt his resolve wavering as he gazed into those puppy-dog eyes. This was supposed to be goodbye, the last time they’d see each other. He had planned to protect Edward by sending him away, but now, faced with the boy’s sadness and fear, M/N’s determination crumbled. “Edward.” M/N began, his voice catching in his throat. He stepped closer, raising his hand to place it slowly on Edward’s face. “I…I don’t want to leave you either. But if you come back with me, they’ll hurt you. I can’t let that happen.”

Edward’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued to shake his head. “Please, don’t go.” M/N swallowed hard, his mind racing. He couldn’t bear to see Edward so heartbroken. The thought of leaving him alone in that mansion, isolated and afraid, was unbearable. 

“Okay.” M/N whispered, his voice turning firm as he made a snap decision. “Okay, listen to me. Stay here in the mansion. I’ll come back when I resolve everything.”

Edward’s expression softened, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. “You promise?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

M/N nodded, his thumb tracing Edward’s jaw reassuringly. “I promise. I just need to fix things here first. Make sure no one follows us. Then I’ll come back. Just wait for me, okay?”

Edward hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, trusting M/N’s word. “Okay.” he said softly. M/N leaned in, pressing a brief, tender kiss to Edward’s forehead. 

“I’ll be there soon.” he whispered. “I swear.” 

With one last look, M/N down the stairs and out the mansion, into the snowy ground. His mind raced as he thought through the plan. He could tell the townspeople that both Jim and Edward had killed each other, using Jim’s body as evidence. But to make the story convincing, M/N knew he needed something else—something tangible of Edward’s that wouldn’t raise questions about the legitimacy of his story.

As the realization hit him, M/N’s eyes widened. Without wasting another moment, he turned on his heel and raced back into the mansion, heading straight for the room where Edward’s creator had left his tools and inventions. The room was dusty and filled with remnants of unfinished work, the echoes of a life dedicated to creating Edward.

In the corner of the room, M/N spotted what he needed: multiple prototypes of Edward’s body. His gaze fell on a hand made of flimsy metal scraps, an early attempt at the scissor hands that had become a part of the man. It was incomplete, rough around the edges, but it would serve its purpose. M/N carefully picked up the metal hand, feeling its cold, uneven surface in his grasp. This would be enough to convince the townspeople that Edward was gone.

Leaving the mansion, M/N began his trek back to town, the cold biting at his skin as he walked through the snow-covered path. With each step, he couldn’t help but rethink his decision to leave everything behind for Edward. He would miss his family dearly, the warmth of their home, the familiarity of their voices. But deep down, M/N had known for a while that he never truly belonged. 

The town, with its narrow minds and rigid expectations, had never felt like home to him. There was always a part of him that longed for something more, something different. Meeting Edward had only solidified that feeling.

And it wasn’t as if M/N couldn’t make short visits to his family—specifically his mother and sister, Kim. He could still see them from time to time, even if things would be different. To the outside world, he could fabricate a story about moving to a faraway city for work or to start a new life. It wouldn’t be entirely untrue, just missing a few crucial details. Mom and Kim would understand, or at least, M/N hoped they would. Edward has been abandoned for far too long; M/N wanted to fix this. 

[unaside]

best friend i hate when people try to criminalize fitz to make other characters the victim in every situation. it’s so annoying. like he’s such a good character and barely anybody actually sees what a complex person he is. we think there’s nothing wrong going on in the vacker family? seriously? i mean if biana felt invisible and ignored her entire life and alvar joined the fucking neverseen there must have been something that was happening. you cant tell me they were just like that. the plot twist of alvars betrayal was actually so shocking because, like, you would have had no fucking idea. he must have been a good person, but he could have just snapped. biana wants to create her own legacy. she wants to break rules. she wants to tear away from the norms. idk where this is going i’m just rambling about random stuff at this point. but BIANA FEELING INVISIBLE HER WHOLE LIFE THEN MANIFESTING AS A VANISHER IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME. alvar and biana escaped. for better or for worse. fitz cant. and omg i fucking hate when people get mad at fitz for ending things with sophie after the matchmaking thing. he literally said and i quote, “i would never hear the end of it. my parents and sister would never hear the end of it. and i don’t think i could deal with that.” FUCKING GOD. GOD FORBID A TRAUMATIZED TEENAGE BOY DOESNT WANT TO DISAPPOINT HIS ENTIRE FAMILY. FUCKING HELL. fitz cant escape from whatever fucking legacy he’s in. he’s stuck there. he always has been and he always will be. he’s the perfect child. the golden child. the favorite child. i swear i should start counting how many times he’s been called perfect. he’s been put on a pedestal his entire fucking life and the second he tries dipping a toe in the water below he gets attacked. there’s nothing he can do but stay. he’s not allowed to be anything but perfect. he can’t stray from that. he’s been at it his entire life. HES NOT ALLOWED TO BE ANYTHING BUT PERFECT. and now here’s the part where i get talk about keefe. don’t worry guys he’s a cool guy i just don’t rlly like him😔 keefe is allowed to be imperfect. he’s allowed to be messy. fitz isn’t. i know it hurts him whenever someone(mostly keefe) makes a comment on him or his family being perfect, when they’re anything but. but he tries and tries and tries. he can’t be imperfect, but he can’t be too perfect. there’s nothing he can do. he’s put under all this pressure at a very young age and he’s expected to succeed at everything. and it makes me mad that keefe is so ignorant about it. he makes jokes and i know that he knows it hurts fitz. he’s literally an empath. bye i’m not taking any criticism 🙏

(i found this in my notes and i genuinely can’t remember when i wrote this help)

[haikyuuhoo]

if you could change anything, please just stay the same (because i love everything about you)

pairing: gojo x reader (but their relationship isn't the focus of this at all, just a very small part of the foundation)

wc: 876

a/n: meant to take place immediately after the end of jjk 0. sorry for the sads, but i thrive in angst. also sorry for the fact that this is very rushed and probably not great lol i just wanted to write something and this is what happened.

listen

The wind whips around you as you step out onto the roof, and you have to fight to keep your balance as you walk toward the figure standing on the ledge.

He’s got his hands in his pockets, facing out over the rest of Jujutsu High’s campus and staring silently at the rubble that the day’s incidents have caused.

“Do you think it could have been different?” Satoru asks when you approach.

You’re surprised he heard your footsteps over the sound of the wind, but then you remember that it’s probably not that, that he probably sensed your presence—or whatever it is those eyes of his allow him to do.

“What do you mean?” You know he’s asking about today, about the fight and the wreckage and the casualties, but you’re not quite sure which part he’s asking about specifically. “I’m sure lots of things could have gone differently, but we didn’t know exactly what they were planning. We prepared well, I think, but—”

“Do you think Geto could have stayed?”

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting that question, and expecting even less that he would be asking about something that happened ten years ago. You stare at him, weighing your response before you finally speak. “You know he couldn’t have. You let him live, but he would have been killed if he stayed here.”

Satoru hesitates, his body unwavering despite the fact that the toes of his shoes are hanging over the ledge and the wind is picking up. Part of you worries he wouldn’t even try to stop himself if he fell.

His voice is incredibly soft when he speaks next, but you still hear it.

“Do you think, if I weren’t me, he would still be here?”

You physically recoil at the question, and you immediately want to say no, to shout it over the wind, but your throat is closing up and you can’t even attempt to speak before he continues.

“We were the strongest. And then I… I pushed him away, didn’t I? I was so focused on perfecting my technique and becoming the best that I didn’t even realize that we turned into me. And I didn’t even notice what was happening to him, how… not okay he was.” He swallows hard, and you imagine he’s squeezing his eyes shut tight behind his bandages in that way he does when he’s frustrated. “I was so selfish.”

Satoru turns to face you, and you nearly reach out to pull him away from the ledge. You know the fall wouldn’t kill him—not even close—but it still makes your stomach lurch with unease. “If I was literally anybody else, he would still be here. He would still be alive. I wouldn’t have had to—” His whole body shakes with the breath he sucks in. “Do you have any idea how often I wish I wasn’t like this?”

This time you can’t help yourself, you reach out and tug him toward you, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso as if he'll fall away if you let him go. And he lets you, drops his infinity so you can touch him—so he can touch you—and Satoru nearly crumples in on himself, clinging to you as he begins to cry. “I’m trying so fucking hard—”

“I know,” you whisper. You’ve never seen him like this. It was bad when Riko died and worse when Geto defected, but Gojo Satoru has never seemed so small before, has never needed someone to hold him together.

Because he’s the strongest, after all.

He doesn’t need anyone.

Right?

“If I could go back, I would change so much. I would change me if I could, I swear. I don’t deserve to be here any more than him just because I was born with these stupid fucking techniques.”

“Don’t say that,” you say quietly, because you know if you speak more than a whisper he’ll hear that you’ve started crying too. “You’re so good, Satoru. You care so much about these kids and you never stopped caring about Geto. If you weren’t you—”

“If I weren’t me, everything would be better.”

You feel your heart shatter in your chest.

Because you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s not true.

But you stay quiet, the statement hanging in the air, just letting him hold you because you know that’s what he needs right now.

“If I could change anything—”

“Don’t change a thing,” you say firmly. You feel a sob wrack through him, and you bury your face against his shoulder. “Don’t change. We need you.”

I love you.

You know this will pass. That tomorrow will come and you’ll all rebuild, forever altered, but you’ll slowly get better. That he’ll go back to being Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and the typical annoying goofball that you fell in love with.

But for now, you’re content to let him need you, to let him hold you tightly and be vulnerable in a way he so rarely ever allows himself to be, to help him carry some of the weight of the world that was placed on his shoulders the day he was born.

reblogs & comments always appreciated <3

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part one] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex (18+ mdni)

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“You know Felix!”

“You know Felix!”

“You know Felix!”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, and if he’s anything like the rest of your family that point isn’t very convincing.”

“I’m fucking telling him you said that,” you best friend said with a grin, shaking his head

“Go right ahead. Tell him this too.” You flicked him off and grabbed a 2-liter of sprite from the counter behind you. “Tell him it’s from me, with love.”

“I’ll be sure to pass the message along.”

“Great. Can you pass me that?”

“This?” Han asked, holding up a bottle of vodka. You nodded. “If you’ll go on the trip.”

“Asshole,” you muttered. You swiped for the bottle, but Jisung held it above your head out of your reach. “Fine, I’ll fucking drink sprite and tequila, happy?” 

“Jesus Christ, just take the vodka,” he said and held it out to you, “I’m not going to be the reason you get sick.”

“Such a gentleman.”

He rolled his eyes. “How many times have I saved your ass from dates with losers this semester alone?”

“That’s different and you know it!” you argued. “You’re only playing the boyfriend card for like fifteen minutes max and we always get takeout afterwards.” 

“All I’m saying is, you’ve been on a lot of shitty dates this year. It adds up.”

“Not to two fucking months it doesn’t!” You twisted the cap off the bottle of vodka with your teeth and eyeballed a shot and a half into the cup. 

Jisung leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, giving you that knowing half smile you were all too familiar with. You scowled in annoyance and took a sip of your drink. He knew you better than anybody, and if that smile was any indication, he knew you were going to break soon. But you weren’t about to give in without a fight. 

“I’ve bailed you out of dates as well, so don’t act like I’ve never done you any favors.”

“I only called you once this semester, but nice try.”

You shrugged. “All that’s telling me is that I get laid way more than you do.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You really want to do this right now? In the middle of this party?”

You didn’t offer a response aside from pursing your lips before taking another sip of your drink. Realistically, it was too close to call which one of you slept with more people, and you knew that. Han just didn’t usually take his lays out to dinner first like yours did. 

“Come on, you’re always going on about how you want to travel!” he insisted. “This is the perfect opportunity, and it’s all already paid for.” 

“That’s not what I meant by traveling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just, I don’t know, I want to explore places, meet people, bar hop- I don’t want to follow an itinerary and wear matching t-shirts… you know?” Jisung grimaced. “We’re gonna have to wear matching t-shirts aren’t we?”

“My mom’s been working on them for a month,” he admitted sheepishly. “But we’ll have free time! We can do whatever you want then, promise. We can bar hop to your heart’s content” 

“I don’t know, Ji…”

“Just say you’ll think about it?” he asked, giving you puppy dog eyes. 

You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

-

“Y/n, I swear to God if you don’t call me back within the hour I’m calling campus police. I can’t keep leaving messages because I know your inbox is probably almost full because you never clean the damn thing out so this is the last one- if you’re freaking out about what I sent you and ignoring me because of it can you just text me or something so I know you’re alive? If you’re not ignoring me I- just call me, okay? I’m getting worried.” You could hear him take a breath like he was about to say something else, but the message cut off there. 

It was his fourth call to you in a row, and all of the other voicemails were basically the same thing- aside from him mentioning that if you were dead in a ditch somewhere he wouldn’t email Dateline and get you an episode like he’d agreed to do if you were ever murdered just because he was mad at you for not answering his calls in the third message. 

You squinted at your phone and typed out a quick text back just to let him know you were okay. You read it over once before sending it to make sure it was coherent, but the words were blurring together on the screen and the light was hurting your eyes. Whatever, if there was anyone who could understand your gibberish it was Jisung. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to stop the throbbing in between your eyes. The room was dark, save for the single ray of sunlight shining through the gap in the curtains right into your eyes. Your luck never failed you. 

You weren’t a stranger to hangovers, unfortunately, but that didn’t make them any less of a bitch. Apparently it came with the territory of being a lightweight with a best friend who was a heavyweight. Keeping up with Jisung was like an olympic fucking sport that you were in no way qualified to compete in, but that had never stopped you from trying. 

It was only when you reached for the glass of water you always kept on your bedside table that you realized you weren’t actually in your bed. Your first clue should’ve been the curtains. You didn’t have curtains on your window. 

“Fuck.”

You mustered up some energy and tried to sit up, taking a brief look around the room to try and get your bearings. It was a standard college apartment bedroom from what you could tell. There were several doors, one of which was cracked open to reveal an ensuite bathroom. You didn’t even have to look at the person sleeping beside you to know you were in a boy’s room. The bed- if you could even call it that- was just a mattress on the floor and the only decoration in the whole room was a barstool flag hanging on the wall. You always picked winners. 

You carefully peeled back the covers, pushed yourself to your feet, and made your way into the bathroom all without waking whoever was next to you. One look in the dirty mirror told you everything you needed to know. What was left of your makeup was smudged around your eyes, making you look like a very hungover racoon. Your underwear was still on, but your pants were gone and you were wearing someone else’s t-shirt. It was a tour shirt from a band you’d never heard of that probably either hadn’t released new music since 2009 or broke up over a decade ago. Whatever, just another to add to your collection.

It had been an hour and twenty minutes since Jisung had left that last voicemail, and you were banking on the hope that he hadn’t contacted the police yet. 

“Y/n, what the fuck, where are you?” You held the phone away from your ear as he shouted at you through the speaker. Your headache was already bad enough. 

“I-uh, I don’t know. But I’m fine,” you assured him. “Can you pick me up?”

“How do you expect me to pick you up if you don’t even know where you are?”

“Is my location o-”

“If your location was on, do you think I would’ve called you a thousand times?”

“Okay, okay that was stupid of me, sorry.”

“Is there a window you could look out of and like describe the surroundings to me?”

You looked back up into the mirror and noticed a window in the shower behind you. You scrambled over to it, unceremoniously stepping into the tub to get a closer look. 

“I see a bunch of cars, and a street sign…”

“What does the street sign say?”

“I don’t know, it’s too far away.” You could practically hear Jisung roll his eyes over the phone. “Uh, there’s also a playground like a block to the left and a house with a big tree.”

“You know you’re describing every suburban neighborhood ever, right? You do know that?”

“Shut up, I’m trying my best,” you mumbled and squinted at what looked to be lights twinkling in the distance. Someone already had their Christmas decorations up a few houses down. “Oh, shit! I know where I am!”

“And where would that be?”

“I’m at the same house from last night, the one that had the party.”

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me? You’re just now realizing that? How could you not recognize it before?”

“Well I’ve never seen the upstairs! And I wasn’t in the bedrooms last night,” you reasoned.

“Alright, alright spare me the details. I'm on my way.”

You grinned. “Thanks, Hannie, you’re the best.” 

“I know.” You heard the jingle of keys in the background and then the sound of a car ignition turning over. “Stay on the line with me, okay?”

“Okay- I’ll climb out the window and meet you on the lawn.” 

“Hold on, did you say you were going to climb out the window?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s not too-”

“Why aren’t you going down the stairs and through the front door like a normal person?”

“Uh, a couple of reasons, namely that I don’t have any pants. I can’t find them anywhere.” There was a lapse of silence on the other end of the line. “Jisung?”

“I’m still here, I just don’t know what to say to that, honestly.”

“I wouldn’t either,” you sighed. “So I’m just going to,” you grunted with effort as you pushed the window open, “there we go.”

“You’d really rather crawl out of a window than just do the walk of shame and get it over with?”

You didn’t answer, instead hoisting yourself up and over the ledge head first then tumbling onto the roof. The roof wasn’t very slanted, thankfully, so you didn’t have to worry about accidentally rolling off. You shakily got to your feet and brushed yourself off before sliding the window closed behind you. 

“Y/n?” Jisung’s voice echoed through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Not really.”

A sigh came from his end, but nothing else. You smiled, despite yourself and took a deep breath as you looked down at the ground below you. The drop was a little further than you had anticipated, but you couldn’t turn back now. What would someone say if they saw you climb back in through the window? What would you say to them? The situation was already bizarre enough as it was. 

You squatted down at the edge of the roof in preparation to jump, trying to psych yourself up as Jisung’s  prius rounded the corner down the block. 

“How is this less humiliating than the walk of shame?” Jisung huffed, you assumed mostly to himself. “You look ridiculous.”

“I think you’re underestimating the lengths I’m willing to go to avoid awkward social interaction,” you countered. “And I slept with a stranger last night, my decision making is questionable at best right now.”

“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” he said, sighing as he parked in front of the house. “Please be careful, okay? Don’t hit your head. You can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.”

You glared in his direction. “Ha ha, very funny.”

You sucked in another breath and squeezed your eyes shut before pushing off the edge of the roof with your hands. You landed on your feet, but the momentum from hitting the ground made you lose your balance and you fell face-first onto the lawn. The grass was freshly cut, clippings littering the sidewalk, and you knew without even looking that your clothes were stained to all hell. 

You picked yourself up with a groan, and jogged the rest of the way to Jisung’s car. You slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you, unable to make eye contact with him as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Jisung tossed you a pair of basketball shorts he’d grabbed from the back and put the car in drive.  

“I think that might be your best performance yet,” he said smugly as you pulled the shorts on. 

“Please tell me you didn’t film-”

“It’s already on my Instagram story.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” He pursed his lips like he was trying not to smile. “But hey, who saved your ass just now? Oh that’s right, me.”

“Yeah yeah, thank you,” you grumbled. 

“What was that?”

You smiled sweetly. “Thank you for picking me up, Jisung.”

“You’re welcome. Was that so hard?”

“No comment.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence as he drove. He turned up the radio to drown out the sound of the tires against the asphalt as he merged on the main road and gunned it. The morning was still gray and dewey with fog lingering over the street like something out of a horror movie. It might have been unsettling if the weather wasn’t always like this here. 

You pulled down the sun shade and looked into the small mirror, trying to wipe away the excess mascara and eyeliner underneath your eyes. You hadn’t gotten the chance to yet and your reflection was still winter soldier-esque. 

“Do you want coffee?” Jisung asked. “My treat.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. Jisung never offered to pick up the tab unless he wasn’t sober… or unless he wanted something. Still, you ignored your better judgment and thought maybe he was just being nice after your rough night. 

“Sure, that sounds good.” 

He handed you his phone so you could put in the order for the two of you. Cold brew with almond milk for him and an iced caramel vanilla latte with oat milk for yourself. They were saved under his favorites on the menu along with his debit card. You sent in the order and handed the phone back to him just as it buzzed with a notification from his dms. 

“Oh yeah, did you end up going home with that girl last night?” you asked with a smirk, remembering how he’d spent most of the party pressed up against a stranger with bright green hair. 

He shook his head. “No, she told me she had a final today.”

“Today’s Saturday.”

“I know.”

You made a sympathetic face. “That’s rough, buddy.”

“Don’t Prince Zuko me right now.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” You gave him a not-at-all-reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You win some, you lose some.”

“Feels like I’ve been losing a lot lately,” he muttered. “It’s like I’m on a streak or something.”

“I’m sure you’ll turn that around this summer,” you said confidently. Jisung gave you a weird look. “What?”

“Did you not read the emails I sent you?”

You blinked. “The emails-”

“Did you not listen to the voicemails I sent you?”

“I uh- I listened to them but I don’t… you emailed me? You never email me.” 

You unlocked your phone and scrolled to the mail app, ignoring the red 12,848 unread messages icon in the corner that taunted you day and night. At the very top of your inbox was an email from Jisung that had been forwarded from… his mom? You looked back up at him in confusion, but he was concentrated on the road ahead and refused acknowledge you. 

You opened the email, hoping for some clarity, but its contents gave you none. Instead, Flight Information for Jisung + 1 stared back at you in bold font from the subject line. You scanned down the rest of the message briefly, finding yourself more and more lost as it went on. 

“Han, what is this?” you asked. The nausea from your hangover had flip-flopped into dread that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s the stuff for the trip,” he replied like it should have been obvious. “You said you’d go.”

“I said I’d think about it,” you clarified.

“Yeah, and then later you came back and told me you’d go.”

You sat back in your seat, trying to remember. “I-I did?”

Jisung whipped his head in your direction with a panicked look on his face. “Do you not remember?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

“God fucking damn it, I should’ve known you were blacked out. You don’t remember any of it?”  he asked again, perhaps thinking that if he asked enough times you’d magically remember. You shook your head reluctantly. Jisung sighed. “Well, like an hour and a half after you told me you’d think about it you came back and told me you’d do it and we talked about it some more and I texted my mom right then because she’s been bugging me about it for weeks and-” 

 “Hey, don’t worry about it, okay?” your voice shook as you spoke. Suddenly it all made sense. Why Jisung thought you might be freaking out this morning, the voicemails, the coffee, all of it. Maybe it was the alcohol from the night before talking, or some weird sense of best friend duty, but you knew what you had to do. You probably would have ended up doing it anyway. “I told you I’d go… so I’ll go.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, forcing a smile. “It’ll be fun, right?.”

“Yes, absolutely it will be fun. I promise,” Jisung said, letting out a breath and relaxing his grip on the steering wheel. He beamed at you, and honestly whatever shit you’d gotten yourself into was worth it in that moment alone. “Thank you so much, y/n. You’re the best, seriously- I owe you.”

“No shit.”

[writefightandflightclub]

“Yes man” (Cecil Dennis {fuck me, how did I get here} x fem!reader)

Summary: Blurby McBlurbFace. Mainly chat, slight fluff, smut, pining / friends to lovers vibes.

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: alcohol consumption; drug use mentions (weed); smoking; dumbification of Cecil, I guess. Mommy kink if you squint. Public erections / handjob sorta, premature ejaculation / cum in pants. Mentions of dead fish but no fish were harmed. Actually, a surprising number of animal metaphors. Oops. Rimming I’m sorry that one snuck in very last minute Omg.

A/n: having a shitty mental health day (boo) and this Cecil blurb (whilst not my best) is my self-care ☺️ I don’t remember his character well aside from wet bloody cat boy, but I’m damn sure not rewatching that again so this will have to do 😅. Feedback appreciated! 🧡 (Is the rimming too much? 🙈) Not proofed and I’m almost positive autocorrect will have screwed me over.

Also totally inspired by @my-secret-shame’s meme and @foxilayde’s amazing blurb. I will not pretend to have had an original idea! 🧡

“Come onnnn, Cecil,” you whine, poking him in his soft belly with your index finger. He giggles lightly, almost like a hiccough. “It’s always me coming up with the ideas. What do you wanna do next?”

He turns his head as though in slow motion. Moves as if he’s underwater, this one - at least when he’s got food and several beers in him (which is most of the time). He looks up. Blinks at you; dumbly. “What do you mean?”

Eh. You’d really thought your statement had been quite clear.

You resist the urge to pinch his cheek and tell him It’s a good job you’re pretty.

“I mean, that I suggest things, and you go along with them.”

He blinks again. It’s like everything is just a little slower in Cecil’s world. Takes a little longer to filter through. It’s refreshing, in a way. He’s in no rush, and it encourages you to slow down too. To smell the roses.

Cecil is beyond easy-going, come to think of it. Goes with the flow like a dead fish. You’re pretty sure, in fact, that he’d go along with just about anything. With just about anybody’s hare-brained schemes, without once thinking through a single one of the potential consequences.

Scratch that - he probably already has done just that; which would explain a lot of the trouble he’s routinely gotten himself into since you’ve known him.

Though, you suppose, in a way that’s refreshing too. You always did worry too much.

Besides, he always seems to muddle through, somehow. Though quite how has you stumped. It’s hardly due to his charm or his smarts, now, is it? Even so, despite whatever attributes he is lacking in, you can’t deny that he must be doing something right. Trouble simply seems to slide right off the man’s back. Like water off a… well. A dead fish, you guess. What a versatile metaphor.

He blinks at you again. Maybe those big pretty cow eyes help, just a teency bit, to get him out of trouble, you would wager.

Look at him though. You’ve never seen anyone more relaxed. Practically horizontal as he’s hunkered down in the booth, seated next to you in the corner of your usual dive bar. Maybe there’s something to be said for all the pot and seedy hotel room fucks he indulges in. You bet his shoulders are inordinately loose. Maybe he really does have it all figured out, despite appearances.

As you ponder this, Cecil -eventually- makes a non-committal noise, before his bloodshot, glassy eyes flick back to the TV hung up on the wall. He is barely even watching it. Just letting it happen to him, like he does with most everything else.

That’s probably why you’ve never fucked him, you realise, like a bolt out of the blue. He’s pretty, sure. But you wouldn’t.

You don’t mind control - that’s not it. You don’t mind taking charge. But with Cecil? You think he’d take it lying down - a little too literally. If you’d ever suggested you and he fool around, you’d never know for sure. Never know if it really was his idea - a thought or desire he’d ever had before - or if he was simply far too agreeable and opportunistic to decline. So agreeable, that he’d let you ease your vagina up and down on his cock until you came on him. You were intrigued by the thought, sure. But you refused to go there simply because Cecil couldn’t come up with anything better to do.

You look at him, and immediately bat that thought - the vagina all over cock one - away though, as you regard his complete lack of gumption. It’s tangible. Look at him now, for example. He’d seemed to like the way the air from his non-committal noise had filtered over the neck of his bottle, tucked under his folded chin. Indeed, he is now pursing his full, curvy lips, and blowing over the mouth of it until a soft series of “hoots” fill your booth.

You fold your arms and sigh.

You reckon that will amuse him for the next ten minutes at least, so clearly, once again, Cecil’s not the one coming up with a plan for the remainder of this evening.

It’s not that you ever really have to do anything with Cecil to have a good time. It’s just that, tonight, you’re antsy, and it’s making your thoughts wander in directions. Down below his zipper directions, so help you.

“Beer’s empty,” Cecil states flatly, finally noticing after sucking on the bottle for a mo, poking his wet pink tongue around the rim like the little wet cat boy he is. Cute though. Does things to you.

Anyway. You register his statement, but you observe that no action follows. He doesn’t look at all like he plans to do a damn thing about it.

You decide to test your theory, then. Your theory that Cecil’s simply a dead fish swept along in your river. That maybe he doesn’t even want to be here at all. Never did. That you are just another something that happened to happen to him.

“Do you wanna go get Mexican?” you offer, with ulterior motives Cecil is not shrewd enough to pick up on.

His eyes tick back from the captivating, shifting lights of the TV. “Sure,” he smiles softly at you, perfectly content, it seems - and yet, you are less than satisfied.

“See!” You smack the palms of your hands together in triumph, and he jumps. Pushes himself up a little straighter in the seat, his palms disappearing into the worn, lumpy upholstery. “See what I mean?”

He blinks at you blankly. Again.

Clearly not, then?

“You just go along with anything I say. We ate two hours ago, Cecil,” you complain, recalling the all you can eat Chinese buffet you and he had gorged on with two coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper. You drop your hands to your lap, dejectedly. You’re getting agitated with him, which surprises you, in truth. And still… there Cecil is. Unflappable. Calm. Constant. There are pros to his cons, for sure. “I just… I never know if you actually like what we’re doing, you know?”

“But. You always suggest things I like. So why would I say no?” He shrugs a little. “Tacos are good. I like tacos. I like…” he hoots into his bottle again as he says the word. “You-ooooooh.”

You hate to admit it, but his answer has you stumped for a moment. Cecil’s statements may generally be simple. Uncomplicated. But they can be oddly profound at times.

Christ. Maybe… Does the man actually have a valid point? Or, perhaps you’re looking too hard for meaning in his words - it’s possible. You feel like you’ve spent a lot of time lately looking hard at Cecil, perhaps to justify your bizarre and inexplicable feelings.

Possibly you’re even projecting. His seeming lack of independent willpower would certainly make that easy enough to do.

Maybe the man has a point though. Maybe he’s not as “easy-going” as you think he is. Maybe you’re just coincidentally so attuned to his desires that he’s never had cause to deny you. Maybe you are aligned with his desires. One and the same. “What if I asked you to do something you didn’t like, then?”

You slurp up the dregs of melted ice through your straw and Cecil blinks again as though it’s taking all of his processing power. Damn, though. You’re surprised that the fanning of those endlessly long cow lashes didn’t cause the curtains behind you to billow in the breeze they threw up. “Like what?”

You shake your head. Touch his arm to placate him. “Never mind, Cecil.” Christ. If he can’t even think of a single Thing He Wouldn’t Like, maybe you can safely stick to your dead fish hypothesis. It’s all the same to him. Just happening to him. He’s not choosing you.

That particular thought, when it arrives, niggles you more than expected, but you quash the growing agitation which rides in alongside it.

Meanwhile, Cecil looks around, quite visibly thinking. “I wouldn’t get up outta this seat,” he states adamantly, his voice croaked from all the blunts he’s worked through today. “I wouldn’t like that.”

You believe him. He’s practically sliding down to become a puddle on the floor. Dissolving into the bar furniture; becoming one with the upholstery.

Your lips curl up into a tender smile, remembering one particularly ridiculous night at Cecil’s. The night involving a 3am bong sesh, culminating in him genuinely believing he had merged with the couch, becoming a half-human half-upholstery monstrosity. He had waved the two huge, puffy couch cushions around as though they were his arms, and he’d grabbed you up in the middle of them like a grilled cheese, sandwiching you and taking you down to the floor where the two of you had rolled and laughed until you’d cried.

When the laughter had subsided to only the odd titter here and there, and you had lain on his disgusting rug almost nose to nose? That’s the first time you’d wanted to kiss him, and it turned out not to have been the last.

Fuck. You are rather fond of this idiot, aren’t you? How the fuck did that happen?

Engaged fully now though - slightly more lucid than your fond memory- Cecil sits up. Still slouched but this time over the table, his forearms bracing him against the surface. As he moves, you get a waft of his layered, stale cigarette smell. It’s… confusing, in its appeal. Should be off-putting, but you find, in fact, that it’s a comfort.

“No? You don’t wanna?”

With a rush of affection you link your arm through Cecil’s, and he slumps his head on to your shoulder as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You weren’t ready for the way his knotted curls brush your cheek, and it inspires a similarly dense and tangled knot to form in your middle.

“No.” It’s the most sure you’ve ever heard him sound. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“A minute ago we were going for Mexican food, Cecil.” There’s a beat. “That kinda involves movement, you realise?

He swivels his head towards you then, gaze all doe-eyed and pathetic, and the proximity of him parroting on your shoulder knocks you for six. “You mad at me or something, Hottie from Walmart?”

You snort. He doesn’t always pull out that nickname for you - how you’d been known to him before you had been known to him - but it always makes you sentimental when he does.

He shifts from you then, tilting his body towards you. Scrutinising you with apprehension in his sweet face.

Fuck him actually, and fuck his pouty beautiful kissable lips most of all.

You sigh, and you deliberately soften your face. He’s easy-going, sure, but he’s sensitive. Trouble slides off of his back, but other things… other things don’t slip off quite so well, and he often gets like this. Like he’s done something wrong, when he hasn’t.

You actively resist the urge to coddle him. To tenderly rake his somewhat grimy but beautiful curls off of his forehead.

You hardly want to examine the fact he brings out your… motherly instincts; but it doesn’t escape your attention that he always seems like he’s craving just a little nurturing. You want to take your thumb and smooth out the creases in his troubled brow.

“No, Cecil. I’m not mad at you. I’d tell you if I was and we’d talk about it.”

He nods.

You’re not mad at him. Really. And so, you take pause to wonder why this happy-go-lucky trait of his is particularly irking you today. “It’s mostly a good thing, I promise.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.”

He looks pleased for a minute and then: “Wait. What’s a good thing?”

You want to kiss his stupid mouth until he can’t think. Which you don’t think would take long at all, actually.

“That…” You think about how to phrase it, and it quickly occurs to you. “That. You’re my ‘yes man’.” He is expressionless for a moment, and you wait for comprehension to slowly crawl over him. “I mean, Cecil,” you take his clammy hand in yours. “That it’s always fun with you. I mean that you never shoot down my ideas. Even when you probably should.”

His face splits with a brief - goofy, but wholly endearing - smile. “You have fun with me?”

His big cow eyes go all soft and wet.

Oh boy. This idiot. If you didn’t have fun with him, even just sitting on his grotty couch, what other reason could you possibly have to hang out with him, huh?

You open your mouth to say as much before thinking better of it, but for once Cecil beats you to it.

“I have fun with you too, Hottie.”

It’s another one of those moments of levity that you’ve experienced surprisingly often with Cecil. One of those moments where everything feels a just little more profound. A little more magical. Sometimes, Cecil gets you in the gut just a little harder than expected.

Great. And now you’re thinking of Cecil all up in your guts.

“I should think so - I’m awesome. But, right now? All I’m saying is…” You tap your noggin. “Tank empty. No ideas. It’s your turn to decide what we do tonight? Okay?”

You search his eyes. His big, beautiful, sincere and secretless eyes. You silently ask the true question you want to ask him. I want to know what you want.

You’re not yet ready to admit the questions buried right beneath that one: do you want me back? Could you? Would you, Cecil?

“Yeah?” Cecil responds, unsure, and you immediately worry that you have, in fact, given him too much responsibility. His expression compresses in a frown of deep, deep concentration. Like he’s really wrestling with this.

You watch with bated breath, dying to see what he comes up with - if anything at all.

And then - aha - he finally has it.

“I could jerk off.”

“Wha-?” You playfully bat him in the arm, aghast. “Cecil!!”

“What?” A surprised, contrite laugh bobs in his throat.

“I mean.” You swallow. “How is that an idea for both of us?”

Oh that’s your problem with his idea?

That it’s not participatory enough?

“You could help.”

Your jaw drops open. “Cecil! I’m not gonna-” you switch to a loud whisper “-jerk you off!”

He blinks again, his eyes glinting with a gentle - ever so gentle - flicker of amusement. “You’re not a yes man,” he complains softly, his curly lips sneaking up into a curly smile. “Always shooting down my ideas.”

He bats his lashes at you and oh boy - even Cecil must be starting to figure out that you’re a sucker for those big, pretty brown eyes. Your one true weakness.

“That’s really what you want?” you ask, trying to keep things light. To keep your tone jokey and jovial, like always, despite the rising tremor in your voice. “It would involve getting up, you realise?”

He winks at you - a gesture which seems entirely unlike him and yet somehow works - and smirks down at his crotch. “Already am.”

“If you’re really so uncontrollably horny, why don’t you get someone else around here to help you, huh?” Your heart skips a beat. “Why me?”

He’s looking at you like he wants you but… he’s an opportunistic guy. Goes with the flow. That’s how things come to him; he’ll take his cigarettes and beers and fucks wherever and whenever he can get them.

He unceremoniously pulls out a rolled blunt and lights it up, the filter end pressed between his plush pink lips.

“No.” It bobs as he talks and he takes little, peppered drags to get the burn going.

“No?”

You blink at him dumbly now.

“No. I only want you.”

Correction. That’s the most sure of anything you’ve ever heard him.

He slips forward, exhaling his smoke into your mouth as his lips caress yours. “Come on,” he encourages. “Get going. Before my penis turns into a couch cushion.”

He kisses your laugh, and as his tongue slides hungrily against yours suddenly it isn’t quite so funny. Suddenly, you feel like maybe Cecil has the best ideas.

“Right here?” You reach down, and you smooth your palm over the clothed bulge at his crotch. “In the booth?”

“I’m already barred. Heh. What are they gonna do?”

You smile at him, licking your lips as Cecil bucks up into your hand, his head lolling back against the lip of his seat, and his pretty eyes fluttering closed.

He groans, as your fingers snake to tease open the button at his fly.

“Oops,” Cecil whispers contritely, almost immediately, his cheeks and his ears darkening with a deep crimson flush as he looks over to you. “I just… I…”

Oh God. He just came in his pants, didn’t he? Oh Lord that makes you inexplicably hot.

His big, pretty eyes are wet with apology. “Are you mad?”

“No, Cecil.” Poor baby. “I just think I should take you home and get you cleaned up, hmm?” You next words all run into one, as you struggle to get your new genius plan out of your mouth. “Mayberimyoualittlewhatdoyousay?”

Did you actually just suggest that you take him home to rim him? Good Lord.

He blinks rapidly, the colour in his cheeks flowering more, like a beautiful rose unfurling. “Y-Yes. I say yes.”

It’s a hare-brained plan, for sure, but you decide that for once,

you might as well just…

go with the flow.

It certainly works for Cecil.