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clownd1ck · 3 months

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trouble, j. miller | chapter one

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.

chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it

also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL

word count: 2518

(series masterlist)

you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.

you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.

you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.

can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-

“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.

“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.

the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.

“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?

you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”

“excuse me?”

“the books aren’t in the right order.”

there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?

“did you ask for them in a certain order?”

the girl gives you a look. “no?”

“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.

the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.

“you’re fired.” she states.

“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.

on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.

you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.

he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.

“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.

your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.

a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”

“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.

“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.

“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.

“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”

“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.

“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?

“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”

“what club?”

“apocalypse.”

you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”

joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”

you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.

joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.

“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”

nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.

____

“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.

“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.

“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.

“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.

“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”

you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”

you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”

you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”

joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.

“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.

“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”

“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”

brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”

“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”

“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.

he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”

the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.

“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”

you nod your head at him.

“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”

joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.

“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.

the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”

“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”

as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.

“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.

you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”

lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”

you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”

“i don’t have to pay you for them?”

adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.

you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.

this was your life now.

____

a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmel @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #mob!joel #mob boss!joel

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mikanotes · 1 year

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— COLD-BLOODED

seo yul x gn!reader | 2.1k words

genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort

warnings: death, blood, injuries, overthinking, canon-divergence (this takes place in ep1, first battle w naksu)

synopsis: Under a dark sky that means no good, Seo Yul discovers the feeling of loss— Or the fear of it, rather.

author’s note: finished watching pt1 i hate aos all my homies hate aos /j but Seriously can yul just be happy. (i say as i proceed to write angst for him)

Flames were tossed into lanterns around Songrim, slowly lighting up the place as the sun set into the horizon.

Yul flipped a page in his book silently, scanning the words with careful concentration. Truth be told, the focus he had on the words he was reading was entirely forced as well as entirely an attempt at easing his worries.

It had been hours since the group of mages planning to fight Naksu had set off. You being part of them. He had full confidence in your abilities, being one of the strongest mages alongside your leader there— But it didn’t make the slow passage of time since your departure any better.

The boy heaved a quiet sigh and closed his book, setting it down on a table before getting up. When he stepped outside of the study room, he realized just how dark the sky had gotten. His brows furrowed at the sight.

Something was deeply wrong.

The clouds swirled in ways they shouldn’t, gray and threatening as they loomed over Daeho. Sure, it was getting late in the evening— But no time or weather could possibly be this dark without any sort of reason behind it. Maybe it was more related to his gut-feeling than logic, unusually so, but Yul was certain something was up.

He huffed and looked down, thinking. It wouldn’t be the right move to head over to where the rest had gone. It wouldn’t be wise to act rashly based on instinct, either.

Just as if the skies had heard him, a solution presented itself before him.

The group of mages sent to fight Naksu were back.

It was obvious from the number of people being sent to Sejukwon and the amount that waved off anyone trying to get them medical aid in favor of trying to run after Naksu.

He stopped one of them. The latter startled before looking up and smiling politely, bowing his head. “Seo Yul!”

“Where is [name]?” he wasted no time in asking. The boy scratched the back of his neck, seemingly a bit clueless as he looked around. He brought his gaze back to him after a bit.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see them with Master Park when we came back. Some people stayed back at the lake, if I recall.”

“What?” Yul muttered, brows furrowing. His gaze wandered anxiously, confused, before slowly looking back up, “Why?”

A boy in Jeongjingak’s uniform rushed over, grabbing the other’s shoulder to tell him something, before freezing at the sight of Yul. He seemingly hadn’t seen him there. The boy straightened up a little, eyes wide, before he redirected his gaze elsewhere.

“Oh, Jeongje, do you know where [name] is? Yul’s wondering, but I haven’t seen them.” the other speaks casually, clearly oblivious to the drastic change in attitude in his friend. Something’s wrong. He didn’t want to see me. No one at Songrim was stranger to yours and Yul’s relationship— No one talked about it in front of either of you, but everyone knew. So if something happened to one, people feared mentioning it to the other.

Which is why Yul felt so uncomfortable with how distant this boy was being the moment he saw him.

He desperately tried to catch the boy’s gaze. The latter accidentally looked up for a glance, but once Yul caught it, he didn’t let it go. He gulped and stammered over his words. “[name].” he hesitated, “The lake… They’re… Me and some other guys were headed to Sejukwon to get them help.”

Yul’s eyes widened at that and his lips parted to speak, before he bit on the inside of his lower one in frustration. So he was right. He wish he hadn’t been. He stepped back, eyes hazy and moving aimlessly. His hands moved to check for his swords at his sides before he nodded to himself. “Get mages from Sejukwon to follow me to the lake.” he spoke with a slight shake in his voice.

“Yul—”

When the two boys didn’t move, he looked up, eyes uncharacteristically and frighteningly cold. “Right now.”

The boy had reached the area mentioned before he’d even noticed. His mind was blank and all he could picture was the possible death of the person closest to him. He stopped once he reached the edge of the frozen lake, and took a breath. He stepped on it and checked how slippery it was. Once certain it was fine, he ran as fast as he possibly could.

On a lake covered in ice, clear under the night sky, red was the most obvious thing in the world. He spotted it from meters away, causing an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Blood.

Yul never felt so much fear before. Never has he felt the cold gust of wind that seemingly went through his chest, touching his heart itself and momentarily depriving him of all senses, smothering all of them with pure anxiety. The feeling of the sky falling above him. The world pressing around his limbs. Suffocating him. Forcing his mind into a frozen state of numbness.

He forcedly shook it off.

“[name].” he hurried, dropping to his knees the moment he reached you. You looked near-frozen and he wondered why no one had thought it better to bring you away from the ice to wait. Your eyes were closed, and the main source of blood seemed to be at the back of your head. He figured there must’ve been an injury towards your neck as well and they didn’t wanna risk movement until the right tools arrived.

There was no way you were gone. Despite this thought, Yul knew there wasn’t much to back it up. In the middle of nowhere, freezing on top of a lake of ice, with blood pouring out from a wound on your head. The possibilities of your survival seemed to lean more towards a negative result. He refused it entirely.

He pressed two trembling fingers on the side of your neck and checked for your pulse.

Behind him, a group of mages waited anxiously, not daring come any closer. The silence was suffocating for a few seconds, before Yul looked over his shoulder, gaze clouded and worried. “Bring them to Sejukwon as fast as you can.”

Two people hurried over and carefully lifted you onto a stretcher and Yul’s gaze sharpened at the sight of blood instantly staining the fabric. You were carried away as several people rushed to get you to Sejukwon, all whilst trying to keep a proper balance on the ice. Yul only looked away once they stepped foot on land and their risks of falling lowered.

He brought his gaze back to the ground, fingers dipping onto the pool of blood that seeped through the cracks in the pristine white ice. He allowed a deep sigh to leave his lips as he tried to reassure himself. It was no use.

The warmth of the fire burning next to him inside Sejukwon seemed to do nothing to calm the chill in his veins. He was entirely still, sitting on a bench outside the room you were being treated in, save for the violent trembling of his hand on his knee. He stared at the wall like his soul had left him entirely. He himself wasn’t sure where he was, really, his thoughts void of anything that made sense. Just flashing images of blood and possible death.

Around an hour passed before a familiar voice called out to him, telling him to come in. His limbs felt heavy when he stood up. He didn’t know if Master Heo calling him instead of stepping out to give him a look of pity his mind had imagined in the past hour was a good thing or not. Maybe he would step in and he would do exactly that. Maybe he would step in and Yul would feel like crumbling to the ground instantly.

He entered the room and closed the doors behind him, eyes focused on the bed where you laid. Master Heo glanced over at him and Yul gave him a look of what he figured seemed like desperation.

Master Heo nodded reassuringly and the boy visibly relaxed, back hitting the door behind him softly. Thank Heavens.

“Yul-ah, you know…” the man started, voice uncharacteristically serious, “If you hadn’t brought people from Sejukwon with you when you went to check where [name] was, they might not have made it.”

He swallowed thickly and looked down, nodding a little.

“What— You fool, what have you done to your hand?”

Yul looked up, surprised, before glancing at his hand. “Oh, this is just [name]’s blood.” he muttered, blinking at the dripping crimson on his numb hand, “I’ll just wash it off.”

“Are you so worried over them that you’re blind to the fact that your hand is freezing? Seo Yul, you— Argh.” the man cut himself off with an exasperated huff.

In a few minutes, he’d rinsed and dried his hand, as well as forced him to hold it close to the fire of a torch, before bandaging it. “You fool probably let your hand in the ice too long and then failed to notice it was freezing. How that happened is beyond me, but now it’s fixed, at the very least.” he sighed.

Yul bowed in gratitude, frankly still a bit hazy, and only now realizing he was regaining feeling in his bandaged hand. He closed his fingers and moved them again, before taking a deep breath. It felt as if his senses altogether were coming back to him. He didn’t realize the fear of losing someone could hit him to the point of being this oblivious to everything that wasn’t them.

Master Heo pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded to himself, “Then, I’ll leave you alone. Park Jin told me to come to the secret room… Something about Naksu. You should come over when you can. [name] will wake up soon. Try not to worry.” the man said warmly.

He walked towards the door and stopped at Yul’s side before opening it, setting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “There’s wine in that cabinet if you really need it.”

Yul didn’t need to look at him to see the teasing smile he wore as he spoke. A familiar attempt at lightening up the atmosphere, before he left and closed the door behind him.

Once silence settled in the room, Yul slowly walked over to you. He stood at your side, looking down at your face. Your features seemed less sick— The warmth of the fire as well as the treatment you’d received bringing back some life on your face. He softly touched your cheek with the back of his hand and felt a wave of worry leave his system. It was as if now that he could feel you were okay, his mind finally, properly registered it.

He thanked the stool behind him for catching him when the exhaustion got to him enough to make him fall back. He heaved a deep sigh and leaned his forehead on the bed, hands finding yours. He fiddled with your fingers as his consciousness slowly left him, dozing off.

His dreams were empty.

When he awoke, the lights outside Sejukwon were still lit, and the sun barely awake. He blinked tiredly and pushed himself to get back up, when the sound of someone mumbling held him back. He looked to the side, “[name]. You’re awake.” he spoke softly, voice laced with fondness.

“And you should go back to sleep.” you replied, and he chuckled. You looked just as tired as he probably did, eyes barely staying open. You were smiling a bit though. Yul tightened his hold on your hand and sat up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. You moved your gaze up to the ceiling in thought, before slowly moving each of your limbs.

“I think I’m alright. My head hurts a bit, though.”

Yul smiled and got up, a hand moving to your forehead to move strands of your hair away. His thumb caressed your skin softly before he leaned down, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I have things to do now that I know you’re okay.” he said quietly.

“Are you sure you weren’t just using me as an excuse to sleep?” you joked, and broke into laughter when Yul shot you a half-hearted warning look. “Naksu was running away, it’s probably about that, right? Go do your job, Mr. Seo.”

He smiled and looked away, hand still at the top of your head. “Okay. Take care.” he said softly, sounding nothing like someone who was leaving, and you smiled, sighing.

“Let go of me.” you raised your eyebrows, nodding your chin towards his arm, “You have to if you want to leave.”

He hesitated, gaze lowering.

After hours of worrying, he could allow himself this.

“… Maybe I’ll just stay, then.”

#seo yul x reader #alchemy of souls x reader #yul x reader #x reader

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stagenameouroborus · 1 year

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"It's been a year." Mark states, placing his glass of wine down on the stone in front of him. "A little over a year, actually. And I've been doing... okay, I think. No one telling me what to do, no dying every other week... it's nice, I think. Peaceful."

Looking down, he starts to pick at the skin around his nails, muttering an 'ow' as he pulls a hangnail too far and makes himself bleed. Red, perhaps a little darker than it should be, and not gloopy or thick. A little bit of blood, just as it should be.

"But I'm... I'm getting worse, again. I know we killed that demon bastard, and that it's sealed away, never to hurt anyone again, but..." Mark swallows, folding his hands in his lap. "... but I can feel it, hanging over my shadow and crawling up my back. It's trying to take me back, I know it is."

He glances up, smiling slightly as he exhales a light chuckle. "I know, I know. You think I'm strong enough and good enough to fight it off again, but..." His smile fades quickly. "I've made some bad mistakes. I've made people doubt themselves. I've made people afraid of me. All because I can't set my words right becaus of some... some looming force screwing me up every moment of the day!"

With a sigh, he lays back against the picnic blanket. "You'd know what to do though, wouldn't you? You'd say everything's okay, and exactly know to fix everything. Or you'd punch me on the arm and tell me to stick up for myself more." Another laugh, though it sounds hollow. Mark stares up at the sky, swallowing thickly. He breathes slowly through the tears starting to well up in his eyes, trying his best to dispel them before anyone sees.

"It's hard. It's really hard. I can't do this by myself. I know I still have friends, but... it's not the same without all of you. I wish I could just..." His voice breaks, and he throws a hand over his eyes. Not now. Please. "I... wish I could do a lot of things. Most of them good, some of them... not so much. But I can't do any of those things. I just– I just have to keep living, day by day, until—"

"Ah! I knew I'd find you here, old boy. Talking to that rock all by yourself?" The crunch of grass underfoot comes after the voice, as if it had just appeared from nowhere. Mark knows well that it very well did, sitting himself up while trying to subtly dry his eyes.

"No, no, I'm just... talking to myself, Wil." He draws his knees close to his chest, picking his glass back up to drain the rest of his wine.

"Well, I didn't mean to pry, but you know I'm very good at listening out for certain things." Wilford grins mischievously as he sits down next to Mark, easily sprawling across the rest of the picnic blanket. Though, his smile does wane a little. "You know, you could just come back inside and talk to us about it. I'm sure they wouldn't mind a little halt in the festivities in order to help you out!!"

Mark doesn't meet his gaze, reaching out to trace the engraving on the stone before them.

[ In memorial of those who went missing

Beloved brothers – Marcus I. Barnum & William J. Barnum

Beloved twins – Damien Whitacre & Celine Whitacre

Wherever your souls may be, we pray they rest peacefully ]

Mark's gaze settles on the ground, tired. "Sometimes it's easier to talk when no one will reply."

#uhhh just fucking around with words a bit #no big deal #award winning actor #curtains up!

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phr0gie · 3 years

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sleep softly, love; genshin impact

synopsis: how i think certain genshin impact characters would fall asleep next to you for the first time :)

note: hihi! so i finally feel like i’m caught up enough in genshin lore that i can start actually writing for it!! yay!! anyways, i’m sorry if my portrayal of them is a lil ooc, i’m still getting used to writing for them. still, i hope you guys enjoy! :D

pairings: xiao x reader, diluc x reader

tw: mentions of nightmares and death in xiao’s, mentions of alcohol and suggestive themes in diluc’s, ooc characters, mostly j fluff, not proof read (oops)

wc: 2k

masterlist

xiao:

the first few times you bring up sleeping next to him he’s probably going to turn you down

you see, xiao doesn’t really need to sleep, nor does he want to

he finds the idea of lying in a comatose state for eight hours in complete darkness to be “weird” and a “waste of time”

and his opinion on the matter doesn’t change for a while

that is, until you confess to him you’ve been having nightmares

these nightmares were like nothing you have ever had before

they shook you to your very core and, rather than the dream just leaving your mind after you woke up, they followed you around for days

once you confide in xiao about these terrors, he grows very concerned

in the past he’s known people who have been plagued with nightmares as a result of a dangerous curse that, more often than not, ended in death

the thought of you, the person he cares about most, succumbing to such a terrible fate frightens him more than anything — not that he’ll ever admit this to you.

and so, reluctantly, xiao agrees to spend the night with you

just this once, to protect you

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

“Xiao.”

Your gentle voice catches his attention immediately. As he looks into your eyes all he can see is admiration, his heart clenches at the feeling it gives him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “for being here for me like this.”

Xiao simply nods his head at you in response.

“Sleep,” he whispers, his tone commanding yet soft, “I will be here when you wake.”

He desperately wants to say more. To let you know that he would always be there for you, that no challenge would ever be too difficult if it was for you, that he would rip the moon from the night sky if it meant that you would rest a little easier. Yet, the kind smile you give him shows that he need not continue. You know he loves you, you have never once doubted it. You are aware of the burden he carries and how it affects him. You know that one day he will be able to share with you the confessions of love and vulnerability that are buried deep inside him. For now, this is enough. He is enough. And so, with a content smile you snuggle even further into your pillow.

“Goodnight, Xiao.” You whisper before finally closing your eyes.

Xiao stares at your resting form for a while. It is not until your breathing evens out and he is sure you are asleep do his eyes flicker from your face to your hand lying closely to him. All of the sudden, an overwhelming urge to hold you in some way overtakes the adeptus. Again, Xiao was not the biggest fan of physical affection, however, something about you looking as peaceful as you do in this moment evokes something from him. And so, he decides to finally accept your invitation. As his palm meets yours in a tight hold — not tight enough to wake you, of course — Xiao allows himself to indulge in the warmth and safety you provide him, just this once.

Neither of you have any nightmares that night.

diluc:

you and diluc are in a fairly new relationship.

having just started seeing each other a few months ago, it’s only natural to not have done anything too domestic quite yet.

not to mention, our ever stoic winery owner is a bit shy when it comes to his affections.

the two of your were every content with your soft, simple touches.

hand-holding, hugging, and subtle kissing kept you both very satisfied.

until you decide to get drunk at dawn winery.

your work has been k i l l i n g you recently

commissions are beginning to pile up, hilichurls have invaded the area you were supposed to scout next, and you couldn’t help but think that you were getting a bit rusty with your weapon.

all and all, you are very stressed out.

you desperately want a chance to relax.

originally, you had planned on just having a drink or two and ranting to your ever so reliable boyfriend.

however, a drink or two turned into three, then four...

before you knew it you couldn’t remember how many you had and it was rather late.

being the gentleman that he is, diluc forces offers you his bed for the night

seeing as you were in no condition to return home on your own, he has no choice.

it’s the responsible decision.

however, he’s still very flustered about the whole ordeal

Dulic thinks you are a handful. Especially right now.

He huffs as he attempts to open his bedroom door one-handed. The other appendage preoccupied with keeping you slumped against his side so that you don’t fall over.

“I knew you shouldn’t have had that last glass of dandelion wine.” He mumbles, gently scolding you.

You simply blink up at him, a bored expression on your flushed face.

“You sayin’ I can’t hold my alcohol?” you hiccup, “I’ll show you…”

You attempt to push off of him, but his hold on you tightens.

“No,” he grunts, “You won’t.”

Finally the door opens and Diluc lets out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he lifts you up — earning a small ‘woah’ and a giggle from you — and carries you over to his bed. He then sets you down and turns to his dresser to get you some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, white, long-sleeved undershirt and. Your lips curl into a suggestive smirk and you chuckle.

“Oooh,” you tease, “Master Diluc how bold of you, are you going to dress me?”

The pyro user looks absolutely mortified but you pay no mind to it, too busy laughing and hiccupping at your own joke. A prominent blush grows on Diluc’s face as he shuffles over to you.

“Of course not!” he stutters, dropping the clothing article gently on your head. He then grabs a pile of his own clothes and makes a beeline to the door. Just as he is about to exit he turns to you.

“Wait here,” he instructs, “and try not to fall asleep yet.”

And with that, the Diluc dashes down the hall, presumably leaving you to get changed. You do just that, tugging off your shirt and removing your bottoms. You huff as you lift your boyfriend's shirt up and over your head. As soon as the garment falls over your shoulders and past your knees, you’re hit with the rich scent of chestnuts and mahogany — the scent of Diluc. His undershirt is so baggy and so warm that you cannot help but feel at ease, Diluc always did have a way of making you feel safe — whether it was the hand he always places on the small of your back when he guides you around town or the look in his eyes when he spots you across the room, so sure that you’re the one he’ll always search for. The red-head returns a moment later clad in a dark, short-sleeved undershirt, similar to the one he gave you, and a pair of soft pants. In one hand, Diluc holds a fresh glass of water and in the other a pillow that seems to be smaller than the ones laid out in his bed. Diluc gently sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit next to him. As soon as the bed dips with your weight, Diluc is handing you a cup of water.

“Drink,” he instructs once again, “so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.”

You do as you're told, dutifully downing the refreshing liquid. The minute your lips leave the cup he takes it from you, setting it on his bedside table. Then, Diluc picks you up once more and positions you so you are laying properly on the bed. He pulls the covers out from under you and makes sure you’re tucked in well.

“There,” he says finally, pulling the comforter up to your chin, “are you comfortable?”

However, he does not receive an answer. You’re already half asleep, head slumped against the pillow, mouth hanging wide open. Diluc smiles in spite of himself. He should be mad at you, he knows he should. But, as you lay there with your hair a mess, wearing one of his shirts, in his bed, Diluc cannot help but fall even more hopelessly in love with you. Stroking your hair a few times, he finally leaves a light kiss on your forehead. Hesitantly, he gets up, being very careful not to jostle you. He’s about to head to his living room to sleep, but he can barely make it two steps away from the bed before a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He turns to see you, still snug in his bed, a pout adorning your features.

“Where’re you goin?” You grumble out sleepily.

Diluc looks at you curiously.

“I’m going to let you sleep,” he whispers, “You need to rest.”

He attempts to remove your hand but your grip only tightens. Suddenly you pull him down, your faces only inches apart. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft — so soft that Diluc doesn’t think he would have heard it if he weren’t so close to you, “stay.”

The blush from earlier creeps back up Diluc’s neck and rests upon the apples of his cheeks. Hearing you plead for him like this evokes a sense of warmth within the pyro user. He’s never felt so wanted before you. Ultimately, Diluc gives in and indulges you — how can he not? Crawling into bed next to you, he stiffens when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. Diluc stays up a little while after you doze off, admiring you.

Diluc thinks you are a handful. However, he thinks he can handle it if at the end of every day he gets to hold you like this.

please do not steal or repost my work, thank you!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc #frog.fiction

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 9

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 9] || "I like it."

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [when you’re close to me, i can’t breathe // we’re already six feet deep] fuck up the friendship x leah kate

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @dingzerenistall @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @monamone @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp-replies @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @red-kebab @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @bongsbeforebibles @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @annewrighthglc @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yoongiofmine @loveyoongles @instantspot @missmadwoman @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @vanillxangxl @renhold-nightspear @taeshuworld @lvrseok @supahumbreon @a-noona-mous

_______________________________

Monday, 20 September, 10:01am

“I sit through that class every morning, and I don’t think there’s a single thing I remember about it.” Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair as he exits the Charms classroom, free hand attached to Y/n’s hip. They hover in the doorway, waiting for Jin and Tae to join them, and then the four of them are headed down the corridor to their next class. Yoongi can feel his roommate’s eyes on him and Y/n, and when he glances over his shoulder, he finds that both Jin and Tae are looking with intrigue at the arm he’s got wrapped around Y/n.

“What?” They look up, Y/n glancing back to see what’s happening. Jin clears his throat, shaking his head, and Tae just smiles, a toothy grin that’s more than a little sheepish.

“It’s just… a bit weird, still -- seeing you two together. We’re getting used to it.” Jin nods before pointing between the two of them, eyes guarded.

“As long as I don’t have to accidentally walk in on you two getting freaky in the room, I don’t care what you do. But…” He trails off, glancing down at Yoongi’s arm again, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah. Getting used to it.”

“You look good, though! You guys are a good match.” Tae gestures with both hands, the paperback book in his hold flapping obnoxiously as he tries to make sure he and Jin aren’t being misunderstood. “It’s cute -- we all like it. You know, except Jungkook.” Yoongi snorts, shaking his head.

“I really couldn’t care less what he thinks about it.” A lie, of course -- otherwise Yoongi wouldn’t be doing this at all. He wants to make Jeon Jungkook pay, just as Y/n does, but their friends don’t need to know that.

They reach an intersection then, Tae and Jin branching off to the right. They glance back when Yoongi doesn’t follow, and he points simply down the corridor on their left.

“I’m gonna walk Y/n to her next class -- see you guys at lunch?” Y/n looks at him, surprised he’s not heading to his own class. She waits until their friends are waving goodbye before she’s saying anything.

“You’re gonna be late…” Yoongi shrugs, guiding her down the left-hand corridor toward her Transfiguration classroom, his arm tight around her waist.

“So, I’ll run.” Y/n rolls her eyes with a scoff, but lets him walk her to class, anyway. She pretends she can’t see everyone in the corridor looking at them, just as they had been all morning. After all, once news had broken that Min Yoongi was no longer available, people couldn’t help but be curious. But Yoongi hasn’t said a thing about it, so she won’t either -- even if it is a little nerve-wracking.

When they get to her class, the very last one at the end of the corridor, Y/n turns to him, eyes suspicious.

“You better not use this as an excuse to skip your own class and go back to bed. You still have enough time to make it there.” Yoongi grins, shaking his head.

“You know me too well.” With a smile, she steps in and presses her lips to his in a quick peck. She would have tried to stay longer, but she can still feel everyone looking at them, and she’d panicked just a little bit. That’s a lot of eyes on them at once, and she figures a chaste kiss is acceptable enough that she can run into the safety of her classroom afterward without seeming like she’s avoiding his affection.

But as she’s turning to leave, a soft ‘see you later’ leaving her, she feels a hand on her elbow, pulling her back. Yoongi’s giving her a knowing look, tugging her close to him with an amused smile. When she’s close enough, he’s mumbling to her, fully aware of what’s been bothering her.

“You can do better than that.” Nervously, she’s glancing over his shoulder, but he’s tutting quietly, drawing her back. “Don’t look at them -- look at me.” She looks at him for just a moment, trying to build the courage to kiss him properly. It comes to her, and she’s stepping right up to him, hand on the side of his neck when she leans in.

Yoongi’s grip on her waist tightens when her lips find his, and he’s pressing forward right away, making sure to keep her focus on him. His free hand comes up and his fingers are threading through her hair, holding her still while he angles his head, molding his lips to hers more comfortably.

She pulls away first, ears tinting red almost immediately because she can tell everyone had seen that -- that they’re already whispering about them. But Yoongi makes it deceptively difficult for her to get carried away by the attention, tilting his head to block her view of the corridor with a playful smile.

“Good girl.” He’d meant it innocently -- she knows he’d meant it innocently. He’d only been praising her for not letting the embarrassment get to her, for doing it right that time. But he doesn’t know how those words affect her -- or… rather, he didn’t.

Because he catches it. He’s close enough, and his eyes are on her. There’s no way he’d miss the way her eyes had widened, even though she’s quick to mask it, or the purse of her lips -- the catch of her breath, almost imperceptible.

And then he’s narrowing his eyes at her, gaze flitting around her face, trying to pinpoint what had just happened. He puts it together easily, the side of his mouth tilting up as he gives her a knowing look. He wants her to say it, so he’s certain -- so this is something that can be shared between them, not something she’s too embarrassed to tell him.

“What was that?” Y/n blinks, shaking her head as she takes a step back, putting distance between them. He only steps forward to close the gap again. “No… something definitely just happened to you.” She shakes her head again, pointing over her shoulder into her class.

“Nope. That was nothing--I mean. Nothing happened, there was nothing.” She backs away further, jumping when she bumps into the corner of the wall. Yoongi only tilts his head with a squint, a full smirk on his features now.

“You know I’m not gonna let this go, right?”

“Go to class, Yoongi!” And then she’s gone, all but running into her classroom in a panic. Yoongi snickers, shaking his head as he turns and heads down the corridor, pocketing that interesting bit of information for later.

Monday, 20 September, 4:15pm

Y/n’s in the library, eyes scanning the shelf in front of her as she searches for the book title Hoseok had sent her. It’s something that has a chapter on the Wiggentree, which is what they’d chosen their project topic as for Herbology.

I’m definitely in the right aisle… Maybe I’m just missing it?

She moves to return to her starting place in the otherwise empty aisle, convinced she’ll find it if she just looks again. But she doesn’t make it far, a hand coming down on the shelf and blocking her. She’d been too focused on scanning the books to even notice that he’d arrived. But she certainly notices him now.

“So -- you like ‘good girl’?” Turning as the words are whispered into her ear, Y/n all but stumbles backward into the bookshelf, eyes wide as she finds Yoongi peering back at her. He’s squinting at her, just as he had this morning, as he searches her face for a reaction. Blinking rapidly, she glances down the aisle, worried someone might find them like this.

“Yoongi, what -- you can’t just sneak up on me like that!” Her voice is hushed, because she’s aware this is a library and even more aware that it’s full to the brim, having seen almost every seat taken when she’d walked through the room. The chances of them not getting caught are slim to none.

But Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, only stepping in and further blocking her way out. She scoots back as much as possible, but there’s only so far she can go with her back pressed against a wall of books.

“No one forced you to tell me that you were here.” Y/n sighs, because she should have seen this coming. He’d been totally fine all day, holding her hand at lunch and walking her to class after, never saying a word about what had happened this morning. Even during their free period, they’d just taken a nap in his bed -- everything had been normal.

So when he’d texted her asking where she was, she hadn’t thought twice to tell him about the book she’s been looking for. She should have known he’d bring it up again -- he’d even said he would. But she hadn’t expected it to be here, in such a public place.

Maybe I should have. This is Yoongi.

When she doesn’t say anything, Yoongi leans in, setting his lips against the shell of her ear.

“What else do you like to be called, hm?” Flushing red, Y/n plants her hand on his chest, intending to push him away. But he’s already pulling back, just enough that their noses are brushing while he looks into her eyes. She hates that he’s smirking, because he knows she’s flustered.

“You know you should just tell me -- I’ll figure it out for myself eventually.” He’s fully aware she won’t say a word, already seeing that her jaw is clenching, mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m not telling you shit.” He raises an eyebrow, thoroughly amused by her disgruntled expression.

“No? That’s okay. I’ll just get it out of you later, pretty girl.” Y/n blinks rapidly when her heart jumps and grimaces, because he’s testing her right here in the middle of this library. And she knows when he smiles that she’s failed.

“Got you.” Y/n rolls her eyes, cheeks warm from how embarrassed she feels, and moves to push past him so she can leave -- she’ll just find the book later. But Yoongi’s in her way, a playful smile on his face. “You still haven’t told me if you like ‘good girl’.” She shoots him a wild look.

“You know the answer to that.” And then she’s looking away, because his eyes are lighting up and she’s not sure how she’s supposed to feel about that -- mostly, she’s not sure why it doesn’t bother her that he’s excited about this. “Can I go?” He smiles, humming in faux contemplation.

“Nope. I wanna hear it from your mouth.” She turns to him, exasperated, because he’s being obnoxious and he knows it. But he doesn’t let up, only pressing forward until she’s backed against the shelf again. “Come on… it’s just a couple words -- say them and I’ll let you go back to your project.”

When she only glares at him, he hums again, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Okay, then.” And then he’s leaning forward, slotting his lips against hers roughly, muffling the noise of surprise that leaves her. She pushes him back just enough that their lips part, eyeing him with shock.

“What are you doing? We’re alone--”

“Are we?” She blinks, knowing what he means -- that there are eyes everywhere, that what they’re doing is okay because they are in public, even if the aisle’s empty. Because this is exactly what it's like to date Min Yoongi, so it's okay. Everything they're doing and saying right now -- this is how it's supposed to look to anyone that comes across them.

He looks her over, checking that she’s alright -- that she’s not upset.

“… Can I go back to being the sexy boyfriend that corners you in the library to convince you with my mouth to tell me what I want to hear? Or do you want to stop? Because I’ll stop.” Y/n snorts, shaking her head. He’s careful as always, but if she’s honest -- she doesn’t really mind this all that much. She’d agreed to it, after all. So instead of telling him that this is fine -- that they’re fine -- she continues the previous conversation.

“You’re not gonna convince me to say it, no matter what you do.” He looks at her sideways, smirking, and she immediately regrets having worded it like that because she can already see Yoongi’s competitive side making an appearance.

“Is that a challenge?” When she only rolls her eyes, he leans in, stopping just shy of her mouth and waiting, just in case she doesn’t want to do this. She doesn’t move, gaze only flicking down quickly to his lips and back again. He tries his best to mask the smile that threatens to form on his face, but even as he closes the gap, it’s there.

He kisses her once, then leans back to talk to her.

“Say it.” She smiles, eyes full of mischief.

“Say what?” He kisses her again.

“Say it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Again.

“I could do this all day, Y/n.”

“No, you can’t. You hate missing dinner -- you like the dessert too much.” He sighs impatiently, setting his hands on her hips and pulling her in. The kiss he lays on her lips is different than the last few, this one made to leave her breathless. She hates that it does.

Without pulling away, he gauges her reaction, noticing immediately that she’s grabbing at the front of his uniform, almost as if to ground herself after something so unexpected. He doesn’t give her time to recover, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth. When she inhales sharply, he pushes his tongue past her lips, licking into her mouth -- she whines, the sound immediately cutting off because she’s realizing that they’re still in the library.

Yoongi only smirks, finding it cute that she’s so aware of her surroundings. But he wants her completely out of it, thinking either about him or nothing at all. So he brings one hand up to the back of her head, where he’s taking a fistful of her hair and tugging harshly, forcing her mouth away from his as her head gets angled to the side. That whine comes again, but she’s definitely already more dazed than before, because she doesn’t stop it from happening. Her head is spinning too fast, the feeling turning to pure white noise when Yoongi attaches his mouth to a spot under her ear, his lips searing hot against her skin.

“Yoongi…” She breathes out his name, clinging to him like she’s going to fall over if she doesn’t. Yoongi tells himself that that’s why he presses himself flush to her, sliding his free hand down to her ass and pushing her hips forward into his -- because he wants to help steady her. It has nothing to do with hearing her call for him like that. Nothing at all to do with the reaction it draws out of her when he does, that breathy moan he’d secretly been looking for. Pulling his lips from her neck, he drags them up to her ear, not even noticing how hard he’s breathing.

“Now do you wanna tell me?” She doesn’t respond, whining incoherently. Yoongi sees out of the corner his eye that someone’s turning into the aisle. When they stop short and immediately turn to leave, he’s smiling, because they’d just gotten caught and Y/n has no idea. She’s too busy trying to catch her breath -- trying to come to her senses. Yoongi’s having none of it.

Using the hold he has on her hair, he brings her toward him, smushing his lips to hers -- it’s not as rough as she’d been expecting, but it takes her breath away all the same. Just like the first one. She whimpers against his lips, and it warms him -- the idea that even this is enough to make her feel good. He wonders if she actually prefers when he’s soft with her -- he’ll have to explore that more later.

Pulling his lips away from her, he watches her. The way she doesn’t open her eyes right away or even notice that he’s waiting for her. She just leans her head back against the hand in her hair, and Yoongi steadies her, smiling at how dazed she is. He shakes that hand gently, jostling her, and that’s when she’s opening her eyes, realizing he hasn’t done anything in a few seconds. They make eye contact, Y/n trying to blink her way out of the fog in her head.

“Don’t you want this to end already? Wouldn’t you rather go back to finding your book before we have to go to dinner?” She nods automatically, even though there’s a small part of her that hesitates first -- it must be because she’s too out of it to process his questions right away. When she doesn’t meet Yoongi’s eyes for a few seconds, he’s pulling at her hair again, drawing her attention. And when her gaze finally lifts to his--

“Then be a good girl and tell me you like it.” Yoongi watches as she reacts -- as she breaks. As her lips part in a small gasp, her eyelids fluttering as she looks at him. As the hold she has on the front of his shirt tightens, her knuckles almost white. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this side of her -- the first time he’s ever seen her give in like this. He almost feels bad for how proud he is that she’s like this because of him.

But then she’s saying it -- what he’s wanted to hear from her all day. She doesn’t say all of it, but she doesn’t need to. Just those three words are enough to make him smile, because submission looks shockingly good on a stubborn lion like her. His Y/n.

“I like it.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts texts #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi texts

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

Note

YOU WRITE FOR THE WALTIN FILES??? YESS 😭😭💕 this request will be platonic bc it's a robot. May I please request a reader loving Billy as a kid and him being their (nonbinary btw) favorite growing up so they go back to the k-9 facility to work and finds him and puts their casset tape in and listens but when bon tries to attack Billy protects reader and in the end reader stays behind Billy to stay safe

I'm sorry for the long request!! Have a nice day and stay healthy!!

BRO I love Billy so much (and from a quiz I took he's one of my kins now hdhghd)

.........

After making sure you got everything you needed for the job, you took a deep breath and headed inside the K-9 facility.

You'd feel less nervous if it wasn't buried in the heart of some spooky forest. But you took comfort in knowing it was still daytime...or else you would've stayed home.

You were tasked with reprogramming the animatronics for Felix's "Relocate Project". The last three employees sent here didn't have much luck, so he assigned you specifically, knowing your proficiency in repairing machines.

It seemed pointless if three people couldn't even fix them. But your boss seemed desperate to revive the project by any means necessary. Plus you'll get paid extra if you were successful in reprogramming at least one animatronic. So you took the offer.

Inside the facility, you recorded yourself looking around for the animatronics, even reminiscing the time you visited Bon's Burgers when it was first opened.

But when you found the gang, they were in even worse shape than before. All four of them. You tested their joint movements, though it seemed as if...they were unwilling to perform for you.

Not to mention there was a certain rotting smell to them that made you wish you brought a gas mask.

Oh well, you'll live.

Besides, you were looking for a certain animatronic:

Billy. He was always your favorite, even though he didn't make too many debuts as a Showstopper. Most kids were afraid of him because he was a black-eyed clown who couldn't express many emotions, but you loved him and visited him as often as you could. He relied on tapes to speak and sing, though you doubted everything he said was just prerecorded nonsense.

He genuinely seemed like a best friend to you.

"Billy..Billy, hm..I wonder where he is?" You muttered to the camera as you continued your search. And with luck, you found a backroom that led to other rooms.

And in one of those rooms lied the clown who made your childhood memorable.

Although the smell coming from him was similarly pungent, you ignored it, just happy that he was still here. You found some old tapes on the desk, seeing one in faded marker that had your name written on it.

A special birthday message for you.

When you tried playing it with the tape recorder, you frowned slightly when all you heard was static. Even Billy himself seemed to have trouble singing, so you stopped the tape and removed it.

But as your foot kicked something on the floor, you looked down to see that it was another tape. Simply labelled Discard.

"What's wrong with this?" You hummed, picking it up and deciding to play it.

At first, Billy began singing his trademark birthday song. But then he suddenly began listening off names, with beeps in between. Some of them sounded eerily familiar..

"J-Jack..Susan..Charles..Rosemary..Sophie.."

He kept repeating the same names over and over, and it was starting to creep you out. So in haste you reached out to stop the recording-

Only for his bloody mechanical hand to grab your wrist. Your eyes widened in shock, and you winced from the pain of his grip. But curiously enough, he used his other hand to stop the tape himself.

Then you saw white pupils appear in his eye sockets, and he looked up at you, before pointing to something on the table.

You glanced over and saw another tape labelled Billy. It was probably the one that allowed him to talk freely, so you quickly swapped the tapes and shakily pressed the button.

"[Y/n]! M-My best buddy!" He giggled as he let you go, the corners of his lips stretching into a bigger smile.

"B-Billy..it's..it's good to see you again." You breathed, confused but overjoyed that he recognized you. "How's-?"

"Why did you come back?"

"....huh?"

"You shouldn't have played that tape." His smile was quick to falter as shook his head, sockets widening. "He's mad now.."

"What? Who's mad-?"

A warped robotic laugh sent chills down your spine, as you heard the door behind you slam shut. With terror seizing your nerves, you could only shakily shine your flashlight, which landed on a fuzzy white chest with a red bowtie-

Before you shined it upwards, revealing a grinning Bon.

Billy was just as horrified, but he remembered this exact scenario.

No...he couldn't let this happen again. Especially not to you!

He sprang up and pulled you behind him, shielding you from the twisted rabbit. "No more, Bon! Please...d-don't hurt them." He pleaded as black tears leaked from his eyes. "They're my only friend.."

Bon stood rigidly, looking surprised that his fellow Showstopper was protecting you.

Then again he wasn't particularly kind to him when someone else did the same thing you did--discovering something you shouldn't have.

You had to be punished, too. He couldn't afford that.

For a moment, he seemed ready to pounce when he heard a noise coming from the outside. He suddenly turned around and threw the door open, leaving at an unusually fast pace for a decrepit animatronic.

But he was gone, thank god.

You shakily sighed with relief, still perplexed by what you had just witnessed. "Th-Thanks, Billy. But..why would Bon wanna hurt me?"

"He likes keeping what happened here a secret." Billy explained as he shut the door, sniffling. "A-All these years..he's tried making us "beautiful", but he only causes us pain."

"That doesn't sound like him at all.." You muttered.

Even back then, you never really trusted Bon. He always gave you the creeps for some reason..especially with how stiff his movements were compared to the others. They seemed so forced, like some caged animal was trying to break out of him.

You wonder if he recognized you, too.

"Ever since the beginning he's been..off. I didn't like it. H-He scares us now.." Fresh black tears dripped down Billy's face as he turned back to you.

"Is..that why he wanted to hurt me? Because of that discarded tape?" You questioned, remembering that two of the names listed were Bon's Burgers employees.

'But I don't know any "Jack", "Rosemary", or "Sophie"..'

The clown could only tremble. "You need to leave before h-he hurts you again..please..go before he comes back!"

"And leave you here to suffocate in this garbage facility? I don't think so." You shook your head. "I'm gonna stay and try to get you guys outta here. I..I don't know how or when but..I can't leave you. Not again."

Billy blinked with surprise. He didn't expect you to stay, especially after that terrifying encounter with Bon. But he wasn't going to let you have the same fate as the technician imprisoned within him.

So he'll try to protect you. Even if the others won't.

#clanask #the walten files x reader #walten files x reader #twf x reader #twf billy x reader #billy the clown x reader

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cherienymphe · 4 years

Text

Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence,

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy

#joker x reader #dark fic #dc fanfic #dc #dark joker #dark!joker #suicide squad

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aureumjeon · 4 years

Text

hush (m) jjk

pairing; jungkook x reader

genre; established relationship, college au.

warning; public indecency, exhibitionism, exhibition kink, tit sucking, jungkook loves your tits, fingering, degradation, pwp really.

word count; 2598

summary;

➜ when you invited your boyfriend to a study date at the library on a Friday night, studying was your only intention. Of course, Jungkook always had a knack of ruining your plans.

a/n; now that this is out of the wayy, i will now be working on my money matters prequel! i hope you look forward to that one!

"For the last time, kook," you discreetly pushed off his arm around your torso, hand comfortably purchased on your clothed breast. "I called you here to study with me, not mess around."

He only let out a small airy grunt in reply, not caring about a single word you just said. The wooden legs of the chair he was situated on dragged across the gray carpeted floor as he moved closer to you, once again sliding his arm around your body and fixating his hand back to its previous position.

"J-jungkook..." You whined as you felt his slender fingers gently knead at your mound, even with a bra on, he could sense how hard your nipple has become at his lingering touch. The words that tumbled out your mouth said no but your body language says otherwise. The blunt edges of your teeth painfully dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip while you tried your best to suppress the needy moans wanting to escape.

"Tell me to stop." A hint of challenge lacing his tone with the slight curve of his lips. He knew how much he affected you; how his honey slicked voice crawled under your skin and shot straight to your core.

Exhibitionism wasn't on top of your list but it was on his.

Although no matter how much he wanted to do bad things to you under the prying and watchful eyes of those around you, your consent has always been and always will be his priority.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop." jungkook was growing impatient by the second, you can tell by how hard he was squeezing at your breast.

"D-dont--" you faintly mouthed, burying your face in the curve of his neck. His musky scent overpowering your senses and doubling the wetness forming between your legs. "s-stop..."

"Fuck" he cursed under his breath, you were too fucking good for him. He temporarily released his grip on you and plotted his next move.

At this point, the only thing you could do is hope your mouth stays close like your eyes.

You felt the hem of your skirt hitch up as his right hand roamed the expanse of your quivering thighs. Just as you were about to close it shut, he jammed his hand in between them.

"I don't think so, baby." It came out as a whisper and got you squirming in your seat. He scanned the premises of the facility, the number of people inside could be counted with the fingers on his hand. It was pretty empty considering that it was a Friday night, most college students would rather hang out at a party than study in library.

In the eyes of an outsider, the two of you only looked like a normal couple. A loving boyfriend letting his exhausted girlfriend take a nap on his shoulder. How sweet.

What they don't know won't kill them and if they find out, well, it'll only rile him up more.

At the back of your mind, you thank god that you chose a spot facing the wall. If you didn't, the person sitting on the table parallel to yours would have a front row seat to your dripping pussy.

"You like that?" Jungkook's hand found its way to your clothed core, trailing the pad of his fore and middle finger over the newly moistened patch. "God, you're always so fucking wet for me, y/n."

The heat and wetness of your aroused cunt have gotten to him, a noticeable tent forming at the crotch area of his sweatpants. He quickly grasped your hand and pressed it against his growing erection.

"Shit..."

You shut your eyes even tighter and braced yourself for what was about to come next when he began pushing your underwear to the side.

A breathless whimper was all you can utter at the sensation of sudden intrusion, his middle finger shoved inside your hole down to the last knuckle.

"Always so tight, you dirty slut. Clenching around my finger like vice grips."All his words came out as a mumble, barely audible, still it sent shockwaves of electricity throughout your entire body. Nobody does it like him, only jungkook has got this much control and power over you.

"Be good a girl for me and unbutton your shirt, I want to suck on those perky nipples of yours."

Somehow your breath gets caught up in your throat, and you're suddenly gasping for air. How can his presence be so suffocating and enticing at the same time like you're drowning in a deadly sea with a lifeboat next to you but you decided you’d rather die and be enveloped by the waters.

You do as you're told, unbuttoning your blouse half way through just enough for your boobs to poke out.

"Damn," Jungkook kissed your forehead, giving you ample time to hold your head steady after leaning on him for a while.

He then laid his head cradled by his arm on the surface of the table, his face conveniently positioned in front of your chest. With his same hand, he hooked a finger under the front band of your bra and tugged it downwards. Your plump breast bounced deliciously against the force and you can see the way his pupil blew up with lust and fervor.

"Will never get tired of these." Jungkook confessed, dipping his head closer and taking in one pert nipple in his mouth. Slowly and surely, he was taking time sucking at your sensitive nub. His idle hand took note of the nipple he physically couldn't reach with his mouth and did its purpose. Pinching and tweaking.

The wet feeling of his mouth, tongue and fingers on your burning skin had you bucking your hips into his stagnant finger. Whining and yearning for any sort of friction.

"Oh," he smiled while still latched onto your nipple, "I'm sorry, I forgot." He sunk his teeth into your hardened bud; the ardent sting has got you curling your toes inside your shoes and hands gripping at the edge of your seat.

"They don't call you golden tits for nothing," he proudly boasts, not his fault that his girl was one of the hottest chicks in the entire university.

He slid another finger in you, pumping it at a leisurely pace while his hot mouth was still connected to your breast. Lapping and nipping at the bud and the skin around it, eliciting goosebumps to emerge on every square inch of your body.

"J-jungkook.."

"Yes?" He cooed, slightly tilting his head up and peppered your collarbone with kisses. Occasionally stopping and sucking at a certain spot until a purple bruise blooms.

You deduced Jungkook was certainly taking his time. His digits stroked your aching walls at an excruciatingly timid pace, thumb not even meeting your clit once. At this point getting caught was the least of your worries, the only goal you wanted to achieve was to come.

"Please, please, please..." You lowered your head and rested your burning forehead against his cheek while he continued marking your unmarred skin. "I w-want to cum,”

You almost choked on your own spit as you fought the sob crawl from your throat when he shoved his digits deeper into you, the tip of his finger caressing the rough spot inside your sex. Your back arched on the backrest of your chair and you held your head from falling back too far.

“Hmm?” his hooded gaze stared at your face inches away from his, a recognizable grimace inscribed on it. Your brows furrowed, almost meeting at the center of your face; eyes shuttered, scantily masking the ache you were feeling; cheeks flushed hot, dusted with a carmine tinge. Your lips trembled, even when set in a thin line. Jungkook knows this ‘face’ of yours all too well, he’s well aware of what he needs to do.

“Please…” this was too much, you could feel every muscle in your body tense up and knot to the point where it started to hurt. Your hands shook uncontrollably when you clutched onto Jungkook’s shoulder, nails digging into his jacket, pleading, begging.

“Jungkook…” Tears began gathering at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill if you were still denied of your craved orgasm.

“Y/n,” You opened your eyes only to see Jungkook staring intently at the distraught mess you’ve become. “Hush.” With a lecherous smirk etched on his pink lips and an amorous glint in his deep-set brown eyes.

His wrist snapped and his calloused fingers recklessly propelled into the deepest depth of your pussy. The clogs in the pit of your stomach finally began turning, and you felt your strained shoulders loosen up as he continued to assault your starving cunt with his straight jabs.

You steadied your breathing as best as you could and carefully observed those around you. Thankfully they were still busy minding their own business to notice yours. You leaned back in your seat and angled your hips so that your boyfriend’s fingers can sharpen its thrust into you. A relieved and blissful sigh escaped your lips as you revelled at the new and exhilarating emotion this was bringing you.

“Such a needy slut.” Jungkook chuckled, watching his digits get sucked in by your narrow cavern and every time he pulled out, it got even more coated with your slick juices. He suddenly pulled out completely, making you clench painfully around nothing and you wail a little too loud. Your hands came flying straight to cover your mouth.

Jungkook’s clacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, eyes piercing through yours “If we get caught, you won’t be able to cum, understand?” He inserted his two fingers drenched with your essence inside his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on it until it was bone dry, releasing it with a lewd pop. “Now, be a good slut and shut that dirty mouth of yours or else.” You know Jungkook well enough to know what me means with ‘or else.’ He’d have no trouble depriving you of your orgasm and walking out on you this instance if you commit even the slightest mistake.

You obediently nodded without hesitation.

“Good girl.” He gently stroked your tear stained cheeks with his thumb and placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now,” This time he advanced three fingers past your dribbling folds and the stretch is indescribable, divine even. The way his long digits mercilessly scissored inside you, going against the natural reflex of your walls to constrict them has got you soaring near your anticipated high.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the way your balmy velvet walls wrapped around him perfectly. “You’re even tighter than before, fuck.” He imagined his dick in place of his fingers being hugged and milked by your incredible pussy for all it's got. The mere thought of him pounding into you made him harder. Shit, he can do that later. Now, he needs to give you what you want, what he came here to do.

His lips found your neglected stiff nipple, latching onto it and sucking like a starved infant.

"J-jungkook.." You sighed, droplet of sweat forming at your temples. The library was fully air-conditioned, but you were sweating buckets like you've been sitting in a sauna for the last ten minutes. Damn this boy and what he does to you.

The force and accuracy of his fingers pushing into you and abusing your sweet spot while suckling on your bud has sent you spiraling into a delirious state. It's so tight, the coil in your stomach. "I'm so close…"

"Then come."

He coaxed, tripling the speed of his digits rubbing against your convulsing walls. You never ceased to amaze him, if you were already tight before, he doesn't understand how your pussy is still clamping down on his fingers. "Fuck… Your cunt is fucking amazing..."

It doesn't take long before your eyes start rolling to the back of your skull and images of white stars fill the back of your eyelids. Relief, sweet relief flooded your body the moment you came.

Before any of your juices got the chance to dribble down your thigh, Jungkook slides his finger across your swollen slit, scoops it up and shoves it back into you making you squeak in surprise.

"You're not gonna let any of that go waste until I eat it out of you, understand?"

A sly wicked grin appeared on Jungkook's face and you knew exactly what that meant.

The jog from the library to Jungkook's apartment was the longest five minute in your life. Every part of your body, even the backs of your knees were coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Fuck all of this, you couldn't wait any longer. You slithered your body between him and the door and attached your hungry lips to his jugular. Your manicured fingernails scratching and digging into his back with much impatience.

"Fuck baby." Jungkook groaned as you nibbled and licked the expanses of tense his neck. Tasting the concoction of his sweat mixed with his favourite scent from Hugo boss. God, you loved how he tastes. How hot his skin becomes when it collides with yours, and how he makes you into the horny mess you are now. Fuck, you love everything about this man.

"So impatient." He fumbled with the keys for a few seconds before finding out it was unlocked. Hyung must have left if unlocked since he knew I was coming home, he thought. Paying no mind to it, their apartment building had great security anyways.

"Kookie," you moaned, desperately trying to peel off his restricting clothes from his body while he did the same to yours. "Want you now." You mumbled, gliding your hand over the taut muscle of his abdomen.

Jungkook captured you by the waist, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. Taking a handful of your plump ass in his hand and then giving it a harsh slap. He trod the ten step walk from their front door to the living room couch, gently setting you down on the soft furniture.

"Want you, too" He couldn't wait either. With hooded lids, he marvelled at your immaculate image sprawled on his sofa. Supple skin glowing under the fluorescent light, tits barely contained by your lace bra, and your hair acting as a halo around your radiant face. You looked fucked up as ever, and he lives for it.

As he was about to unbuckle his belt and finally stick his dick into you, he was interrupted by a cough.

"Um, excuse me?" Jungkook's platinum blond haired roommate started.

"Oh shit, Yoongi-hyung."

You bet yourself you were faster than flash, grabbing the decorative pillow next to you and concealing your exposed body.

"I-I thought you were..." anyone in the room can hear the sound of Jungkook gulping. "out with Namjoon-hyung?" He gave a crooked smile, side-stepping to the left just enough to cover you with his own naked self.

"Last minute cancel," the elder shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn't seen something he shouldn't have. "Don't worry about me. I'll mind my own business. You love birds can continue." He retreated back to his genius lab.

Jungkook looked at you, blush creeping up to the curve of his ears. "Sorry about that," lips curling into an innocent smile "where were we?"

Your fit of giggles we're unstoppable as you threw the pillow you were holding onto, aiming for his face. “Shut up, Kook.” You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy.

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angloie · 3 years

Text

Beach Trips and I'm Falling in Love 1/2

When Annabeth meets a strange boy on vacation, she doesn't expect for their relationship to grow much. He's... terribly sarcastic. Cocky. A not-so great match for her witty self. But after learning he visits the same beach every year she does, their strange friendship blooms into something more.

Their realtionship isn't the only thing that blooms over the yearsー that meaning a certain raven-haired boy.

genre ; childhood friends to lovers, fluff, strangers(?) to lovers, exchanging letters au, percabeth mortal au, 6.5k words.

warnings ; swearing, suggestive(?) themes.

Annabeth first falls in love with the beach at age seven during a vacation.

The airport was a little scary truth be told; new people and big security dogs. Though, the dogs are the things she likes most of the whole expirience. The plane there was much, much worseー she had never liked being so high up for so long. That's why Annabeth slept for most of it. (more like passed out.)

But now that she's woken up in a whole new setting, (that being her parent's cabin) her heart beats fastly with excitement. The unfamiliar aroma of saltwater and sand wafts into the bedroom, making her sniff deepy. The patched quilt that once layed on her is tossed to the wooden planked floors. Everything here is unfamiliar, whether it's the bedroom or the whole place itself.

Annabeth kicks her feet off the bed, rushing to the hallway. She practically bounces off the walls like a rubber ball. New, sights, new place, new people... She'll get the hang of it sooner or later.

Annabeth skids to a halt. "Can I go out?" She asks excitedly to the emptiness of the cabin, her voice echoing off the sparsely decorated walls. There's a pause. Then:

A voice pipes from somewhereー maybe the kitchen? "I dunno about that honey, we just-" Dad!

"Please! Just for a while!" Annabeth cuts him off and begs.

She can hear a sigh emit from him "Well, arlright..." There's a pause; most likely Helen shaking her head and laughing lightly. "But don't go too far! We don't know this place that well."

"Thank you!"

It only takes a second before Annabeth is already sliding her sandals on when she gets the ok to go, grabbing her sand castle building bucket and lathering on her sunscreen.

She beams brightly.

A vast blue sky, yellow sun, and glimmering sand. It's all so beautiful. Gorgeous. Alluring- though the seven year old doesn't quite understand what the new word means. She dashes somewhere, anywhere, excited to go see more. Meet more people! Collect sea shells! And it's fun. Fun with peeking under shells looking for crabs, getting her shorts wet from the water, getting tanned in the beating sun.

Annabeth loses track of time at one point or another. All she knows that the collection of shells in her bright red bucket are just so pretty, so why not collect some more?

'Don't go too far,' She can clearly recall her father's voice, 'We don't know this place all that well.'

That was maybe... three hours ago.

Now, the sun isn't hung that high in the sky. It's starting to dip beneath the ocean, red and orange staining the sky. The pale moon isn't visibleー but Annabeth knows that it might come out sooner or later.

Just a few more shells, she thinks, touge sticking from her lips as she struggles to carry the full bucket, Until I go back.

Where is 'back', anyways?

Annabeth doesn't know where she is right now. At all. Save for the patch of palm trees she had rested under for a while, far behind her.

Oh well. Right now, she tries to focus on collecting more shells. Now, where did that blue shell-

"Uh... What're you doing?"

The question comes as a shock to her, making Annabeth jolt slightly. She whips around.

To her left, there's, well... the ocean. To her right: A cluster of palm tress nestled in the sand. She does a full turn. Than another.

"What-" Annabeth starts in confusion, "Who's there?"

"Up here," The voice (slightly extageratted she might add) chides. It comes straight from the-

-The palm trees?

She comes face to face with blinking sea green eyes. Raven hair splays across the kids' forehead, hiding the tips of his eyes. The kids' legs swinging back and forth on one of the branches, palm leaves shaking slightly with him. Annabeth blinks owlishly in response.

"What're you doing up there?" Is all she can blurt out.

"Sitting," He says matter-of-factly. As if Annabeth couldn't already see that. "What are you doing?" The boy parrots, climbing down the wide trunk.

She steps back when he stands in front of her. He looks about her age, if she's correct. "Collecting shells?" Annabeth burries her sandal-clad heel in the sand. She picks up the blue sea shell she's had her eye on.

"Look, this ones-"

"That's mine!" The boy springs forward suddenly, taking the object from her hands. His eyes are wide like saucers. "You found my lucky shell!"

Annabeth falters. "A lucky shell? What's that?" She tilts her head in confusion. To be honest, that's one of the most ridiculous things that she has ever heard. Not that Annabeth would tell that to the person's face. That would be pretty rude.

When he doesn't respond from being too enveloped in the shine of the shell's blue coat, she grumbles.

"That isn't yours!" She says more loudly. It can't be, it can't! Shells don't belong to people; they're natural things! Aren't they? Plus, what even is a lucky shell?

He scoffs. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Annabeth stares fully at the shell. "If it's yours, then prove it."

The boy huffs as he flips the shell over, shoving it right in her face. She has to take another step back to see it properly. More like to see the small letters properly. It's small, black, and messy, but Annabeth can make out the nearly unreadable scribbles.

PERCY . J

"You're Percy?" She looks back at him.

"Mhm!" The boyー Percyー beams. "So yeah. That's my lucky shell. I was looking for it for a while."

Her eyebrow twitches. "Oh..." Annabeth trails off, dissapointed. She wanted that shell. Dang it. "Are you sure?" He nods affirmatively, making her face droop. They both stay silent for a second, letting the sound of crashing against the shore take over.

Percy turns around. "I'm gonna go back to my cabin now."

Annabeth, as if breaking out from a trance, grabs his wrist. "Wait!" She yelps, pouting.

He turns back around quickly with a grumble. "What?

"D-do you..." She lets go of his wrist once she see's the judging look on the boy's face. "Do you know where the cabins are, by any chance?"

It's a weird question out of context, really, and Annabeth isn't sure why she asks him of all people. He probably doesn't know his way around either, not to mention that she doesn't expect him to answer.

It's comes as a surprise to her when he asks: "Which ones?"

Annabeth's lips tug upwards in a hopeful smile. "Uh..." She tries to remember where it is. "The ones with the really tall palm trees beside the shore?"

Percy pauses; his eyes look up into space as if he's looking for an answer from the gods. "Oh!" He looks over behind him, "Where there's this weird blue-roofed cabin to the right?"

"Yeah! That's The one!" She exclaims. Her face lights up with memory, thinking of the exact location.

"Oh," He looks directly at her now, "That's where I'm staying, too."

"Oh." Annabeth repeats.

"Yeah."

"Huh."

The Walk back is... Normal. They bicker back and forth, throwing subtle insults. At one point Annabeth bargains to take the blue sea shell back for three of the pink ones, but Percy refuses. She huffs.

"Where'd you get your lucky shell anyways?" Annabeth asks as her feet pads onto the slightly damp sand.

"My mom," He grins, holding it high above his head. "We found it here last year, and I just kept it! She said that it would be a nice souvenir." Percy says proudly.

She wants to ask more, prod more, but it seems like they're already at their detination. The tall palm trees. The weird blue-roofed cabin. Annabeth looks over to him, as it seems like the last time they'll ever see each other. Percy, however, looks surprised.

"You're my-" He freezes, looking back and forth at the two cabins in front of them. One is Annabeth's. And the other is...

"What?" Annabeth asks. "Something wrong?"

"You're my neighbor!?" Percy gasps, horror striking his face. He takes a disgusted shudder and steps away from the blonde.

"Don't act that disgusted!" She jokingly pushes his shoulderー with a little less than just 'jokingly' in the shove. "But this actually sucks. I don't really like you," Annabeth admits.

"Me neither!" Percy rolls his eyes. "Im going inside!"

She crosses her arms as she looks away. "Me too!"

"Goodnight!"

Annabeth doesn't know howー or whenー it happens, but their friendship blooms sometime along with way.

"Whatever!"

Scratch that. Friendship is too much of a strong word. For now, the two can settle on frenemies.

Plus, their frenemieship doesn't exactly happen umpormpted; it takes the parents to force them together. Aparently, Percy had told his mom about the whole scenario. Whispers come to talk, and there they are, sitting on the steps of Percy's cabin while the two's parents talk inside. Annabeth can hear the laughs coming from inside. It makes her seethe.

"Why'd you tell?" Is all she can mutter.

"My mom asked me where I was," Percy simply says, "So I did!"

"I had to thank you ten times because of that, and now look where we are!" Annabeth glared pointedly. "They're all buddies now. Ew."

He reels. "Shut up."

"No."

"Shut up!"

"I said no!"

The door creaks open, and they both freeze.

"Annabeth!" Frederick calls out, stepping onto the wooden deck. "Oh, it looks like you two have already bonded! How nice," He smiles, looking at the two of them who sit side to side. It looks like they had just had a deep convorsationー except not the one you'd expect. Percy's mom, who Annabeth heard her name was Sally, steps beside him with her own smile.

It's weird. This nice-looking, kind woman who is related to such a loser like Percy? Even being his mom? She can't see the resemblance.

"Aw, you two look like best buds!" Sally pats the two of them on the shoulder, warm smile etched across her face. Annabeth smilies in response, despite her thoughts: She has got to ditch Percy as soon as possible.

"Why don't you two go visit downtown?" She looks over to Percy. His scowl is wiped away once she does it, replaced with a forced grin. "It'd be nice for you two to hang out, wouldn't it?"

No, it would not, Annabeth wants to say. I dislike this dude very much.

But as her life goes, she never gets what she wants.

"Okay!" Percy smiles, standing up. He makes an attempt to leave Annabeth in the dust by walking as fast as he can, his actions being immediately noticed by her. All Sally and Frederick do is confuse it with excitement.

Downtown is a sunshiney place with colourful chalk on the shop walls that line the roadsides. There's a white marble fountain in the middle of the square, and a small grass filed where people play frisbee. Ice cream, pizza, ramen, you name it. The smells make both of their mouths water with hunger. Annabeth looks over to the hotdog stand with wantful eyes.

Percy's stomach grumbles.

"What?" He asks, embarassed, when Annabeth looks over at him. She looks away, rummaging through the pockets of her jean jacket. After pulling out a few green bills, she shuffles her feet.

"Here." Annabeth stuffs two of them in Percy's hands. "Let's go buy something."

He falters. "Wha- Thanks, but why?"

"My dad always tells me to be polite," She says formaly, head held high. "And I'm trying to do it. What? You think I actually like you? Please." Annabeth won't admit it, but she doesn't actually mean it.

Percy frowns. "Whatever."

It's bland as they eat, quietness shared between the two children. Annabeth chews dryly. Percy swallows thickly. They find a spot to sit; a colorful bench in the heart of all the comotion.

"No!" Annabeth groans when her half-eaten ice popsicle falls to the concrete ground. She pouts. "Aw, come on." The biker (the reason she accidentally let it fall) is long gone without as much of a glance.

Percy, on the other hand, eyes the red popsicle. He hasn't eaten his own yetー it being still wrapped up in it's yellow wrapper.

He offers it to her.

"Huh?" She takes it suddenly, eyes slightly shocked. Her mouth waters with hunger. "I-is this for me?" Annabeth asks. She peels the wrapper off begrudgingly, the sticky texture on her fingertips. It's blueberry flavoured. One of her favourites.

"Who else?" Percy rolls his eyes.

Annabeth scoffs. "I thought you were hungry."

"Yeah, but you seem pretty hungry too."

There's two sticks in the treat, meaning that they can split it. She does so, splitting it apart with a crack, and hands it back to him while looking away. "Here. Take this."

"Aw, you like me after all!" He nudges her, smiling widely and instantly popping it in his mouth.

"Its politeness!" Annabeth can manage for the word.

Percy isn't such a loser. And neither is she.

The stars twinkle brightly by the time they head back, cicadas and crickets back again to sing their songs. Percy looks at Annabeth while she enters her cabin. Her stares at her from his own doorway.

"Goodnight." Is all he says.

Annabeth doesn't know howー or whenー it happens, but their friendship blooms sometime along with way.

This time, Annabeth replies properly. "Goodnight."

The next week goes a lot like this: Percy comes over to her room, (Frederick and Helen has already taken a liking to him) beach ball in hand and sunscreen slathered on.

"Let's go swim!" He yanks the blanket from her half-asleep figure with a snicker.

"Leave me alone, doofus!"

She always complains, but goes with him anyways.

Some days it was Annabeth who woke him up. Some days she works up at the crack of dawn just to haul him to the beach where they swam for hours. Those days, she never complains.

But today, Percy accompanies Annabeth at the airport.

"You better write back to me," He crosses his arms and huffs as she gives a lopsided smirk. Her luggage, decorated with patches she had collected, stands at her side. Her Parents chat with Percy's with hugs exchanged and sad smiles. "Or else I'm not your friend anymore."

That's the first time Percy says she's a friend.

Despite that, she remains a steady face. Her heart is racing. "You can write?" Annabeth gasps, a fake look of shock on her face. When the boy gives her a dirty look, she chuckles. "Don't worry. I'm coming back here soon."

"When?" He asks instantly.

"Next year. Maybe longer." She replies, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her feet are replaced with her green sneakers, a change from a week of wearing nothing but sandals. There's a certain sadness lacing her tone.

"That's too long."

"I know."

They seem to be acting tough, possibly for their own sakes, but it all crumbles to the ground when they both tear up. They hug each other, tightly, as if they won't be seeing each other for an eternity. Maybe they will.

"I'll write to you everyday!" Annabeth promises, pulling away. Her eyes are puffy and her nose is running.

"You better!" Percy wipes his nose on his shirt. "And I will too!"

Annabeth can't quite keep the promise of sending letters every day, that being the reason of school and other things, but she and Percy can settle on every week.

It takes both their parents to pull them away from each other when the time finally comes.

Percy's letters always has his signature blue envelope. It's bright in her hands when she opens her mailbox a week after seeing him as she reads the front. Her name is misspelled three times, and the envelope is clumsily sealed. It's exactly what she had imagined. His mom must've written it for him, because the writing is ten times more neater. The words make her smile.

That night, she reads it again.

Annabeth sends her own letters, envelope and papers with owl prints drawn on. Like Percy, her own hand writing is messy. So she has Helen write most of it for her.

Back and forth through the four seasons. They both start to send little trinkets to the other, too: dried up flowers, favourite pens, even some of Percy's favourite candiesー blue Jolly Ranchers, but they seem to taste better when he sends it.

I seriously hate school, Percy writes in a letter one week, Everyone here sucks.

Well, not a few people, but a lot of people do. They're all rude. And suck ups. Even the teachers are like that! They all just act all better than me, just because. I don't really know why.

The next part is written in his own handwriting.

But of course, they're not! I beat them in dodgeball today, but i got a bruise on my cheek when I fell flat on my face. Nothing I can't handle!

Annabeth rolls her eyes at that, pen in hand while she reads the remians of it. She notes that there's a picture attached at the bottom with a obnoxious green paperclip. Taking it off, she stares at it.

Percy beams at her; er, the camera, a noticeable bruise square on his left cheek. A band-aid is stuck onto his forehead. Annabeth can only assume where it's from. For some reason the boy is smiling toothily. He looks exactly like he had been only a while ago, tanned skin and scrawny arms. His uncureable case of bedhead has also somehow stayed intact.

She sends her own picture: A amuture snap taken by her dad, standing in the sun at the park near her house. Her lips pull upwards into a wide, bright smile.

"Say cheese!" Frederick points the lenses to her.

Annabeth beams. "Cheeeese!" She giggles.

Percy doesn't want to admit it, but he'd spent more time than he liked staring at the picture.

Annabeth and Percy are right when they next meet again; though Annabeth likes to say that she's eight and three quarters.

The girl had arrived in the middle of the night while she was still snoring. Like last time, she had woken up in a bedー the same one as of today. Though she can't quite notice. Her body still radiates tiredness, mucsles sore and limbs unmoving.

"Annabeth!" Percy shakes the blonde awake, her hair messy hair shaking back and forth. She groans through her lips.

"Wha-" She flips over, looking at him. "Its- Percy!?" Annabeth jolts upwards, eyes wide and fully awake.

He smirks at her. "Hey." Percy stands up straight now, taking a step back. "Its been a while-"

Annabeth pulls him in for a hug. "i missed you!" She says, hugging him even more tightly. "So much!" Percy, after a second, hugs back with just as much happiness. His face burries in her shoulder.

"Me too," Percy replies, voice muffled. "So much."

It might be a long minute when they finally pull away.

"I-I was just being polite," Annabeth turns away with embarassment. "Don't think too much about it."

"Y-yeah, same."

They both know that they're lying.

After a while, it almost becomes routine. They spend a blissful week together playing on the beach. Both Percy and Annabeth cry their eyeballs out when they have to leave. The rest of the year is spent exchanging letters.

Summer of when they're twelve, Annabeth says something that makes Percy frown immediately.

"We won't be able to come back here for a while," She says, laying on the sand.

"Oh." Percy says. "That's what you always say. "So... You'll be here next year."

She sighs, looking at the waves lapping across the sandy shores. People swim happily in the cool waters, unlike them, who sit under the shade of a tall palm tree.

"...Right?" He repeats slowly, carefully, when she doesn't respond.

"No." Annabeth burries her face in her hands. "We won't be coming next year. Or the year after that."

"What!?" Percy''s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And why not?"

"Helen, she... You know that the twins will be born soon. And my dad wants to take a break from vacations for a while." She grumbles.

"And that means-"

"We won't be coming back for a very, very long time."

Dread dawns onto Percy like a spotlight.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Then it truly settles in.

"Oh, no."

The next night is what Percy assumes to be the last night spent with Annabeth in a few years. That sentence makes him sick to the stomach, so he avoids thinking about it.

If he stops thinking about it, will it never happen? If he somehow begs Annabeth's parents, will she come again next year? If Percy, someway, hopes hard enough, will she be here next year, and the next?

His thoughts gnaw at him like rats. Laying awake in his messy bed, chapped lips and ruffled hair.

There's really only one thing that can help him now.

"Hey." Percy manages to sneak into Annabeth's room via window. Her room is chilly. He feels like scolding her for keeping her window unlocked, but then Percy would just sound like his mom. He nudges her softly. "Wake up."

Annabeth, groggy and sleep deprived, opens one of her eyes. "Hm? Oh..." Hse tries to keep her eyes open. "Percy?"

It's a small whisper. Her mouth is dry and her limbs are sore. Annabeth's pillow is dampened; she had just cried only hours prior before she passed out fron exhaustion. Its a bleak memory that A Annabeth cringes upon. She chews her lip.

"C'mon," Percy says, "Let's go to our spot."

Annabeth doesn't put up a arguement. She knows that he wants to spend the most time together as possible, and the feeling is mutual. She feels her own sort of sadness: An icky feeling that leaves her feeling all scummy when she remembers she wont see Percy for a very long time.

So she goes with him, cotton sweater flimsy flip-flops hastily threwn on. Their footsteps make the old wood creak, but thankfully, no one wakes from the noises.

Their 'Spot' is a hill, high above the rising tides. Its where they go every year. Its where they made memories. Its a place that they can't imagine ever staying away from.

The nightly wind is gone this particular night. It only leaves comfortable silence.

"So how long will you be away for?" Percy asks, pulling his knees to his chest. Hus eyes droop down.

Annabeth fiddles with a stick she found on the grassy ground. "I don't wanna say it. Its too long."

But after she hesitates, Annabeth gives in. "...Six years."

"What?"

"Six years," She repeats, more strongly this time, "That's my estimate."

Percy's breath hitches in his throat. Six years? Six years without her?

"That's forever." Percy comes to the horrible conclusion. No, no- there must be somesort of mistake! Annabethwill be here next year, and that's that. "Are you sure?"

Annabeth nods grimly. Her eyes are screwed shut, as if she cant see it, it won't happen. If she cant see, then maybe it'll all be a bad dream.

She's just like him.

They both know its futile to do anything else. To do something, one last thing, one last visit down, one more. Its bitterly cold. Saltwater invades their senses, and to be honestー they're both exhausted. From a week of long playing in the sun. From a lot of things.

For now, each others company is enough. To know that they're there, in person, is enough. Being together is enough.

So they lay there.

Hand in hand, shoulders pressed up together. The moonlight is the only thing helping Annabeth see in the dark, while Percy grips her hand tighter. The stars above... They're bright. Tiny, miniscule, but they're bright and shining. Like yesterday. Today. And forever. He sniffs. The sky is incoming and unchanging. That's how both Percy and Annabeth want it to beー unchanging between them.

The next morning is bland. Annabeth wakes up with a large amount of dread looming over her, like a heavy cloud of muck. From the clock on her nightstand she can read 5:02 AM; a time in which Percy is most likely fast asleep.

That doesn't really matter. They're goodbyes are said, long done, and that's that. Annabeth already had a bittersweet moment with Percy. Why ruin with a tearful goodbye?

It hurts to not say one last goodbye to him.

The airport. Even at such a early time, it still hums with livelyness and people's chattering. Well, you know what they say. The airport never really does stop working. Not for anyone.

If Percy was here now, what would he say? Give a last cocky smirk and throw a snarky insult? Annabeth would just laugh it off and hug him, as per usual, as per every year. It's a shame.

her parents have already entered the airport, leaving Annabeth standing in front of the huge terminal. She lets out a sigh and clutches her luggage closer. Well. this is it for-

"Annabeth!"

Is that- No. It can't be. Annabeth grips the metal handle of her luggage harder. It makes her knuckles turn into a sickly shade of pale, resembling a sheet of paper. He's not here. He's asleep, gone, and I'm imagining things. He can't possibly be-

"Wisegirl!"

When the voice calls out again, Annabeth knows for sure that it's him.

Percy.

The boy instantly engulfs her in a hug. It's warm, soft, familiar. All the qualities Annabeth likes most about him.

Great, she's tearing up.

"Don't forget me." Percy mumbles into her shoulder. "Please don't forget me." His voice is watery and wavering: He's crying. She can feel is tears dampening her sweater-clad shoulder, and all she can think is how she's doing the same.

"Never," Annabeth says, squeezing her eyes shut. "I promise."

Percy wants to say so much. How he woke up through his tiredness. How he biked here, all one hour of it, to find her, and how he couldn't sleep because he needed to hear her voice. Childish or immature as it be, its true.

He pulls away slowly and rummages through his pockets as he sniffs. "Here. Take this."

Annabeth's eyes widen. "You're" She grips it, mouth going dry. His shell, still blue as ever and pristine, tilts in her hands. "You're gonna give me this?"

She knows it's his favourite thing in the world, save for blue cookies and his small whale plushie. He never leaves it unattended, never dirties it, either. Annabeth knows that Percy never lends it to anyone, and keeps it like it's his life's worth. So why is he giving it to her? His eyes are teary and foggy as tears spill from his eyes, but she can't see any regret or remorse on his face. That's means he's giving it to her with no qualms, whatsoeverー But why?

"You better make sure to return it!" Percy sniffles again, wiping his runny nose on his shirt. "I'll be waiting!"

"I will."

Annabeth thinks that's the most she's cried ever.

The years pass like clockwork, because really, it is.

It's happens like any other year. She goes to school, gets good grades and live like any other day. She sends letters to Percy consistently. They're all sent with souvenirs, trinkets, little notes and scraps. It helps in a theraputic way.

Annabeth doesn't really blame her parents for taking a break. She tries to understand. And it's hard. The twins are lovely. Lovely as newborns can get, at least, they're smiley and bright. Matthew and Bobby, that's their names. They don't cry much. Annabeth likes that. They throw food at her sometimes. Annabeth doesn't like that.

Summer thirteen passes slowly. She tries to pass it with friends, but none of them can really compare to Percy.

Summer fourteen Annabeth enters Highschool. She keeps Percy's lucky she'll on her bedside table, stacked upon a cluster of books. She spends that summer inside, reading books about architecture. They can distact her from the dread of missing him.

Summer fifteen and she sends a package to Percy. There's the usual letter, one of her favourite books, and notes for the new math curriculum that they both happen to be on. She knows that he seriously hates reading, but Annabeth doesn't really expect him to read it.

(He spends all night reading it.)

Summer sixteen, and Percy sends the recipe for his mom's famous blue cookies. That makes her smile uncontrollably. Percy never trusts anyone that much to send one of his favorite recipes; much less the one for his most prized blue cookies. Annabeth is sure to send a recipe of her own for her favorite apple pie.

(Percy can't really stop eating it. Somehow, it reminds him if her.)

Summer seventeen Annabeth makes new friends. They make her mind forget about Percy more, but when she's laying awake at night, she can't really stop thinking about him. He's grown. His smile is as warm and bright as ever, and his hair which was once ruffles in a messy way had become endearing. Annabeth thinks it suits him.

She sends her own pictures. Annabeth thinks that she hasn't grown very much compared to Percy, but she's grown in height. Her hair reaches a length's past her shoulders, and her curls have become more tameable. It's easier to style.

Percy can write much better now, too. His writing is somewhat readable. His letters are still cocky and sarcastic as ever, but his words can clearly shows that he misses her. Annabeth does too. He's learned how to surf. Percy promises to teach her when she visits again. Not to mention he got a dogー a huge, massive ball of black fluff named Mrs. O'Leary. Apparently she's a rescue from one of his neighbours. Annabeth has her own dog as well; a lanky Doberman that she calls cerberus. She swears to introduce him to Mrs. o'leary.

(He looks forward to that.)

Still summer seventeen, and Annabeth learns that Percy has gotten close with someone.

She's supportive of him, of course, but Annabeth can't really say that when she frowns at the news. Rachel. That's her name. Rich, red-haired and pretty, she's probably a good fit for him. Annabeth sees her in the pictures he sends. Beach trips together, days spent in each other's company. She tries as hard as she can not to say something about it.

Rachel is pretty. Rachel is kind. She donates to homeless shelters and fundraises to help the rainforest, Rachel is the daughter of some rich buisness owner.

Rachel is everything Annabeth is not.

Laying on her bed that night, she comes to a horrible realization.

Those feelings of jealousy... They’re more than that, aren't they? It's more, so much more, it's the feeling of desire. Wanting. Because after years, Annabeth learns that she likes Percy.

And Percy likes someone else.

Summer eighteen and Annabeth is on the plane to her family’s cabin. She's eighteen years old now; it's been six years.

Six, long years of waiting, six summers spent wasting, six years of exchanging letters. Six years of waiting and longing.

Her leg bounces up and down erratically as the plane nears it's destination, the window passing blinding white clouds. The airport was just as busy as Annabeth remembered. The sights, smells, sounds... It's been a while since she's experienced this. It makes her mind race.

"You excited?" Helen gives a small smile towards her. The twins snore loudly beside her. "I bet you are. It's been a while since you've seen him, right?"

"Mhm," Annabeth hums, grinning to herself. Somehow, she already knows who Helen is talking about. "Six years."

"Hm?"

"Its been six years," She says, leaning her cheek on her palm. "Six years since I've last seen him."

Percy.

Annabeth is eighteen when she falls in love with the beach for the second time.

The cabin looks just like it was before. Dark brown wood, potted plants littering the windowsills, metal and glass chimes hanging from the ceilings. Nostalgia runs through Annabeth's mind.

So, with her hair flying behind her and parents chuckling behind her from the car, she bursts open the doors with laboured breaths. The humidity is at a level so high it gets Annabeth's hair all frizzyー but she doesn't mind one bit. She takes a deep inhale.

Fresh saltwater. Driftwood, the sweet smell of vanilla, the alluring scent of coral.

"Can I go out?" Annabeth practically jumps the whole way to the living room, parents unpacking. She runs her hands on the walls; she knows the place like a book from all the previous years spent there.

Annabeth's heart drops when they shake their heads. "Sorry, sweetie," Frederick sighs. "Could you wait until dinner? The twins would probably follow you everywhere; they're pretty energetic right now."

She frowns. "But-" Annabeth exhales, and her shoulders slump. "...Alright."

As the blonde walks back to her room, she can't help but think: Where even is Percy? At the beach? In his room? It's been a while since she last sent a letterー but Annabeth thought he would be expecting her. Maybe not. Maybe, he's busy spending time with Rachel. Not that she really blames him.

So she lays there, staring at the white ceiling. It's smooth unlike her popcorned ceilings back at her house. Annabeth can imagine what Percy's doing right now; most likely teaching Rachel how to surf, like he wrote in his most previous letter. That was... A month ago, right? She's learned how to surf, too.

Annabeth eats dinner with a small frown on her face.

What's the point? She thinks to herself, shoving the plate of noodles in her mouth. She slurps it up. What's the point in seeing him, anyways?

Well, let's see. One: I haven't seen him in six years. That's true. Annabeth's heart aches to see him again, but she can't really bring up the courage to see him.

Two: I have to return his lucky sea shell. She thinks of the shell that stands on her bedside table. It's coat is blue and chipped at that point from all the years.

Three: I really, really want to see him again. Annabeth agrees to herself to that, but there's something lacking. Something that's stopping her from seeing him.

What if Percy doesn't want to see me?

It's stupid, sure, after everything they went through, why would Percy not want to see her? The airport visit from six years ago was enough to proove her wrong, but... The doubt still lingers on Annabeth's head. Rachel was probably fine. She doesn't even know the girl for goodness sakeー why would Annabeth ever hate her in any way?

So, stepping out of the cabin with a determined look, she starts off to find Percy.

The cabin next to hers has no occupants. There's people living in there of course, the light inside gives it away. But there's none inside.

Okay. Next, the beach. The sure is setting, so only a few last minute stragglers are there. The waves are just as beautiful as Annabeth imagined. She chews on her bottom lip, where could he be? Downtown. The ice cream shop. Even the boardwalk. Annabeth has no luck in finding the raven haired boy.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

She walks up to their spot.

It's like a walk to memory lane, really, the trees stretch even farther and the grass is way outgrown. The old log that she and Percy used to sit on is now covered with moss and growing mushrooms. Annabeth smiles to herself. It's been a while.

Have those bags always been here? She thinks to herself. She eyes the bags: Two of them, one black and one a vibrant splash of colors. They must belong to someone else.

When Annabeth sees a familiar figure, she practically beams, because holy shit, it's Percy!

His shoulders are broader than she remembered. His hair is gorgeously fluffy and volumous, and his voice is more richer than Annabeth thought. But, wait- why is he talking to himself?

"Seaweed br-"

That when Annabeth sees her.

A head of red hair sits beside him, laughing to spend joke of his. Or at least that's what Annabeth thinks is happening. Oh, her face falls. That must be Rachel. She fit the description she has had in her head for a while now: Pretty. Laid back.

Annabeth thought their spot was a spot for themー a spot where their memories were made, a spot where Percy introduced her to, a spot where only Annabeth knew.

Her arm slowly drops to her side when Rachel pecks him on the cheek.

Walking back, she thinks she's a fool. How could she be the only person who knew of that place? Such an idiot! Of course Percy would find someone else, like someone else, kiss someone else. Annabeth can't blame him. She can't blame Rachel, or anyone else, because how could she?

That night, Annabeth can't fall asleep.

(Percy can't either, because he can't stop thinking about Annabeth and how he thinks he saw her back there.)

#WHY DIDWRITING THIS TAKE SO LONG #BECAUSE I HAVE TOO MUCH WIPS THATS WHY #i hate myself #percabeth #annabeth Chase #percy jackson #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #percabeth au #percabeth angst #chb #camp jupiter #the seven #camp half blood #annabeth #percy #rick Riordan #percabeth oneshot

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

aconite.

dialogue prompt #4: “You're a nightmare”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: e2l, fluff, light angst

word count: 1,070

warnings: none

summary: apparently getting stuck in an elevator with your mortal enemy is not the best situation to be in, especially when you love him.

a/n: inspired from jungkook’s red gym hoodie + sweatpants look!! not really descriptive enough I guess. drop your opinion!!!

masterlist

“You're a nightmare”

“Well you started it! ”, you snort, trying to press buttons of the elevator furiously, but that's dumb though when you know you're in the middle of some black out which has been going on for the past couple of hours.

Jungkook is stuck with you too, which is a mixture of emotions because you hated him but more like hated yourself that you love him.

“Argh!”, you give up and sigh, sliding down the walls dramatically.

Earlier this day you were heading home from the university library and since Jungkook’s daily routine would be incomplete unless you swear to kill him with bare hands, it started off as a petty fight as always, like grabbing hold of one of your reference books and shoving them in a high place so that your relatively short height could struggle. And then it would go on in loops until you have to hide in an elevator to escape only to find him tagging along.

“Just give up Y/n, you're stuck with me”. The only light source in the elevator is the flashlight from Jungkook’s phone, and half of his face is hidden in the dark, but you can say he was smirking and enjoying way more than he expected.

The news constantly said something about a storm last week, and now it's here, blowing off electricity.

“This wouldn't have happened if you stopped annoying me. I took the elevator because of you!”. You sounded like the most offended human being, but your heart says otherwise.

“Hey don't put this all on me!”, he playfully punches your arm and you return with greater force. His arms though are well articulated to even feel anything.

The more you realise that you're completely alone with Jungkook in a private space, you try to calm down your hormones. No one is allowed to look this good in red sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was on his way to gym, but apparently lost track of himself around you.

Jungkook takes out a hand gripper from his bag to keep his hands engaged, and you definitely not miss the way his arms strain against the cozy material.

“Fuck it's getting hot in here”, you mumble, trying to pull up your full sleeve and wafting air with your hands. This though you said is a truth, the closed space was suffocating and mid-June is always a pain in the ass.

“Is that so babe?”. Fuck.

You eye him in disgust, “What do you want Jungkook?”

“Just want to see you flustered”, he replies.

And out of nowhere now it's a staring contest. You don't protest and instead try to hold the same face of disapprovement. That doesn't last when Jungkook slowly leans closer to your face, way adamant to his goal.

He discards the equipment to place a hand close to your thigh on the ground.

“Look at you, all wrapped around my finger, isn't that so babe?”

You shut your eyes. “Stop calling me that”.

You feel his deft fingers grazing past the side of your face, his chuckle is deep and echoing inside the lift and you know there's no intention besides to tease you. Even though you express immense anger for him through words, none of them are the same in your actions. He expects you to push him away and throw a water bottle at his face. But he smiles seeing you lean into the touch.

“Y/n...open your eyes”.

He understands now why you closed them. They are tear filled and glossy; begging him, afraid. He can't quite understand.

“J-Jungkook I-”

“Hey shhhh… don't talk right now”.

His body is warm, his clothes as you had assumed, so soft and cuddly. When he pulls you into a hug, you clutch the cloth in a small fist and sigh at his scent. There's a brief moment of patting and playing with your hair softly before bringing your face out of his neck to inspect.

“You look beautiful even when you cry babe”. He dries a lone tear from your cheek bone, “so pretty…”

The moment he closes his eyes you're certain that he's going to kiss you.

Your eyes dart open when the lights to the elevator flashes in. There's a commotion outside, indicating people are trying to get the lift to open. Jungkook flinches to the searing light and drops his hands around you, slightly moving back.

Before the lift operator could see you flushed against him, Jungkook shoves you away from him in a jiffy.

“Are you guys alright? ”, the man with a brown beard asks. There were several people on the building stuck and it took hours before they could evacuate. The city has come back to life and the roads are well lit and sound now.

Even though pushing you off was a rational thing on part of Jungkook, you feel hurt. It felt like one moment he looked at you like he adores you and the next second shattered it all away.

“Y/n! ”. Jungkook jogs behind you. The moment you stepped out of the elevator, you were too perplexed to confront everything you did in the dark. You don't know if he means a word of what he says and does, and the greater possibility of no makes you all the more vulnerable.

“Y/n wait”.

He starts off with where he left. He turns you around in one smooth motion by your wrists and makes your lips land on his own. You don't know how to feel. It's euphoric of course, but what's yet to come after this gives you anxiety.

His kiss is eager, as if he is rushing to tell you something. You let him do whatever, and don't complain. Capturing your bottom lips between his, he nibbles and moves with fervor.

“Y/n let me say…”, he breathes, still holding your face close, “babe… can I take you out?”

You smile. “As in? ”

“As in assassination”. You chuckle. “You know what I mean Y/n, I think it's high time we go from enemies to lovers and all that cliche shit hm?”

The blush on your cheeks shoots up to the maximum if that's even possible and he is obviously smirking about how much effect he has on you. You notice that and hit his chest, “Yes I'll be there”.

He sighs and kisses you again, “You're such a nightmare aren't you”.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

no grave can hold my body down – 1/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better.

Word Count: 5,500

A/N: I am very new to this fandom and extremely nervous to write something for it. To clarify, I have not read any of the comics. But I’ve watched a lot of the TV and movie adaptations, and have done a lot of research. Jason is much older in this – like 30? – and therefore the rest of the BatFam is older, as well. But this takes place after Jason Todd is resurrected, but is still on rocky territory with his family.

Jason dropped down to the fire escape of his apartment with a quietness that seemed impossible for how large he was.

On the other side of the small fire escape, Y/N sat with a blanket over her lap, a book in her hand, and a mug of coffee balanced perfectly on the metal grates.

“Thought I told you not to wait up for me,” Jason greeted, knowing she noticed his arrival, but just kept reading her book. His book, to be precise.

It was almost 4AM and Jason had called it a night after taking out an entire drug cartel. It had been a lot of waiting, until it finally led up to 20 minutes of utter chaos. He left them on a silver platter for the police to arrest them and actually clean up the mess.

Y/N finally looked up at him and he saw how tired her eyes seemed. But she gave him a soft smile, clearly happy to see him home and...alive.

A pang of guilt went through him. He did that to her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she told him with a shrug.

Jason slowly nodded. Then he nudged his head towards the book, “Jane Eyre again?”

She smirked. “It’s a comfort read.”

He smiled back at her – which she couldn’t even see, because he was still wearing the red helmet that covered his entire head.

“You shouldn’t stay out here so long. It’s too cold.”

“I was waiting for you,” she countered.

“I thought you couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t…because I was worried about you,” she finally admitted.

There it was.

“You have a voicemail on your cellphone. Alfred called,” she quickly added to change the subject.

Jason left his personal cellphone at home when he was on patrol, not wanting any sort of pointless distractions. Y/N had a direct line to his comms if there was an emergency, which was the only thing he cared about. His old family could figure out ways to contact him if they really wanted to. But he didn’t go out of his way to give them that info.

“Get inside before you catch a cold,” he told her as he nodded toward the open window.

She chuckled at his attempt to sound stern. It was hard for her to take it seriously. But she listened to him anyway, knowing that if she tried to ignore him, it would end in him dragging her inside. And that was not a physical battle she ever had a chance at winning.

30 minutes later, Y/N was laying in bed and still reading her book as Jason tried to erase the night.

He always took long, scolding showers after patrol. Even if there was no blood to be washed away, there was always a need to cleanse himself of…something.

Y/N had asked him if he was hurt as she crawled through the window back inside their apartment.

“I’m fine,” he’d insisted.

But she knew “fine” just meant he didn’t need stitches, or bones reset, or the need to call the actual doctor he had a certain under-the-table deal with. She also knew she shouldn’t be surprised when he took off his clothes and she would see new bruises and shallow cuts covering his skin.

Jason finally crawled into bed with nothing but his black briefs. His hair still wet from the burning shower he just took.

He let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling.

It was always a battle for Y/N, trying to figure out when to leave Jason to his thoughts and when to force him to talk. She knew he couldn’t drown himself in his own mind. But she also knew she couldn’t pretend to be his therapist.

“J?” She asked him softly as she put her book down.

“Hmm?” He asked, looking at her.

“You OK?”

He nodded.

She let it be.

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Alfred has a foundation to raise money for under-funded schools in Gotham. It’s all him, but it has Bruce’s name all over it so all the rich assholes will want to save face with the Wayne family by donating.”

“I can support that type of manipulation,” Y/N said with a smirk.

“He holds a gala at Wayne Manor for it every year. Gets them at least a mil every time.”

She listened closely.

Then Jason looked at her again. “He asked me to come this year.”

“Oh,” her face fell.

Jason had told Y/N about his tumultuous relationship with his family. While he mended most of the damage with his brothers, he wasn’t quite willing to do so with Bruce. Y/N didn’t try to push Jason to reconcile with his adoptive father. She understood his heartbreak and frustrations there. She wasn’t a huge fan of Bruce herself after learning the damage he’d done to her boyfriend.

But it was because of the past traumas that Y/N hadn’t met any of Jason’s hodgepodge, vigilante family.

She also guessed that it was his overprotectiveness of her that stopped him from wanting to fully submerge her in that part of his life. To Jason, the less she knew about the Bat Family, the safer she was.

“He asked me to bring you, too.” Jason suddenly added.

Y/N blinked. “I…I didn’t realize they knew about me.”

He smirked at that. “Of course they do.”

“Even Bruce?”

His smirk disappeared. “Well, I didn’t tell him. But he’s a nosey son of a bitch. And even if he didn’t figure it out for himself, one of my brothers probably ran their mouth.”

Y/N didn’t think Jason and Bruce had a conversation out of uniform since he became the Red Hood. Probably hadn’t even addressed each other by their actual names in years.

Y/N fully turned on her side to face her boyfriend and scooted closer. “What do you want to do?” She asked carefully.

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he too turned on his side and stole a look at her. She looked so tired, but still beautiful. He knew he put her through too much. He didn’t deserve her. And she deserved a better man than he could ever be. He had guilt on his conscience, blood on his hands. He was the poster child for the harshness that was Gotham. She was a normal woman who would’ve never gotten mixed up in this world if it weren’t for him.

But Y/N insisted that she wanted to be here. Told him so by just staying each and every day, and never questioning her decision. Even left New York City to slum it in Gotham with him.

Jason brushed some hair away from her face.

“You’d come with me?”

Her face scrunched from him even feeling the need to ask. “Of course.” Then she gave him a sad look, “I’ve been wanting to meet your family for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.

Her eyes darkened. “You know why, J.”

He stayed silent.

“Listen, I know things haven’t been…good with your family. But I also know that they raised you. Whether you want to admit it or not, a lot of the man you are today is because of them. And I happen to love that man. So, yeah, I’ve wanted to meet them.”

Jason had a look full of love that he was trying to contain. “Come here,” he demanded with a grin.

Y/N giggled and moved into his arms.

Jason immediately pivoted her body so she was hovering over him. Without any hesitation, he pulled her down for a kiss.

“It’s gonna be filled with rich snobs and ass kissers. Don’t go hoping for a fun time,” he warned her as he narrowed his gaze playfully.

“Then you’re really gonna need me there. Who else is gonna make fun of them with you?” She teased.

Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Will this be a fancy affair?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her gaze darkened. “So, I’m gonna see you in a suit, huh?”

Jason pinched her sides.

Y/N yelped before laughing, “Do you even own a suit? I’ve never seen it in your closet.”

Suddenly he flipped her body so he was now the one hovering over her. Y/N couldn’t ignore Jason’s massive size when she was caged below him like that. “You’re on thin ice, kid.”

“Oooh. I’m so scared,” she mocked.

Jason almost looked offended.

But he sighed, getting back to the previous subject. “If I have to wear a suit, that means you have to wear a dress.”

“Or I could wear a suit, too.” She countered and raised a brow at him.

He smirked at her challenge. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one either.”

That seemed to please her.

“I promise I’ll look real pretty. Ya know, really play the part of the arm candy for the famous Jason Todd.”

Jason scoffed. “You’re always beautiful.” Then his gaze darkened. “And the arm candy was always Bruce and Dick’s thing. Not mine.”

“OK. So what should I be?”

“My accomplice,” Jason confirmed.

——————————————————

Y/N fidgeted in the back seat of the car as the black car drove to the outskirts of Gotham and to the Wayne Estate.

Jason had sent her a text from his patrol comms about something coming up. Vague, as always. He did it to keep her in the dark as much as possible.

Apparently he’d tried to tell Alfred they couldn’t make it. But the old man wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. He told Jason he’d send a car for Y/N and that he better show up too.

Y/N had worn her fanciest dress, curled her hair, and done her makeup to perfection. She knew she could dress the part, but it was the acting bit that had her stressed out.

Despite Jason’s relationship with his family, she still dreaded the thought that they wouldn’t like her and that they wouldn’t approve. Yeah, they were secretly vigilantes, but they were also the richest people in Gotham.

Y/N swallowed as the car parked right outside the front entrance of Wayne Manor. There seemed to already be hundreds of people there. Everyone looked rich and fancier than Y/N could ever even pretend to be.

‘You’re here for Jason. You’re here for Jason.’ She repeated in her mind as the driver opened the door for her and offered his hand.

Y/N told herself to become a character as she held her head high and made her way into the mansion.

“Mansion” didn’t even seem to cover it. Y/N felt like she was in a Jane Austen novel or Downton Abbey.

Guests eyed her as soon as she made her way inside. She was much younger than the general demographic of the party. It seemed that old money also meant literally old.

She did a once over to see if she could find Jason. But he was nowhere to be found. Y/N decided she needed a drink to face a gala full of unwelcoming strangers alone.

She ignored the curious and judgmental gazes as she made her way to one of the many bars set up through the home.

‘Maybe red was too much,’ her imposter syndrome was telling her. Clearly it was making her stick out. But she knew Jason loved seeing her in red.

Y/N quickly ordered a strong drink from the bartender, who was kind enough to sense that this young woman needed liquid courage and she needed it fast.

“Are you sure you meant to use that bottle?” A male voice came up beside her, speaking to the bartender on her behalf.

Y/N turned to see a very boyishly handsome man with blue eyes and brown hair so dark that it was almost black.

He gave that bartender a look and Y/N watched as he nervously grabbed the much more expensive brand – the one Y/N would never in her life buy for herself.

“Thank you,” Y/N said as politely as possible when the bartender slid the drink towards her.

Then she turned her attention to the young man. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He gave her a crooked smirk. “You deserve the very best.”

Y/N might not have ever met Jason’s brothers. But they were famous enough to make frequent appearances in the media. Everyone in Gotham knew what the Wayne kids looked like. Especially Dick Grayson, who seemed to thrive in the spotlight in a similar manner to his father.

“Oh? And how do you know what I deserve? You don’t know me at all,” Y/N challenged with a tilt of her head.

Her sass seemed to excite him.

“Well, I was hoping, since I saved you from the cheap stuff, that you’d give me a chance to.”

Y/N shook her head with an almost baffled smile. This faux charm and air of confidence was so unlike Jason’s. While Jason was quietly confident and sure of himself. It came almost from a place of nihilism. But Dick…Dick had an edge of haughtiness and self importance.

“Your reputation precedes you, Dick Grayson,” Y/N cooed, with mischievous glint in her gaze, before taking a sip of her drink. He was right: this was the good stuff.

Dick’s amusement seemed to falter now that she confessed to knowing exactly who he was. “And what reputation is that exactly?”

“Cocky, charming…flirtatious.”

Dick didn’t seem to mind these adjectives at all. In fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. He stepped a little closer to her. “It feels a little unfair that you seem to know me, but I haven’t even gotten your name.”

Y/N tried to suppress her smile. She was really starting to enjoy this little game. “You’ll realize soon enough.”

“Well, until then…” He stepped even closer and somehow managed to put his hand on her back without it feeling creepy. “Would you like to dance?”

“Move that hand any lower, Dick, and I’ll fuckin’ break it,” Jason said from behind Y/N.

Dick barely moved away from Y/N, but looked at his brother with confusion.

Y/N turned and maneuvered her body away from Dick’s grasp.

Then she smiled at Jason as she took in the sight of her boyfriend wearing a suit. Like, a real suit, not one made for a vigilante. He managed to tame his hair without using too much product. And his face had its signature scruff but cleaned up a bit.

“How long has this one been annoying you?” Jason asked her.

“Not long,” she replied before giving him a sweet kiss.

Y/N turned to face Dick again, but remained close to Jason’s side. On instinct alone, Jason placed his hand on her back and pulled her even closer. It wasn’t possessive, but a habit he formed to comfort himself.

Dick blinked as his mind clearly figured out the change in situation.

“You’re Y/N?” He asked her.

She smirked. “Told you that you’d realize it soon enough.”

“Dick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is, Dick Grayson.”

Y/N didn’t miss how Jason didn’t refer to Dick as his brother.

To his credit, Dick recovered rather quickly and politely offered his hand. Y/N didn’t hesitate to shake it. After all, she still wanted to make a good impression on his family. And the flirting was harmless.

“I apologize for…” Dick’s words died out.

“Hitting on me?” Y/N offered with a laugh. “I would say I’m flattered, but I’m sure I’m one of many women you will be making moves on tonight.”

“Do it again, and I’ll swap out the rubber bullets in my guns, Dick.” Jason half warned and half joked.

Dick seemed unfazed by the threat. “Why don’t you say it a little louder so more people can hear?”

Jason ignored his brother’s warning.

He turned his gaze down to Y/N. “Let’s go introduce you to Alfred.”

Jason held her hand as he made his way through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to do. Y/N assumed it had to do with him technically being a Wayne or perhaps it was his large and imposing frame that told people to get the hell out of his way.

Then Y/N was standing in front of an elderly man who had perfect posture and mischievous edge to his welcoming smile.

“Master Jason, I see that you have finally brought Ms. Y/L/N for me to meet,” Alfred said with a smile.

Out of all his siblings and father, Alfred seemed to be the only family member that Jason didn’t hold any sort of grudge against. Though Y/N wasn’t really sure what anyone would have against him. From everything she heard, he sounded absolutely lovely.

He held out his hand, which Y/N instantly went to shake. But instead, Alfred brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. There was something about this family that made everything they do seem charming rather than creepy and uncomfortable.

Y/N laughed at the gesture. “It’s so nice to meet you, Alfred. I’ve heard so much about you.”

He patted her hand before letting it go gently. “I wish I could say the same for you, dear. But it would appear Master Jason prefers to keep you entirely to himself.”

She just gave him a polite – yet controlled – smile. Another side effect of Jason being overprotective of her.

“Thank you for sending the car for me. You didn’t have to do that,” she told him.

“Oh, nonsense. I would not allow this one to use any excuse for missing tonight.”

Y/N asked him about his foundation with genuine interest. Alfred answered all of her questions with enthusiasm. She wondered how often Alfred got to talk about normal things with the Wayne family. She could only imagine the manor was entirely consumed with matters of vigilantism.

Alfred also asked Y/N far more questions about herself than she was prepared for. It made her realize that Jason really did keep her quite the secret. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be offended by it, but it made her sad that Jason’s family had clearly shown such an interest in her. Had she known, she may have put more pressure on Jason to introduce her.

There was a lull in conversation when Alfred’s gaze turned to Jason.

“Have you spoken with him yet?” He asked evenly.

They all know who ‘him’ was.

“I’m here for you, Alfred.” Jason quickly answered. “And we’ve kept you selfishly to ourselves for far too long. I’m sure everyone here wants to talk with you.”

Nice save.

Alfred dipped his head and lowered his voice, “Oh, you are two of the few people here whom I actually wish to converse with…” He finished with a wink before leaving them.

“And here I thought you got all your charm from Bruce Wayne,” Y/N teased her boyfriend.

But when she looked up at Jason, he had a dazed looked in his eyes.

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand in comfort. “You don’t need to talk to him if you don’t want to. In fact, we can go now if you want.”

Jason snapped out of it then. “And leave without destroying this open bar? Absolutely not.” Then he seemed to take her in for the first time that night. “Plus, you deserve to be shown off.”

He leaned down to her ear. “I was so distracted with saving you from Dick that I didn’t get the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight.”

No matter how many times he said things like that to her or made her feel this way, she still managed to blush at such compliments.

And for good measure, Jason sealed the praise with a kiss, lightly gripping her chin to make sure she didn’t escape too soon for his liking.

He barely pulled away from her lips when he smiled and muttered, “Come on. Let’s go steal ourselves a bottle of Dom Pérignon.”

“Jason,” she scolded in a whisper, “Those cost like $2,000!”

“Exactly.”

The next hour or so was filled with Jason and Y/N drinking champagne while standing in a corner that protected them from being interrupted. And Y/N did exactly as she promised: joking with Jason about all the stuck up rich people that just came to kiss ass and social climb.

They were laughing about an old man that was desperately trying to hit on a young woman half his age when someone politely cleared their throat beside them.

But Jason smiled at the interruption.

A young man, who couldn’t be older than his early 20s, was giving Y/N a delighted smile. However, the first thing she noticed were the shadows under his eyes and how tired he looked. But that didn’t stop his excitement from showing.

“Y/N, this is my younger brother, Tim Drake. Tim, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

With a dorky enthusiasm, he shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve all been annoying Jason about bringing you around for quite some time.”

She smiled, “So I’ve heard…” Then she gave Jason a subtle accusatory look.

Tim’s face turned serious, as if he just remembered why he came over in the first place. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Jason would you mind…umm…looking at something for me real quick?”

Jason’s back straightened.

Tim was trying to be polite to the two’s relationship by keeping out any and all details pertaining to their night life.

But it was clear to Y/N that was what Tim was referring to.

Jason looked down at her.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she teased him. “Go. I can entertain myself.”

He kissed her cheek and whispered, “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, please come rescue me.”

She chuckled. “I would, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find you...”

“I’ll bring him back in no time, Y/N. Promise.” Tim told her with a beaming smile.

Y/N watched them go and Jason gave her one last reluctant look over his shoulder before he disappeared around a corner.

Y/N sighed and poured another glass of champagne and told herself it was time to mingle. But when she looked up, there wasn’t a single person that looked like they had any interest in making new friends.

‘Some party this is,’ she thought to herself before abandoning her post and deciding to take herself on a tour of Wayne Manor.

Y/N decided she wanted to escape the curious and judgmental gazes of the party, and found herself in a darker hallway. Candles were lit everywhere, giving it a gothic semblance.

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened when she realized she’d discovered a hallway filled with artwork. Millions upon millions of dollars worth of artwork, to be precise.

She was glad no one else seemed to have wandered this far, for she could take her time to look at all of it.

“I think you might be the only guest of the manor who has ever taken the time to look at the artwork.”

Y/N jumped at the voice and turned to see the infamous Bruce Wayne watching her with what seemed to be amusement.

He was nearly as tall as Jason – nowhere near as stout, though. But that didn’t seem to matter because he had an intimidating presence that had Y/N realizing it made perfect sense that this man was also Batman.

She had no idea how long she’d been staring at the paintings. It was easy for her to get lost in art. It tended to consume her.

“Well, not everyone has a Caravaggio casually hanging in their home.”

Bruce chuckled at that.

“Sorry,” she quickly told him. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I feel like I’m at the Louvre.”

“Please,” he declined such an apology. “No one in that party could tell the difference between an oil and acrylic painting. It’s refreshing to meet someone who can appreciate art.” He paused. “Have you been?”

“Have I been where?”

“To the Louvre.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Umm...no, sadly. It’s been my dream to go to Paris in general. I don’t speak French, though. So I don’t know how that would work out.”

Bruce Wayne seemed to be listening closely and had genuine interest in what she was saying. Which felt strange to her for some reason.

Suddenly, Y/N felt like she shouldn’t be talking to him. Jason made it clear he had no intention of making peace tonight. So Y/N figured she was meant to keep her distance as well.

“I’m…” she began.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Bruce finished for her.

She raised a brow, unimpressed.

Of course Batman would know every single person coming into his home. He probably caught her lingering in this hallway from multiple hidden security cameras.

He reached out his hand. “Bruce Wayne.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between his fixed stare and his offered hand.

But it ended with her shaking it, nonetheless.

“Thank you for bringing Jason tonight. I have a feeling he would’ve never shown had it not been for you.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched in an attempt to stop herself from lashing out at Bruce.

Yes, Jason was protective of her. But Y/N was also protective of Jason.

It wasn’t the Wayne family that talked Jason out of the darkness. They weren’t the one who comforted him after his nightmares. They weren’t the one who kissed and touched the autopsy scars that he was ashamed of. They weren’t the one who made him realize he wasn’t a failure or a monster, that he was worth something.

That was Y/N.

And she wasn’t going to let any of them cause him to relapse.

“Did he tell you not to talk to me?” Bruce questioned.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Jason doesn’t tell me what to do.”

Bruce smirked at how she didn’t back down and met his confrontation with confidence. “You’re not too fond of me, are you?”

Y/N shifted her weight a bit, but kept quiet, not wanting to confirm or deny his suspicions.

“I’m not sure what Jason told–”

“He told me everything,” Y/N cut him off sharply.

Bruce tilted his head. “Surely not everything.” Proving that he knew Jason completely kept Y/N away from his vigilante and crime life.

Then Y/N lost her composure and took a step toward Bruce. “You call him your greatest failure,” she accused him.

“Because I let him down.”

“But it doesn’t matter how you meant it. How do you think that makes him feel?”

Bruce’s body tensed and his jaw tightened.

Suddenly a dog came running out of nowhere and nearly tackled Y/N. She managed to stay on her feet, but her glass of champagne was knocked from her grasp and shattered on the floor.

“Titus!” Bruce growled at the dog.

A second later, a boy came running.

“Damian, what did I tell you about keeping pets away from parties,” Bruce scolded.

“I apologize,” Damian told Y/N in a voice that should’ve belonged to an adult, rather than a pre-teen boy. But he seemed rather annoyed that he had to apologize to a stranger.

Y/N chuckled at the black Great Dane. She barely had to bend down to pet the giant dog. “It’s fine. Dogs are always my favorite people I meet at parties.”

Damian looked between his father and Y/N, immediately getting the sense that she was not the average party guest.

“Who’s she?” He asked bluntly.

“Damian, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Bruce gestured with an upturned palm.

“Todd’s companion?” Damian stated, clearly sounding unimpressed.

Jesus. They really did all know about her.

“Damian…” was all Bruce said to warn his son.

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“That’s enough, Damian.” Bruce snapped.

That finally got the boy to shut his mouth.

Y/N was about to tell both of them that it was fine. She had expected such greetings from Jason’s youngest brother.

But her attention was diverted when she noticed Jason standing at the edge of the hallway.

Bruce followed her gaze.

There was a stare down between the two men that felt like an hour to Y/N.

“Jason,” Bruce greeted steadily.

Jason looked at his family coldly. “Bruce,” he replied with even less emotion. Then he looked down at his youngest brother, “Demon Spawn.”

“Todd,” Damian spat back.

Jason’s gaze softened when it landed on Y/N. Ignoring the tension, he reached out a hand in her direction. “We should say our goodbyes to Alfred.”

Y/N nodded and walked to her boyfriend, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He quickly guided them back to the party without a second glance to Bruce and Damian.

As soon as they were in a mass of people again, Y/N turned to Jason to ask him if he was OK. A part of her felt guilty, like she’d been caught doing something bad by being alone with Bruce Wayne.

But Jason seemed to sense her concern and spoke before she could. “I’m stealing another bottle of champagne before we go,” and quickly went to the bar.

“He lasted longer than I expected,” Dick’s voice came up beside her.

Y/N barely glanced at him. “I’m proud of him,” was all she replied, as they both watched him.

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t give you the best first impression.”

Y/N fully turned to face him and laughed lightly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m sure you think we’re all just being polite…but all of us really were looking forward to meeting you, Y/N.”

“Even Damian?” She teased.

Dick laughed. “Well, rumor is that Titus took an immediate liking to you. And Damian trusts his pets’ judgement of character more than any of ours.”

News really did travel fast in this family.

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ve wanted to meet all of you for so long. I’m glad we finally made it happen.” She went back to their original topic.

Dick winced. “I’d rather not think about what Jason’s said about us…”

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” she countered.

“Ready to go?” Jason interrupted, ignoring Dick.

For good measure, he dipped down to kiss Y/N’s bare shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s go say bye to Alfred.”

But she turned back to Dick. And to everyone’s surprise, she wrapped him into a hug. Dick was surprised, but welcomed the gesture.

“Please keep an eye on him out there,” she whispered to him quietly enough so Jason didn’t have a chance of overhearing.

“Of course,” he told her.

————————

Bruce pretended to be listening to a conversation with old family friends as he watched Y/N and Jason hug Alfred goodbye.

He noticed Y/N say something to Alfred that made the butler’s face go serious. Then she handed him a business card.

Bruce wanted to talk with Jason. He’d been both dreading and looking forward to tonight, hoping a miracle would occur and he could finally mend things with his son.

But the way Jason had looked at him, Bruce knew everything he was feeling and it was clear Jason wasn’t going to let things go between them any time soon.

Bruce politely excused himself and went to Alfred’s side.

“What was that last bit about?” Bruce asked, indirectly telling Alfred that he’d been observing their conversation.

Now the two men both watched Jason and Y/N from a window that gave a view of the front drive.

Y/N threw her head back and laughed loudly at something Jason had whispered in her ear.

“She asked if I could teach her first aid.”

They both know it went much deeper than first aid. Y/N was asking Alfred to show her how to stitch wounds, how to extract bullets, when to know Jason was too hurt to be fixed up by his inexperienced girlfriend.

“She’s good for him,” Bruce thought aloud.

“That she is, Master Bruce.”

“I forgot what his laugh sounded like.” Bruce paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve never seen him smile like this. Not even before…” His words died. They both knew what ‘before’ was referring to.

Suddenly Y/N pointed to Jason as she walked backwards, clearly giving him a warning of some sort.

But Jason ignored her as he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around her thighs, securing her body to his chest, while the other hand held a bottle of champagne.

They could hear Y/N’s laughter, even from inside the mansion.

Alfred observed how Bruce watched his second son. “You must give him more time, Master Bruce.”

However, Bruce said nothing in return.

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

Part 2

Please, please, please let me know what you think. I will take constructive criticism on my characterization of Jason Todd, as long as it’s done nicely😅

[Also, I finally stopped being lazy and made my own header. 😂]

904 notes · View notes

astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eight - “hovel, sweet hovel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n arrive the shelter and take a look at what it has to offer.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: what would you like to see happen next? let me know! (p.s. this is what i pictured the shelter/hovel to look like)

"I think this is it," Bucky said, looking forward at the structure in front of them.

"That's the 'shelter?'" Y/N huffed, hopelessly annoyed.

They had been walking and jogging on and off for forty-five minutes straight. Her feet killed.

"We're... gonna die."

"We are not gonna die, Y/N."

"Look at it! That is a hovel!"

"Well, inside's better than outside," Bucky retorted. "At least no one will see us if we're in there. It looks abandoned, they'll assume it actually is.”

She sighed and followed behind Bucky into the shelter. It was a one story stone structure that looked so old and weathered. It... looked like a shed. An old ass stone shed. She briefly wondered if Wakanda had a storm season because she was almost certain this thing wouldn't withstand it.

The door let out an anticipated squeak, and she was just as disappointed to see the inside as she was the outside. Bucky put the bags down and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah... this... isn't great..."

It was just as small as it seemed. And empty. Mostly. There were a few withered shelves with dusty pots and bowls, and an even more withered attempt at a table. There was what looked like a furnace in one corner with old, rotted wood in it. The wooden floor creaked under their steps.

The whole place felt like a ghost: desolate, ancient, and lonely. Except for one peculiar thing...

"Bucky?" she beckoned.

"Hm?"

(Y/N) hadn't noticed it when she first entered, but in the middle of the table sat a small, shiny, black panther figurine. It posed on all fours, looking ferociously up at her. It looked so out of place in contrast of the eternal layer of dust on everything else.

"What is this?" she asked reaching for the one thing that didn't match.

When her hand wrapped around it, energy surged into her skin. It felt almost... alive.

"(Y/N) what-" Bucky was cut off by a sound that startled them both.

In the corner across from the furnace, a section of the floor starting moving. Wood on wood on stone was not a good sound. Nonetheless, in mere seconds, there was an opening, and if (Y/N) leaned forward, she could see stairs!

Both of them remained still, feet planted on the creaky floor. They immediately looked at each other.

"What did you do?"

"I'm... not sure. I think I opened it."

(Y/N) smirked.

"What?" Bucky asked, confusion clearly evident in his tone.

"I should've known," (Y/N) shook her head. "Shuri wouldn't have led us here unless there was something more."

She held the panther figurine as she walked towards the opening.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "We don't know that Shuri knew that was here. What if it's a trap?"

"A trap from who? I don't think anyone knows we're here except Shuri."

"I don't know. J-Just let me go first."

"Alright. After you, oh wise one," she acquiesced, voice sarcastic but endearing all the same.

Bucky tried to suppress a chuckle. "Smartass. You're the wise one."

She tried to go down the stairs, letting him go first, but apparently that wasn't enough.

"Wait, just let me go look around and I'll holler when it's all good."

"Holler? Who says holler?"

"Me. Wait here."

"Fine," she made a show of pointedly plopping down on the top step, still and waiting as he requested.

It only took about ten seconds.

"Woah..." his voice came from far away.

"What is it?!" (Y/N) leaned forward.

"You were right! Come down, you gotta see this!"

She wasted no time... and standing beside Bucky, her jaw dropped.

"Holy..."

Beneath the ground was a significantly larger, way more modernized, and highly advanced survival shelter. All equipped with smaller versions of a table, chairs, and cabinets, along with a compact freezer and miniature stove, a chest, a closet, and two sets of bunk beds. Everything was clean and looked in optimal condition. There was even a rug.

"Shuri definitely didn’t leave you with nothing," Bucky commented, still taking it all in.

"-us with nothing," she corrected, retreating back up to the shed to get the bags.

Later in the day, (Y/N) got a handle on the panther key and how to use it to open and close the entryway to the bunker. Once she figured it out, she kept it closed, ensuring their concealment and maximizing their safety.

Bucky had found his way into the closet, listing off the contents to (Y/N) who sat on the floor, back up against one of the bunk bed legs. She was exhausted. Her body had been assaulted by adrenaline and strenuous mortal-danger-physical-activity. Bucky seemed to be fine, though. Curse that super soldier serum. His energy was always so high.

"...oh, and here's the bedding stuff. I don't know what this is, though."

(Y/N) lethargically leaned her head over to get a good view of the closet.

She chuckled. "That's a space heater...Oh! And next to it - that's a portable AC. Makes sense. I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."

And her head rolled back to center, eyes closing, body exhausted.

Bucky seemed to notice. "Hey, if you're tired, I can make the beds...or at least yours if you wanna sleep now."

(Y/N) stretched her legs straight out in front of her. "No, that's okay."

She wasn't about to force her one armed friend to make a bed for her. That's just rude. Especially after he carried those bags. She felt bad; she wished she had done more.

"Nah, I don't mind. It's not like I got anything else to do," he insisted, bringing the bedding over.

(Y/N) stood, body internally complaining in aching protest. She didn't really have the energy to expertly persuade him.

"Buck, it's fine." Her voice was faint.

He didn't even stop to hesitate, seemingly determined on the task. She thought it better to just give up and let him do his thing since he was so set on it. However, the sheet was fitted and there were pillow cases, not really one-arm friendly assets. He was struggling... very clearly. (Y/N) felt even worse.

He started moving quicker, frustration jerking his arm in quick, irritated bursts as he was trying to get the sheet to stay. There was still no success.

She stepped forward gently. "Bucky..."

"Damn it!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the bed frame before forcefully standing up. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing his eyes in disappointment.

(Y/N) was a statue. She had never seen him mad before; she had no idea what to do. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't scared, she just wasn't sure what to say.

"Can't fuckin' do anything," he muttered under his breath.

She finally moved forward. "Hey, forget the bedding, it doesn't matter-"

"Yes it does," he turned. "We're hiding from a collapsed regime and I can't even make a damn bed. Plus you've done so much for me, I just wanted to help with something. I just wanted to be able to do something."

Oh. Suddenly, his anger was gone. It was replaced with a miserable helplessness. It made her chest tight; she needed to fix this.

"Buck, you don't owe me anything. I'm here because I wanted to help, not because I was expecting anything in return. And I don't know what you've been paying attention to, but I watched you carry the majority of those - heavy - bags the entire way here while simultaneously figuring out the way to the shelter while my brain was momentarily smooth. You were the voice of reason in that chaos we just escaped from, and it's a damn good thing you were so calm because I don't know if I could have handled the panic of the both of us."

"You could've," he murmured. "And I wasn't calm, I'm just used to this. I was trained for situations like this."

No, she wasn't going to lose to deflection.

"Regardless, you were a huge help. Seriously."

He still didn't look convinced.

"In fact, I feel more safe here with you than I would with Shuri and the Queen. You're like a super soldier body guard."

A look washed over his face that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. He looked at her quizzically, like he was trying to figure something out.

"You... feel safer with me?"

"That's what I said, yes."

"You're not like... worried about..."

"The Winter Soldier? No."

He sighed. "How can you be so sure? You have no idea if or when I might... you know."

"We are literally the only people here, and I don't plan on saying the trigger words. So unless you plan on saying them, I don't really think we have anything to worry about. And, even if you did 'you know,' you could definitely get away with it and no one would find the body."

He turned bright red. "What?!"

"I'm kidding! Sorry. But Bucky, you've been doing so well with me and Shuri, and honestly the Hydra programming might not even be there anymore."

"But we don't know for sure!"

"Bucky..." she pleaded, turning her head slightly as to say what is this about?

"I can't trust my own mind," he sighed looking at the floor. "I just don't wanna do anything bad. It's just - weird that you don't seem to be worried at all."

"Why is that?"

"Everyone sees me as a monster."

The room was dead silent. He wasn't looking at her, but if (Y/N) looked at him any harder, she was sure she'd burn a hole through his head. How could anyone see this man as a monster? Logically, she understood what other people saw. But personally, she couldn’t find it in her to perceive him like that. It just didn’t work. All she could find was gentleness, compassion, and sincerity.

"I can't see you as something you're not," she said, whisper soft. "I don't care if you hands are 'scarred from murder' or however you said it a few sessions ago. I trust them entirely."

He finally looked up at her, his face filled with something she couldn't quite place. It looked a bit like disbelief and then it changed into relief and then something else entirely. A slow smile crept up on his lips.

"...hand."

"What?"

"My hand. Singular. Not hands."

A deep, deep smile - to match the one on Bucky - grew on her face just before the pair started cracking up ridiculously. Perhaps this was an odd way of releasing the tension, fear, frustration, and exhaustion of the day. Nevertheless, laughter was cathartic. It was so cathartic that eventually (Y/N) could hardly catch her breath and Bucky's stomach hurt. This went on for several minutes.

In time, they both calmed down. She didn't remember when exactly it happened, but they were both sitting on the floor now. They sat in between the two bunk beds, facing one another, each back leaning against a respective bedpost.

The atmosphere was different now, but not in a bad way. It felt like 2 a.m. at a sleepover, when the conversations get drowsily deep, with slow voices and honest confessions. It was heavy eyelids and low inhibitions.

A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over her. She let her head fall slack against the bedpost, resting.

"Bucky, what were sleepovers like in the forties?" she asked softly, eyes closing ever so delicately.

"Well," he started, getting into a story of his past with Steve and the couch cushions.

And that's how she fell asleep. Sitting on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, and listening to his voice fade out into the background of her consciousness.

If only she knew how she would wake up: laying comfortably on one of the beds, with one blanket on top of her and another below her because he couldn't get the sheet to cooperate. With the pillowcase carefully draped atop the pillow instead of enveloping it because that's what one hand would allow. With the bed next to her being slept in with no blanket because he used his as the replacement for the sheet he couldn’t get to cooperate.

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #marvel #steve rogers #bucky reader insert #bucky blurb #bucky drabble #bucky fic #marvel fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

Note

this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

#snail anon #csdsc #sunflower anon #turtle anon #eyes anon #tea anon #peacock anon #alien anon #bear anon #THAT WAS A LOT #anyways next time im just gonna spam you all fsfsgdsgd

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waxandroses · 3 years

Note

CONGRATS ELLIE YOU CUTE LITTLE ROSE, YOU DESERVE EVEN MORE YOUNG GRANDMA EHE👑🐇💗

I know my last request was bully stuff XD so I'll send you something to get back at me (that isn't a certain request YOU LITTE-)

Hmm...I don't have any ideas really, but....what about like fem s/o needing a good night sleep and either Riddle or Neige (you don't have to do both) helps them by singing a lullaby.

Idk, you don't even have to do it XD just giving you a chance to bully me with Roseblanc lmao

:))))

You force your eyes to snap open, groaning as your gaze lands back down on the essay written halfway through, shoulders tensing as you let a heavy sigh escape you. Just one more paragraph, you tell yourself, and then you can rest for the day, or, well, maybe start preparing for the short quiz later on this week—

The door to your room clicks open, and then shut, and you only realize someone has entered after it closes. Great Seven, you could really use some coffee right now.

“Wide awake?”

Oh, there's two people, actually.

A second passes, and then another, before you're whipping your head around with a yell close to leaving your lips, standing from your chair so abruptly it sways from side to side, almost falling to the floor. And thank God it doesn't, you didn't need the wrath of the students near your room all combined. Not tonight, or any other day, in fact.

“What are you two doing here?” you point a finger, darting between the two boys back and forth, tone borderline accusatory.

“You didn't hear us knocking?” Neige is the first to speak, and beside him Riddle crossed his arms, one brow raised and assessing your disheveled form.

“...No,” you say, voice so low it was almost a murmur, almost wincing when Riddle heaved a sigh.

“Mhmm, that's okay? Well, if you're okay with us here,” Neige starts, waving his hands and making gestures, smiling sheepishly. “It's pretty late, after all.”

You blink once, twice, thrice, until you slowly turn to the stacked papers on your desk, to the calendar filled with circled dates, courtesy of your red marker, and then back to Riddle and Neige.

“Um,” you fidget, resisting the urge to scratch the back of your head. “What time is it…?”

Riddle and Neige remain quiet, the both of them staring holes into you with varying levels of concern and exasperation.

“Alright,” Riddle exhales heavily, giving you a sharp look while one hand gestures to your bed. “I think it's time for you to rest.”

“What?” you splutter, all attempts to reason with both boys going to deaf ears as Neige takes that as his cue to guide you to bed.

When you're securely tucked in and they've made sure your windows were shut and locked, it takes a few more minutes before Riddle and Neige make a move to leave your room.

“Wait,” you call out to them, eyes drooping and voice sluggish, your hands making grabby gestures as you smile sleepily. “Stay a little longer?”

Riddle and Neige turn to look at each other, conversing through their eyes, without the need for words, and a second later they're by your side again, the both of them sitting at the edge of your bed.

You smile brighter when they do, and so their lips curve upwards in turn, and with a soft yawn escaping your lips, you ask a favor.

A small sputter of protest leaves Riddle, and Neige laughs, like tinkling bells, before he's nudging Riddle along, and with slight embarrassment, Riddle allows it.

Your eyes flutter closed to the gentle sound of a lullaby all over the room, a soothing melody that promises only good dreams and a well, satisfying rest.

When Riddle and Neige stand to leave, casting a final glance at your sleeping form, a relieved expression makes its way up their faces at the sight of your smile intact, even as you sleep.

#twst #twst writings #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #neige leblanche #riddle rosehearts x reader #neige leblanche x reader #fem reader #cutting the thorns

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mistabullets · 4 years

Text

Mon Lapin (Kinktober Day #2 - Dirty Talk)

Characters: Laurent Thierry x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Laurent demands you express what you want.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, afab reader, neutral pronouns, drunk sex, slight dubcon cause of alcohol involved but otherwise it’s consensual, dirty talk, teasing, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial

Note: Some more Great Pretender content cause we need some more of this idiot yet suave Frenchman. Also slight spoilers for Dorothy (she’s hinted and alluded to but never name dropped)

The heist had been a success.

Somehow, you pulled through it, playing your part beautifully. You celebrated with your fellow swindlers for a job well done and evenly distributed the stacks of greens amongst yourselves. Alcohol was served - as you downed your shots, more people vanished to return to their villas. You didn’t quite mind the lack of people; Laurent remained by your side to keep good company, nursing a glass of champagne but he was flustered from the buzz swimming through his head.

Laurent, albeit an enigma to you, certainly carried an aura of charisma. While you were new to the game of con artists and the conned, he had shown you the ropes in his own unique method of teaching. He was an excellent coach and a better swindling partner. While there had been times when you questioned what the hell was going through his head, you realized it was better to blindly trust him than to wonder the inner mechanisms of his mind. Eventually, it was just the two of you left at the resort - laughter echoing as he told you about his older days and his first missions.

“And that’s how we managed to get him - though, it was a close call. My English was a bit rusty at the time and I couldn’t pronounce the name of a certain city. But we pulled through,” he laughed, blue eyes twinkling as he reminisced the nostalgia.

“Now you’re a natural at this,” you commented, feeling reassured that while you were unusually nervous to play a big role in this heist, you had done well. It’s weird to think that once, Laurent was a rookie like you - that someone had mentored him. “I hope... my performance as a princess was good.”

“It was fantastic, mon lapin,” he praised, reaching your empty hand to emphasize his point. Your ears turned red - you weren’t the best at handling compliments like this, “If anything, I think you’ll probably outshine me one day.”

“I doubt that,” you said sheepishly, turning your head away from this gaze. He was too handsome to look at - tousled blonde locks and playful blue irises. His drunken blush didn’t help either.

“Mon lapin, you need more confidence in yourself,” with all inhibitions flew out the window, he reached for your chin and forced you to confront him - rather than his usual cunning smirk, he softly smiled at your adorable flushed cheeks. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it but there was something about your unbridled enthusiasm to learn and commit that made him quite fond of you. It reminded him of her. She would have taken quite a liking to you - always eager to please and coming apart under the slightest amount of praise when all eyes were on you. An idea hit him drinking in your demure visage. “Let me help you with that, my dear—“

“What do you mean, Lau—“ he hushed the question with a kiss. It was smooth and natural but being unfamiliar with this sort of affection, you froze. The Frenchman expected your unease - a long hand came to cup your cheek while the other rested in your shoulder to keep you grounded. Eventually, you settled in - even experimentally pressing your tongue against his lips, seeking permission. He hummed contently and indulged in the aftertaste of vodka lingering in your mouth. Your hand found purchase in his tropical shirt and tried to pull him in closer.

But he pulled away with a chuckle, taking in the glossy glisten of your eyes and your plush lips with red waxy smears from the corners of your mouth. “Eager to please, are we? J’aime ça.”

You didn’t respond, too caught up in what was taking place. A warm heat was spreading to your nether regions and Laurent noted how you shifted your thighs. Now he was curious. Seeing you positively react, he reached in again for another kiss but instead his hand went running up your thigh and you instinctually spread your legs to invite him closer.

“I knew it. You’re an eager slut, ready to please, aren’t you, mon lapin?” a devilish smirk curled his lips upwards - it made your heart hammered against your chest. Your words were stuck in your throat - he had caught you like the vulnerable rabbit trapped in between the sharp canines of a fox. He was the cat that got the cream. You shuddered when you sensed his fingertips dancing at your sides, ready to pounce.

“L-Laurent, please—“

“Hm, glad to see the cat didn’t get your tongue. But please what, mon lapin salope?”

“I— mmph—!” he pushed you down on the couch, assaulting your senses. His kiss was rougher, more sloppy - he bit at your lower lip so you could gasp and allow access to your mouth. He tongued you eagerly, all while lazily grinding his tented half-hard erection against your clothed heat. You moaned into his mouth, relishing in the taste of cigarettes and booze; your mind was growing fuzzy, unaware of the world surrounding you. Luckily for you and Laurent, everyone else had either left and found a room to crash in for the night. You wanted more of him. You whimpered when you left your lips, only to feel his hot breath tickle against your neck. He made a trail of kisses, occasionally deliberately teething, the skin blooming into a red-purple shade.

He stopped his incessant grinding, taking in the effects he had on you - swollen lips, blown-out pupils, matted locks against your forehead, and a couple of hickeys. You whined when he stopped, his teasing grin would have warranted a punch in the face. “You didn’t answer my question so I’ll help you out,” he jerked his hips against your clothed sex and you sighed, bucking your own hips to feel him again. However, his hands gripped them, holding you steady much to your dismay. “It’s clear what you want, mon cheri. I want the same. I want to fuck you. So don’t deny how eager you are to take my cock, you adorable slut.”

“L-Laurent— p-please, I want you—“

“Better, mon lapin. But why do you want me?”

“Y-You know...”

“Perhaps I do. But I want to hear it from your pretty slutty mouth, mon lapin.”

“B-But, Laurent, I—“ before you could articulate your words, the blonde dips one hand underneath the waistband of your pants. You choked on your words and moaned when his palm cups at your pantie clad sex, his long finger experimentally rubbing the slit.

“I can feel how wet you are. You’re particularly dripping, my dear Y/N...” being a bit impatient himself, his hand slipped underneath the fabric of your panties, his experienced hand easily finding the bundle of nerves hiding in its hood. With careful consideration, he rubs it, electricity jolting down your spine and a desperate moan leaving your lips. His free hand is already pulling down your leggings along with your panties and you help shimmy them off. Laurent spreads your legs further apart, admiring the pretty shade of your pussy and your swollen clit. Collecting more of your slick on his index finger, he presses it against your entrance and sinks it into the knuckle. You sigh in relief - he works his magic on you, immediately finding that one particular spot that has your toes curling.

With ease, he inserts another digit and begins to fuck your tight walls with only two of his fingers. You tense up, going with your instincts, and bucking against his hand. To put the icing on the cake, his thumb finds your swollen clit again, rubbing it in vigorous circles that has white stars flooding your vision. Laurent knows you’re about to cum, your core pulsating against his knowledgeable digits as he assaults your g-spot with a come here motion. However, before you can fall from your peak, he stops his ministration, cackling almost sinisterly when you let out a whine followed by a curse.

“Tell me, mon lapin salope, what do you want?”

“Fuck Laurent, please! You know already!” you cry out in frustration.

“I know what your beautiful body wants but again, I want to hear it from those pretty lips,” he coos, lapping up juices from his slender fingers.

“God, p-please...! J-Just do me already—“ you whine, your cheeks burning red, steam particularly coming out of your ears. You avert your gaze away, his wolfish grin too much to handle.

But he wasn’t going to have it. He reaches for your chin, his visage softening. It was too cute with how embarrassed you were but he understood he could be cruel. He gives you an encouraging kiss, “Look me in the eyes and say it with confidence, mon cheri.”

With an exasperated sigh, you throw out your dignity, finally giving in to the Frenchman’s scheme. You reach for his face, appreciating how he was being more lenient - yet a hint of a smirk remained, his eyes beaming with amusement. Chewing on your bottom lips, you stumble over some of your words but still carry on, desperate at this point. “L-Laurent, please... I-I... I want you to... f-fuck me with your cock! Please, I can’t handle this anymore—!”

Finally - your cute face was desperately worth it.

“I thought you would never ask~”

“B-But we can go to the bedroom?”

He chuckles, giving you another quick kiss before scooping you up, “Of course.”

#great pretender #great pretender x reader #laurent thierry #laurent thierry x reader #laurent x reader #not sfw #my writing #scenario #kinktober 2020

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