#thank you prompt-bearing anon!! I always love it when one of you guys shows up in my inbox

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

Please tell me what you think of this cruel, cruel idea I had--

Whumpee has been Whumper's toy for years now, systematically broken and healed just to be broken again

After Whumper had broken them enough that they would disobey only in the smallest of ways (would cry when told to shut up when the pain got too much, something like that) but wouldn't fight Whumper any longer, they gave Whumpee one small mercy. One item of comfort.

And when Whumper finally tires of them, desiring to truly break someone again?

Whumpee is gifted to someone else. That someone else was told about the comfort item and decides, why should Whumpee have it? It will only make them disobedient.

So what do they do? They use that item against Whumpee. It could be a blanket or pillow, so often cuddled or used to hide in, now used to smother Whumpee or restrain them. A stuffed animal ripped apart and used as a gag. Something made of rock or stone heated and used to burn Whumpee over and over, you get the picture.

And then Whumpee is rescued, maybe even just requested for a visit by their old Whumper. And that Whumper gets to see their former whumpee go from skittish but obedient to absolutely terrified. And when, out of the kindness of their heart, they try to hand Whumpee their comfort item?

They get to hear them scream.

HEY THIS IS SO EVIL I LOVE IT

that stuffed animal one breaks my heart especially😭 I'm hugging my blahaj tight and pretending it's not real 😭(okay but it's so evil I adore it)

but hehe I love love love this kinda evilness!! taking the one small, good thing in whumpee's life and using it against them to the point it's tainted forever to them!! that is the good shit!!

but also it's so mean I would need like. some comfort stuff after this idk give the whumpee a hug?? a new comfort object that's different from the first?? my heart can't take this I'm too soft

anyways. may I add onto this with a list of other ideas :O

If the comfort object is something hard, then throw it at the whumpee!

the first whumper let them listen to some of their favorite music as a comfort? play it while whumpee is being tortured to condition them, and then turn it on whenever so they panic :)

serve the whumpee their favorite food, but poisoned or drugged to give them a bad time!

whumpee has a cozy oversized jacket with too-long sleeves? turn it into a straitjacket!

only let whumpee have their comfort object when whumper is nearby. watching whumpee. maybe taunting them, hurting them, until their comfort object is associated too much with whumper.

also for the post-visit/rescue stuff!!

first whumper is super confused, tries to place it in whumpee's hands. it doesn't go well!

first whumper taunts them once they realize what's going on, laughing at whumpee for being so scared of something they once adored

whumpee is scared that first whumper is going to use their comfort object against them as well

if it's post rescue, caretaker holds their shaking hands, asks them what's wrong, and gives them a nice hug :D

caretaker helping whumpee find a new comfort object!!

whumpee feeling secure that their important and meaningful possessions are safe, and no one's going to use those against them

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 4)

Matt Murdock x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: thank you guys so much for waiting patiently for this!!! (except for that one anon who got an attitude with me for not writing this fast enough for them if you’re reading this, learn some manners) anyways, so glad that i finally finished daredevil, now i just gotta push through the last few defenders shows (and catch up on everything else i’ve missed in the past year. haha. fuck.

prompt:

part 1 part 2 part 3

everything was just so shitty.

you had to hold it together and pretend like your dad was just on a very long work trip

it wasn’t like you didn’t plan for this. i mean, you had a dozen notes in his handwriting ready for any occasion, just in case something unexpected happened

to whom it may concern, i have been hired by a client residing in california for an undisclosed amount of time. i will be leaving my child, y/n murdock, in the care of their godfather, franklin nelson. due to my condition, i have granted mr. nelson legal permission to make decisions on y/n’s behalf if i am ever unable to, including this period in time. if you have any questions, please call. matthew murdock.

you read that page over and over again while foggy shuffled around your dad’s apartment, gathering all of your stuff and anything of your dad’s you’d want to hang onto

“you know, marci is fixing up the guest room to be more…you. i think when you see it you’re gonna love it” -foggy

you were half spaced out trying to wrap your head around everything

and you were still so pissed off

it made foggy feel even more guilty

“i got their father killed. if i didn’t bring him that suit, given him my blessing, he’d still be here to raise his kid” -foggy

“you’re being too hard on yourself, foggy bear. the others made it out, he chose to stay. that’s not on you” -marci

“it doesn’t feel like that. i mean, every time i look at y/n i feel like they blame me” -foggy

“blame you? y/n loves you. you’ve always been there for them and they are well aware of that” -marci

you kind of hated karen for a while

i know it’s harsh, but almost every time you saw her, she wanted to give you hope instead of helping you grieve

“maybe he’s still out there somewhere, sweetie” -karen, attempting an embrace

you just wanted her to ditch your old apartment and let you move on with what you had left

on a more lighthearted note, you’d always been welcome in the nelson family

“y/n! honey, come here! lord, foggy, y/n looks like you’ve been starvin’ them!” -foggy’s mom

“aw, no, uncle foggy’s—” -you

“nonsense, dear. theo! fix your lovely [niece/nephew/nibling] a sandwich!” -momma nelson

“mom—” -foggy

“don’t even start, y/n’s in our kitchen now. the nelson meats kitchen”

you always felt best surrounded by all that love

meanwhile, your father laid in the church you grew up with. and no intention of calling you up

“matthew, your child. where are they?” -sister maggie

“they’re safe, safer than they’ve ever been” -matt

you had your days ever since midland circle’s collapse though

some days you could be okay, just getting by. you knew deep down you’d be losing him soon, and you were well prepared

other days were violent fits of rage and sorrow, punching bags and screaming and crying

and a time or two, you’d do it in front of foggy

“he left me! he left me for her and he didn’t even say goodbye! and i’m supposed to forgive him?! fuck him, he chose to do this to me, he’s a piece of shit and he i’m glad he’s gone!” -you, screaming through sobs in the middle of the night

foggy would grab you so tight and wouldn’t let go until you were calm again

and marci would cry to herself as she listened, not fully able to process all of your emotions

but she tried as best as she could, she just didn’t have the deep bond you and foggy did (but she definitely did everything she could for you)

she’d have lil lunch dates with you, just you two

“foggy tells me you got another 100 on your test? that’s always a good thing, especially in a class as tough as that” -marci

“yeah, foggy’s kind of my cheerleader when it comes to that stuff” -you

“any ideas for the day? i could take you to a salon or a game…maybe an arcade or a movie?” -marci

honestly you couldn’t express to her how much she really helped you get through the day

foggy and theo came up with the idea to hire you at the sandwich shop, that way you had something to keep you busy and foggy felt less pressured to help out there

it did help get your mind off things—until little whispers of a familiar vigilante started popping up

the day foggy found out matt was still alive…he wanted to kill him for you

“you’re back! does karen know? oh, matt, y/n’s gonna be so happy, they—they’ve been so down since it all happened—” -foggy

“slow down, foggy. i’m…not actually back. matt murdock, he’s gone” -matt

foggy started to get very frustrated by matt’s explanation

“hold on just a second here, matt. your child—for months on end—has been grieving the loss of their father, wishing they could have him back. i’ve done everything i can to keep that kid afloat, destroyed myself watching them fall apart…and you’re not even gonna consider seeing y/n?” -foggy, beginning to raise his voice and hit the table

“they’re safer without me. just keep them far away from fisk. please.” -matt

foggy didn’t even want to mention it to you. he felt awful keeping secrets from you, but knowing your father was out there and wouldn’t see you? after sacrificing himself for elektra? you’d be a mess

but it didn’t stay secret for long once you and foggy were questioned together by the FBI

you kept cool about it in front of agent nadeem, playing along just right. but once that door closed

“he’s alive?! he’s alive and you just didn’t tell me?! and he met with you, why the hell hasn’t he seen me yet?!” -you, weakly trying to attack foggy as you began to cry, he pulled you in for a hug

“i’m sorry, kid. i’m so sorry. i don’t have a lot of answers right now” -foggy

“where is he? i want to see him” -you

you knew the moment you saw him you’d unleash hell

matt did feel guilty not reuniting with you, you were his only child and you just experienced the same pain he had as a child, but he kept justifying it as “protecting you” much to the sister’s dismay

and plans were hashed not long after, you were left out of them all and put under marci’s care

chinese takeout and a tv show marathon was a great plan until you both picked up your phones, shocked to see an attack going on where your friends and family were supposed to be

you were terrified, but you saw marci terrified, too. you were there for her the same way she always was for you

things blew over, you got out of the house to clear your head

matt went back to the church, still hellbent on ending all this

“matthew…i think you should see y/n. think of all they’ve been through, to see you again would, well, it would be a blessing” -sister maggie

“i have to keep them as far away from this as i can” -matt

“they won’t get too far, being a murdock and all. it’s not just your nature, it’s the name. that name is being thrown around everywhere, maybe you could do the protecting this once” -maggie

“can’t risk it, especially not after this imposter daredevil is on the loose. no morals, no self control, he’s dangerous” -matt

“matthew, what would you do if your father ended up being alive after believing he was gone for so long?” -maggie

that happened to put things into perspective, just the one question

unfortunately he got a bit sidetracked overhearing the prayers of maggie, his mother

but matt couldn’t run or hide from you anymore, couldn’t demand foggy keep you away

so he showed up at foggy’s apartment, knocking on the door gently as he knew you were the only one home

when you looked through the peephole, you saw a battered version of your dad, nothing changes

but you flung that door open so fast and…punched him in the chest a dozen times

“you—piece of shit—motherfucker—how could you?! i hate you! i hate you! selfish asshole!” -you

he let it happen, he thought it’d make you feel better until you wore yourself out

“where the hell were you?” -you, sobbing

“doesn’t matter, i’m here now” -matt

“no, you aren’t. you always have something else come up. always” -you

what an inconvenient time for his phone to ring

you heard the message, you knew he had to be somewhere

that was the first time you felt in the loop in a while, though. hearing the message of where he needed to be. that was all you wanted, was to know what was going on. it was the tiny bit of control you needed

there was nothing glamorous about this life, for sure. the idea of him being out there still made you sick.

fogwell’s gym was the next place you saw him, with agent nadeem and foggy

“really exciting being on fisk’s shitlist, huh?” -you to nadeem, fidgeting with old equipment

“cut it out, y/n” -matt

“what? this isn’t our first time around the block, that’s why we’re hiding here” -you

it’d been a while since you’d been here, you used to hang out cuz “abandoned shit is cool”

you were currently taking your anger and anxiety out on a punching bag, revisiting your old karate lessons from way back when

*while talking testimony with nadeem and foggy* “that is…so distracting. hang on, let me just—” -matt, stopping when his arm was grabbed

“no, they need this. leave it alone” -foggy

matt sighed an nodded, feeling like he was in no place to parent at the moment

karen decided to stand with you and watch

“so…you were right” -you

“you don’t seem too happy about that” -karen

“believe me, wish i could be. but do you recognize him? like, really?” -you

“i…i know. he’s changed. but maybe once this all blows over…i think he’ll go back to himself. be a friend—a dad again” -karen

“sure as hell not to me” -you, scoffing “he’s done picking and choosing when he can be my father. i was always supposed to come first”

karen understood. she knew exactly what you meant and she felt it so deeply, but she wanted for you what she couldn’t have anymore

you hadn’t stopped hitting the punching bag as you talked to her

“can i get it a whirl?” -karen

she got a few good hits in, they were noticed by present company

from there, you stuck with foggy. the least likely of the bunch to get shot!

and court did not go spectacularly either, making you feel just as on edge as before

“y/n, listen, i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. have they ever gotten to you before? no, and it’s gonna stay that way” -matt, cupping your face in his hands to hold as if it were the last, which it was starting to feel that way for the both of you

“you’re not good at promises. you’re gonna leave again” -you, tears beginning to stream down your face

“no, no. well, yeah, for a little bit. it’s fine, y/n, we’re gonna be fine. i love you, okay?” -matt

foggy took you home and you just shut down again. and although there was a LOT of work to do, marci and foggy always made time for you

“y/n, foggy’s making dinner. you wanna help me make dessert? i’m thinking…cupcakes?” -marci

“do we have the good frosting?” -you

“of course, kiddo, i’d never let us run out” -marci, winking

she got a smile out of you and you rushed to the kitchen with her, which lifted both of their spirits of course

but nothing could be calm forever, bodies dropped every minute and you could only wonder “was that my dad?”

and lord help him, he asked for it every day

especially when, after a few more issues arose, he marched straight into the presidential hotel with faux-daredevil

“you…you keep my secret…keep away from my friends…my kid!” -matt

“heh…your kid. ever think they’re gonna follow in your footsteps? you’ll be long gone, i’ll still be here. with them. maybe they’ll be out for revenge, who knows?” -fisk

“you say anything else, vanessa goes down with you. it’s over, fisk. now swear to me, my kid is safe!” -matt

“i swear…just leave vanessa out of it, i’ll leave y/n out of it” -fisk, surrendering

you were watching the news as it happened, stunned, shocked, in awe. it was better than the last time

“foggy let me drink last time they put fisk away” -you

“jesus, weren’t you like, thirteen?” -marci “i mean, now’s fine, that’s about the age i started partying. what the hell? i’ll get the good stuff out. just a little bit though, dont get your hopes up”

(it was like four “little bits” but you weren’t complaining)

you knew it was coming and you acted surprised anyways

“y/n. i am the shittiest dad in the world” -matt

“well aware” -you, arms crossed after he started the conversation that way

“just another chance. i wanna be your dad, i wanna be there for you, you’re like, the best kid anyone could ask for. foggy’s gotta feel pretty lucky having you around” -matt

“last time i gave you another chance to be in my life, you gave it up for elektra. a second time—third if. you count law school” -you

“she’s gone, out of the picture. died under midland circle” -matt, sort of comically waving her off in front of you like he was over it

“yeah? you survived it. and she came back from the dead. how do i know she isn’t gonna pop up out of nowhere again and ruin our relationship again” -you

“i can’t stress enough how little everything matters compared to you right now. i’ll do anything, y/n. i can’t lose you again” -matt

god, you were angry with every word that came out of this mouth. same old spiel. but then again

“i don’t wanna lose you again” -you

matt grinned at you

“i bet you’re smiling back at me” -matt

“you’re on really thin ice, like paper thin. you better cut it out” -you

“that’s fair, i’ll stop…for now” -matt

you did have to go to father lanthom’s funeral, which was a drag. you may not have asked him for as much forgiveness as your dad, but he was still a pretty big part of your life

“hey, y/n. i know i forgot to mention this…but sister maggie? you know her, she’s around. i just found out she’s your grandmother” -matt

“good one” -you, pretending to laugh. matt didn’t laugh though. “you’re not joking? man, you’re telling me that nun is your mom…and you found out when?”

you all went to nelson’s meats afterwards

“so, you make a mean sandwich, i heard” -matt

“im off the clock” -you “and i don’t serve the blind”

“wow, dark! you know that’s discrimination, right? we could take you to court over that. nelson, murdock and page’s first case?” -foggy

“ok, noted. no more blind jokes…is it sound if i don’t serve vigilantes?” -you

“yeah, it’d hold up better in court. having the right to refuse service to anyone” -matt

“hold on, i still can’t get over the fact y/n just said they hate blind people” -karen, nearly snorting

“did not! i’ve only historically hated to blind people…” -you, being stared at for an answer “stick? right, you know?”

“who?” -karen

“alright, can we get back to mourning with nelson’s meats? i mean, we work hard to bury those sorrows in your stomachs” -foggy

“hey! that can be the new slogan!” -you “and your new law firm’s can be ‘we sue teenagers’”

these happened to be your people. no matter what you all went through, you always ended up back here.

BONUS

“can i meet him? spiderman? pleaaaase?” -you

“how many times have we been over this. i didn’t let you meet jessica and i’m not gonna let you meet peter, do you want me to get disbarred?” -matt

BONUS (PT2)

“you’re coming back to new york, right?” -you, over the phone

“of course i am, i told you i just owed a favor to someone out here, i’ll be home soon” -matt

“foggy says that he will take me back if you bail again, and he doesn’t care if i’m legally an adult either” -you

“well, too bad, he can’t have you” -matt

“please don’t tell me you and the she-hulk lady are quote-unquote, ‘friends’” -you

“how do you do that?” -matt

“you’re predictable” -you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @kik51199 //

[skeletonsweatshirt]

Vander dealing with a drunk customer flirting with his s/o?

HEHEHHEEHE I LOVE JEALOUSY PROMPTS

Vander when a drunk customer hits on his s/o

Vander x gn!reader

Tags: JEALOUS VANDER, protective Vander, just a lil self-indulgent, maybe a lil spicy if you squint hard enough

A/N: I am in love with him and also I love everything jealous and protective so I am on my knees thanking you like you are the lord themself. thankyouthankyouthankyou anon.

I feel like Vander gets so overprotective that he checks with other bartenders and trusted patrons to make sure he's not going insane or overthinking stuff.

But bitch when he figures out that one of the patrons is hitting on his partner, feral cannot even begin to explain what this man feels.

He'll try his best not to go ape shit. He really will. Because in his eyes, violence only gets ugly.

It'll start with him getting really touchy. A hand on your hip, an arm around your shoulders, a kiss maybe. He'll try to show the patron that you're his so they'll back off before he has to keep going.

The next step is words. He'll call you babe or say something flirty. He'll whisper gruffly into your ear.

If that still doesn't work, he'll stick to words, but towards the customer instead of you.

Little statements that are passive-aggressive. Like "Hey, buddy. You know saying things like that to someone isn't very polite. Especially when they're already taken."

Next is usually having them forcibly removed. There are very few times he's gotten physical with someone over you, but if their hands start to wander, he can't promise anything.

His protectiveness is 10x worse if you're oblivious to the situation. If you don't realize that the other party is attempting to court you.

Oh baby if you don't realize and he does, he's ready to throw hands.

He has dragged someone out by the collar and thrown them out into the street.

When he comes back and you look confused, asking why he would do that when they were being friendly, he very calmly explains to you that they were attempting to flirt with you.

Usually, on the nights that you get flirted with when the bar gets less busy, he'll take you to the back and either be all lovey-dovey or make out with you so roughly you don't know what hit you. Just so he can show you you're his and get over any insecurity he might've gotten from the events.

Okay, that's it hehe.

"I don't know why anyone would do something like that to someone so pretty." The customer cooed.

You grinned at the patron. This was one of your regulars, and he always paid you compliments. Of course, now he was visibly drunk, but a compliment is still a compliment, right?

Vander stood at the other side of the bar. He was serving customers, as usual, but when he caught a glimpse of a patron chatting you up in his peripherals, his hands halted. He placed down the glass he was cleaning and turned to the bar back that was coming back from a beer run.

You could only hear Vander's gruff voice, not actually what he said to the employee. You assumed he was just asking for a restock on something. You continued the conversation with your customer, ignoring your partner's words.

After a few minutes and a refill on his drink, you heard heavy steps approach you from behind. One of Vander's strong hands was placed on the small of your back and slid up to your waist.

"Hey, babe." He hummed. His eyes went from you to the customer sitting on the other side of the bar, nursing a half-full glass.

Vander's hand ran up and down your side softly. You were used to his random acts of affection. He was a very lovey guy. Like a giant stuffed bear. It was part of why you loved him so much. He wasn't afraid to just be romantic in front of people.

The customer continued to chat you up and compliment you, despite Vander's presence. His hand floated forward and brushed yours, fingers running over your knuckles. When you peeked over, Vander's expression had noticeably changed.

"Sir, it's not very polite to touch someone without asking them first." He spoke lowly.

"It's okay, Van. He's one of my regulars. I don't mind." You say with a soft smile.

"Yeah, buddy. Buzz off. Don't you have other customers to get to?" The patron spat at your boyfriend.

Vander's eye twitched. His hand fell from your waist and he basically stopped over to the gate separating the bar and the open floor of the Last Drop. He walked out to the other side of the bar and grabbed the man by the bicep without looking down."

"What's your problem, man?" The customer exclaimed.

"My problem is that you don't know your place. Now, you're gonna get up and leave or else it's going to get ugly between us. And trust me, you don't want it to get ugly." Vander spoke in a low voice with an oddly calm smile.

"You can't tell me what to-!" The customer started.

Vander glared daggers at the man from the corner of his eye. "I can. Because not only do I own this bar, but that's also my partner. So you can use your legs and walk away, or I can throw you out. Your pick."

The man groaned and stood up. Vander's hand left his bicep and dropped to his side. "Good choice." He whispered. The patron finished his drink and walked off, presumably to the exit.

Vander returned behind the bar where he cupped your jaw in his hand and kissed the top of your head.

"What did you do that for, love? We were just talking." You questioned.

"He was flirting with you. Very obviously flirting with you." He stated.

His fingers glided under your chin and forced you to look up at him. He made eye contact with you for a number of seconds before he leaned in, kissed you, and walked off to return to his duties.

[sillyrabbit81]

Hi dear

I'm a big fan of your writing, especially the way you write Sy. Love it. If you are still taking prompts, I have one.

How would Henry and his characters react to having an Erectile dysfunction?

I think that topic is not being discussed enough.

🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for the ask Anon. I was having trouble with this ask so I discussed it with @henryobsessed and we worked on it together. To be fair, she did most of it! If you haven’t read any of her work I suggest you visit her blog and take a look at her Masterlist . She is a great friend and has a wonderful perspective and a unique style. I love her!

@henryobsessed here I have to interject and have my say too, I loved this request, it was so much fun finding creative ways to discuss a delicate subject. And for the record I may have done more characters but @sillyrabbit81 wrote more words per character HAHAHA. You are a wonderful Friend and Cavill sister you inspire and push me to be myself and I cannot be more grateful. That being said have fun reading guys 😊

Summary: Situations in which Henry and his characters suffer erectile dysfunctions

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: smut, masturbation (m), oral sex (m and f receiving), anal play, p in v sex, bad medical advice, incorrect use of prescription medication, bodily fluids, period sex, drunk sex, Dom/sub relationship, descriptions of violence and death,

Masterlist

Erectile Dysfunction Headcanon

Henry Cavill

Henry had been filming for months and now he was headed home for a week’s break. You sat there waiting in the tinted people mover, as Henry was ushered to the car. Lights blinded you as the door opened, he climbed in, and smiling a weary grin, he pulled you into a big bear hug. He missed you so much.

That night, he fell into your arms in a passionate embrace. You had both craved each other, missing one another’s touch. As the night progressed, you noticed things were different. For the first forty minutes you were ecstatic, he had bought you to orgasm three times. Your body was super sensitive, but every time he seemed to be close himself, the phone would ring, indicating someone needed him. You had switched it off after an hour, having enough, and wanting his undivided attention.

Henry had managed to stay hard, but after an hour and a half, it was beginning to be painful for you, and he seemed no closer. Eventually, he flopped beside you, drained from the physical exertion.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like I’m right there, but I can’t let go.”

You brought him into your arms, and caressing his back said, “Don’t worry love. It will be ok. Just give yourself a day, and maybe we can shut your phone off. I think the stress it is causing you might be a big part of the problem.”

He huffed at the thought. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe.” He sighed and soon you heard soft snores spilling from his lips.

Walter Marshall

It had been a long day, scratch that a long month. Walter had been working day and night to catch a serial killer. That night as he came home, he couldn’t forget the latest victim. What they had found had turned his stomach. In all the years he had been on the force, nothing could have prepared him for what they found that night.

Arriving home he collapsed on the bed, he was so physically exhausted, and for once sleep immediately consumed him. He woke nearly twelve hours later to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. He groaned; he had forgotten it was his two-year anniversary with you. Walking into the bathroom he washed his face, staring at the blood shot eyes reflected back at him.

“Come on man, get it together. You promised her,” Walter tried to fire himself up. It was no use, he was spent. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen wrapped his arms around you and breathed in the soft floral scent in your hair. For the first time in days, he felt a spark within himself, and although the horrific images still played on his mind, he felt a slight peace. He kissed your head, relieved, something could still reach him, something was still good. “Happy anniversary, love,” he growled.

After a wonderful breakfast, Walter sat on the couch with you and the two of you cuddled while watching a movie. His eyes kept sliding shut, his exhaustion made worse by his full belly. His fatigue became even more apparent when after reaching your hand beneath the blanket, you could not bring his flaccid muscle to attention.

Normally this situation would turn heated quickly, you had a way with your tongue that often had him begging for more. But Walter couldn’t get rid of the images in his mind, the battered and dismembered bodies, and the fact they were no closer to catching the killer weighed most heavily on his thoughts.

After half an hour of you trying to arouse him, Walter said in a resigned voice, “Sorry love, I don’t think I can.” With eyes that spoke of immense pain he looked at you and asked, “Could we please just cuddle? I think I need that more than anything right now.” In that moment he knew you were the one for him. He had expected huffing or crying because you thought you weren’t good enough or you asking him to please you. Instead, you had adjusted your position, so he was tucked into your body, holding him close while your hand stroked his curls.

A calm filled his soul as you whispered, “I am here for whatever you need my love. Rest now.”

Captain Syverson

You were just about to turn the light off and go to sleep when you heard the front door open with a crash and heard a rough curse. You grin, Sy was home and wasn’t sober. You knew what that meant, rough, wild, primal fucking. You quickly turn the light off and hide under the covers, well acquainted with the game, you knew how to play your part.

“Where are ya, woman?” Sy’s voice boomed at your bedroom door. “Don’t think you can hide from me. I’m hungry!”

You peek out from under the blanket, Sy had turned the light on again and was quickly undressing. You lick your lips, watching your big furry ox as he dropped his jeans, and his cock was revealed already on its way to being hard. Turning suddenly, he saw you, and you yelped covering your face again. “I see you woman, don’t play shy!” You giggle nervously, excited, your core already dampening with arousal.

Sy pulls the covers back and smirks as he sees you’re already naked waiting for him, “You’re a cheeky little thing ain’tcha?” You bite your lip, opening your legs slightly, inviting him in. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you down the bed and gets on his knees. A low growl emanates from his throat before he dives between your legs feasting on you with an eagerness that brings you swiftly to your peak.

Licking at his lips and sucking on his glistening whiskers, he stands up pumping his cock getting it ready. Your brows pull together, puzzled, he’s always hard when he eats you out. You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s soon ready. Sy flips you onto your knees before he enters and begins his assault on your core.

Something is wrong though, you can feel him falling out of you. Did he cum already? Sy mumbles curses, pulling out and you turn around and see him fisting himself again as he slips his fingers inside you. In a few moments he is hard again, removing his fingers and replacing it with his cock. You sigh, relieved, as he builds his rhythm, and you hear him start to groan. But soon, it happens again, and try as he might he just can’t stay hard.

“Fuck,” Sy growls. You turn around and see the look on his face, a mix of frustration and embarrassment that melts your heart. “I think I drank too much Sugar,” he says, running his hand over his short hair. “Fuck. This hasn’t happened… Fuck!”

“Hey!” you say sharply to get his attention.

“What?” Sy replies just as sharply, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It’s fine, Baby,” you assure him. You see him jut his jaw and you reach up and cup his cheeks, making him look at you. “It’s ok. You’re just a little too drunk,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “It happens.”

“Not to me it don’t.”

“It’s not forever,” you say. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m sure it’ll be back normal in the morning.” You kiss him again and pull his head down to whisper in his ear, “maybe you could wake me up like you did last week.” You pull back and smirk raising your eyebrows.

Sy grins, still a little sheepish, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes again, “You’re a good thing, Sugar.” He kisses your forehead and says, “I love you.”

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt had never in his life had this happen before. The bar maid who had eagerly agreed to keep his bed warm on this cold winter’s night, gaped in confusion.

How could it be? She thought, All the myths about Witcher’s said they were virile and could last most of the night. She had been consumed with the thought ever since The White Wolf had arrived in the area and was quick to accept his offer to take her to his bed. She was bitterly disappointed and pouted at Geralt. Her sweet, plump lips alone should have been enough to make his cock stand, but tonight it lay unmoving, and useless.

That blasted sorcerer, it must have been him who had cast a curse on Geralt. It could be the only explanation for his inadequate showing. Looking at the poor wench beside him, Geralt pitied her. She had been most eager to satisfy his needs tonight, giving a valiant effort to arouse him. No matter, he had other ways to enjoy bringing her to the height of pleasure. Granted he didn’t normally concern himself with their needs as his own normally coincided with theirs. But tonight, his fingers, and tongue would be adequate until he broke the curse and returned to give her what she truly deserved.

Mike

The party had been epic, the drinks flowed, pot was smoked in abundance and Mike had managed to capture the attentions of a wonderful long legged blonde beauty. She helped him back to her apartment and his heart rate raised as she slowly stripped him, leaving him in all his naked glory. Laying on the bed he watched as she did a strip tease for him, her perky breasts bouncing as she jiggled her ample peach in his face.

But something was wrong, the situation was right, she was right but… he held his hand out to the two or was it three beauties before him. One took his hand as he guided her to sit in his lap. He caressed her as they kissed, his tongue violating her mouth with as much enthusiasm as his inebriated self could manage. Even with her grinding against him nothing happened.

“Shit” he swore.

The girl frowned and her lips seemed to move in twisted patterns which stilled again before she snickered. An evil cackle reverberated in her throat and her face twisted into that of a demented creature. “Can’t get it up, boy?” she taunted as she continued to laugh. She collected his clothes and managed to push him out of her bedroom and into the night. Standing in the cold with only his briefs covering his body, he stumbled as he began his walk of shame home.

August Walker

August Walker was hands down, far and away, the greatest lover you have ever had. He was the only man who had ever been able to keep up with you, your average session lasting for four hours. He was able to cum and get hard again faster than any guy you had ever been with too.

But being with August meant following The Rules. There were many Rules, rules which governed how you would dress when you saw him, how you were groomed, how you were to address him and when you could contact him. There were punishments too, but you had been a good girl, never broken any of his rules, so you never gave the punishments a thought.

One of the many Rules was absolutely no snooping. He said it was for your protection as much for his privacy. You didn’t know exactly how August made his money, but you assumed it had to be from some sort of illegal activity. So, you obeyed this rule as you did the others until one evening after a marathon session, you realised you got your period. You were shocked August hadn’t said anything, clearly he had continued to fuck you while you were bleeding. You started opening his bathroom cupboards searching for a tampon or pad or something, hoping you wouldn’t have to stuff your panties with toilet paper until you got home.

You opened the cupboard behind the mirror and were surprised to see a pill bottle with little blue tablets. You recognised them and after checking the label and confirming it you were speechless. August used Viagra? But, it didn’t seem possible that he would need it, his stamina was out of this world… unless…

“What do you think you are doing Petal?” August said from the doorway, a box of tampons and a towel was in his hands.

Quickly recovering your senses, you grabbed the box and towel out of his hands and kissed his cheek saying, “Looking for those. Thank you, August.”

Quicker than you thought possible you were bent over the counter, cheek pushed into the stone benchtop. “You found my pills,” August said coldly. Leaning his body over yours, his weight pushed down on you, holding you in place as he kicked your legs apart. You muffled a cry as you felt him hard again against your ass. “I don’t need them, for most women, Petal. But for particularly slutty, insatiable, cock hungry brats such as yourself, it’s a necessary assistance.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” you murmured, hoping he would take pity on you. Tears welled in your eyes as his finger pressed against your ass, forcing your tight muscles apart and you cried as he entered you. “I’m sorry, August.”

“My dear sweet, Pet,” August grunted as he violated you with a second finger. “If you aren’t sorry now, you will be.”

Napoleon Solo

Napoleon had been watching the siren from a distance all night. Her lithe body commanded all around to her attention. After she finished singing her call to the night goddess, he made his move. Two drinks in hand he set his sights and went in for the kill.

The two danced, drank and now were in her apartment, laid out on her bed he was happily pleasing her, mouth buried between her delicious thighs. His tongue flicked expertly over her button bringing her to climax, exciting his body, he climbed forward and for the first time that night claimed her lips. They kissed passionately until something changed, his mind grew foggy, and his cock deflated.

“Aww, is the great Casanova having trouble?” she laughed her sweet siren song changing to a bitter retort. His confused eyes tried to fix on hers as she began to distort, her last words filling his gut with fear. “Don’t worry love. I’ll take good care of you Napoleon Solo.”

Clark Kent

Clark was in college and his new friend Tommy was egging him on to take Crystal out for a date. He couldn’t understand why the cheerleader wanted to take him out. He wasn’t anything special as far as she knew, but she had been flirting with him all week.

Dinner was nice and Clark was surprised when Crystal suggested they return to her share house for dessert. Nervous as he was around her, he was pleased when after ice cream he had allowed her to talk him into a make out session in her room. They had only been in the room a few moments when he had felt strange. They had been kissing, it was enjoyable, but his stomach had begun to feel off and he felt unusually tired and weak.

The more they kissed the more frustrated he was to realise he wasn’t getting a rise out of his little friend. He noticed a pendant hanging on the wall near her bed, the green stone glowed eerily at him giving him a bad vibe. After a few more moments he politely excused himself, saying he must have eaten something off. Clarke murmured apologies and gave promises that he would call her and he left. Strangely, by the time he left her house he felt better, as if he had never felt ill at all. He was only a little upset that he had ruined his chances with Crystal, something about that pendant made him hope he would never see it again.

Charles Brandon

Charles sat in the apothecary rooms, wondering what he had gotten himself in for. The King had recommended him when Charles confided in his friend of his problem.

“So young man, why are you here?” the old man asked, his face kind but stern.

“Well, I’ve been having trouble, when I pee it burns and well, I can get an erection, but it deflates quickly and sometimes I cannot get one at all. I’m also having abdominal pain.”

The old man chuckled. After examining the affected area, he turned to his wall of potions. Pulling together some salves, and powdered herbs he turned to address the Charles. “Here, rub this on the affected area twice a day, and drink this tea three times a day.” The apothecary paused and said with a grin, “And finally, give the ladies from court a rest for a bit, you will regain your vigour again.”

Shame and chagrin filled Charles as he pulled his coverings back over his privates. Taking the medicines, he snuck out of the room trusting that no one saw him, and hoping against all hope, that this would work.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock sits back in satisfaction, marvelling at his new invention. Based on some literature he read from the America’s he perfected the design and made it fit himself perfectly.

Having commissioned the glass tube and rubber attachments, the contraption worked by winding a small handle, creating the necessary suction to create a vacuum, pooling enough blood into his cock to make it erect. By placing a rubber ring at the base of his shaft, he found he was able to maintain an erection for approximately thirty minutes. He could even bring himself to orgasm by his own hand.

It really was a delightful invention. Now, he just had to find that little vixen of a maid and see if it worked with her too. Perhaps he should try and use her mouth first.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[ataraxiies]

✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦ heartwarming things hq boys do pt. 2

▐ part one▐ part two▐ part three 

synopsis: mini headcanons that show how the hq boys are total sweethearts for their s/o

★˚｡ — ⌇ characters: bokuto koutarou, meian shugo, matsukawa issei, ushijima wakatoshi, osamu miya, aone takanobu

★˚｡ — ⌇ genre: fluff

★˚｡ — ⌇ warnings: n/a

★˚｡ — ⌇ author’s note: i just had to do part two because all hq boys can be sweethearts! 🙈 thank you to the anon for the chara suggestions~ also, bear with me, ik part two/sequels are never as good as part one/the original one. ╥﹏╥

✶▐ bokuto koutarou ↝ this precious boy is such a goofball at heart, but like such an emotionally intelligent goofball who will love you like a puppy would? right? he’s definitely the type to dance with you in the kitchen without a care in the world. and you better believe that it becomes somewhat of a ritual for you and him to have these impromptu “dance parties”. with the music blasting and him twirling you, all the while grinning & letting out laughs of unadulterated joy, he never fails to treat you like his number one & draw out your own silly side. if your neighbors complain, no worries; bokuto handles it so well to the point you don’t have to be self-conscious of you two enjoying each other’s company!

✶▐ meian shugo ↝ being 6′5 (196 cm), it’s an unfortunate fact not much will accommodate meian’s size, and so, pajamas and even blankets end up being kind of small or short on him. but then- enter you, the perfect size for him to forever act as a cuddle monster towards ! as someone who probably lives for snuggles, meian will wrap his large arms around you and hold you snugly against his body for much needed warmth. and honestly, he will do this whenever you two sleep . . . but ! if you even give the slightest indication you want soft cuddles now and not later, meian will pounce you (not literally ofc) & give you all the cuddles you need within a heartbeat. just being so close with you makes him so happy, he just doesn’t have the words for it, and he genuinely hopes that applies to you, too.

✶▐ matsukawa issei ↝ there is not a shadow of doubt in my mind when i say matsukawa issei’s the type who pokes and tickles you when he senses you’re even a little bit upset or annoyed. even if you flash him the biggest unamused scowl, he just wears this unreadable look as he once again pokes your side, attempting to tickle your irritability out of you. like, he just wants you to crack a smile for him, doll. though, it’s kind of surreal how very patient matsukawa is with you?? you’ll catch on rather quickly that not much can truly faze him, and if there’s one thing you should really know, it’s he will always be there for you even if you’re at your lowest and or your worst.

✶▐ ushijima wakatoshi ↝ ushijima. really. enjoys. just. booping. your. nose. and he can’t really explain it?? just something about you just makes him want to do so. he’s not a very touchy-feely kind of guy, but he truly does relish in the pleasant feeling he gets when you tilt your head & shoot him a puzzled look due to wondering what prompted him to boop your nose out of the blue. he cracks a small smile just thinking of that curious expression you wear; you’re just too adorable for him, and he makes a mental note to tell that to you soon. anyway- in all honesty, him booping your nose is simply one of his habits he picks up on as your boyfriend- call it a small gesture of affection if you will.

✶▐ osamu miya ↝ i am convinced osamu is as touch-starved as his twin brother if not more so. and in this conclusion, osamu has this natural penchant of pulling you onto his lap, and simply wrapping his arms around you securely and protectively. he’ll gently lay his head on your shoulder as he essentially recharges with you being in such close proximity to him. honestly, this happens at the most random of times, and he doesn’t offer you much of an explanation either?? it just clicks in his mind that you and him need to recharge cuddle now. so, he just pulls you into that position, and only then does he let out a soft sigh as he melts into your touch. it honestly becomes one of your go-to cuddle positions, and you can’t help but love your childish boyfie, who truly just wants your affection.

✶▐ aone takanobu ↝ aone is excessively gentle with you. unlike with how he is with his teammates, he’s constantly worried about hurting you unintentionally. you’re just so precious to him that he wouldn’t forgive himself if he did that to you. and so, you find that even in his most protective & perhaps even needy hugs, he holds back his strength because he just can’t bear to think he could end up crushing you in such a simple act of affection, such as a hug! it’s gotten to the point that it if you two hold hands, you barely feel his warmth because he’s so worried about underestimating his strength. suffice to say, it may take awhile for you to fully convince him you’re not as fragile as he may think, but at least his thoughtfulness for you is endearing!

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count:  ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

**

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

Tag list:  @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic​  @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl

[gubler-me-up]

Perfectionism

Request: HELLOO, I’ve had an idea for literally months in my head but I wouldn’t be able to write it as good as you 🥺 Would you mind doing a Spencer reaction to his crush having bad body dysmorphia that they’ve been hiding from the team (they’re working for bau) but at a case or smn someone they’re interviewing comments negatively on their body and they break down once they think they’re alone? But Spence sees and reaches out and it’s really wholesome and soft? I’m a sucker for angsty fluff I’m sorry 😔

A/N: Thanks for the prompt anon, much appreciated! I hope this does justice to your well thought-out idea. I hope it satisfies all your angsty fluff needs! Side note, to everyone of my followers/readers I hope you know you’re beautiful and finding love/happiness within yourself takes time, but trust the process, loves ❤️ Enjoy! 

Category: Angsty fluff

Content warning: Swearing, mention of violence, self degradation

Word count: 2.3k

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

You stood in front of the mirror inside the police department’s washroom. You finished applying another thick layer of foundation on your face. You knew applying this much makeup to your face wasn’t good. Your dermatologist even recommended against it and advised you to let your skin breathe for a while to prevent over clogging your pores. He didn’t understand the problem of doing that though.

Without the concealer masking the dark circles under your eyes, you’d probably look dead. Maybe even worse. Without the foundation, your acne and healing acne scars would definitely bring unwanted attention to your face. It was certain to happen.

You had to wear them all the time, especially at work. You thought of how JJ probably never had to go through this. Her face was free of any sort of marks or blemishes. She always looked alive with her bright blue eyes with no heavy bags insight. No wonder Spencer had a crush on her a few years back.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of your phone on the bathroom counter. You looked down to see Spencer’s name pop up informing you it was time to interview the suspect. A sigh left your mouth as you started packing up your products into your travel beauty kit.

As you walked out of the door, you noticed Spencer at the end of the poorly lit hall leading back out to the main lobby. When he noticed you were walking down the hall towards him, he smiled and waved. Sometimes you thought he was the cutest genius in the world.

“Hey, didn’t know you were waiting for me,” you said.

He shrugged. “Thought it would be nice for us to walk to the interview room together.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He nodded as you both started walking towards the interview room. You couldn’t help noticing he kept on looking at you. Especially your face. What if he saw your acne scars? Or even the acne itself? What if he was just noticing how strange your face looked?

You stopped walking. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

He stopped walking as well as he gave you a questionable look. “What?”

“Is there a reason you keep looking at my face?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No, no reason, I just-”

“You just what?” You said before he even finished his sentence.

Spencer was taken back by your tone. Your words made it seem as if he was attacking you. You could tell from his confused facial expression. Before he could get a chance to pull his words together, you started walking again.

“Forget it. Let’s just focus on this interview.”

Spencer watched as you walked by him. He trailed behind you, trying his best not to say anything else. You knew you shouldn’t have snapped at him the way you did, but you couldn’t bear the possibility of him pointing out a flaw. You just knew he could see everything you tried so hard to hide.

As you two reached the interview room door you felt Spencer gently grab your arm. You turned to him to see how concerned he looked. Before you said anything he made sure to get the first few words out.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable back there. Whatever’s troubling you I’m here to help you get through it,” he assured you.

You smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate you, Spence. For now, let’s put what happened behind us for now and go interview this guy.”

Reid smiled as he gently squeezed your arm before letting you go. It felt nice having him reassure you, but he didn’t even know what he was reassuring you about. Maybe he didn’t notice your facial imperfections at all. Maybe he was genuinely admiring your face.

You opened up the interview room to see a dark-haired, middle-aged, white man sitting across the table. He was well put together with a buttoned-up blue shirt, black tie and his hair was slicked back. Physically he matched the profile perfectly. He looked as if he exuded arrogance as your profile detected the unsure would be like. He tried to keep a cool and emotionless demeanour, but by his furrowed eyebrows and wrinkling forehead, he was becoming impatient.

“Hello, I’m agent Y/N Y/L/N and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Adam Boyer, correct?” You said as you and Spencer took your seats.

“Glad you can read documents, agent,” he scoffed.

“I wouldn’t get so smart-mouthed yet, Boyer. According to some sketchy transactions between you, John McNeil and Robert Morrison it seems as if you have a lot to hide for someone so vocal,” you said.

He squinted his eyes at you. “What does this even have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but those two men are dead. You were the last person to contact both of them the day they died. A transaction of over half a million dollars goes missing and you get mad and-“

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, agent, but I didn’t murder my colleagues over money. My company makes more than that in a day, so spare me of your pathetic accusations.”

Before you could reply, Spencer jumped in to level out the tension between you and Boyer. He opened a file on the desk and pointed to a bank statement.

“It says here on your financial records your company is $1.5 million dollars in debt. We discovered Robert Morrison and John McNeil both gave you back their shares of the company to equate $500,000, which is legally a breach in the company’s contract for workers, including yourself, to share, distribute or give away company shares without a reasonable cause. According to the list of reasonable cause you failed to mention bankruptcy or were too arrogant at the time to force something like that happening to you,” Spencer said.

With everything he said, you could tell Boyer’s cool exterior was wearing off. He looked glossier in the face, started fidgeting with his tie and refused to look directly at Spencer. He decided to direct his attention to you instead.

“Well, isn’t that a huge mistake on my part, ain’t it?” He asked directly to you.

“Huge mistake or huge flaw in your plan of getting away with murdering your colleagues? I think it’s the second one, Boyer,” you said.

He leaned back in his chair without breaking any eye contact with you. He folded his hand in front of his chest. You had to admit he made your feel a bit uncomfortable.

“What else do you think?” He asked.

“I think you murdered your colleagues when they found out you had taken back their share of the company to pay back your debts. They would have ratted you out, got you fired from your own company or even worse, the whole company would have shut down and you’d have nothing left.”

“Nothing left,” Boyer said seemingly to himself.

“Yes, absolutely nothing. Your wife divorced you, took full custody of your two boys and now you spend your days throwing your money-approximately $1.5 million dollars-on trying to buy love from escorts,” you said.

It was as if something had woken up inside of him as he almost pounced across the table. Both you and Spencer got out of your seats with Spencer using his arm to block the front of you. It was as if it was a natural instinct for him to protect you before bracing himself.

“Sit down,” Spencer demanded.

“At least I have escorts willing to ride my dick. You couldn’t even pay a male stripper to look at that face of yours. Where’s the pretty agent who was in here before? If I’m going to be accused of a crime, I’d rather be accused by someone half decent looking. Get my fucking lawyer on the phone,” he proceeded to yell.

Though you shouldn’t have felt as bad as you did by the words he said, you did. The blunt force in his voice was vicious. The way he looked at you in disgust. His disgust was too real. He was bold enough to look at you the way everyone wanted to, but was too cautious to do it in front of your face.

“I’ll get your lawyer on the phone, you psycho,” you whispered before turning around to leave.

“Don’t forget to bring the real eye candy in as well, sweetheart,” he said.

You didn’t bother looking back at him or even Spencer. You felt your eyes get heavy with tears and knew it would be terrible to show weakness to such a vile suspect. You rushed out of the room before Spencer could stop you or even follow you close behind.

You rushed towards the washroom as your tears were at the brim of your eyes. As you reached the door, you paused. What if someone was in there? What if Emily or JJ saw you crying? You retracted your steps and decided to go to the family washroom instead.

You didn’t even wait until the door was fully closed before letting out your tears. You heavily wept to yourself as you replayed everything he had said to you. Spencer probably stood there agreeing with everything he said, word for word. Your face being hideous, JJ’s beauty surpassing the little you had, no one wanting you. You backed up against the wall to avoid the mirror, to avoid the disgusting reflection in the mirror.

The only reason you looked up was that you heard the washroom door open. You saw Spencer peak in. When he saw the tears running down your face, he didn’t hesitate to go over to you with concern written all over his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I hope he didn’t get to you,” he said as he reached out his hands.

You assumed he was going to try to wipe the tears from your face, so you pushed away his hands. You couldn’t stand the thought of him touching your face if he thought it was hideous. You didn’t even want him looking at you directly. You looked down to avoid your face being in the presence of his.

He attempted to lift your head up by placing his hand on your chin. You flinched at his touch and moved your head out of his grasp. New tears started to spill from your eyes as you looked at him with despair.

“Can you stop, Spencer?” You wept.

He looked at you confused. “Stop what?”

“Looking at me. I know my face is ugly, okay? Everyone knows and it’s just degrading for you to pretend not to notice,” you snapped at him.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with your face.”

“Spencer, I know you see it. My acne and acne scars. It doesn’t help that my face is always shiny and my cheeks are chubby. You don’t have to pretend to be blind to it for the sake of my feelings.”

“You thought I was looking at you earlier because you think I think you’re ugly? Y/N that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then why were you looking at me? Be honest.”

“Because I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Ugh, Spencer, you don-”

He grabbed both your hands in his big ones, grasping them tightly. You looked down at your hands in his and then looked up into his eyes. He looked longingly at you. You could see the genuine look of love in his face.

“Y/N, I know what you’re going through. Body dysmorphia’s not an easy thing to fight off by yourself, but I want to assure you every day that I think you’re the most beautiful person I know; both inside and out.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt round three of tears coming to your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t think of a moment you felt genuinely pretty. His words could move mountains.

“But if Adam Boyer could-”

“Please don’t let a psychopath make you feel unsure of yourself. He only belittled you because he lost control of the situation and decided to target you. His idea of a perfect girl is someone he can dominate, which makes him disgusting not you.”

He let go of your right hand as he wiped away a tear making its way down your face. You grasped his left hand hard as he touched your face. It still made you feel uncomfortable, but you were happy Spencer cared deeply for you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched your face if you’re not comfortable with that yet. I know it takes time to breakdown this idea of what perfect is especially with so many beauty standards being pushed by society, but I’ll be here to help you realize you’re the most beautiful you. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way,” he said.

You smiled at his words as you wiped away the few stray tears running down your face. You had to admit you liked it better when he did it. You leaned your head back, took a deep breath, let it out and then looked at Spencer.

“Thank you for being you. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way as well,” you said.

He smiled. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. If you want me to be that is.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Maybe after we’re done with this case we can do something together to help you remember the beautiful person you are.”

“I’d love that.”

You both walked towards the washroom door. Spencer made sure not to let go of your hand until you two left the washroom. You felt as if he wanted you to grasp onto the positive energy he had for you. You felt uplifted in a way. This must be the benefit of the Spencer Reid effect.

—–

MASTERLIST

[faulty-writes]

A scenario where Tamaki's been trying to confess to his crush for literal MONTHS but just can't ever get it out. Since his voice doesn't work around reader he decides to write a letter, penning down his innermost passions and it ends up being REALLY long with flowery Helga Pataki-esque descriptions of his feelings. But he ends up EATING the paper to prevent reader from seeing it when yn almost sees it. Later that dayduring training, his quirk manifest forces him to say everything he wrote aloud.

[ Finally your girl posts something after forever. Sorry guys! Life has been a bit crazy, I got obsessed with a couple role play groups, and of course, school. But, I’ll try to be better with my blog. I hope you all enjoy this Tamaki piece, thank you for the request dear anon! I thought this idea was a very unique take on Tamaki’s quirk. ] 

There you go again. His eyes locked on your every move as you walked through the hallway, your friends by your side, and you were laughing and smiling. Making his heart accelerate and his cheeks flush as always. It was true, Tamaki Amajiki. One of the members that made up The Big Three, had fallen for you. Unfortunately, despite trying to confess to you countless times. 

It did no good. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was thinking. He’d always be nervous when he approached you, cheeks red, and that stutter of his present. Even when he did finally manage to speak, he’d find his tongue felt like it was swollen, then he’d get more embarrassed and panic. Despite the fact, you would always ask him what’s wrong or if he needed help. 

The fact is, he was nothing but a coward. He’d turn and run which didn’t help much with his confidence considering he knew that you probably thought he was some kind of a freak. But, he had to tell you how he felt. He couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you with someone else which might sound selfish. He knew it was selfish but, he didn’t care. He wanted you all to himself and for once, maybe he deserved what he wanted. 

But, he didn’t know how to tell you. How could he reveal his feelings to you without looking silly or fearing rejection? There was only one person he thought of asking, “Well!” Nejire’s voice was as bright and cheery as ever as they sat outside a cafe. Nejire had insisted because they had good lattes and Tamaki was never one to argue. 

She smiled as she reached over to place her hand over his, the warmth and comfort from that gentle touch put him at ease for the moment. But, still, he needed an answer on what to do and eagerly waited to hear what Nejire had to say. “If you ask me, nothing says I love you more than the words of a love letter!” Tamaki’s expression completely dropped, his eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“W-What?” he questioned, he could already feel his stomach twist. That nauseous feeling of butterflies beginning to bother him, his cheeks grew unusually hot and he shook his head. “I c-can’t d-do that!” he stuttered out as his free hand tightened around the styrofoam cup he held. Nejire looked at him with a cross expression. 

“They don’t have to know who it’s from silly!” she half scolded, “Besides maybe it’ll help you sort out what you really want to say to them!” she suggested with a bright smile that made Tamaki groan in response. “I c-can’t! T-That’s so e-embarrassing and w-what if t-they find out the l-letter was f-from me!? W-What am I s-supposed to do?! W-What am I supposed t-to say?” he questioned and Nejire shook her head before slowly getting up from her seat. 

“Well duh!” she said before reaching over to lightly knock on Tamaki’s head, something that caught his attention but also made him flinch. He leaned back with a present frown on his face, “D-Duh what?” he asked, growing a little scared as she leaned over. He didn’t exactly like that smile on her face. “Then you have nothing left to hide,” she concluded as she reached up to boop his nose which made him wiggle it in response. 

He then looked down, nervous eyes shifting back and forth, “I...I d-don’t know,” he said which had Nejire sighing and she placed her hands on her hips. “Just start with the love letter and see where it goes from there, you may not believe it Amajiki, but you’re pretty brave when you’re determined,” she said before patting his shoulder. “Don’t forget that,” she said, smiling yet again before she walked away. 

Leaving him sitting there alone, his body hunched over the table as a gentle breeze came to ruffle his hair. Should he try to write you a love letter? Sure it sounded easy, but what if he got nervous and ended up writing the wrong thing? Was there a right or wrong way to write something as personal as a love letter? Your feelings across paper? Well, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So he purchased a notebook and pen and began to get to work, at first he found it rather difficult. His words were sloppy and lacking the meaningful nature he wanted them to. But, on occasion, this would change. Especially when he saw you in the hallway or in class, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of inspiration and would always write the words that screamed from his heart when he was near your presence. 

He often rewrote the confessions he had, longing for them to be perfect. He was almost finished with what he believed to be the perfect love letter and though he was still unsure how he’d give it to you. He was currently sitting in the library, body hunched over the table as he neared the end of his letter. All that was left were those three big words, the words he was too shy to speak. 

But, the ones that he longed to scream from the top of his lungs, the ones that could only be used to summarize how he felt about you. His pen continued to glide across the lined paper, prepared to write ‘I love you’ before he jumped. You had noticed Tamaki around and while you knew he was a member of The Big Three, you had never actually had a full conversation with him. 

Though you had class together and on occasion, you got the chance to fight side by side with him. He was amazing and you admired him for the heroism he showed, it was almost silly to think he was the same shy boy you saw roaming through the halls. You had always wanted to try and become friends with him, given you knew from past experience he tended to stutter and honestly couldn’t hold up a conversation. 

Still, you were determined to try. Of course, you hadn’t expected him to jump when you spotted him in the library and decided to walk over. You noticed he was writing something and couldn’t help but try and sneak a peek at it, looked pretty serious. You blinked before lowering your mouth to his adorable elf-like ear. “Hi Amajiki-san!” the cry that left his mouth ended up scaring you and without thinking. 

You stumbled back and watched as his head turned, those precious indigo-colored eyes wide and fearful and his cheeks dusted over a faint red. “Y-Y/n!?” he exclaimed before pulling the notebook to his chest, fingers securely grasping it. Hiding the written evidence of his feelings for you, despite you having no knowledge of his feelings for you in the first place or how he was trying to convey them through written words. 

You did, however, know he was hiding something and couldn’t help but smirk. “Hm?” you raised your hand, pointing a finger at the notebook. “What are you trying to hide there, Amajiki-san?” you questioned as you took a step closer, reaching out to grab his upper arm. You tugged on his sleeve and Tamaki let out a soft whine. “N-Nothing! I-It’s nothing!” he stuttered out, feeling his stomach twist into knots. 

He hoped he wouldn’t get nauseous, you were so close. You were touching him! “Oh? If it’s nothing then why are you hiding it?” you questioned in a teasing manner as you took a firmer grip and yanked his arm away. “Show me, I’m curious! Is it a project? Essay?!” the questions left your mouth in an excited manner. “I-It’s not uh, h-hey!” you had reached over and snatched the notebook away. 

“Oh boo, let me at least proofread it for you,” Tamaki’s stomach flipped upside down and his hand was clutching his chest, twisting the fabric of the signature red tie of his school uniform. He couldn't let you read it! He’d die! But there you were, holding his notebook with his dedicated words of love scribbled across it. “Now then,” you turned your attention to the notebook, about to read the first line just as the sound of a chair falling came. 

You jumped and turned to look but before you could react you felt a strong hand around your wrist. “Amajiki-san!” you exclaimed, prepared to activate your quirk or at least find your way out of his grip. But then, another noise echoed through the air. Your attention shifted back to the notebook and your jaw dropped as you realized he had ripped out the single page you were trying to read.

“Amajiki!” you scolded again, “S-Sorry! B-But you c-can’t see t-this!” he said as he proceeded to crumble the paper into a ball. You looked at him bewildered as he then shoved said ball into his mouth. “Uh…” was the only sound that managed to come out of your mouth as you watched him chew and proceed to swallow the paper. You blinked, lowering the notebook. 

Jaw hanging open in absolute awe at what you had just witnessed. Tamaki on the other hand had an itchy throat, and when the crumbled paper reached his stomach. He felt a small ache, which prompted him to place a hand over his stomach. His face was completely red, all the way to the pointy tips of his ears. “G-God, that w-was e-embarrassing u-uh…” he couldn’t even bear to look at you. 

He did, however, reach out to snatch his notebook back. The action caused you to gasp and you took a step back, your mind still trying to process what had just occurred. Damn, was it that much of a secret he had to eat it? What sense did that make? Still, you watched as he took the notebook and put everything into his backpack before scurrying away. Strange. 

You knew you’d see him in just a few moments, given you had class and hero training together. But, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to see him after he pulled such a strange stunt. “Uh...okay, bye then?” you said, clearly still confused despite the fact he was long gone. You placed your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, wonder if I’ll see anything stranger than that today,” you shrugged and exited the library. 

It was almost a nightmare trying to sit through class, much less pay attention to the lesson. It didn’t help that you sat near Tamaki either, but he seemed to give you the cold shoulder. Not so much as dare to take a glance at you, though you happened to notice his hand was over his stomach. Maybe he had a stomach ache, though after consuming a whole piece of paper splattered with ink.

It didn’t surprise you much, if at all. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder just what he had to hide. When afternoon came, you seemed to have forgotten about the strange incident as soon as you slipped on your hero attire. You grinned as you walked alongside your classmates to Ground Gamma, given you couldn’t help but glance over at Tamaki. 

He was currently talking to Nejire, but you noticed his face was twisted in some form of discomfort. “Y/n...Y/n!!!” you snapped out of your thoughts before turning to face one of your classmates. “Huh? What?” it was a little shameful you had zoned out, but even so. The teachers had decided that instead of team exercises, you’d be facing each other one on one. 

This disappointed you as you rather enjoyed working with your classmates to form tactical strategies and such, but it was important for heroes to learn how to work on their own as well. The who versus whom opponents were randomized as to assure fairness and the element of surprise, you were hoping you’d be one of the first students to show your skills in combat.

But, unfortunately, you weren’t and much like the other student heroes in training, you had to stand back and observe. Though you found yourself growing bored and decided to take a seat on the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest and sporting a dull expression. You glanced over at Tamaki once more, taking note that he was still holding his stomach and Nejire was patting his shoulder. 

You assumed she was telling him he was fine. As the second pair of students finished their training exercise, you leaned back and gave a loud yawn which seemed to catch your teacher’s attention. “Y/n,” they said and you turned to look at them with a raised eyebrow, but answered nonetheless. “Yes?” you replied, “Since you seem so bored, I’ll give you a task. Next match, Suneater verse Y/n!” your eyes widened and you sported a dumbfounded expression. 

“W-What?” you questioned and your teacher merely smirked at you, was that even legal? You knew your teachers were also pro heroes and as such, should be respected. But, sometimes you couldn’t help but question their teaching methods. Your classmates seemed rather surprised, whispering how lucky you were to be facing a member of The Big Three and how you’d more than likely get your ass kicked. 

Tamaki didn’t seem to take the news very well either, in fact, his face twisted into what you could only describe as pure fear. “Uh, I d-don’t think-” he tried to protest, but the teacher cut him off quickly and ordered you two to start at opposite ends of the training ground. You looked to Tamaki and shrugged, “May the best student win?” once you had taken your position among the twisted landscape of metal piping. 

You crouched down, going through strategies that could possibly give you an advantage. You wouldn’t let the fact he was a member of The Big Three bother you, even though this all boiled down to one thing. You had to try your best, with that in mind. You decided to lay low and take a running start, keeping your eyes and ears open for Tamaki. 

Carefully avoiding those obnoxious pipes in your way before you heard a noise. It was just a small creek, but you knew better than to believe it was just Ground Gamma settling. You stopped briefly, legs bent and ready to make an escape if you needed to. You stared into the abyss of metal before suddenly a tentacle shot out toward you, but a quick dodge saved you from being captured and you took off. 

Slithering between big and small pipes alike before you decide to ricochet between two of them, angling your body so you landed on top of a sturdy pipe. You quickly turned on your feet, glancing over the landscape once more. Your eyes searching for any sight or sign of Tamaki, you also had to be aware those tentacles of his could be trouble. With that idea, you quickly looked down. 

Ensuring there was no sight of those powerful octopus arms, you then opted to travel above the pipes. Easily jumping from one to the next, your head turning back and forth despite the fact that wind was ruffling your hair and causing your bangs to sway in your face. But, it was quiet. Everything was so quiet which it shouldn’t be, Tamaki’s steps couldn’t be that silent, unless...he wasn’t on the ground. 

Your eyes widened at the realization and from the corner of your eye, you saw a single brown feather. “Oh no,” you turned your head as a shadow cast over you. Instantly, your jaw dropped as you saw him. Tamaki, Suneater, the best of the best. Right above you, brown wings spread to their span. His right hand was morphed into long tentacles and his left shaped into a clamshell.

Before you could blink, those wings flapped and the next thing you recalled was a hard hit to your stomach. It threw you off balance and you fell a good few feet before reaching the ground. Pain surged through your person and a long groan escaped you. Every fiber of your being was screaming for you to get back up, but you were too slow. You heard Tamaki land behind you, but he said nothing as he approached you.

Which at the moment, was scary even though he was normally a quiet and reserved person. However, you yelped when you felt those tentacles proceed to wrap around you, binding your arms by your sides. Your quirk was useless without the movement of your hands and knowing that simple fact, you couldn’t help but clench your jaw. It seemed Tamaki had to add insult to injury as you felt the pressure of his enlarged chicken foot against your back. 

“I think...y-you’re...done…” came his words, seems he was always a tad braver when he was Suneater which made sense. You turned your head as much as you could, sending a glare toward him. You were usually better than this, but to get bested this quickly. It only reminded you of how much further you had to go before you could truly call yourself a hero. 

“Suneater…” you hissed out, flexing your arms as you attempted to get out of his grip. Tamaki however, felt his stomach twist again and his face once more showed discomfort. Maybe eating that letter was a bad idea. It certainly wasn’t settling in his stomach right, and his heart was racing at an unusual speed. But, he felt a strange sense of happiness course through his body as well. 

“Y/n, I think you’re my love,” a gasp left his mouth and you felt those tentacles retract. You pressed your hand to the ground, now looking at Tamaki with a wide-eyed expression. “W-What?” you questioned, wondering if you heard him correctly. But, judging by the way he was holding his hands over his mouth and how red his face was turning. 

You assumed you had indeed heard the words he had spoken correctly. He took a step back and you noticed his wings were disappearing, was his quirk so consciously controlled that when he was distracted by overwhelming emotions it became faulty? You were more than certain that if the teachers and fellow hero students were still watching, they would be confused as to why Tamaki had let you go.

You slowly rose to your feet, though your body. Mostly your ribs coursed with a dull ache which had you grasping your side. Your eyes were locked on Tamaki as he shook his head and took a step back, his hands tightened around his mouth to prevent it from opening again. But, it was no good. His jaw ached and he couldn’t stop himself, painfully he opened his mouth and more confusing words spilled. 

“I...have...been watching you...for so long! I see...you in the...h-halls...and I…” his body went tense as he forced his jaw closed once more, teeth pressing tightly together. What was happening? He had no idea, but he needed to be quiet or else. Oh God, was this because he had eaten the confession he wrote? Your jaw was hanging open, unsure of how to process the words he was speaking. 

First, he ate a piece of paper, now this? You took a step back when Tamaki stepped forward, “Uh, T-Tamaki, are you okay?” you questioned before he opened his mouth once more, his eyes watering over which concerned you all the more. “I...f-freeze! You’re the one...p-plaguing...my t-thoughts, my desires…I,” Tamaki’s jaw clenched once more and he leaned over, his hands curling into fists. 

“I w-want you...my l-love,” your heart began to pound in your chest, being called ‘my love’ by Tamaki of all people. Well, it was sweet. But, you couldn’t ignore the fact this was clearly not a willing confession. Something was making him speak against his will, maybe his quirk? His voice was strained and breathless which only furthered your assumption he was truly fighting with himself.

“I...long...t-to hold…y-you! My darling...and b-be your hero, to c-cradle and protect...y-you!” his body was trembling as he raised his hand, fingers spread out and palm facing toward you. Your eyes shifted to that hand, eyebrows furrowing together. “Uh...Tamaki,” you said, though you were tempted to take that hand. “I long...t-to be yours!” he stumbled forward, his face was hot and he could feel droplets of sweat fall from his person.

The fact his cheeks were completely red was a good indication he was embarrassed by what he was saying which caused you to frown. You planted your feet on the ground, knowing that you couldn’t exactly run away or restrain him in his current state in order to win. That wasn’t a fair fight and in addition, you knew heroes don’t run from those in need. 

However, it seemed even in his...current abnormal state. He was still in control of some of the aspects of his quirk, in fact, before you could properly react. Those tentacles were around one of your arms, the suction cups digging into your skin and taking firm grip. “Amajiki!” you took a step back, trying to pull your arm out of his grip. But, it was no use as you just got pulled forward again. 

“AMAJIKI,” you warned again, going as far as to reach over and begin to claw at those tentacles. The sound of your shoes scraping against the metal ground wasn’t exactly comforting, neither was the fact you knew you were going to lose this small struggle. “I w-want to be your husband...one day! Scream your name...f-from the rooftops! My love...my one and o-only!” you shook your head, now growing afraid of the shy reserved boy. 

Especially when he finally pulled you forward, causing you to shriek. Your hand was out as you collided with his chest and you immediately felt the pressure of his arm against your lower back. His nails digging into your hip which made you hiss. But he continued to speak, “Just let me h-hold you and soak y-your body in! M-Melt together in a beautiful...ember of love and j-joy,” you blinked, trying to jerk your body out of his grip.

But, it was of little use. He leaned over and you shivered when you felt the soft skin of his face bury itself into your hair. “You are...my w-whole world…” he sucked in a breath, still fighting but it was beginning to hurt. His stomach felt heavy, too weighed down. He needed to say everything, “Fear and c-courage, the one...s-sole purpose in my life...i-is you,” the words were mumbled slightly and he lifted his head. 

“I won’t g-give up. I’ll f-fight the army that holds m-my love hostage, I want you to be...m-mine,” your eyes widened and you wanted to tilt your head up and look at him, but you were almost afraid to. “My l-love and my heart, the one...I w-wish to worship. D-Drop to my knees...a-and kiss your skin,” he choked out and you could feel those tentacles loosen around you. 

“Tamaki…?” his name came out of your mouth in a soft whisper and you finally lifted your head to look at him. His face was still twisted, a painful expression spread across it and you gasped as he leaned close. You were taken back by the intense expression that danced in his eyes and your face began to grow red. “I want t-to set up a s-shrine...pray to your p-powerful aura,” this was just getting weird, but somehow you knew it was the truth which made it even scarier. 

You were tempted to run when those tentacles finally retracted, but you didn’t have time to even think about such as Tamaki’s hand now gently took hold of your chin. You felt a lump form in your throat as you found yourself staring into Tamaki’s eyes. “Forever...m-more...until the end of my...d-days...I...” he suddenly stopped and his breath hitched.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. However, you let out another shriek when Tamaki suddenly dropped to the ground. You stumbled back, not having expected such a thing. The sound of his panting filled the air and you watched as he reached up and ran his hand through his hair. Such didn’t help the sweat that covered his person and your eyebrows furrowed once more. 

“I...Amajiki, are you...I mean...everything you said...was it…” you were almost afraid to ask and took a sharp breath which caused a shooting pain to course through your ribs. You latched onto your lip to prevent yourself from hissing and Tamaki slowly lifted his head to look at you. His eyes full of horror and regret, “I...I…” he wasn’t sure what to say, what could he say?

He wasn’t entirely sure what made him say what he did, every word he spoke was in his letter. Did eating it make an effect on his quirk? He groaned and covered his face, saying no more before he took off running in the opposite direction. It took you a moment to fully realize the Big Three member was indeed making a run for it, “Amajiki, wait!” you called out, your hand outstretched in his direction.

Your teachers and fellow students who witnessed this odd interaction were currently scratching their heads, trying to piece together what could have possibly happened to cause one of the top students to run with his tail between his legs. But, the fact you were being watched through this whole exercise was the last thing on your mind. 

You couldn’t help but run after Amajiki, your feet pounding against the metal flooring of Ground Gamma. While you had lost sight of him, you knew there was only one place he could have gone. To the end of the training ground where the exit was located, though you weren’t as fast as Tamaki which caused some anxiety as you hoped he’d be where you thought he was. 

When you reached the location of the exit, you leaned over with your hands on your knees. The sound of your soft panting filled the air before you wiped your brow. Your jaw then clenched as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ribs, the exit to Ground Gamma was a large hallway with very dim lighting. In a way, it made you uneasy seeing Tamaki there. 

Despite being dressed in his hero attire, he was facing the wall. His forehead pressed against it and you could tell he was trembling, you had known Tamaki to do this exact thing. Given the fact he was rather shy and suffered from anxiety, you frowned and slowly approached him. “Amajiki,” you said, your voice was soft. But, that didn’t stop the fact that Tamaki ducked his head. 

You reached your hand out, wanting to touch him but you decided against it for now. You took a deep breath, “Um, so…” you reached up, scratching the side of your temple. Where would you even begin? “I’m not sure...what that was but...did you mean it? Everything you said?” Tamaki wanted to smack his head against the wall, your question left his stomach twisting with butterflies. 

Honestly, part of him wished his heart would stop as opposed to continue to pound inside his chest. Of course, everything he said was the truth as terribly spoken and previously written down as it was. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. In fact, he had never written a love letter before and though he had made countless drafts. It seemed he just wasn’t talented enough to write such romantic words on paper. 

“Mm…” is the only way he managed to respond to you. “Mm? Amajiki…” you paused and decided to finally reach out, placing your hand on his shoulder.  However, he seemed to shy away from your touch. Shuffling to the side, you let out a sigh and lowered your hand. A friendly touch wouldn’t do anything in this case and you didn’t know the other Big Three members well enough to ask them how to properly handle Tamaki when he got like this. 

You’d feel bad if you left him all alone, but it didn’t seem as though he wanted your company at the current moment. You glanced down, hearing the sound of wind echo through the open exit way. You turned your head to look around, you knew you couldn’t afford to waste any more time. 

Else your teacher would begin to look for you or another verse competition would start. “Amajiki…” you said yet again, allowing your hands to rest by your sides. “Regardless if...what you said was true or not, I think we need to leave an-” before you could say anything more.

Tamaki had turned and began to sprint away and it honestly made your heart sink. You watched him disappear from view again and let out a sigh, maybe you’d confront him about it later. But, if what he said was true. Well, you’d need to figure out how you felt about it.

[sgtbradfords]

Could you write a Chenford prompt with this “You’re always number one.” ? Thank you!

Ok anon, this one was so much fun to write! Thank you for sending me this prompt! I hope you enjoy :) Send me a prompt from this list!

The sounds of car doors slamming filled the parking lot, the hot California sun bearing down onto the asphalt.  “Someone please remind me why we’re doing this again?” said Nyla Harper as she and Lila met the growing crowd in front of the building.

“Because Nolan said it’d be fun and none of us disagreed.”

“It’s also a bonding experience.” Piped in John Nolan.

Tim Bradford rolled his eyes. “As if we don’t spend enough time out of work as it is.”

“Alright,” said Angela Lopez, gathering the groups attention as she walked out of the building. “We’ve got 2 hours booked for us to play as many rounds as possible with a twenty-minute break after an hour. Wesley and I took the liberty last night of dividing everyone into teams already. Should someone feel as though it’s unfair after the first game then we will redo the teams. Alpha squad will be Wesley, Jackson, Tim, Lila and John. Bravo squad will be Sterling, Lucy, Nyla, Henry and myself.”

“Question, can we change our team names?”

“No.”

“What are the rules?” asked Jackson.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Their rules or our rules?”

“Ours of course.”

“No removing your sensor to avoid being shot. Keep physical contact to a minimum. Climbing is allowed as long as you don’t get shot. If you are shot, then your vest will reset after thirty seconds. We have the room to ourselves so no worries about outsiders. An alarm will go off in an hour to signal the break. Most importantly, have fun. Everyone ready?” Angela told the group before moving towards the building.

“You’re going down Bradford.” Lucy gloated as they walked through the door.

“Is that what you think boot?”

Lucy scoffed “Think? I know. Remind me again who was Mid-Wilshire’s shooting champ this year?”

“There was a scuba diver!” Cried John.

“We know.” Voiced the group.

The group divided up into their teams, going into separate rooms to get their gear.

“Game starts in five.” Nyla said as she slipped back into her teams’ room after helping Lila into her gear. “The amount of trash talk coming from them… Don’t be shocked to see Lila and Nolan team up.” She told them as she began gearing up herself.

An alarm through their room, giving off the one-minute warning. Both teams lining up outside of their doors that led to the complex.

The next alarm sounded as the doors opened, the lights off and blacklight’s on making the place glow.

“Yippie ki yay Mother-“

“NOLAN SO HELP ME, DON’T YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE.” Nyla yelled as she entered the room.

“-theresa!”

Each person began strategizing, Sterling being the first shot as Wesley rounded a corner.

Lucy was able to shoot John, who was helping Lila sneak under a platform, “Not fair Lucy!” he yelled as she ran away.

The first round went quick, the score almost even as the alarm blared, signaling their break, they congregated in one room, huddled around the TV screen showing points.

“How are they winning?” Cried Angela. “I know I shot Nolan at least five times!”

“It’s only by a few points honey.” Wesley smirked as he told his wife, taking a sip of water.

Angela glared, covertly flipping her husband the middle finger as Sterling wondered aloud. “How does a nine-year-old have more kills than me?”

Jackson laughed. “Because you play a cop on TV, Ster. Where as her mother probably gave her the good aim in her genes.”

“Wait, this says Tim and Lucy are tied as the top shooters.” Henry pointed out. “How is that possible?”

Everyone turned staring at the two as Lucy shrugged. “I told you, champion. Besides, I rarely win anything. Now Tim on the other hand, you’re always number one.” She said pointing a finger.

“Come on boot, Antonio won that one time!” he defended before explaining. “We do paintball once a month. Besides, Chen practically lives at the shooting range.”

“Only because you make me!” Lucy snorted before defending herself. “And I do have a life outside of work I’ll have you know.”

“Is that what you’re calling him? Because if I remember correctly, I had to buzz you in the other day at six in the morning wearing yesterday’s clothes because you ‘lost’ your keys.” Jackson pointed out causing her to blush. “And it wasn’t the first time either.”

Nolan propped his head on the fist of the elbow leaning on the table. “Tell me more tell me more did you get very far.” He sung.

“Shut up Nolan.” The group voiced as he raised his hands in defense.

The five-minute bell rang, half the group standing to head back to their room, Angela and Nyla moving to Lucy’s side as she began to put her device back on, shooting the test target in the room to check her gun.

“Is he a decent guy?” asked Angela.

Lucy smiled. “He is.”

“Have you done a background check on him?”

“I haven’t but I don't need to, he’s told me a lot.”

Nyla watched Lucy, her arms crossed over her chest. “You love him.”

“I do.”

Angela looked at Nyla before looking back at Lucy “Does he make you happy?”

Lucy looked at the two, her smile growing. “He does.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” Angela said. “If he hurts you, I hope he knows your family will help you kill him.”

Lucy laughed, “Not if I kill him first.”

The one-minute alarm sounded as each team re-assumed their entry positions.

Team Bravo was the first to strike in round two, Nyla taking Lila and Jackson down ten seconds apart.

Lucy quickly made her way to the second floor, finding the perfect corner that was dark enough to stay hidden with the help of her jacket hiding the glow of her target. She crouched down, keeping an eye out, watching the walkway that ran across the second floor, she knew Jackson was up here, having seen his white shirt go by in a blur as she made her way up from the first floor.

“Boo.” A voice whispered in her ear.

Lucy jumped to her feet, startled as she whipped around, pointing her gun at the person that was crouched beside her on the floor. “Didn’t your T.O ever teach you not to sneak up on someone with a gun?”

“It’s fake. And didn’t your T.O teach you to always stay aware of your surroundings boot?” retorted Tim as he stood, backing her further into the corner.

“How did you get there and how long have you been there?”

“Army crawled.” He said shrugging. “And not that long. So, who’s the guys ass I need to be kicking?”

“None of your business. But,” She told him, her tone playful as Tim stepped closer. “he’s about six foot four, blond hair, killer eyes.”

“Yeah? He sounds like a loser.”

“Well, someone has to counter his inner nerdiness.”

“Wanna play dirty?” he asked, as he moved closer, each hand grabbing for the belt loops of her pants as Lucy’s back hit the wall.

“Looks like we already are.”

“We are but,” he dragged out. “what if we teamed up to take down both sides?” he asked, leaning his body into hers.

Lucy bit her lip as she tilted her head back. “Conspiring to commit treason are we Sergeant Bradford?”

Tim moved his head down, his lips grazing hers as he whispered. "Conspiring to do something Officer Chen.” He said as he acted first, his lips capturing hers harshly, eliciting a moan from deep within as her body reacted to his touch. His fingers let go of the denim loops, hands slowly grazing the exposed skin where her shirt was riding up, causing her to shiver as she moved a leg, wrapping it around his backside.

“We’re going to get caught.” She said as someone yelled from the first floor. Tim moved his lips down her neck, his nose pushing her hair back as he sucked on the skin, a gasp escaping her lips.

“They won’t even know we’re missing.” He mumbled against her neck as his hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans, lifting her, pressing her harder into the wall as she wrapped her other leg around him.

“They’ll know when they see neither of us getting points.”

“We’re getting points.” He smirked, pulling back. “Just none they need to know about.”

Lucy fisted his shirt, pulling him into her in a hungry kiss, returning his earlier kiss with equal fervor before letting go, running her nails over his scalp as she grinded into him.

“Lucy!” Jackson yelled from the first floor, causing them to break apart. “I know you’re waiting for me!”

Lucy dropped down as Tim let her go. “How the hell did he get down there?” she asked, catching her breath as she grabbed her gun that was swinging by its tether.

“I guess you were distracted.” He told her, his tone light and playful.

Lucy moved around him, making the move to go after her friend.

“Wait.” he said as he pulled her back by the arm, twirling her into him as his lips found hers in the darkness, leaving her breathless.

Lucy moaned as she forced herself to pull away. “Later, we will finish this later.” She promised, retracting his hands from his waist as she stepped back. “And babe?”

“Yeah?” he asked stepping closer to her.

“Payback’s a bitch.” She told him as she pressed the trigger on her gun, the laser hitting the target on Tim’s chest.

Tim stood shocked as Lucy ran away. “What the hell Chen!”

Lucy’s laugh echoed off the walls as she ran down the stairs, taking out Wesley who was running up the steps “Oh Jackson.” She sung. “Wanna play a game?”

Fifteen minutes later the final alarm blared, signaling the end of the game.

“Alright, which team is ready to buy the brews?” Angela asked the group who stood waiting outside. “Drum roll please!” Lucy, Nyla and Lila, began beating their hands on their thighs.

“With 3400 points the winner is… Team Bravo!”

“In your face Bradford! Break out the money clip old man!”

Tim rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s antics before stepping closer, “Twenty bucks says Jackson will be wasted by the end of the night.”

Lucy looked at Jackson who was pouting. “Make it loser pays for ice cream after paintball next week and you’ve got a deal.” She told him sticking out her hand.

“Deal.” He told her accepting her hand, lingering for what was probably too long for ‘coworkers.’

The next week Lucy smiled, handing a twenty-dollar bill over to the cashier before glancing back at Tim who was trying to stop the topping avalanche that was sliding down his double scope of Oreo ice cream. “You ready?” she asked as she pocketed her change, holding out the hand that held no ice cream.

Tim smiled, hints of ice cream on his lips as he took her hand, walking out the door. “With you? Always.

[lancermylove]

Affectionate Reader (HC)

Fandom: FFXV

Pairing: Chocobros x Reader (gender neutral)

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello! I don't know if this was already requested. May i request hc for the chocobros with a cheerful and touchy crush, please? Like reader is touchy in a affectionate way, hugs, leaning head on the shoulder, patting their shoulder/head ( kinda hard to pat gladio's head of he is standing). Could it be gender neutral? Thank you!!

A/N: Lol I think most of us can’t reach Gladio’s head! cries in being 5′2

———————————————

Noctis 

Noctis isn’t fond of being touched much, so at first, he tenses up or slightly flinches. His upbringing has taught him to maintain a respectful distance, so it takes him a little time to get used to your affection. 

The prince will never admit this to you, but he adores it when you lean your head on his shoulder. Sometimes when you fall asleep, leaning against him, he watches your peaceful face with a smile. 

Once Prompto caught Noctis watching you and decided to take a few pictures. The next day when he showed you the photos, you couldn’t help but turn a few shades of red. You almost ran to your prince charming and bear-hugged him but decided against it, knowing that Noctis would feel embarrassed. Instead, you quietly walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, catching the heir off guard. “I love you.”

Those words were enough to make the prince blush. The two of you shared a sweet embrace, but that moment was cut short with all the “awws” and “oohs” from the prince’s friends. 

To this very day, Prompto teases the two of you for being so lovey-dovey, while Gladio tells you two to “go get a room”.  

Gladiolus

Gladio openly welcomes your touch from the first day you start dating him. Much to the prince’s dismay, neither one of you hesitates to display affection in front of the others. 

A few weeks back, the shield invited you to join them camping, and you immediately agreed as it was a great chance to spend alone time with your lover. Gladio had finished setting up the tent and was watching Prompto taking pictures of Noctis. You walked up behind the shield and jumped up once, twice, and continued to do until Gladio turned around and looked at you. “What are you trying to do?" 

"Pat your head! Why do you’ve to be so tall?” Your response drew hearty laughter from Gladio. The shield sat down on a chair and pulled you close to him. “Is this better?”

With a hum, you patted Gladio’s head, only to have him wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your chest. Behind the two of you, Prompto and Noctis were pretending to barf and be sick. 

Prompto 

Just like Gladiolus, Prompto has no issues with your affectionate touch, but what he loves the most is your cheerful personality. 

The two of you were out on a date when Prompto suddenly said that he feels blessed having you in his life. His sudden yet sweet comment made you freeze in your tracks. Sensing your shock, Prompto pulled you in a firm hug, "I am sorry for being so sudden, but…but I like you very much. Can I…" 

Sensing his hesitation, you cupped his cheeks and pecked his nose, "Prompto, it’s okay. You can tell me anything.” Those words were enough to push the blonde into telling you his true feelings. “People always see my cheerful personality and think that I am a happy-go-lucky guy. They’re not wrong, but what they don’t know is that I don’t have anyone that makes me smile. Now that has changed…thank you." 

His words had made your heart melt, and from that day on, you decided that you want to be by his side forever.

Ignis 

Similar to Noctis, Ignis’s upbringing restricted him from interacting closely with others, but unlike the prince, Iggy is mature and doesn’t mind your affection. Unbeknownst to you, Ignis admires your hugs above all. 

You enjoyed giving hugs to your lover, but you noticed a pattern in his reactions to your hugs. On normal days, he would hold you close to him for a few seconds and break the hug, but on days that he was stressed, he would embrace you and place kisses on your head. 

Curious, you asked Ignis about this, "Iggy, why do you like to kiss my head on certain days and not on other days?” Your lover stared at you with an eyebrow raised but quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat. He was shocked to learn that you had taken note of this. 

“There are certain days that I find myself rather exhausted, and on those days, your hug,” he paused and once again cleared his throat, “diminishes the stress.” You gawked at his confession and could’ve sworn that you saw a hint of red on his cheeks. From then on, whenever you sensed Ignis’s stress, you made sure to give him extra tight hugs. 

[daydreaming-nerd]

Out of Love (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Request by anon: “Hello there! Can I request a oneshot where Bucky thinks you're falling out of love him and it worsens when he sees you being affectionate with your new guy friend”

Warnings: Angst, fluffy ending, insecure Bucky, implied smut at the very very end.

an: I’m gonna start writing shorter fics because I’m seeing other blogs doing it and I think that might be what people are wanting right now? Please let me know if I’m wrong here lol.

It was a lovey Sunday morning and Bucky and I were taking a stroll through New York after having grabbed some breakfast at our favorite little cafe. It was warm and sunny out with a slight breeze in the air. Spring flowers lined the city streets and everything felt so light and airy. 

I felt someone bump into my right shoulder and I immediately turned to see who it was. I hoped they would say sorry but they said something very different.

“y/n?” the man said, upon further inspection I realized that I knew this man. 

“Tyler?” I said. “what are you doing in New York?”

“I’m here on business! I’ve been here for a month and I’ll be here for another two months.” He exclaimed.

“Wow I haven’t seen you since college!” I said. 

“It looks like you finally got everything you wanted,” he said gesturing to the city around us “you finally got to live in New York.”

“It took a while but I made it! I can’t believe you’re here right now, it’s been so long.”

“I know, I was actually hoping I would run into you here.” He said bashfully.  

All the sudden I felt Bucky squeeze my left hand.

“Oh my goodness where are my manners? Tyler this is Bucky,” I said allowing them to shake hands. “Tyler and I were like best friends in college.”

“So you’re the boyfriend?” Tyler asked.

“That’s me,” Bucky said feeling uncomfortable. 

“Wow the infamous Winter Soldier,” He said looking at Bucky’s left hand. “I guess I don’t have to worry about anything happening to her do I,” he chuckled.

“You definitely don’t,” Bucky said.

“You’re one lucky guy scoring her. You better take care of her for me.” Tyler smiled.

“I will,” 

“Well we better go Tyler we’ve got some errands to run today but you should text me and we can get together again,” I said to him.

“That would be awesome! It was nice to see you again y/n, and nice to meet you Bucky,” He said leaning down to give me a hug. 

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

After seeing Tyler on the street Bucky and I went home to continue our date night. That is until I walked out of the bathroom and he was gone. I asked F.R.I.D.A.Y where he was and found that he was on the gym working out. I figured he must’ve left his water bottle there again but when a two minute task turned into a fifteen minute task I realized that he was probably working out. I didn’t mind though, Bucky had been through a lot in his life, sometimes weird things bring back his old memories and he has to blow off some steam. I was walking towards the bench to take off my heels seeing as we weren’t going to dinner tonight when I heard my phone go off. 

 Any dinner plans tonight? I still haven’t found the best place to get New York pizza? -Tyler

I smiled and thought for a second before replying.

Meet me at Di Fara Pizza in Brooklyn ;)

I grabbed my purse and off I went!

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

“This is it?” asked Tyler looking at the slightly run down pizza place.

“Yep this is it,” I smiled. “The guy who opened it back in 64′, Dom DeMarco still runs the place and makes all the pizzas!” 

“Okay I trust you,” Tyler said before linking his arm in mine and walking through the door. 

“Y/n!” yelled Dom. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”

“Hi Dom! I know things have been crazy lately! I could really go for one of your famous cheese pizzas though,” 

“Coming right up miss y/n!” 

I went and sat down at one of the very few tables. Thankfully there was no one there so we had the joint to ourselves. 

“How did you find this place?” Tyler said as we sat down. 

“Tony actually showed me,” I laughed.

“Tony, as in Tony Stark?” He asked. 

“Of course! He’s the reason I’m here. We met at a convention and he liked my work ethic and spunk. I begged him to let me intern for him and he said yes. So he shipped me out here to New York and now I live in the tower with everyone else.” 

“That’s insane. Your life doesn’t even sound real,” he laughed.

“Yeah I have trouble convincing myself sometimes,” 

“So you and the Winter Soldier? You always had a thing for bad boys but this is even a little crazy for you,” Tyler said as if trying to prompt me into saying I didn’t love Bucky.

“He’s not who he used to be. He’s not The Winter Soldier he’s Bucky Barnes and god do I love him.” I gushed.

“Y/n I don’t know,”

“Trust me Tyler, Bucky is absolutely amazing. He’s so sweet and I know he looks big and tough but he’s really a big teddy bear,” I said

“Here we are miss y/n a cheese pizza made just the way you like it,” Dom said interrupting Tyler’s thought.

“Thank you Dom you’re an angel,” I said.

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

“Thank you for tonight y/n it was really nice to see you again.” Tyler said at the bottom of the Avengers tower.

“No thank you I had a great time! We’ll have to get together again sometime. Maybe this Friday I can get you the clearance to come in the tower.” I winked.

“That would be so cool!” Tyler exclaimed.

“I’ll talk to Tony and let you know,” I laughed.

“Well goodnight y/n,” Tyler said kissing my cheek.

That crossed the line for me.

“Tyler please don’t do that I’m with Bucky,” I said.

“Oh sorry,” 

“Please leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re trying yo achieve here but I’m very happy with Bucky and I’m not going to let you mess it up. Goodnight Tyler,” I said opening the door to the tower. 

I got off the elevator on my floor and saw that the light in Bucky and I’s room was still on. I walked in expecting Bucky to have fallen asleep with the lights on again but there he sat on the edge of the bed waiting for me.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Where were you?” He asked standing up.

“I went to grab pizza with Tyler,” I said putting my bag on it’s hook by the door. 

“Oh,” Bucky said somberly.

“Buck what’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” He said.

I walked over and took his hands in mine.

“Bucky I know somethings wrong just tell me,”

He took a deep breath trying to spit out what was bothering him.

“Do you like Tyler?” he asked.

“Of course not Bucky,” I said putting my arms around his neck.

“I know I’m over reacting but I could tell that he really likes you and I was scared you might feel the same way,” He said wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Well trust me I definitely don’t feel the same way about him. Especially after tonight,” I said rolling my eyes.

“What happened tonight? Did he try anything with you?” He asked getting upset.

“He was a total prick all night. He was trying to act like you were still some evil assassin and then he kissed me on the cheek!” 

“I’m gonna kill him,” He said trying to move past me.

“Woah there tiger, I already told him off,” I said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah you should’ve seen the look on his face. He looked like he was gonna cry.” I laughed. “You don’t ever have to worry Bucky Barnes, I love you so much I can’t even stand it sometimes. You can’t get rid of me.”

“You could do so much better though doll. Someone without such a dark past, someone who isn’t as dangerous, someone who has both arms,” he said sadly.

“James Buchanan Barnes. Where else am I gonna find a man who can swing me around a dance floor like you do? A man who is old fashioned in all the best ways, who still believes in the notion of buying his best girl flowers for no particular reason. Not to mention a man who’s a gentlemen in the streets and an animal in the sheets.” I smirked.

“God I love you so much doll,” He said picking me up and swinging me around.

“Why don’t you show me how much you love me Barnes,” I said pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Doll you read my mind,”

[jjk-biased]

[hyungline pretending you aren’t dating]

requested by: anonymous (can i request that one idol! au from the special prompt list with jin or yoongi? paired to a fem reader, and somehow, dispatch discovered they were actually dating. Thank you!!)

also requested by: anonymous (The idol! au where they pretend to not be dating but somehow perceived as enemies by the public with namjoon, paired with a female reader, and how the public reacts when they find out when they were actually dating)

a/n: first of all, i apologize for the long wait!! i was quite unwell these past few days because of stress from school and so i couldn’t work. also, i forgot to add more of the public’s reaction in the fic itself so to the anon who asked, and whoever wants, please tell me if you want me to do a continuation (i was thinking fake text form)

genre: fluff

words: 2.5k overall

synopsis: having to hide your relationship, you tried your best not to make your long-time relationship obvious to the world. you did so well that they thought you were enemies.

masterlist | events masterlist

Your relationship started before the both of you even entered BigHit, so management couldn’t really ask you to break up-- or else they’d lose you two to other companies who could also see the potential. Albeit loose, their only rule was for you two to pretend that you weren’t dating until they see it fit for the two of you to reveal the long relationship you two had. 

Apparently, you two did well. In fact, you did so well that the public perceived you two as rivals. 

Enemies.

Oh how wrong they were.

kim seokjin

“This is so funny… They believe you hate your s/o, hyung! Look,” Namjoon snorted as he showed one of the posts he saw in his secret twitter fan account. (yes, i swear that guy has one)

“Why do you guys ship Jin and Y/N? It’s obvious they hate… each other,” Jin read aloud, falling to the floor as he laughed. 

Jin supposed it was because of the limited aired interaction between you two. But he could never hate you, boy was too whipped to even be angry at you. He loved you so much.

You were just as whipped as he was and were facing quite a similar predicament in the dressing room next door with your manager. 

“When we told you two that you couldn’t reveal your status, it was never part of it to let the public think you two hated each other,” Your manager jested, too amused to see that this is how the people saw you two. 

You sighed as your manager continued to voice out their thoughts. 

“Honestly! They should see how you two are in undocumented events… Like horny teenagers who couldn’t take their hands off of each other! It’s like you’re almost havi-” You shut your manager up before they could even say anything else and embarrass you further. 

“But seriously, if anything goes out… I think management will allow it now.”

You mull over the words of your manager before you left, thinking about how convenient it would be to finally scream to the world that you love Kim Seokjin, and that he loves you back.

I mean, who wouldn’t?

Jin met up with you at the parking lot, hidden from any prying stalkers and media that wanted to get a scoop of whatever was inside the world’s best artist’s company. You returned the bear hug he gave, albeit distracted, and remained in his arms. To get you to notice him, Jin poked you on the cheek and giggled internally when he saw your confused look.

“What are you thinking about?” 

You sighed and relayed what your manager had mentioned, “I don’t think they plan to say anything about us but if word goes out, they won’t deny it either.” 

Jin hummed, “I suppose it’s because of the ongoing discussion on whether we’re enemies or not.”

“But they are right about that. I hate you, especially because you cheat on Mario kart,” You grin, sticking your tongue out. 

Jin faked offense, playing along and saying that you should stop dreaming about beating him.

At that moment, Jin looked so irresistible that you couldn’t pass up on kissing him. As you reached up and connected your lips, you two heard something.

A click of a camera. In the most guarded parking lot. Where you two were kissing.  

Ah shit. 

Jin sighed, annoyed that someone was ruining your moment, and chose to break your intimate moment so he could cover you with his broad shoulders. He was always a gentleman and would always prioritize your well-being even if he’s also uncomfortable. 

Dispatch finally got something from sneaking in and they were sure to post those photos as soon as possible because it would gain a lot of clicks. And a lot of clicks meant a lot of moola. For them, that is. 

The next day, Dispatch released your photos with Jin, causing a plethora of reactions from the community. Your manager was prepared enough that BigHit could post its response two hours from the start of the fiasco. 

While it wasn’t the most ideal way of going public, the thought that the world finally knew you’ve loved Seokjin for a long time brought you ease. 

min yoongi

The world knew you as one of BTS’ producers and owner of some of the hidden vocals in a few songs. Unlike Adora and the rest, you were very open with your friendship with the boys and would be often seen in the background of some music videos for the fun of it. 

Somehow, you were also included in some “ships” as fans liked to call it. While you never minded being paired off to the guys who you’d always see as friends, you were more than bothered that the world decided you and Min Yoongi hated each other. You? And your long-time boyfriend?

They should see how he is when he’s alone with you.

Just like right now. You were comfortably laying on the bean bag you brought to Yoongi’s studio so you could have some sort of time with him before he got too busy with their comeback. This is how you two would spend your time-- when one of you is working on new tracks, the other would be loitering about in the studio, ready for when the one working wants to cuddle to de-stress.

You were scrolling on your phone, using your fan account to keep yourself updated on whatever was going on in stan twitter, and came across a particular thread that pointed out why you shouldn’t be shipped with Min Yoongi. That very short thread garnered a lot of attention, and you could see that people were divided. 

They shouldn’t. You were obviously with Yoongi and you couldn’t understand why they perceived your fleeting glances as “avoiding eye contact.” 

Yoongi must have heard your snickers and sighs because he stopped fine tuning this english track to look at your sprawled form, “What’s with you?” You raised your head to meet his gaze. Is this avoiding contact, huh? You shook your head and told him that the world was an idiot. 

Not that you could do anything about it though. 

Yoongi stretched as he chuckled, asking if you wanted to go to the small unknown cafe down the road for a breather. You agreed and were excited that you get to go on a simple, spontaneous date with the love of your life. Yoongi held your left hand in his as you two walked to the cafe.

Well, that was a mistake. 

You two underestimated Dispatch’s abilities to sneak and follow you two. You also paid no mind towards Manager Sejin’s offer to bring you to the cafe via car ride. The journalist must have had a field day because he was able to take photos of you two holding hands, you two kissing, and you two laughing at the barren cafe. 

As you went back to the building, you two were met with a very stressed Namjoon and a defeated Manager Sejin. Dispatch was able to post everything before you could even return back to BigHit. Oops.

Curiously peeking at your phone as the four of you went to Bang PD’s office, you could see that a lot were shocked yet happy that the supposed enemies of BigHit were actually dating. 

Jokes on you, world. I’m dating Min Yoongi.

“What are we gonna do about this?”

...Bang PD please don’t fire me. 

jung hoseok

“Do you hate me?” Hoseok whispered, quite nervous to ask you such a question while the others were on taking a break outside of the practice room. You were BigHit’s choreographer and assistant to the legendary Son Seungdeuk, and were previously teaching them the dance you, Hoseok, and Seungdeuk have come up with for their newest track, Dynamite. 

To say the least, you were taken aback that Hoseok had thoughts like these. If it weren’t for the keep quiet rule set by BigHit, you would have told every person you came across with that Jung Hoseok loved you back. You immediately assured him that you love him so much, even more than you loved your favorite snack. 

“What made you think so?” You asked softly, sitting on the floor beside him. 

Hoseok hummed, deciding it was best to show you rather than tell. He pulled his phone out and opened Weverse, their app, and scrolled to the latest posts that said you and your boyfriend seemed to hate each other. You never really thought much on how the world saw you two but this particular reaction from the fans shocked you. 

“Hmm… I never got to the bottom of why they thought we hated each other but their only evidence is me glaring at you from the back of the camera,” Hoseok said, his mood being lifted by how baseless everyone was being. 

“You were trying your best not to laugh during the dance practice shoot, thanks to my good looks,” You whipped your hair in confidence, laughing your ass out with him when you two remembered. 

Before you could even kiss his cheek, the younger members barged in and faux vomited at the sight. Mr. Son was also pretending to gag, but he should see himself when he’s with his wife at their company gatherings. 

After the practice, everyone was playing around and making selfies. Namjoon must have not noticed that he faintly had you and Hoseok laughing in the background because he posted the photo immediately.

Nothing could be done anymore, even if he deleted the picture. The “Are you two enemies or lovers?” debate grew much more because of the picture that even Dispatch decided to meddle to get to the bottom of it. 

The next day, while they were preparing for the live stage as you monitored their movements, will forever change the course of the enemies versus lovers discourse. You and Hoseok were near the backstage, but still visible if someone looked hard enough. Look hard enough Dispatch did. You were laughing as Hoseok striked silly poses, earning a few pecks and hugs from you as support. 

They were thriving as they dangled from a tree, using one of the lenses with extreme zoom, and successfully getting a few shots here and there of your interaction. 

After that event, they immediately posted the collection of the photos that were taken without consent, consequently confirming the thoughts that formed from Namjoon’s latest post. 

You two really didn’t mind their opinion when that article was published. You two were occupied by the impending scolding you’ll get from Mr. Son and Manager Sejin. 

At least, the world began to see the sense from your past interactions, questioning themselves why they ever thought otherwise. 

You were with Hoseok, and it was obvious from before. The world finally knew that. 

kim namjoon

Fans speculated that Namjoon had someone in his heart. It wasn’t that obvious but they were able to connect certain videos and photos, coming to the conclusion that Namjoon was in a relationship. 

But they were very sure it wasn’t you. 

You were one of the very few actors of BigHit, currently working on a romantic comedy drama alongside BTS’ Jin, and the “someone” in question for Namjoon’s heart. Because you and Jin were co-actors, BTS would often visit your set when they could. They would also send food trucks for you two with your funny candid pictures and unreleased selfies. 

Namjoon took this chance to visit you when he was available because your moments with him have become scarce when their comeback coincided with your drama. When not in shoot, selected staff could see you in your van cuddling with your very tall boyfriend. You’d easily fall asleep when he’s with you and your manager was more than happy to know you could rest properly if Namjoon’s around. 

It was one of those days when you were out in a province to film for the next episode and Namjoon was free to tag along. 

Dispatch being dispatch, knew ahead that your drama would take place in the quiet province, so they sent one of their journalists to get some tea on the Y/N x Jin ship that bloomed from the drama. Sadly, they also had someone inside the filming crew (it was one of those interns that was unaware of you and Joon) in case someone discovers the actual journalist stalking them.

Namjoon never got out of your van ever since your filming started. He didn’t want to get in the way of your work process, opting to stay inside to read an ebook that he started some day ago. Visiting twitter for awhile, he came across one of his mutual’s questionable thread of lies that stated you were enemies with your long-time boyfriend and current fiance. 

He had a rare blank look on his face, speechless at how this mutual of his must have come up with this out-of-this-world conclusion. Namjoon decided it was best to end the mutual because he didn’t want any bullshit on his timeline. He was right to do so anyway because that ex-mutual of his got exposed for being a solo stan and an overall bad person. 

Moments later, the door to the van opened and revealed a very stressed-looking you wanting nothing more than to sleep in his arms for the entirety of your 30-minute break. Namjoon grinned softly at your grabby hands, fixing the chairs so you could have enough space to sleep comfortably. 

That short time was enough for the mole (the intern who actually worked for dispatch) to see that there was something going on with you and Kim Namjoon. He couldn’t sneak pictures, however, because your manager was quick to close the door and give him the stink eye. Mr. Mole relayed his newfound information to the journalist lurking in the trees and their focus shifted to you and Namjoon instead because this would take the world by storm.

Your manager felt that something might happen that day so he had discussed with Bang PD and Manager Sejin prior on precautions to take. Scanning around the crew, the person he was most suspicious of was clearly communicating when phones weren’t allowed, so he sent an alert to Bang PD and other people involved with this concern. 

You were fast asleep in Namjoon’s arms so only he was made aware of what was about to take place. BigHit was ready to post their confirmation that you were way past dating, on the way to marriage and you weren’t with Jin at all. (Jin was with someone else, but they couldn’t disclose that yet).

The moment Dispatch had released photos of you not only with Jin but also with Namjoon, BigHit immediately dropped the truth. They dismissed Dispatch’s accusations of you “whoring” around with both idols, sharing that you and Namjoon share a long past and will continue to share the future with each other. 

It was a win for both you two and BigHit. You could finally go on dates and post about each other. And BigHit?

They finally sued Dispatch. 

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

[tibbinswrites]

Hi! If the slots haven’t been filled yet could you do prompt #635, Destiel, something in cannonverse (so preferably not au or endverse) and angst with happy ending? Thank you! I love love love your writing, you are one of my favorite Destiel writers! You capture the characters so perfectly! I hope you have a nice day!

*grovelling, so much grovelling* I am so, so sorry that this took so long Anon, especially as you picked a prompt that I was hoping someone would pick for ages! When it came to actually WRITING for it though I drew a huge blank. I wrote 4000 words then scrapped them all, then I cycled through about three other possible ideas but none of them did this prompt justice, and THEN I got an email about my big project deadline that I had completely forgotten about so I had to sort that, and then I was in that horrible mood where I was hating everything I wrote so I had to take a break and THEN I came back with fresh eyes and this happened. Thank you so much for bearing with me. I hope it’s worth the wait! You are far too kind! I’m so happy you like how I write. I still have one prompt slot left. I have now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #26, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), (part 3), #327, #502 and #635 Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC!  635. “I can’t be mad because I let you slip away…”

Things had been kind of weird since Jack got his soul back. There were more tears than Dean was comfortable dealing with and more apologies than he knew how to forgive. There was only so much he could push aside for the kid’s benefit after all, and only so many times he could hear his mother’s name emerge from the mouth of her killer.

He hadn’t yelled yet though. He’d been trying so damn hard to keep his temper in check ever since Purgatory had him sobbing on his knees. The realisation of what his anger had almost cost him—more than once on reflection—had been burned into his very lungs. It had been a pretty big wake up call to say the least. So he hadn’t yelled at the kid. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. That was his new mantra and he replayed it every time he saw Jack start to tear up, every time he tried to (not so subtly) get Dean alone, as though it was the presence of Sam and Cas that was bothering him and not the fact that he couldn’t forget the weight of his mother’s body in his arms, or the all too familiar stench of her pyre as she burned for the second time. Dean had so far managed to dodge him, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the others intervened on Jack’s behalf.

It had been a couple weeks now and Sam was starting to give him pointed looks whenever he made his feeble excuses about needing to make a grocery run or how he’d love to stay and talk but there was a special sci-fi movie marathon at the local movie theatre that he’d been wanting to go to, or how the washing machine had been acting up and he’d really need to concentrate while fixing it. Those looks were slowly inching from understanding towards judgemental, but he just wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t look Jack in the eye and tell him honestly that he forgave him for killing Mary, because he didn’t. He might not exactly blame the kid anymore, but that didn’t mean Mary was forgotten.

It didn’t matter that Jack needed to hear the words from Dean’s mouth, this was something he couldn’t compromise himself on.

He hated that everyone else seemed to have a timeline for how long he was allowed to grieve, now that he had the time to grieve. It was different for Sam. It felt petty and resentful to think it but it was. Sam hadn’t missed Mary the first time, not really. You can’t miss what you never had after all and while Sam had definitely felt the absence of Mary growing up, in the spaces that Dean had been unable to fill, and he had peppered Dean with questions about her more than once, they had been more curious than sad. He hadn’t lost her the same way Dean had, nor did he remember the fire like Dean did, nor did he truly understand how different John had been before Mary died.

He wasn’t sure why that made a difference but it did. And sure, Mary had never been the idol he’d imagined her to be as a kid, but now he was struggling so hard not to put her back on that pedestal. He’d sorted through so much of his childish crap. Having Mary alive and well and fiercely stubborn had helped him to do that. Her unwillingness to compromise her independence and love of hunting in order to fulfil Dean’s fantasies of having someone tuck him in at night and tell him that it was all gonna be okay had helped Dean grow up in the way that he should have grown up the first time; not forced into it at four years old, confused and scared, the only thought in his head watch out for Sammy, but in the healthy way that Sam already somehow managed, true maturity instead of faking it because he had to.

Not just a mom, were the words he remembered most clearly.

But now he’d lost her again, and with her any chance of showing her how far he’d come. A foolish, selfish notion perhaps, but one that he’d been nursing in his chest for a very long time: the desire to prove his father wrong, to prove to himself that he wasn’t broken beyond repair, to prove to Mary that it had been her, not John, who had been the one to lay the foundation for the person he wanted to be. The person he could choose to be.

Without her he was struggling to remember why he should bother. Doing things for his own gain felt stupid and narcissistic, another lesson that John had imprinted in him. If somebody else didn’t need it from him then what was the point? Not that Mary had needed to see Dean figure out how to become a person but when she was alive at least he could lie to himself.

He’d retreated since Jack got his soul back. From everyone. Sam had been giving him space, Jack he actively avoided, and whatever progress he’d made with Cas had backslid into tiptoeing on eggshells around the guy, not wanting to hear how much he hated Dean for not showing his son the courtesy of accepting an apology, and definitely not wanting to risk a fight that led to him taking off again. He didn’t know how to fix any of it. How could he make himself forgive Jack? How could he make himself come to terms with everything he’d lost that his mother had represented to him? How could he stop missing Mary herself? The empty hole inside, imperfectly shaped, moulded around the two different Mary’s that he’d known just seemed to grow more ragged at the edges.

He was out in the woods, of course, at the spot Mary’s body had reappeared. This was where he came now when the air felt too stifling inside. It was like a grave, he supposed, a place to come and think about what a person meant to you. He’d never really had that before. He’d only been to Mary’s grave in Lawrence twice, on the day she was put in it and the day, twelve years later, that he’d had to go back. They’d moved around too much when he was young and though Bobby had offered to take him more than once when John had dumped them at his place, Dean had always refused, knowing his dad wouldn’t like it and not really seeing the point anyway.

He understood the point now. Even without a marker he still felt her here. Which he knew was dumb, because she was in Heaven with a husband who’d never really existed and two children who she’d never got to see grow up and hopefully, hopefully the two adult sons who’d grown up without her, the ones she could be proud of.

He sniffed. He always cried when he came here, he’d stopped trying to fight it. He didn’t talk to Mary, of course. She couldn’t hear him and he didn’t have anything worth saying anyway. He just came here to try and untangle the mess of thoughts in his head, maybe so he could figure out what to do next, how to fix everything without undoing whatever progress he’d made for himself.

“Dean?”

He froze, the age-old tactic of ‘if I don’t respond it’ll go away’. It didn’t of course. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t an it, it was Cas.

“What are you doing out here?”

Dean shrugged, casual. “Just needed some air.” He didn’t turn, but he heard the sound of recognition Cas made when he realised the significance of this particular spot.

“Avoiding Jack?”

Dean turned to automatically deny it but Cas’ face was calm and without judgement. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know he’s coming on strong,” he continued. “I’ve tried to get him to dial it back a little but he really wants to talk to you.”

“I can’t do it, Cas.” Dean said, looking back to the place his mother’s body had materialised, his voice little more than a scrape. “I can’t look him in the eye and tell him that that I’m over it. I’m not. I might not ever be.”

There was a click in Cas’ throat as he swallowed. Then, “Your forgiveness is only part of it,” he said slowly. “Albeit a major part, but he understands, Dean. He understands that what he did can’t be written off, he just wants to hear it from you. If you explain it to him, tell him that you just need time and you’ll go to him when you’re ready, he won’t keep apologising. He’s just trying to get a reaction, I think, though sometimes even I want to snap at him.”

Dean chewed that over for a moment. Cas made it sound so simple. Maybe it wasn’t so black and white as either lying to the kid or yelling that he’ll never forgive him—the only two options that Dean had been able to come up with so far—of course, it meant talking, which Dean was notoriously bad at, but the way Cas broke it down, it didn’t sound so hard. Jack was a smart kid for a three-year-old after all, and he could definitely understand ‘I don’t hate you but I need time’, which was basically what his feelings boiled down to. He didn’t have to explain everything. Hell, he’d never even tell Sam everything but Jack deserved at least the basics, what with the way he’d been freezing the kid out lately.

“What’s the other part?” he asked suddenly, remembering the first thing Cas had said, he twisted his neck around to see Cas frowning at him, his head tilted adorably to one side (yeah, he thought it, so what?).

“Isn’t it obvious? He misses you.”

Dean just blinked stupidly. “Huh?”

Cas huffed and walked forward to stand at his side. Somehow he knew not to walk in front of him and obscure his view of the clearing, but instead stayed a solid presence next to him. Cas was good like that, Dean thought, he just knew things so they didn’t have to be said; he understood in the quiet kind of way that meant more to him than he could ever express, but he was pretty sure Cas knew that too. Still, sometimes he toyed with the idea of saying it aloud.

“He misses spending time with you,” Cas clarified. “You took him fishing once, let him drive your car, taught him how to fire a gun and got him hooked on those horror films you like. He loves you, Dean, and he hates that he hurt you.”

Dean looked down then, and he dug the toe of his boot into the soft dirt. “Oh.”

A comforting weight landed on his shoulder and he didn’t need to look up at the sudden touch. Somehow, Cas had become a safe person even to his subconscious. He didn’t know when that had happened, honestly he tried not to look too closely at it, but he’d arrived at a place now where he could admit to himself, however briefly, that he really, really liked that it had.

“You’re his father too, Dean. Just as much as and me and Sam. You know that, right?

Dean shrugged the shoulder Cas wasn’t touching, not wanting him to remove his hand. “I was thinking of myself more like the fun uncle,” he said, trying to keep his tone light through the ball in his throat.

“No you weren’t.” Cas said, soft but firm, not letting Dean joke his way out of this. Which, actually, he was okay with. Cas always knew how far he could push, how far Dean needed to be pushed. Even when Sam couldn’t get the balance right, Cas always could. Still, he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t try.

“Prove it,” he said, flashing a grin at the angel, who merely rolled his eyes and let his hand drop. Suddenly, he was the one toeing at the grass, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said. “For what it’s worth.”

“I’m right here.” Dean said, and then it was too late to take it back, because this wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. He was supposed to make another joke, a playful jab, not admiring the way the freckles of sunlight through the trees highlighted the chestnut in Cas’ hair, nor heeding the gentle warmth in his belly that only happened around Cas, nor stepping forward to place his own hand on Cas’ shoulder because he needed the contact, he needed to be grounded in these last few moments before he fucked everything up, again, and that pleasant warm feeling was beginning to twist into panic.

But then Cas met his eyes and he breathed again, even though the look in them was melancholy.

“You haven’t been,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding me as well. Or, not avoiding but you’ve been different. I wonder if perhaps you’re unable to forgive me either, but too kind to say so.”

Dean almost snorted. He was a lot of things, some of them even good, but kind wasn’t even in the top fifty. Cas gave him a look that said he knew what he was thinking and not to respond to it, so instead he pushed through his instinct and went with pure honesty.

“I can’t forgive you because I never blamed you, Cas, not really. I was just lashing out because… I dunno, because I expect more from you than I should, I guess. And it’s not fair, I know that, I just… I’m used to you fixing things, and I don’t know what to do when you can’t. And you left because I was being a dick and I can’t blame you for that. I can’t be mad because I let you slip away.”

Cas’ expression shifted then, and it was only that moment that Dean realised they were standing so close. One of Dean’s hands gripped at the arm of that damned coat and Cas was so close that he could probably—fuck—he could probably see the small tracks his tears had made. Dean was so close that he could make out the hope in Cas’ eyes, and for the first time, he wasn’t scared shitless at the sight of it. Or at least, he wasn’t so terrified that he could let Cas slip away again.

“I’m right here,” Cas echoed.

“We could be something.” Dean said, his voice a very unattractive croak, well aware that talking about this shit was so far from his wheelhouse it had a different zip code. His breath hit a few errant hairs on Cas’ forehead and they flinched in rhythm to the slight bump at the crest of each inhale where their chests nudged together. “If, you know, if you wan—”

Cas was already kissing him.

[a19yearoldtryinherbest]

McLovin. Pt3 [Officer Slater]

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2

Prompt: Meeting the parents is hard, specially if you weren't supposed to yet.

Warning: Swearing.

A/N: I just love this soft idiot. Thanks for the request anon!

All the request I haven’y attended to will become part of the 15 Days Of Hader thing that start Monday.

Word count: 2729

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There was a soft sound outside her bedroom that made Amy wake up.

She opened her eyes and was immediately blinded by the sun coming from her window. But that didn't make any sense, her bed never got sunlight on the morning, and it was definitely early morning. Then she remembered, she wasn't in her college bedroom, she was at her old bedroom. Then she panicked a little because it was morning, she was at her parent's house, she had to help her brother because it was moving day and Slater was still asleep next to her.

She shook his arm slightly, hearing her brother curse out his friends about dropping one of his boxes — Honey. Wake up. — somehow he didn't, so she shook him a bit harder — Slater! — she exclaimed, still maintaining a low voice.

He woke up at that moment, reacting as if he had received a small amount of electricity, almost falling out of bed. He looked at Amy confused as she tried to contain her laughter. He laughed a little as she composed herself and started making him stand up — Common, dork, — she laughed out almost kicking him out of the bed — you've got to go before-

Amy was cut off by her mother opening up the door — Sweetie it's eleven AM and you promised your- — Margaret stopped herself once she looked inside the bedroom. Her eyes darted between the guy in his white boxer -who she had met only once, on similar situation- and her daughter. Maggie, ever so graceful, chuckled a bit and grabbed the handle again — Oh, I'm sorry. I'll let you two get decent. Just come down and help your brother get his thing in the car. — and before any of them could say or think something Maggie had closed the door and left them there to feel embarrassed for a few second before Slater started laughing.

— That was so not funny. — Amy muttered trying not to laugh, flustered and completely embarrassed, covering her face with her hands.

He sat besides her and kissed her shoulder, still smiling — It kind of was. — he said, letting out a small chuckle before she slapped his arm playfully, laughing a little — C'mon, let's get dressed and help McLovin.

They got dressed and went down stairs, they stopped at the kitchen entrance, seeing Maggie scold her husband — I don't care, David. — Amy's father looked beyond annoyed, like a little kid who wasn't getting what he wanted — Promise me you'll behave. — David, reluctantly nodded before looking away and seeing his daughter and her boyfriend, standing perfectly still. Maggie saw the face her husband was making and turned around, she froze for a second and then smiled and said — Oh, I'm sorry you had to see that. — Amy nodded knowingly to herself, understanding what her mother was doing — Any of you want lemonade? I'm about to make some.

Amy looked at Slater and saw him looking so confused. She looked back at her mother and nodded — Sure, we'll take two. — her mother smiled and turned to the kitchen table — We'll go ahead and help the nerds. — Amy grabbed Slater's hand to guide him to the living room.

He was still looking dazed when they got there. He looked towards the kitchen and then at her girlfriend — Did she not realize we heard?

Amy smiled at him and shook her head slightly — No. She knew, she does that. One time, when I was like, twelve, I walked in on them having sex and then she acted like nothing had happened. — Slater laughed shortly and gave her a childish smile that she returned, rolling her eyes and shaking her head — We just got to play along.

— Play along? — he asked, incredulous. She looked at him confused, as he gestured towards the kitchen — They just were talking about how much your dad hates me.

Amy looked at him and smiled sweetly with a bit of sympathy, tilting her head a little to the right — He doesn't hate you. — she said and he gave her a look that somehow was half "are you kidding me" and half "it's so sweet of you to try" — I don't think he does. — she hesitated but immediately shook her head getting rid of the train of thought that was about to leave the station — It doesn't matter if he does. I don't hate you. — she teased a bit at the end but he didn't catched it, he was a bit too distracted for that

— I mean, it matters if we want him to give you away at our wedding. — he thought out loud without really wanting to. When he realized what he had said he snapped to see Amy's reaction. She was looking at him with a bit of surprised and a lot of love He was endearing. He had always been endearing to her. She hadn't admit it to herself yet but she was in love with him, and she fell further in love every day. She fell by the way he would look at her as if she was the only thing in the world, the sweet kisses he would leave on her shoulder before falling asleep, the mess he would leave after trying to make breakfast and how supportive and attentive he would be when she was studying. She smiled sweetly, making his cheek fluster bright red in embarrassment — I- — he sighted softly and relaxed his shoulders — I just want him to like me.

Amy's smile morphed to a tender one, like if she had seen a puppy run and fall before standing up and running again. She held Slater's left cheek, making him look at her with the sad and pleading look he was wearing — He's gonna love you. — she promised, leaning closer to him and grabbing his other cheek — What's not to love? — Slater couldn't help but to smile, his heart filling with the warmest feeling he had felt. She leaned in for a soft and quick kiss, just to reassure him she meant it. Quickly after it was over he leaned in for a softer and longer kiss, just for the sake of it, just because he wanted to and could.

They were quickly interrupted by Seth saying — I can't believe we were afraid of this fucking pussy. — Slater and Amy turned to see Seth, Evan and McLovin. She gave them a questioning look, wondering when and why were they afraid of her boyfriend.

— Who's the one who should be putting his pussy on the ground. — joked Evan. Amy looked back at her boyfriend as he gave them a stern look that made them all stay quiet and still.

— Go. — he ordered and they did as they were told, almost scrambling towards the exit.

Amy chuckled a little, impressed and confused — What was that about? — she asked.

He looked at her, the stern parental look he gave the teenagers already gone — I almost arrested them the night we met. — he explained before smiling at the memory — They were scared shitless.

Amy laughed at the thought and dropped the topic to get both of them outside to help with the boxes. It wasn't long before everything was in Maggie's minivan and ready to go. When they were finished David stepped outside and said — Maggie made lasagna if any of you want to stay for lunch. — somehow he had made it sound harsh. The teenagers took upon the offer in a heartbeat, it took the other two a silent debate that Amy won to take the offer.

It was silent, very silent at least for the couples, Evan, Seth and Fogell kept talking about god knows what. They didn't sense the tension shared between the two men, or maybe they didn't care. Slater really wanted to realise the tension but every time he talked he was received with a calculating and cold look or a opposing commentaries, both from David. It was nerve wrecking. Amy and Maggie tried to keep the conversation going but it would hit a dead end in seconds. Amy kept her hand on her boyfriend's as a show of support and encouragement and Maggie kept throwing stern looks to David as an order to be nicer. Still David kept doing what he wanted, knowing he was going to get scold later.

Maggie, tired of the silence and the mistreating of the poor guy brought her son and his friends into the conversation — Fogell, honey, — she said, McLovin complaining about the name and muttering that she shouldn't call him that — is your dorm room near your sister's? — she asked. The two sibling shared a look, McLovin's was mostly asking “what's going on” while Amy's was pleading him to follow along, so he did.

— I don't think so. — he rambled, unsure — I'm near the science building. — he repaired, looking at her sister for some input.

— Yeah, no. That's on the other side of campus. — Amy clarified and the table fell silent again. Amy, after awkwardly playing with the fork and food on her plate, said — I heard their nicer. The one your staying.

— Are yours not nice? — interrupted their mother.

— No, I- — she looked at her mother, a bit caught off guard — I guess they're nice, — and without thinking much of it looked at her boyfriend and said — right?

— Yeah, — he said without thinking much of it either — big bedrooms.

On the other hand Amy's father thought of it, looking at the calmed manner they were saying it as some sort of betrayal — You've been to her bedroom? — he dared to ask put it didn't sound like a question. He said it as if he knew it for a fact, with false peace on his voice and real anger in his eyes. Like a mother bear seeing something approach her cub, ready to attack.

And that moment, when they looked at his eyes, they knew they had fucked up — Uhm. — Slater mumbled, feeling the same fear Evan and Seth felt when they first met him. He looked at David's eyes, it was almost the same look he had the first time he had met him. The memory was a bit hazy, he was high, but the fire that was burning behind David's eyes weren't something anyone could forget that easily.

Amy could've sworn she saw a vein grow twice it's size in her father's forehead. He seemed he was about to kick Slater out, probably by force, but Maggie put a stop to his plan — David! Amy is a grown woman, she can have a boy in her bedroom. — she scolded him. Everyone on the table seemed to old their breaths for a reaction from David. Luckily all he did was to let t a heavy breath and a small “ok”

Amy gave her mother a thankful look that her mother replied to with an easy and quick smirk before trying to keep the conversation going — So... how do you kids know Slater? — she said, clearly talking to Evan and Seth, who were playing with their forks as if they were swords before being pulled into the tension of the family.

— What? — asked Evan, still holding this fork in the air.

— Well, Fogell told us about the ride along he went with him and- — she looked at Slater before asking — Michaels was it? — he quickly nodded in response, feeling his stomach flip a little by remembering the story — but he never mentioned you two in it.

— Oh. — mumbled Evan, aware of how deeply terrible the story was for a family dinner like that one. It had all of the bad stuff. A police officer driving under the influence, hitting an underage kid who was caring two gallons of beer he stole from a party, followed by abuse of power from the police officer and the three teenagers running away from the police. Not great — Yeah, the ride along he, uh, he did. — he was looking at his friend for help.

— Yeah, the night before that party we, uh, we got you all out of. — Slater said, trying to give him the story they had made up, hoping he wouldn't fuck up and rat them out.

— Yeah, that- uh Fogell called you. That's how we- uhm- we met him. — he stumbled through the word enough for everyone to note he was nervous — And Michaels.

— Oh, I didn't know that. Did they drop you off at your places? — Maggie asked, before taking the lat bite off her meal. She seemed to know they were lying, which made Evan more nervous, but that wasjust her general way of speaking.

— No, I slept at his place. — Seth said.

Soon enough the meal was over and they were outside, saying goodbyes. Seth said quick and dry goodbyes to both of their friends, saying he had to go fuck her girlfriend but it was obvious he didn't want to get emotional, Evan just said a “see you later” since he was going to be Fogell's roommate in a few hours. The rest went towards the car, almost further dilating the goodbye for no reason at all.

Slater kept close to Amy, hand lingering on her back, and her father hated it. There wasn't anything bad or inappropriate on his touch, it was sweet and caring, but he wasn't a fan of the guy so everything he would do, no matter how pure, sweet or innocent he would frown upon it. Amy knew it but there wasn't much she could do about it. If her dad didn't like him wasn't her problem -even if it kind of was- she wasn't going to stop loving him.

Maggie hugged her daughter and then hugged Slater — It was a pleasure to meet you. — she assured, letting him go from the hug — I hope to see you around. — on the corner of her eye, Amy and Slater saw her father make a face to those words. Luckily her mother hadn't seen it or she would've said something.

Maggie stepped back and looked at her husband, as if to pressure him to do something. That something being stretching his hand for Slater to take, which he did. And David squeezed his hand a bit too hard — Nice to meet you. — he said, he wasn't even slightly convincing.

They both tore apart from the handshake. And there was a quick beat of silence before Maggie said another goodbye and got in the driver's seat, prompting David to get in the car as well. Fogell opened the car door but his sister stopped him from getting in it by locking him and a half hug before messing up his hair — See you on campus, weirdo. — she let go of the hug, leaving McLovin to accommodate his hair and get in the car. Amy grabbed the door and, before closing, jokingly said — Don't embarrass our family out there. — he smiled at her through the window as the car started to leave.

Amy crossed her arms over her chest and watched the car go. As the car got further into the distance Slater hugged her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder — They grow up so fast. — he teased, making her laugh a little. She grabbed his arms, holding him back, and they stayed a few seconds in the sweet comfort of each other's embrace. She wasn't thinking past his arms and felt as everything was at peace, but not an unsettling, false calm before the storm peace, actual peace, like if everything was right in the world. Slater broke her out of that haze with a quick kiss on her neck — By the way, your dad still hates me.

[frangipanidownunder]

Fox Mulder’s Guide to Building a Pool: part 2

Read Part 1

A/N This is in answer to an anon prompt: Mulder builds a pool in the yard. It ran away from me so I’ll post it in two parts.

This is set post IWTB and assumes Season 10 didn’t happen. Because it shouldn’t have, am I right? Angsty to start with.

Winter

November rushed headlong into house and yard with blizzards and ice storms and squealing winds under the doors. The pool project remained as frozen as the ground but his brain was always planning. Winter was the end of things, yet, even as he scraped freezing condensation from the inside of the windows, he felt a kind of resurgence. Like his bare, unadorned spirit had rested enough to begin anew. It helped that he spoke to Scully often, random phone calls, text messages with links to articles she’d found on cryptid sightings or arcane deaths. Her emoji use was spot on. Aliens and foxes and ghosts and a solitary blue heart.

Christmas Eve and she sent him a message about a sighting of a ‘gargantuan, hirsute humanoid’ in a Florida forest and after reading it with a sense of comforting familiarity and relieved distance, he googled the meaning of the blue heart. Trust, harmony, peace and loyalty. Reading into emojis had to rank right up there on the Fox Mulder Chart of Weirdness but the idea of it, that she had carefully researched this colour and chosen it as the one to close off her messages to him, took root in his own heart and he felt a burst of that same restless energy that had plagued him for months.

He walked to the back door, chancing a look out. A smirry rain fell, leaving the bare branches oily in the low light. Further around, the pool, sunk below the hard, cold earth was a gaping dark mouth, the concrete bearing the marks of months of bad weather. In one corner, debris from the yard had collected, twigs and small stones, plastic wrapping floating in the grimy pool of melted snow that covered the base.

The sound of her voice as she picked up the call pulled a smile to his lips. She sounded pleased to hear from him. Excited almost.

“Hey.” It was an extended version of her usual greeting. A stretching of the word into something more. His heart skipped. “I know you don’t celebrate, but Happy Christmas, Mulder.”

It would have been typical for him to make some flippant remark about stockings or mistletoe but instead, he raked up the trash in the pool as he wished her season’s greetings and listened to her stories of wrapping gifts for the kids at work and the terribly formal staff dinner where the turkey was overcooked and the hasselbacks were rubbery and she left early so she could pull on her pyjamas and robe and watch It’s a Wonderful Life and then, after a breathy pause, added, that it wasn’t the same on her own.

“What’s that noise?” she asked.

He could have said it was the sound of his heart breaking free of his ribcage but he shook his head at himself and took a deep breath. “Would you believe me if I said I was cleaning the pool?” She laughed and he burst right through her green light. “Did you want to come over, Scully?”

She would very much love to, she said, and he held the phone to his chest while he scraped out the detritus against the side wall one-handed. The first flake of snow landed and he looked up to the silver heavens and whispered a thank-you.

Guilt crept in when he saw a parcel in her hand. “I didn’t get you anything, Scully.” He took her coat, the bag of groceries and the gift and she said she’d forgive him and he grinned at her as he rattled the box until she tutted and snatched it back from him.

“I’ll put it under the tree,” she said but the living room was empty of seasonal decor and she looked down at the gift and her feet and he wondered if he could pull out all the boxes in the attic to retrieve the decorations but she shook her head and laughed through her nose. “Don’t worry about it.” She could still read him like a book.

The intensity of the storm took them by surprise, heaping snow against the window sills and the door and Scully’s car until everything was silent-white and glistening. He poured brandy over ice and she sank into the couch next to him wrapped in a blanket and wearing a resigned smile.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m not due at mom’s until New Year. I was going to be working but that changed, so I have no plans.” She squeezed his knee and there was a glint in her eye that had him almost believing that she’d engineered the weather, just like that Holman guy from years before, but Dana Scully MD was no lovelorn meteorologist. She was the sender of blue heart emojis, the bringer of turkey steaks and farmer’s market vegetables, she was the best present ever, the three wise men and more.

She was also a little tipsy, he thought, eyeing her reddened cheeks and the way she shucked off her boots to tuck her ankles under her ass. He hadn’t seen her so loose for years. He’d spent too long ignoring her that by the time she left she was coiled like wire rope and just as cool to touch.

“If this storm keeps up maybe we can skate on your pool,” she said and giggled, pressing her fingers under her nose.

“You want to rush me to ER with multiple fractures on Christmas morning, Scully?” He swallowed the liquor.

Her face straightened and she cleared her throat. “It will be strange, won’t it, being here tomorrow? Waking up on Christmas morning together. It’s not something we’ve done for…”

“Three years,” he said and let that settle between them before adding, “but I’m looking forward to it.”

“Because it feels like we’ve moved past…all that?”

All that. All that rage and disappointment. All that bitterness and rancour. All that unsaid. Too much said. “Because it feels fated,” he said. And she pulled a face. “Preordained, inexorable.”

“Destined,” she said, leaning forward. “Portentous?”

He chuckled. “That has a negative connotation, like foreshadowed. It’s more ominous than auspicious.”

“I’m going to have to take back that Thesaurus and buy you something else, Mulder.” She nodded to the present on the table.

“I used to be poor,” he said and she quirked her eyebrow. “Then my partner bought me a thesaurus and now I’m impecunious.”

Her snort was half-laugh, half-surprise. “We’re not…”

“I know.”

The next morning dawned clear and Mulder was already awake. Had hardly slept. Like a child at Christmas, he thought wryly, impatient for his gift. Scully wasn’t for unwrapping though. At this stage, he was lucky she was here to decorate his living room. The brightest star. An angel.

She was dressed in his old anorak he’d used years before to clear the yard when they first moved in. It surrounded her like a canoe, pointed hood above her head and falling to almost her ankles. She was dragging something behind her, leaving a thick trail through the snow. Mulder opened the door and she huffed through, revealing her treasure – a small pine tree, dripping melting snow in grey piles on the floor.

He found a box of decorations behind a wall of old books, dusted them off and climbed back down the ladder. She’d made cocoa and found marshmallows from that Mary Poppins bag of hers. She added a dash of brandy with a hair of the dog wink and they made the tree pretty.

Flipping pancakes, he watched her as she sat in the chair near the window, wrapped now in one of his sweaters, pink-stockinged feet crossed. “If you squint through these blinds, Mulder, and use your imagination, of which you received a wild and overly large share, it looks like there’s a snow monster in the pool.”

“Are you still drunk, Scully?” He bent beside her, close enough to see the dark skin on the mole above her lip.

“I am not, look! There. See it? It’s got shifty eyes and a long nose.”

He rubbed at his own features and she jabbed his hand away.

“It’s there. I swear. Come on, I’ll show you.” She shot up and dragged him outside where the cold shrunk his skin around his bones. The sky threatened to unload again and she shivered despite her layers. He slunk an arm around her shoulders and she swayed into him. “There. Look. See?” Her finger pointed but he couldn’t have seen a thing beyond the fact that she was there, right next to him in the dead of winter, gesticulating to a lump of frozen water.

“At least when Frosty the Snowmonster dies, the pool will be quarter full,” he said, holding open the door for her. She dipped under his arm and it felt like old times.

Spring

Blossom hugged the ends of branches, pom-poms of pink dipping on the breeze. The sun was watery-warm and birdsong amplified the hope of the season. He’d tiled the pool himself, enjoying he exact nature of the work. The water delivery contractor was late but the from his vantage point on the front deck, Mulder couldn’t care less. Just for an hour or so, he could afford to do nothing. He told himself he deserved it. He let his eyes slip shut.

“Can’t a girl get a fanfare any more?” Scully was standing at the foot of the steps, casual in blue jeans and a fitted mint-green tee, her hair was pulled back in a scruffy ponytail that usually signified she was about to get messy.

He made trumpet noises and she bowed when she reached the deck. From her tote she took out a bag of pastries. He liked this version of Scully. He liked her very much. This soft, coquettish variety gave him hope like the spring and made him feel lighter.

“I’ll make coffee,” he said and ushered her through with a theatrical wave.

The truck arrived two hours late but that was two hours passed with Scully who spent her time asking questions about the pump and the pool fence requirements and whether he was going to plant a garden and how much she loved the mosaic tile design on the bottom and whether he’d considered a shade sail. She wrinkled her nose and her freckles danced. He had a vision of her sunburnt and cranky.

“I’ll order one before the heat hits,” he said, solemnly.

“Don’t do it just for me,” she said, over the din of the hose being unravelled from the truck.

As though he would do anything for anyone else. He’d spent much of the time since the Father Joe case doing things only for himself. He couldn’t see it then, but his focus had narrowed beyond the scope of voiceless victims, beyond the purview of his domestic responsibilities and from his refreshed perspective, he could see now how Scully had been cut out of his orbit.

“Did you imagine this when we first moved in here?”

“You designing and constructing a pool, sundeck and safety fence? Mulder, when we first moved here you couldn’t have built a house of cards. Remember when the screen door fell off the hinges and you tried to fix it but ended up breaking the drill. You were so angry, a wounded animal fighting off any help. I thought…” she covered her eyes with her hand to watch the water running over the bottom of the pool, steadily rising, filling the void. “I should have left sooner. Maybe you would have rediscovered this…this spirit of yours earlier.”

“You think your leaving prompted me to do all this?”

“Didn’t it?”

“It took more than three years of you not…”

She sucked in a breath and it dawned on him that she was still hurting too. Would it ever stop? Or was the pain destined to be a constant companion to remind them of their failings? Was building a pool really just a diversion from the agony of Scully being gone? Was her position at the hospital just her version of a building project? She was building herself a better life and he was building a pool.

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing gently. “For not trying harder.”

The drone of the truck’s motor stuttered to a halt and he looked down at her. She was gazing at the water as it slapped at the sides, settling. “You have nothing to apologise for, Scully. I closed off, shut down, kept you out and then got mad at you when you made a new life.”

“We were both pretty closed off, Mulder. Talking for hours but never saying enough. Remember how we used to spend days on the road and never have to say a thing. We could go for miles in silence. It didn’t bother us then, so when did that change?”

“I think the truth of it is that we were both just talking at each other, trying to get our voices heard, but we didn’t care to listen for fear of actually hearing.”

She raised those brows of hers and smiled. “That’s very deep and heartfelt.”

The truck reversed and he looked down at the water and the moving outline of the blue love heart he’d tiled at the bottom of the pool. “Just like my pool.”

The first time she came over for a swim, she presented him with a new beach towel. It had a fox face on it and she was so proud of herself. She let him splash her and she bombed him and he didn’t want her to leave but he watched her drive away and sat on the verandah for hours after the sun went down.

She phoned to say she was coming over again and that gave him an idea. After all, he owed her two gifts now. So he went online and shopped.

Taking the parcel, she dipped her head in gratitude. “This better not be a beach towel with Big Blue on it, Mulder, or I swear to God…” She ripped the package open scattering paper everywhere. She held it up. It was a one-piece swimsuit the colour of those Caribbean island beaches, azure, the colour of her eyes. She pulled a face, whispering a wow and telling him he shouldn’t have because people might talk.

“Let them talk,” he called out, as she slipped into the house to change. “What else could they say about us that we haven’t heard already, Mrs Spooky.”

When she returned, she was wearing the bathing suit and a knee-length cream sarong. She pulled a wide-brimmed hat out of her bag and went to put it on but he stopped her.

“Just one more thing,” he said, finding the smaller parcel. “This is a very late birthday or really early Christmas present. Take your pick.”

“Another gift? You already got me this suit and I’m wondering if I should really spend the afternoon with a man who buys lingerie for a single woman…”

“It’s lingerie?” His voice was high-pitched because he was genuinely curious and a little sorry about her use of the word single which seemed unnecessary but she grinned wickedly and he breathed out in relief. “Damn. If I’d have known that I would have bought that red lace number…”

“Don’t push your luck, Mulder.”

The small gift was wrapped in silver frosted paper decorated with a gold bow. She opened this one with much more care and when she lifted the lid and saw the silver chain with the blue topaz heart pendant, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s beautiful, Mulder. You shouldn’t have. It’s too much.”

“Trust, harmony, peace and loyalty. Blue hearts. That’s what they mean.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned and he clipped the necklace under the hair. “You’re reading a lot into an emoji.” Was he? Maybe. Did he care? Not much. She turned to face him, stood on tiptoe and kissed him, softly, gently, with love. “But you’ve always looked beyond the obvious. And that’s why I love you.”

Love. Not loved. He took her hand and walked her to the edge. “Ready?”

She didn’t answer but tugged at his wrist and pulled him forward so they both plunged into the deep blue, going down and down.

[wewillwriteyou]

Hi! 💙 Could I get a prompt with Joe Mazzello, Quote [36], Smut[5], enemies to lover kinda drama? Thank you sm, ly 💕💙💕

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! 💙 We hope this is what you were looking for 🤸🏼‍♀️🌸

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Quote [36]: “It’s so hard for me to hate you right now.”

Smut [5]: Sex in a public place

Plot requests: enemies to lovers

Warnings: SMUT under the cut! (please read it only if you’re 18+); unprotected sex [PLEASE ALWAYS BE SAFE FOLKS, LIFE ISN’T A FANFICTION], language then and there what’s new?, FLUFF at some point

Characters: Y/N & Joe Mazzello

Word count: 2.6K words

Written by: @deakyswhitequeen

Disclaimers:

This is a work of fiction. In this case, we created an “Alternate Universe” for our character, so please, know that it’s all coming from our wild imagination.

Love you, folks xxx

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Request a story from this prompt list!

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Mondays were the worst. Of all the seven days in a week, Mondays were definitely your least favourites. Not only cause it meant the weekend was over, but also because it meant you were required to share some regular screen time with the devil in the body of Joseph Mazzello.

You’d been working at that tv news program for like six months and every damn Monday morning you had to open the news with him. The super host. The man everyone loved and praised. The man who’d got every man’s dream job and who was every woman’s – and sometimes men’s – dream.

Everyone was at his feet. He’d always find the way to show off and somehow people loved him for that. He had a way with people and everybody wanted to be his friend.

You’d always hated that guy.

Since your first day as his co-host, when he’d mistaken you for an assistant and asked you to bring him his morning coffee. When you explained to him you didn’t work for him but with him, he’d asked you to call somebody and bring him his coffee instead.

You did. And when they handed you the coffee you accidentally spilled some on his notes, earning from him a few not-so-nice nicknames right away.

You could not care less. Laughter and whistles from all over the office boosted your ego. This could be fun… The perk of the situation was that nobody could say a thing: after all, it had only been an accident.

For the last six months it had always been bickering and cheap shots between the two of you and, even if it was kinda fun battling with him, you still hated the guy.

Like every Monday morning, that day you had arrived at the studio right on time and had the time to fetch a coffee and head into your friend Scott’s office to find the strength to face Mr Mazzello for the whole day.

“Honey, you are gonna wear yourself out if you keep on going with this battle thing… why don’t you just stop bothering about him?”

“Scott, you’re not listening to me…” you huffed, placing your empty cup on his desk, “I can’t back down… This’s been going for so long that he’ll just think he’s won!”

“And… would that be so bad?”

“Yes! He’s a jerk and he needs to be taught a lesson” you mindlessly straightened the wrinkles on your skirt “I just haven’t figured out what lesson will do it…”

You caught Scott raising both his eyebrows at the same time.

“What?” you asked

He shook his head “Nothing, nothing darling…”

You sat on the edge of his desk and crossed your arms on your chest, meaning you would not have left his office till he’d told you what he was thinking.

He scoffed “Alright, alright…” he looked at you n the eyes “But you promise me you won’t get angry.”

You traced a cross on your heart “Promise”.

He nodded “Seems like you’re a bit obsessed by the guy lately… I mean… you look like grade school kids teasing each other. Is there any chance – and please don’t hit me – that you might be into him?”

“WHAT?!” you immediately slapped his upper arm.

“Ow! I said don’t hit me!”

“Sorry… it’s just that your speaking nonsense… bullshit, if you will”

You’d lie to yourself if you said you’d never thought about that… but you had also always told yourself that it was definitely bullshit. The guy was your worst enemy. Nothing more, nothing less.

Scott chuckled and shook his head, “Whatever, Y/N, I was just wondering…”

You stared into each other’s eyes for half a second, before you cleared your throat and stood up.

“I have to go” you started, your voice calm and low “Thanks for bearing with my shits, Scott”

He smiled and winked, “I’m here for you, honey”

Walking out of his office, you headed to Clothes & Makeup to get ready for the show. You closed the door of the dressing room behind you and set on at the makeup stall to fix your hair.

“Cindy, I’ll need another shirt for this morning, that new assistant spilled coffee on my sleeve…” that voice was unmistakable.

“Well maybe you deserved it…” you promptly answered to the man approaching the makeup stall.

Joseph Mazzello in all his greatness.

He narrowed his eyes “No-one asked for your opinion, Miss Fix-My-Hair-Or-The-World-Might-End-Tonight…”

You scoffed “That nickname is almost as lame as you are… Oh no, wait, that’s not possible”

“Ouch,” he placed a hand on his heart theatrically “that really hurt”

You mimicked him and quickly turned around on the stool, determinate to ignore him.

“Cindy’s off work today” you informed him.

He exhaled loudly “Could you please help me choose a shirt?” he asked in a purposely flat tone.

You leered, slowly turning your head towards him.

“No”, you enunciated. Getting up from where you were seated, you walked to the door and smirked to him before turning the handle to conclude your scenic exit.

What you hadn’t expected was the handle falling to the ground and locking you in the room with the most annoying person in the whole world.

You gradually turned to him, only to find him with a huge smile on his face.

“Do you have something to do with this?” you asked.

He scrolled his shoulders without erasing his cheeky smile

“You freak! Is this your fault?!” your voice squeakier than usual.

At that change of tone, he burst out laughing.

“You bastard…” you mumbled on your teeth, trying to work the handle again, “What’s the matter with you?!?! We have to work! People will wonder where we are! Oh God will they think we are…?”

“Screwing? Yeah, they probably will” he finished the sentence for you.

“Ugh, I can’t believe it! Did you do this on purpose? Why??”

He chuckled and shook his head again, taking a step closer to you.

“It’s just a fortunate coincidence… But I did hope we could talk alone some time…”

“About what?” your voice harsher and harsher.

He smiled cheekily “About us”

Blood filled your veins and you suddenly saw everything red.

“US? WHAT IS ‘US’?? I–”

“Calm down, tiger,” he interrupted you “I mean about this tension between us… It’s not healthy, Y/N, I think we should drop this act…”

“Act?”

He furrowed his eyebrows “Yes. You prank me, I prank you, we bicker… let’s stop all that and talk about the real stuff that is between us…”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion “Is supposed to be a joke or…?”

He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at his feet as he took another step forward, then at last his eyes met yours.

He had a cheeky and mischievous grin painted on his face.

Ugh, I wanna kiss him. No, PUNCH HIM!, I wanna punch him.

“C’mon Y/N, I know you feel it too…” he began, then puffed when you still acted like you had no idea what he was talking about “The sexual tension? You cannot tell me you are unaware of it…”

“I don’t know what you talking about…” you lied.

“What a dirty liar, miss Y/N…” he laughed, “I know you feel it too. I can see it written all over your face”.

You were suddenly very aware that he was like ten inches away from you and you gulped. He was right (for once in his life). Still, you tried to remember to yourself why you did not like him.

You shook your head “Joseph, I–”

“Please, Joseph’s my father. Call me Joe”

You exhaled and started again “Joseph, there is nothing between us. And just so you know, there can never be. I hate you. You hate me. End of story…”

“You think I hate you?”

You crossed your arms on your chest “Well, yeah… that’s the essence and the extent of our ‘relationship’”

He shook his head “You are so stubborn”

You raised your eyebrow “Yeah, that’s the key to a girl’s pants: insulting her.”

He suddenly closed the distance between you two, his lips violently looking for yours and his tongue darting in your mouth. Joe walked the two of you to the nearest wall and pinned your arms against it by the sides of your body.

When he pulled away to gain some breath again, he stared into your eyes, his lips inches from yours.

Snapping back to reality and forcing yourself to ignore the heat that had expanded throughout your body, you scrolled your arms and freed your wrists of his grip.

“We are supposed to hate each other” was the only thing your lips could articulate.

Joe chuckled, passing his thumb on his lower lip and looking you from underneath his lashes.

“Well, it’s so hard for me to hate you right now…” he walked closer again, while gradually unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves, “So hard to hate you when every day you walk in with your unbelievably short skirts and your impeccable scented hair…”

“That’s a weird thing to say…”

“Shut up” he cut you off, promptly grabbing your wrists again and locking them by your sides, “So hard to hate you when you look so gorgeous sitting beside me at the desk… So–”

You didn’t give time to finish the sentence, your lips crashed against his, hands running to the top buttons of his shirt. While your fingers expertly unbuttoned his shirt, you felt his hands grazing up your thighs and lifting up your skirt to your hips. You helped him out of his shirt, throwing it as far away as you could.

“Cindy will be pissed we ruined that one…”

“Shut up”.

You cut him off by kissing him passionately and violently again, biting his lower lip while sliding your hands down his shoulders, to his sides, till the hem of his trousers and starting fidgeting with his belt.

You felt his hands climbing up to unbutton your shirt as well and then tossing it on the floor right away, the skirt following right after. His hands flew to his belt, helping you untuck it and undo his pants; you pulled them down to his ankles and he quickly got rid of them.

For an instant, you stared into each other’s eyes, but there were no more questions in your head. There was nothing your rational side could say to stop you now.

Joe pinned you against the wall, his whole body pressing into yours and his erection already hard on your thigh.

You bucked your hips against his and he groaned into the kiss.

“You will have to keep it quiet, Mazzello. They could hear us…” you whispered to his ear while sliding a hand down his stomach and into the elastic band of his boxers.

He whined and chuckled at the same time, suddenly pulling away from the kiss.

“Let them hear us…” he leered while unlocking your bra and tossing it aside.

“Fucking gorgeous…” he hissed and hooked a finger at the edge of your undies.

He pulled them down and they instantly dropped at your legs, while you did the same with his boxers. He grabbed your wrists again and threw your hands around his neck, while his glided down your hips and stopped underneath your bum, squeezing it gently.

Without a warning he lifted you up and sunk into you, making you exhale harshly and moan out loud. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he partially slid out and thrusted back in: you both moaned at the sensation of that particular angle as he started thrusting at a low pace.

His hands were sustaining you against the wall, whereas yours were roaming on his back, leaving nail marks then and there only to stop to cup his face.

Your bodies were moving, but your eyes were still, locked into each other. You inched closer to place your lips on his, the kiss tender and gentle, in contrast with the heat and speed up pace of the moment.

You felt sweat drops streaming down your face and your whole body on fire. You could only think of how good it felt. How that man who you’d barely tolerated for the past six months seemed to know you in and out like nobody ever had. He knew exactly what you liked and seemed to be always hitting the right spots.

“Joe…” you moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching and noticing his pace speeding up.

“I know–” he breathlessly uttered “I’m close too”

And as if you were trying to, you both came undone, recovering from your climax.

As you tried to steady your breath, your grip on his shoulders tightened and you found yourself basically hugged to him. The craziest thing was how nice it felt to have his body against yours and right into your arms. Joe’s head was resting on your shoulder while he heavily breathed in and out.

When you both felt like coming back to reality and abandoning your warm embrace, Joe let you down to your feet and you both remained silent as you got dressed again, avoiding looking at each other.

Once you were both fully dressed, you dared to turn in his direction.

He was looking at you too, a sweet smile on his face and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Why are you smiling?” you asked while fixing the collar of his new shirt.

He watched every move you made, never stopping smiling.

“I’m still high on what we did…” he whispered “And now I cannot stop thinking about you”

You chuckled, sincerely maybe for the first time in front of him and you caught his eyes glimmering.

“I’m right in front of you…”

He slowly nodded “I know… But I just can’t get enough”

“That is such a line…” you snorted, making him cackle along.

“It is but it worked, didn’t it?” he winked at you, making you shook your head and giggle.

If anyone had said to you that you’d be falling for one of Mazzello’s lines when you’d gotten up that morning, you probably would have punched them in the face. But now, there you were… giggling at his stupid lame lines that didn’t sound so lame anymore, and looking at that guy who you fought to keep your distance from, not knowing you’d actually always tried to keep him close.

Only now, while he was gently kissing your lips goodbye behind the door of the dressing room, you understood that Scott had been right all along.

When he pulled away from your lips and you felt your heart sink to your stomach, just cause you wanted him to keep on kissing you, you suddenly felt like a different person from the one who had entered the door that morning.

You smiled one more time to each other before calling security to get you out of there. When you heard their voices from the other side, you saw Joe getting closer to your ear with a cheeky smirk.

“Showtime” he whispered and when the door opened, his smile disappeared as he walked fast towards the studio.

You rolled your eyes as well and bolted out of the door, mumbling a ‘Thank God I couldn’t take it anymore’ and heading for the opposite direction Joe had taken.

You were trying your hardest not to burst out laughing at the hilarity of the situation: acting like nothing had changed in your enemies-relationship while in reality, everything had.

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