#y/n is a clown here read at your own risk

[strniohoeee]

Disregard

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and Chris hate each other with a burning passion, but when Y/N gets into an issue at a party, Chris is on his way to help.🫀

Warnings⚠️: Being dr*gged, mentions of almost being r worded, the r word is used one time. And yes that’s it’s. This for the request asking for an enemies to lovers where Chris saves her from almost being assaulted🗣️

Song for the imagine: Call Out My Name-The Weeknd

⚠️This story has mentions of hard topics. Read at your own risk⚠️

I hate Chris with a burning passion, and he hated me too. Originally I was friends with Nick, and then Matt, but for some reason Chris just didn’t like me. It started with scoffs, eye rolls, stank faces, blatantly ignoring me, and then slowly the comments started

He was such an asshole when he wanted to be. It made it so hard to be around him because I wanted to punch him in the face, yet he was so good looking that I wanted to kiss him also??? Man I don’t know he just made my life hard. He hated when Nick or Matt would invite me over he’d either completely ignore me, or we’d start bickering.

“What’s this fuck face doing here” he’d say

“Are you fucking 5” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Is that the only comeback you have?” He asked

“Well maybe if you didn’t act like a man child I’d have something else to say” I told him smiling at him

“You piss me off. Everytime I see your face I want to throw up” he said pretending to gag

“Exactly my point…a fucking child. Now go away the adults are talking” I said shooing him

And Nick and Matt’s mouth dropped

“Yeah yeah yeah whatever” he said walking away

That’s about how 90% of our interactions went. But as time went on I looked forward to our fights, and I’m sure he did too.

Tonight Nick had asked me if I wanted to join him and his brothers at a party, and of course I said yes, so I got ready and headed over to their house

Once I got there I allowed myself in, and locked the door behind me. I walked upstairs and went into the kitchen putting my stuff down, when Chris came upstairs from his room

“AHHH WHAT DID YOU DO WITH Y/N, and why is there a clown standing in my kitchen” he said pretending to be scared

“Christopher shut the fuck up” I told him as I put my phone down

“Ouuu government name….me likey” he said smirking at me

“You’re such a fucking creep” I said grabbing a water bottle

“What’s with uhh all the paint on the face this isn’t a circus” he said motioning to his face

“It’s called makeup….I wanted to look good for the party” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Right right….yeah you were looking very homeless recently” he said taking a Pepsi

“Let’s not get into who looks homeless now” I said scoffing

“I still get more bitches than you” he said shrugging his shoulders

I threw my now empty water bottle at him

“You’re a fucking weirdo loser” I told him as he laughed

“Heyyy Y/N when did you get here” Nick said coming down the stairs with Matt

“About five minutes ago, you idiot brother here wouldn’t stop yapping in my ear” I told them

“Hey! If you’re gonna talk outta your ass at least turn around so I can hear you better” He told me

“Yeah I’m sure you’d love to look at my ass” I told him sarcastically

“I meannnn are you offering?” He asked with his eyebrows raised

“You are literally a walking ick stay the fuck away from me” I said walking past him to head out the door

Matt had driven us to the party, Chris and I were in the back seat, and as he would rap every song he would point in my face and touch me. I would always smack his hand away or punch him to get him to stop, but he just didn’t

We had arrived at the party, and all slowly got separated. I was in the kitchen making a drink when a guy approached me

“Hey pretty lady” he said also making himself a drink

“Hi” I said giving him a tight lip smile

“Here alone?” He asked me pouring himself a henny coke

“Uh no I’m here with my friends” I told him making myself a Malibu Coke

“Oh nice nice, uhh boyfriend?” He asked me, and I was cringing at his lack of being able to form a sentence. At least when I argued with Chris it was for the most part full sentences

“If you’re asking if I have a boyfriend the answer is no” I told him while taking a sip of my drink.

The whole time we were chatting Chris had been watching me from the corner of the room.

Chris didn’t like the way the guy was staring at Y/N. It was like he was a predator and she was fresh meat, but Y/N was too sweet, and couldn’t see that. He kept glancing at her cup and that made Chris uncomfortable. But he wasn’t doing anything to be out right weird. But when he saw him with her he just wanted to scoop her up and take her away.

He wasn’t really sure why he felt this way. He actually wasn’t really sure how he felt about Y/N. He thought he hated her, but when he’d see her, his heart would skip a beat, and when they’d argue he’d fall more in love with her. But he hates her? He thinks?

Truly Chris was afraid of commitment. He was scared of the idea of someone loving him. It just wasn’t his things one night stands and small flings were his go to. But when he met Y/N it all started to change. He wanted to be with her forever. He even saw a future with her, and he stopped fooling around with other girls. But he was just so afraid of being hurt and committing to someone, that he chose to “hate” her instead. So that at least he’d know he’d always have her in his life.

“Hey it’s kind of hard to hear you” the boy said to me

“Yeah it kind of is, want to step outside?” I asked him

“Uhh maybe we could go upstairs” he said

“Mmmm i don’t know, i don’t really know you” I told him

“Oh come on! We can leave the door open I just want to talk” he said

“Mmm okay fine” I said, and we started to walk towards the stairs

Unbeknown to Y/N Chris was also following them like a shadow in the dark watching their every move. When they got to the stairs a guy had stopped them, and asked Y/N a question. Her drink was in her left hand, and she turned to her right. As soon as she did, the random guy dropped something into her drink. This made Chris’ heart drop, and he went to spring into action. After she answered the guy's question they went to walk up the steps, and the guy nodded his head at the other guy. Oh shit he was in on it Chris realized.

Chris was pushing through bodies calling out Y/N’s name, but she couldn’t hear him over the loud music and the tons of people in the way.

Chris was struggling with girls grabbing onto him trying to talk, and him trying to fight his way through the crowd. Sheer panic racing through his blood.

I had gotten upstairs, and there were tons of room, so we decided on the room all the way to the end. When we stepped in he left the door open.

I sat on the random bed and he sat across from me. I continued to drink my drink as it was almost done. When I Started to feel a little fuzzy. Man, how much Malibu did I put in this? I thought to myself

The guy was trying to talk to me, but I truly wasn’t feeling okay. I thought I was going to pass out or die?

“Hey I’m not feeling too well” I told the guy putting my cup down and going to stand up, but he stood up and sat me back down

“Don’t worry maybe the alcohol was too strong” he said

“No…no, something's not right,” I said slowly. He walked over to door and shut it locking it

“Hey what are you doing” I said fighting to keep my eyes open

“Shhh baby” he said and started to kiss on me

“Please no no stop this” I said starting to panic

“Be quiet baby” he told me pushing me backwards and starting to lift up my dress

“Please don’t. Please stop I won’t say anything just don’t please” I said crying

Chris had finally gotten up the stairs and started bursting through every door, while texting Nick and Matt what was happening, and telling them to come upstairs

Finally he had gotten to the last door, and it was locked, but he could hear her crying and pleading for someone to stop.

Chris started to bang against the door, slamming his body into it, and finally he kicked the door in and ran in. The sight he saw made his blood run cold

This disgusting pig with Y/N’s underwear half way down her legs, and her dress hiked up. While she just lay there pleading for him to stop in a very drugged way

“What the fuck are you doing” Chris screamed running over to the guy and punching him straight in the jaw. This caused the guy to get up and start fighting with Chris

Nick and Matt had run into the room seeing what Chris just saw. Matt ran over to Chris to try and help him, and Nick ran to Y/N to help her

“Shh it’s okay” Nick said helping Y/N back into her underwear and pulling her dress down

“Chris” she said weakly

“It’s Nick, but Chris stopped him okay. You don’t have to worry you’re safe” Nick said pulling the girl up and into his arms

At this point Matt and Chris had beat the guy to a pulp, and he just laid there bloody

“Don’t you ever put your hands on a fucking woman again you disgusting pig” Chris yelled at him while standing over him in a fit of rage

“Come guys, we have to go, the cops will be here” Nick said. Chris came over and took Y/N from his arms as they ran down the stairs and out the house, walking to Matt’s car.

“Am I dying” I asked them slurred

“No you’ve been roofied” Chris said to me holding me up

“He was touching me….he was going to rape me” I said sobbing and barely being able to stand up

“You’re safe now. We got you you’re okay” Matt said

“I’m dying” I said to them

“No you’re not baby, you have to throw this up” Chris said to me

“I don’t want to throw up” I said crying

“You have to come on” he said, he then stuck two fingers down my throat which made me gag and throw up everywhere

“I wanna go home” I said still crying and fighting for my life

“We’re going, we’re going” Nick said as they helped me into the car, and the whole car ride I cried into Chris’ arms.

When we got home I started to feel some of the effects wearing off, but I wasn’t 100% there.

Chris took me to his room so that he could watch me

“I need to get this man’s smell off of me, help me shower I can’t stand by myself” I said barely making sense

“Are you sure?” I asked her not wanting to make her uncomfortable

“Yes Chris please. I need you right now. You make me feel safe and warm. I love you” I told him

“I love you too” I told him

I went to the bathroom, and had Chris run a warm bubble bath for me. He helped me out of my clothes while also not really looking at me, and then he helped me into the tub.

I let my body fall into the bubbles immediately feeling relieved.

I just sat there staring blankly at the tub while Chris watched my face for any signs of discomfort

“Thank you for saving me” I told him, finally looking over at him.

“I will always be there for you, and I know you might not remember this tomorrow, but I love you. I was so scared of love before, but when I got to know you. It made me want to love, and love all of you. I have never been so sure about someone in my life as I am of you” he told me washing my back with a rag and letting the warm water fall down my head

“Chris I like you so much….I want to be with you forever” I told him smiling at him

“You don’t know what you’re saying” he said

“I do. I want you Chris all of you. I love to argue with you because it’s something that WE do. That is our thing, and it will alway be our thing” I said leaning me head on my arm

“I love to argue with you too. Makes me warm inside” he said washing my arm for me

“Join me” I said

“I can’t. Not under these circumstances” he told me breaking eye contact

“Please Chris. I want to be next to you. I need your embrace” I told him. Finally he agreed

He took his shirt off and then his pants, and I covered my eyes when he took off his underwear, and waited for him to get in the water opposite of me.

Once I felt the water move I opened my eyes

“Thank you Chris” I said looking at him

“Anything for you pretty girl” he told me

“Come here let me clean your makeup off” he said and pulled me in a little closer

Taking the rag, and wiping my makeup off my face

“You’re so beautiful” he told me as he cleaned my face

“You’re beautiful Chris” i told him which made him blush

“Kiss me” I told him him

“I can’t. Not tonight you’re not fully sober” he said back to me in a whisper

“Tomorrow morning” I told him

“If you remember this” he said back to me

“I will…I promise” I said

We finished bathing, and Chris got us dried and dressed in pajamas. He had snuggled me into his chest as I fell asleep, but Chris didn’t finally fall asleep till 5AM. He spent most of the night watching you and making sure you were okay.

You had woken up at 9AM, and Chris was still deep in slumber, so you decided to leave him and head upstairs to brush your teeth and wash your face.

Everyone was still asleep, so you decided to make some coffee and drink it while you sat outside by their pool.

You had texted Chris something for when he woke up.

30 minutes later Chris woke up. To you not by his side and for a second he panicked but then figured you were awake upstairs. He grabbed his phone and saw a message from you

The annoying one🙄

-kiss me?

It read, and he blushed slightly.

The End

Okayyy so I hope you enjoyed this one as well. It was pretty long, and for whoever requested this I really hope you enjoyed❤️❤️ I have about 6 more imagines to write 🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #Spotify

[long-life-to-bsd]

It's for your own good

Pairing: fyodor × reader

Warnings: fyodor, toxic and abusive relationship (we're talking about Fyodor so...), drugs

You could not describe how annoying he could be. He is one of the most intelligent men on hearth and yet, here he is, acting like a stubborn five years old. Why does he think he can hide everything from you? You always have to find out things thanks to the people that work with him.

That morning while you were peacefully reading, you were abruptly interrupted by one of his dearest collaborator: Nikolaj. Working with Fyodor and later having a relationship with him brought you closer to his collaborators, or wathever he thought they were.

"Do you want to know a secret, Y/N? Oh, I'm sure you want. Ask me, come on." He said while walking around you, with his typical smirk. "Of course Nikolaj, tell me. As if you wouldn't tell me anyway..." you replied, annoyed. You learned the hard way that ignoring Gogol was much worse. Most of the time he talked about the dumbest things on hearth, but sometimes having some patience could be very rewarding. He knew so much about Fyodor to the point sometimes you felt jealous.

" Do you want to know why Fyodor, your little dove, your sweet boyfriend, the love of your life, wasn't in your bed last night? Do you want know? He's sick, very very sick. Poor Fyodor..."

Jumping around he revealed to you why your boyfriend had being ignoring you all day. Of course he was sick. And obviously he thought he could hide it from you. Like always. You still weren't sure if he felt unbeatable or if he just never grew out "the doctor fear". But it wasn't only this. He never asked you for your help, he never told you when something is wrong. And you tried to understand all of this, but it hurted. Being always left out hurted.

"Poor Fyodor all alone, without his beloved." He cried out, having the time of his life, looking at your worried and annoyed face. Fyodor wasn't the healthiest man, even a fever was hard for him Especially because he never wanted to rest as you suggested. But he was also a grown up men and seeing him acting like a child was annoying. It wasn't difficult to read on your face you irritation.

"Oh, he was a very bad boy. Go and scold him, Y/N. Why don't you spank him like the child he his?" The clown continued with is rumbling. He found your relationship very amusing. He loved more than anything watching you and Fyodor fighting. He clapped his hands when you first slapped Fyodor, he cheared when Fyodor grabbed you by the shoulders and scolded you.

"Sure Nikolaj, if you want to see me dead. But really" you added whispering, leaving the room "He would deserve that."

Fyodor and you had already had some big fights about his health. He never thought about resting or taking a break. He could go for days without a proper meal. The only problem with fights was the fact that getting Fyodor angry isn't the smartest idea. Obviously you were right, he even admitted it, but the times you risked your life for this..

It happened more than one time that fights between you ended in a violent way. And sometimes while you felt his digits pressing around your neck, you saw in his eyes the desire to end everything. You know how dangerous his hands are: a touch can mean your death.

Before entering in his office you had to calm down a bit. You had to remind to yourself that your relationship is not a normal one.

"Fedya, someone told me you are not feeling to well." You sweetly said walking towards him. You gently kissed his forehead feeling him burning for the fever: oh, how bad you wanted to start screaming at him, ordering him to rest immediately.

"Dear, you're burning. Don't you think..." He abruptly interrupted you, harshly telling you he was fine, you didn't need to worry. "And now go away y/n, you know I hate when you interrupt me." He said to end the conversation.

He looked very pale, more than usual, and from the way he was squinting his eyes you could tell how tired he was. But asking him to rest would have just meant having you two fighting. But you were his girlfriend, not a common woman. You were with him for a reason. Probably a normal person would have never thought what you were thinking at the moment. And a normal person would have never been in a relationship with Fyodor for sure.

"Sure Fyodor, I know and I am sorry, but I was a bit worried. Would you mind if I bring you a tea? I know you wouldn't rest, but maybe it can help." You softly whispered in his ear, while gently massaging his shoulders. He liked when you were this gentle, but more than anything he liked when you did as you were told. "If you think a tea can help, fine. Even though I doubt it. But sure, if that can you make you happy..."

He was smart, and definitely, he was smarter than you. But this gave you a great advantage: he thought he could easily manipulate you. And yes, I was true, you found your self multiple times doing things you would have never done otherwise, but those other times, when you were able to understand his plan, outsmarting him was much easier. Because let's be honest: you were a manipulator too.

So no, he didn't suspect a thing while drinking his tea. He just thought that finally his girlfriend ha learnt not to fight him. He didn't even noticed you, standing in the back of the office. Only when his eyes started to get heavier, he realised that something was wrong. That his beloved, his darling, his love had just drugged him.

Getting closer, you carefully took the cup out of his weak heand and gently pushed him down on his chair. "Oh Fedya, don't make that face. It's for your own good. I did it because I love you and it's painful to see you in pain." You said with a soft smile, caressing his hair. "You understand, I love you, I was worried. It was the only way to have you resting, my love." But you couldn't do anything else but gasping when his hand firmly grabbed your wrist.

"You... I trusted you. I thought you could be smart enough not to do this... If when I wake up sometimes went wrong, you're dead. Dead. And you know I'm not kind with traitors. So you better start praying." His last words were nothing but whispers. And even if you barley heard them, you know he was saying the truth. But it was to late to regret your choice.

Using all you strength you took him to bed, took off some of his clothes and closed the curtains. He looked so normal while sleeping, and yet you were ready to bet that in his dreams he was plotting against the world. You wanted to seat next to him, but you knew better. All you did was leaving a soft kiss on his dry lips.

Walking towards his office, fear started to take over you. This wasn't like the other times. What you did was an actual betrayal. And what follows a betrayal is a big fight that ends with him slapping you while ordering you to get away from his sight. What follows a betrayal is an execution.

And sitting in front of the monitors, you started praying.

#bsd #bsd headcanons #fyodor headcanons #bsd fyodor #fyodor × reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

[mavrintarou]

[teaser] chapter 3 - Wipe Your Eyes

Read at your own risk - I'm hurting my own heart here too.

Y/n rolls onto her side as the doctor pulls her hospital gown to inspect the wound. “Looks a lot better than last time.” She pulls the gown back in place, helping Y/n in a sitting position. “Mind if I do some vital checks?”

“Sure,” Y/n answers, looking at the doctor who is looking at Kiyoomi.

“I’ll be outside.” He got the message, leaving the room.

As soon as the door clicked, the doctor exhaled deeply, “is he always that tensed?”

Y/n giggles softly, “no, I think he’s more nervous than me. One, there's a lot of germs here and two... his anxiety flies high because he is reminded how I was here for a few weeks.”

Y/n follows the doctor's light, to the left and then to the right. “Well, vitals look good. Now, you feel tired? How is everything at home?”

“Good, Kiyoomi has been carrying me for the most part throughout the apartment. I just got my wheelchair two weeks so… but he still insists on carrying me.”

The doctor gives her a weird look, “well, you might have yourself a keeper there.” She pressed her stethoscope against her chest, “breathe in and out for me please.”

“There is… one thing I like to ask you after you're done.” Y/n whispered as she tried to continue to breath in and out as normally as possible.

She takes her stethoscope off, hanging it around her neck. “What’s up?”

Her fingers fumble and Y/n inhales sharply before whispering, “can I take a pregnancy test?”

@callmeraider @amarinthe @chaotic-fangirl-blog @eadyladlegard @wolffmaiden @idiotic-clown @jojowantstocry @erintaro @imnotjo @jojowantstocry

#haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa angst #sakusa fluff #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #haikyu x reader #Wipe Your Eyes

[wakeenkitten]

Hey guys! It took sooo much time but it’s finally there! This is a very dirty fic with a lot of curse so read at your own risk.

⚠️⚠️⚠️: SMUT;DADDY/CLOWN KINK; CURSE

Carnival x Reader

Y/N was always so nice to him, it was already making 6 years that she was living in the appartement next to his. The same corridor, the same line and he never dared to ask her to dinner with him. He didn’t know a lot about her but she was always so nice and she was never looking at him like a weirdo, he could feel it. And she was so beautiful, a beauty like her, you could only meet them 2 or 3 times in a life.

And he was just a stupid clown, nobody wants to date a clown!

But he liked his job even though it wasn’t what he dreamed of, he was energetic in his work.

There he was, jumping and dancing and moving the « everything must go » sign. He didn’t saw them arrive. Suddenly somebody hit the sign, stole it and ran. It was a group of three young people who just wanted to act like thugs. Noooo, he couldn’t afford to lose this job! He started to run after them, which was pretty hard with the long clown shoes.

« Stop them! Stop them! »

Nobody seamed to care, but he was used to it. He ran as fast as he could but lost them in sight. Breathing hard, he turned into a little street. A sudden smash arrived on his face. He fell to the ground next to what stayed of the destroyed sign. He struggled opening his eyes, and he felt the beatings arriving. He just stayed like that, waiting for it to stop. They were kicking his stomach, his legs. He was putting his hands on his dick to protect something sensitive, but he kept on moving his face to don’t get hit on the head who was dizzy enough.

Somebody screamed something like « Hey! » and the thugs looked behind them and ran away. Arthur heard fast footsteps coming to him. He opened his eyes and he sweared that it only could have been an angel. She was there, the girl that he was thinking about night and day. Y/N tilted her head and asked him with a worried face: « are you okay? »

Everything was more than okay now. « Can you move? », he didn’t answered, he was just staring at her with fascination.

She checked his whole body but it was hard to see any bruises or even broken bones with this clown costume. « Maybe you should come with me ». She looked at him, she hadn’t noticed his eyes before, beautiful and flamboyant green eyes who seemed to be so dark right now. His fixed sight made her blush. Oh my god, he made her blush! He wasn’t dreaming, the pain was real, but he totally forgot it because she was here. She looked at him from head to toes and something had seemed to light up inside of her. « Come with me, I can’t leave you on the ground like that ». She was beautiful, nice, and he knew that she was also very smart but now he just discovered that she was the purest soul that he ever met.

Arthur started to move and he got up.  « What’s your name? »

He was going to say it, but he remembered that maybe she was going to run away, realizing that he was Arthur her sad neighbor.

« Um…Carnival. »

« Oh i see, that’s original! » she was giving him a certain fire in her sight. He followed her to her apartment, which he perfectly knew the location.

So, she didn’t recognized him, he was going to enter into her privacy… All these nights he was thinking about her, he even had stole one of her panties that she had forgot at the downstairs laundry once.

She unlocked the door and let him in. « Go, please ». She was so adorable, he just wanted to kiss her…everywhere. He tried to walk well but the pain was still there, he needed to sit. « Go sit on the couch I come back! ». He went to the couch and winced while sitting, they had hit his ass too, bastards.

He waited around twenty minutes but he still waited, her sweet home was so cute, a lot of pictures on the fridge, plants, her bedroom’s door was open and he was able to see some plushies on her bed. One of the big plushies was a kawaii clown, how funny! He took off his stupid wig, how stupid he felt with that. She came back with a first aid kit and she went to the fridge grabbing packs of ice, she was wearing a bathrobe now, why?

« I’m sorry I hope that you didn’t wait too long » she looked like she putted on a little bit of makeup, not too much but enough to pulp her gorgeous lips and darken the lashes of her beautiful eyes. She untied her long shiny hair, she looked so natural and… sensual, sexy. Like a nature goddess. « Umm yeah umm I mean no! Don’t worry » he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She found his shy, tender side so sweet, every time that she caught him staring at her he just immediately looked away, embarrassed. But this clown makeup was so hot, she was getting so wet, this bathrobe was hiding a lot.

He didn’t know it but that clown plushie was there for a reason, rubbing her throbbing pussy against it every night, thinking bout a sexy mysterious clown who could make her feel elated.

She was wearing perfume he could smell it, why did she got all pretty? Why with him? It could not be for him. Maybe another guy was going to come over after that. She was just a kind soul who wanted to help a guy in distress, she wasn’t attracted to him.

She gave him multiple packs of ice for his body, and she started to clean the only bleeding cut on his face. If he could have a hundreds of little cuts, her face was so close to his. « I Hope it doesn’t hurt »

« Not at all » it must have been the first words that he told her since the last 30 minutes. «  I think it’ll be okay » she said, stopping her sweet attention. She pitted the pad away and suddenly stared into his eyes. She looked out of breath. Why was she staring at him like that? « You have very beautiful eyes you know? That is the first thing I’ve noticed in you » she said while blushing. Woaw was she hitting on him? « And…I love your makeup! » a little giggle escaped her lips. Fuck, he was starting to get hard by her giving him that look and biting her bottom lip. She noticed his growing member that he was trying to hide, but at the moment he moved to hide it she noticed it. She suddenly looked like she gasped. She moved her hand to his thigh. « Do I make uncomfortable, honey? » he was feeling the sweat on his forehead. « N-no don’t worry ».

« Oh my goood » she said almost in a moan. She was untying her bathrobe’s string. « You know what I was doing in the bathroom this whole time, clown daddy? » she revealed her beautiful body covered by lace lingerie on so little areas. « N-no »

« I was giving myself pleasure, imagining your hand instead fingering my pussy ». « Fuck » that’s it, he lost it, he spread his legs because his cock was stifling in there. « You want me to take care of you? » the look in her eyes was for him, her dirty talks were for him, all this was for him. He suddenly felt like the king of the world, the king of clowns, and felt confidence grow in him. « Yeah sweetheart, do it » the look in his eyes was savage now. She looked like a stunning lacy slut. The fact that he was into it was drove her wild. « Ooooh okay ». She answered with a big grin. She unzipped his pants and took out his large massive cock. Fuck! He was so skinny but that circus stick was way far from skinny. His heartbeat was visible in his veins and a big drop of precum was holding strongly on his head. She opened her mouth, letting her pink tongue come out, licking the sugar drop away. « Oooh yes baby, go on, take me in your mouth ». She started to suck his head witch was already hard to fit in her mouth. She licked the sides of his throbbing member, and tried to take him the deepest she could in her mouth, tears pricking on the corner of her eyes. His grunts and the dirty wet noises were filling the room. Her pussy was sticking to her panties. « Oooh babygirl wait, I want to fuck you » she took him out of her throat, « oh yes clown daddy, pleeease » she said, pounting. « Get up and take these off » she did as he said. « Good now sit here » he said while pointing the side of the couch. She sat there, and he spread her legs. « Oh my god, look at that » he whispered to himself. « You’re fucking wet for me baby aren’t you? » she was so horny she really needed him now, she didn’t let herself cum in the bathroom, she wanted to try him first. « Oh yes clown daddy I am ». He ran his long finger on her swollen slit. And then… he penetrated her with it, god how tight she was! « Ooooh daddyyyyy » her face expression was the must of pleasure. He fingered fucked her for a while and then he curled it. « Mmmhm my god! Daddy! Fuuuuck ».

Her moans were crazy, he was himself moaning loud just for the sight of that gorgeous pink kitty so soaked for him. « Please! I need you now! ».

Hé took out his finger and pulled down his pants. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him on the cough. She got up and sat on top of him. « Mmmhmm clown Daddy » she gave him the dirtiest look that he has seen so far while licking her lips. « Fuck, Cmon baby ride it for clown daddy ». She rubbed her slit against his length, the tip of his cock was feeling her wetness and it suddenly rubbed against her clit which drove her crazier. Y/N grabbed his cock and slowly slit it inside of her. « Ooooooh my goood, you’re so big! » she said while her eyes were going into her skull and her mouth was agape. « God baby you’re so tight, you feel so good! You’re a fucking slut, a fucking slut for daddy right? ». He started to move fast, filling her up. « Ooooh yeeeesss » she wasn’t going to last long, she already had to stop herself in the bathroom. « Daddy I’m gonna cummm » the noises in this room were so dirty, her moans, his, and the sound of his fat cock driving into her on a fast pace. « Don’t cum yet kitten, daddy almost there too ». It must be the best day of his life, his stamina was so good, and he was fucking the girl that he loves, one thing is sad is that maybe she only was interested into him because of her clown kink and not really…into him. « Cmon kitten who’s your clown daddy? ».

« Oh fuck you are, oh my god your cock so biiiig clown daddy !». Her baby pouting face turned him on, she was tightening around him, it was getting hard to push his massive dick into her small hole. « Daddyyyy, I can’t contain myself I’m gonna cuuuuum, rub my clit it’s gonna be so intense! ». He did as she asked, doing circle on her little rosebud. « Oooooh fffffuuck, i touch myself thinking about you every night clown daddy! ». He was battering into her like a mad man now. She was jumping on his cock, riding him like a cowgirl, her hips moving like crazy. And she suddenly came around him, screaming like the bitch in heat that she is. Arthur stopped to thrust and waited for her spasms to calm, she was out of breath and she collapsed on his chest, giving it sticky kisses. He slid out off her, still hard dick aching. She lifted herself on her knees. « Cmon here baby, let me cum on that angel face ». She opened her mouth and slid her tongue out, ready to receive his seed giving him a great submissive look. He was stroking his clown stick fast and he shot his white juices on her face and boobs in a grunt.

He was totally naked now, he just had the clown makeup on him, he had taken off the rest of his clothes but he didn’t remembered when. He took her in his arms on the couch and they stayed like that for a while. When he saw that she was slowly falling asleep, he got up and dressed up. He was silently making his way to the door when heard: « you were great Arthur, come back to me when you want clown daddy ». So she knew… he suddenly felt so shy again. He just waved a little goodbye and left.

Arrived behind the door, he sighed, elated.

She knew after all, that was very special but sooo amazing. Maybe he could go visit her sometimes as a clown if she likes clowns. Clown daddy… That’s what he wanted to be now… a clown.

#joaquin phoenix x reader #carnival x reader #joaquin+phoenix+smut #joaquin phoenix joker

[neocityarchive]

blind love | l.m.k.

— in which mark lee is so much more than just your best friend but you were too blind to realize it.

word count: 7.2k | warnings: light swearing | blind love - lola young |

a/n: i didnt mean for it to be this long but i hope you enjoy!!!

“Just friends,” Mark said, his voice still steady even in the growing tension of the moment. “That’s all you said we are, right?”

Your head dropped down to look at your hands, not knowing what to say. The overbearing guilt of rejecting his sudden confession was crushing your chest that it became painful to breathe.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” was all you could say. You forced yourself to meet his gaze through your already glassy eyes, wanting to let him know the sincerity of your words.

He smiled kindly, shaking his head. There was sadness in his eyes. And in all the years you two have known each other, you could tell how hard he was trying to hide it. “It’s okay. That’s all we’ll be.”

You bumped your head repeatedly against your study table in an attempt to rid yourself of the memory that’s constantly been playing in your head. 

It was a Sunday which meant there were no classes, which meant the university was closed, which meant that you couldn’t even make an excuse to see your best friend Mark who somehow, after almost three years of friendship, suddenly decided that it was a good idea to tell you he loves you more than a friend should love a friend.

You couldn’t say it happened out of nowhere. He’s been saying he has something important to tell you for almost two weeks before the incident but every time you confront him about it, he always makes up some lame excuse to dodge. It took a lot of self-hate for yourself and a nice amount of his protective instinct to finally make him spit it out. 

He came to your apartment that night, finding you barefaced, wearing a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies that you stole some time ago. From that he already knew you weren’t okay. You like wearing his stuff to seek some sort of comfort. Somehow, the smell of his clothes helps calm you down.

You were supposed to help him finish a report but you couldn’t concentrate after getting a below satisfactory grade on a major exam. College has done nothing but give you a shitload of insecurities lately and this just pushed you off the edge. The only thing that has been keeping you sane was the knowledge that you had someone who you can run to at the end of the day. Someone who is willing to listen to your rants and would do almost anything to cheer you up.

That day, however, none of Mark’s usual encouragement worked on you. He was getting frustrated hearing you downplay yourself because of a single exam. You started going on about how stupid you felt, how staying up all night to study did nothing but make you ugly. Mark countered every insult you threw at yourself, throwing in a few jokes here and there, all of which you ignored. But when you went on about how all of this made you unworthy of anything, how no one could possibly love you in this state, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I love you,” he snapped, cutting you off from your long self-deprecating speech. 

“You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to say that,” you whined, clearly missing the point.

Mark, on the other hand, was barely holding it all inside. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “No, idiot. I love you. Stop saying no one could love you, because I do. And not just because you’re my best friend.”

It wasn’t until you noticed his hands were quivering that you realized what he really meant. Looking back on it, you couldn’t help but hate yourself. You were sure it took a lot of his courage (and frustration) to come clean to you like that, and you couldn’t even take him seriously at first.

“Mark, no,” you remember telling him.

“I do. I hate that I do, but I do.” He looked away. “I love you and I know you’re feeling burdened right now, but you don’t have to say it back.”

A part of you broke that day. You hated rejecting people after having gone through several rejections yourself. It’s the worst feeling. You always wished there was a way you could always return people’s feelings just so no one would get hurt, but the universe just doesn’t work that way.

You muttered about a hundred sorries to which Mark replied a hundred ‘it’s okay’s. Maybe it was meant to make you feel better, but it just felt like your heart was getting ripped off your chest.

Mark didn’t stay long after that. You didn’t even get to help him with his report. He said sorry for suddenly dropping the L-word and you said sorry for not being able to say it back. He smiled sadly and it took your everything not to cry. He asked if he could hug you and you didn’t even answer. You just went straight into his arms, burying your head in his chest like you’ve done so many times before, breathing heavily to keep yourself from breaking down. And when the two of you pulled away, he insisted on being alone for a while. You said okay followed by another sorry.

You didn’t know “being alone for a while” meant ignoring you for god knows how long. You see him at uni but he wouldn’t even meet your eye. Even when you share the same class, he would choose to sit as far from you as possible. Once, he entered a cafe you were in and upon seeing you inside, he immediately turned around and walked away.

He’s ignoring you and he isn’t even being subtle about it. Mark Lee could never be subtle about anything, not even his feelings. You really were just too blind to realize anything.

Even other people saw how he felt. People used to come up to you all the time and ask about your “boyfriend” Mark. Sure, you would blush, shy that people thought you’re in a relationship with your best friend. When you explain that you weren’t actually dating, you would get the same shocked reaction every time. One of your friends even said you acted more like a couple than most people in a relationship do. You always thought it was just because you and Mark were such good friends.

“Friends don’t hold hands in public,” you remember Renjun saying.

“We don’t hold hands. He just grabs me and drags me to places,” you said defensively.

“And they don’t hug each other and stare at each other’s eyes while talking about pizza,” Jaemin scoffed.

You just rolled your eyes at them. It never crossed your mind that maybe they were right. You and Mark have never acted like how friends should. Maybe it’s the reason why you’re in this mess after all.

You sighed to yourself. You miss him. You can’t even pretend that you don’t. He’s become such a huge part of your everyday life that you couldn’t just ignore the sudden empty space he left when he said he wanted to be alone. You know he needed time to be by himself. But a part of you keeps holding on to his promise that even after his confession, you two would still be friends. And friends text each other, right? So all your attempts at communication depended on just that.

Thursday, 5:31 PM

You: wanna go watch a movie? i’ll buy the tickets.

Mark: cant. i have an exam tomorrow. sorry :/ maybe next time?

You: oh. okay. goodluck on your exam :)

Friday, 2:21 AM

You: [photo] this is possibly the cutest cat photo i’ve seen in awhile

Mark: that’s cute but dogs are still cuter

You: … okay?

Mark: go to sleep, y/n

Friday, 12:03 PM

You: i know you dont have class rn. have lunch w me?

Mark: oh i already ate with jaemin. sorry!!

You: it’s okayyyy :>> i’ll see u later? it’s friday night sooo we can hang out.

Mark: idk the boys already asked me to go out tonight

You: oh okay have fun!

Saturday, 6:54 PM

You: maaaark

Mark: y/nnn

You: [types] i miss you kajdhfhdksjdh [deletes]

You: nothing haha wanna grab some coffee?

Saturday, 7:01 PM

You: nvm haha have a nice nighhhttt

Sunday, 10:21 PM

You: hey can we talk

Mark: ???

You: please?

Mark: ye what about?

You: you said we’d still be friends

Mark: lol aren’t we?

You: this isn’t how friends talk to each other. i miss having an actual conversation with you.

You: we dont even see each other anymore.

Mark: i literally reply more to u than i do to jaem wdym haha

You: wow fine okay

Mark: ?????

You: i guess i deserve that haha

Mark: im tired y/n. night.

You: :( nighttt

You checked your messages for the nth time, reading everything as if something was gonna miraculously change with the cold conversation thread. Your fingers have been hovering over the keypad, typing and deleting ‘i miss you’ and ‘talk to me’ for about a hundred times already.

You don’t get why you can’t just say it. What’s so wrong with telling your best friend you miss him? Why is it so hard to press send? Why are you suddenly so afraid of how he would reply or if he would even reply at all?

It was only 10:30 in the evening. You know for sure Mark is only lying about going to sleep. He never sleeps this early unless he really is tired. He does nothing on Sundays so he can’t possibly be tired. Sundays are usually just the two of you hanging out in his apartment or yours, just to watch movies or study together. So what did he do today?

“Stop thinking about him,” you grumbled to yourself. “It’s just Mark. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

But that’s not the point, a voice inside your head said. Just tell him you miss him.

You typed it again, ‘I miss you,’ but deleted it as soon as it was finished. Again. 

You’ve spent everyday with Mark that it suddenly hurts to think he’s enjoying the time you usually spend together alone. It’s crazy how you can’t stop thinking about how his day went or if he’s okay or whether he’s eaten or not. You know how stubborn he can be. Sometimes, he’d get so engulfed in whatever he’s doing that he would accidentally skip meals unless you remind him otherwise. 

“Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself. You figured you won’t ever be left at peace if you don’t do anything about whatever you’re feeling, so you decided to text Jaemin.

Sunday, 10:52 PM

You: jaeeem hi :)

Jaemin: y/n!!!!! hello :>

You: sorry for bothering you but have you talked to mark lately?

Jaemin: im talking to him rn haha why? you want me to ask him something?

You: not really hahaha how is he?

Jaemin: haha why not ask him yourself

You: he doesnt wanna talk to me lol pls just answer

Jaemin: he’s stubborn as always. he wont listen to me.

You: why, what’s he doing?

Jaemin: idk but it’s definitely not talking to you ksjdjkd

You: … very funny

Jaemin: sorry lmaooo he’s running on an hour or two of sleep everyday

You: jaemin!! why won’t you scold him?

Jaemin: we do! he just doesn’t listen. u know he only listens to you.

Jaemin: idk why you guys still arent together lmao bunch of idiots tbh

You: we’re just friends

Jaemin: rlly? oh btw mark hyung is looking for his save the bees shirt. did u see it anywhere?

You: yeah he left it here like two weeks ago when he slept over

Jaemin: LMAOOO DOESNT SOUND LIKE FRIENDS TO ME CHIEF

You: i fckingskjfhfn hate you

Jaemin: HJSJSHHDJD ok but seriously tho mark hyung is fine. just give him time, he’ll come around.

Jaemin: he misses you but u didnt hear it from me

Jaemin: ok bye he’s getting suspicious now lol

You: idk how you’re both an angel and the devil at the same time

You: anw thanks jaem. dont tell him i asked about him lol byeee

You sighed, putting your phone down in surrender. Your mind was more of a mess now than it was before you talked to Jaemin. You hate that he makes sense especially about the weird, more-than-friendly dynamics of your relationship with Mark. But more importantly, your head was beginning to be overfilled with worry.

Mark runs on barely two hours of sleep everyday. No wonder he always looks so out of it whenever you see him in the hallway. You wanted to call him, to tell him that he should sleep already, to remind him that he shouldn’t overwork himself, that doing just enough is okay. But you know he doesn’t want to talk to you. The cold replies and the ‘????’ were more than enough to tell you that.

Still, you figured it was worth a try sending him a little reminder. So you grabbed your phone once again and typed a message, revealing a little more of your emotions than you intended to. And before you could even think twice about it, you hit send.

Sunday, 11:04 PM

You: hey i know you’re still not asleep. dont worry, you dont have to reply to me. i just wanna tell you that you should take care of yourself. i know you. you’re stubborn and sometimes you won’t sleep or eat unless someone reminds you to so,, this is me reminding you haha. stop overworking yourself mark, please? you cant be sick cause i cant take care of you since you wont talk to me… lol jk. but seriously, get more rest (and talk to me,, hahah jk again unless u wanna ;)) please go to sleep now. goodnight. see you around i guess.

You stopped texting Mark after that. You wondered if he would find the initiative to talk to you first if you didn’t start the conversation. Now, two days have passed and your sleep reminder remains to be the last message on your conversation thread. You couldn’t say it didn’t hurt. You were hoping for at least a small thanks but didn’t get anything at all.

You were starting to get more and more frustrated as the days went by. It’s so unfair that you are slowly losing your best friend because of this. It’s unfair that you can’t even be mad at him because you just broke his heart. You wished there was any way you could have changed what happened, but the past remains to be written.

That afternoon, you passed by one of the cafes you and Mark always go to. You went inside, suddenly craving their special banana muffin which he introduced to you some months ago. The owner recognized you right away as you came up to the cashier.

“You’re not with your boyfriend today?” she asked.

You felt your heart skip a beat and not in a good way. It hurt. You figured there was no use in explaining since she probably won’t believe that Mark is not your boyfriend so you just smiled sadly and answered, “No.”

The lady somehow talked you into buying two muffins so you can bring one to your “boyfriend.” After handing her your payment, you realized maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Mark always brings you stuff whenever you’re mad or upset. He knows exactly what you’re craving for even before you knew you were craving for it. Why not try if it works on him?

As soon as you headed out the cafe, you whipped your phone out to text Jaemin, asking if he knew where Mark was. It’s Tuesday, his most free day of the week so he could be anywhere. Jaemin replied not after five minutes.

Jaemin: not sure but he mentioned something about the library??

You: okay thank you!

From that, you knew exactly where Mark is. There was a small patio-like spot beside the library that he likes going to. Not a lot of people utilize the place since the tables and chairs are almost always filled with dried fallen leaves from the surrounding trees but Mark likes the thought of being close to nature.

That day though, there were more people around the area than usual. It was lunchtime so most people were out of the classrooms. Still, it wasn’t hard spotting Mark. It has never been much of a challenge finding him in a crowd of people. You saw him as soon as he came into view, sitting by the table on the corner under one of the ginkgo trees. He had his laptop open and a box of food beside it. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration one moment and then he was laughing the next. 

You were about to make your way towards him but immediately stopped in your tracks when you realized he wasn’t alone.

You didn’t know who the girl was. You’ve seen her a lot of times in class and in the hallway. You even have a vague memory of Mark talking to her one time. But you never really bothered to learn her name. She had that soft, innocent look that goes so well with her shy smile. She had her hair tucked in her ears to show just enough of her pretty face. She was beautiful. Unconventionally but undeniably. But none of that mattered.

When she said something with a smirk and Mark let out his trademark laugh, nose scrunching, hand repeatedly hitting the table, shoulders shaking and all, it felt like something punched you in the stomach. He uttered something in reply and now both of them are clutching their sides for laughing too hard. 

He looks happy, you thought, I should be, too.

But you aren’t. You continued watching their exchange, him showing her something on his laptop and both of them laughing once again. Your chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it and now it hurts to breathe. You didn’t realize you’ve been clutching the plastic bag containing the muffin too hard until you felt the sting of nails digging on your palms. You knew you should look away but you couldn’t. You wanted to run towards him. You wanted to tell the girl to scooch over so you can sit beside Mark and give him his muffin.

This is pathetic. I should be happy for him, you said to yourself. But why am I not?

You wanted to be angry, to scream and say that it should be you he’s laughing like that with. To say that it’s you he should be spending his time with. You wanted to ask if he still feels the way he said he does about you. And if he does, then why this? But you remained glued to the ground.

You hated how you were being selfish. You rejected him, remember? So why do you expect him to follow your tails like an intoxicated mad dog? Why can’t you be happy at the possibility that he found someone that feels the same way he does? Why does it… hurt? It’s not supposed to. If you really are friends, then him being happy with someone after your rejection should make you happy as well. If you really are friends, then you shouldn’t be standing here looking stupid, watching them from afar, wishing he’s with you instead.

“What are you looking at?”

You jumped at the sudden disruption, almost dropping your muffins. “What the hell, Jaemin?!” you whined, finally looking away from Mark.

“Mark hyung and Mina?” he snorted.

So that’s her name. “No,” you lied, forcing yourself to take a step away, then another, then another.

“Are you jealous?” Jaemin teased. “Have you finally realized you’re also whipped for our hyung?”

“No,” you grumbled.

“Then why are you almost crying?” 

You blinked. You didn’t even realize the tears pooling in your eyes. Why are you being like this? “Shut up. I’m not.”

Jaemin only shrugged. “Fine. Torture yourself, then.” He smirked. “By the way, Jeno and I are inviting people to our place this Friday after exams. Just some drinks and maybe karaoke, I don’t know. We all deserve a break from hell. Wanna come?”

You didn’t reply. Your mind was too preoccupied with other things.

“Mark hyung is coming,” he said. “Maybe Mina too.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you said immediately, suddenly coming up with a decision.

The boy laughed. “You are jealous! God, I love it when you prove yourself wrong. You shouldn’t be though. You already know he likes you.”

“I’m not jealous! Stop it,” you whined, really wanting to cry this time. Everything is so frustrating and Jaemin is not being of any help. You wanted to go home and just wrap yourself in your blanket and maybe one of Mark’s hoodies.

“Then come to our place this Friday. It’s gonna be fun.” He grinned.

“Fine. Whatever. Just get away from me, you little shit,” you said, kicking him lightly in the butt.

You didn’t know if it was a lie or not but if Mark really is seeing someone now, you just didn’t like the idea of seeing them flirt with each other in front of your eyes. Even the thought of it makes you want to pull all your hair out. Is that considered jealousy? If so, why are you feeling it for someone who’s supposed to be just a friend?

Thursday came and you found yourself crying after realizing the shirt you’ve been wearing the whole day was Mark’s. No wonder he looked surprised seeing you in the hallway. He looked away immediately though, acting as if you weren’t there. It didn’t even cross your mind since you use this shirt quite a lot.

After calming yourself down, you put your playlist on shuffle and cried some more after Friends by Ed Sheeran started playing. You didn’t even realize how fitting the song was for your situation until now. Mark probably did.

You remembered him singing that song once. The two of you were just lounging in his apartment. He was playing his guitar while you pretended to study when in reality you were just looking at him. You watched as his fingers plucked and strummed the guitar strings while he softly mumbled lyrics, head bobbing to the tune. He’s good. Unsurprisingly, since he’s good at everything.

When he realized you were staring at him, he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes, one side of his lips curling up into a smirk. “No, my friends won’t love me like you do,” he sang. 

You looked away, your cheeks heating up almost immediately. It was hard to focus on your readings when he’s sitting right in front of you looking like that, singing like that. You sighed. He truly was never being subtle about how he felt.

After finishing the song, Mark put his guitar down and laid his head on your lap, not even bothering to ask if it’s okay. That’s how comfortable you were with each other.

“What are you doing?” You remember whining.

“Wake me up after 15 minutes,” he said, already closing his eyes. You took a photo of him that night. He’s cute when he’s asleep. Even cuter when you look at him up close. 

Of course, you just had to search your camera roll to find the photo. When you did, it felt as if a storm was raging on your stomach and a gorilla was pounding on your chest. It never dawned to you just how much it hurts that he suddenly left you alone until that moment.

“Goddamn, I miss you so much,” you muttered, looking at his peaceful expression in the photo.

And then you cried some more. You feel lost.

All you wanted to do was curl up in his arms and inhale his scent and listen to how his day went (and maybe accidentally fall asleep together). It sucks because you really had no one else to turn to. The single person who has always been your safe place doesn’t want to talk to you and even if he did, you really wouldn’t know what to say. Perhaps friends really aren’t like that. The thought of everyone being right when they said that maybe you and Mark were never really just friends has never been stronger than it was tonight.

Still, you couldn’t be bothered to sort your feelings out.

He feels like home, you thought. It was the best way to explain the sense of comfort and safety and the feeling of being more than enough that he provides you. It’s the only thing you can think of when your mind drifts to how he is always the constant person that you run to at the end of the day. But friends can feel like home, too, right?

Not to this extent. Not really.

Friday. You found yourself aimlessly roaming around the neighborhood after your classes in the hopes of distracting yourself from your feelings or whatever the hell they’re supposed to be called. You wouldn’t have remembered Jaemin’s party if you didn’t happen to pass by their apartment building.

You stood in front of it for two solid minutes, contemplating whether to go or not.

Mark might be there, you thought. With everything that’s going on in your head and with all the mess happening in your chest, would it really be a good idea to see him? You thought maybe all these things you’re feeling are just a result of missing him. All these sadness and confusion might just be because you miss your best friend.

So you entered the building. You told yourself that you’ll try talking to him again this time, no matter how stubborn he’s going to be. And if it still doesn’t change anything, then you will take it as a sign to let him go. If not forever, then at least for now.

You reached the door to Jaemin and Jeno’s apartment. Even from the outside, the sound of the bass can already be heard. You wondered how long before the neighbors would file a complaint against them, but knowing Jaemin and Jeno, their neighbors are probably inside, partying with them right now.

Before entering, you looked down on your chest just to make sure you were wearing your own shirt and not Mark’s. It didn’t feel right wearing his stuff anymore. God, it really felt like you just broke up. Why is it like this?

You took a deep breath and opened the door. There were already a lot of people inside even if it was just 8 in the evening. Most of them, you know the faces of. You smiled to greet some and muttered a hi to others.

Renjun spotted you as soon as you came into the living room. “Y/N!” He grinned, handing you a cup of god knows what. “Jaemin said he invited you but we were all pretty sure you were gonna ghost us. But you didn’t!”

You laughed hesitantly. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Drink up. It’s a cocktail I made myself,” he said proudly, almost forcing the cup into your mouth.

You took a sip, figuring it won’t do any harm but you spat the liquid back to the cup as soon as it touched your tongue. “What the hell did you put in this?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just mixed in everything I could find. Thanks for trying it out though. I’ve been looking for a volunteer for five minutes already.”

You frowned. There were a lot of things you were unsure of at the moment but there is one thing that’s certain: you have weird friends. You were about to complain to Renjun when he plucked the cup from your grip and went on to find another victim, not even bothering to listen when you said you literally spat on the cup.

Mark didn’t seem to be anywhere. The apartment wasn’t that big so if he was here, it would be easy to spot him. Maybe he decided not to show up after knowing you were coming. And honestly, part of you was relieved. As much as you wanted to talk to him, you still didn’t know what to say. 

I’m sorry I broke your heart, but I miss you so much and I did a lot of thinking and maybe we really shouldn’t be labeled as just friends but I don’t know if I love you, is that okay? That’s just stupid. This whole thing is stupid.

You wanted to leave. Parties have never really been your thing. You usually just go because Mark asked you to since he loves interacting with people. But you figured you needed some alcohol in your system, mainly as a distraction, but also to give you a boost of courage just in case. So you made your way to the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with anyone as much as possible.

You stopped in your tracks as you came to the kitchen. The sound of that laugh was all too familiar.

Great, you thought. Mark was there. And Mina was too. But so were Jeno and Jaemin who exchanged looks as soon as their eyes landed on you. They were all laughing about something before you came.

“You’re here!” Jaemin said a little too enthusiastically in a poor attempt to address the sudden increase of tension in the room.

“Hi,” you said, smiling sheepishly, purposefully avoiding Mark’s gaze which you could feel boring into you. “Just gonna get a drink.”

“Help yourself,” Jeno said. Jaemin smirked beside him. 

The refrigerator was just beside Mark. Just great, you thought again. You walked towards it, desperately trying to ignore the four pairs of eyes following your every move.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, still not looking at your best friend.

Mark took a step sideways before opening the fridge for you. You muttered a quick thanks before grabbing the first bottle your hands landed on, not even bothering to check what it was. You really just wanted to get out of there. Maybe the talking to Mark plan was flawed from the beginning because you clearly can’t find the courage in you to face him now.

Beside you, Mark clicked his tongue. He was so close that you could smell his perfume mixed with a bit of alcohol. It made your knees weak. 

He took the bottle from your hand and put it back before grabbing a different one and handing it to you. “The other one had vodka. Vodkas give you a headache, remember?” he said in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Oh.” Your voice sounded small even to your own ears. Not gonna lie, you wanted to cry at that moment. “Thanks.”

You could hear Jaemin snickering behind you but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. You turned to everyone and said a quick goodbye before dashing out of the kitchen.

Your heart was beating hard and rapidly and not because you moved too fast. You didn’t know why but it hurt seeing Mark like that, like he was okay, like nothing changed with the two of you. It hurt knowing that even after everything, he still knows you the best.

You wanted to run. You wanted to disappear. But you couldn’t leave without passing by the kitchen. Somehow, you know someone in there would stop you. If not Mark, then definitely Jaemin. But you really wanted to be alone. So you resorted to the next best thing. You whipped your phone out and sent Jaemin a text.

You: thanks for inviting me to this party. now i feel like shit :D

Jaemin: IM SORRY BUT DONT LEAVE YET TF

You:  i need to be alone and i cant leave without passing by the kitchen and seeing mark. so pls let me use your room for a while.

You: i wont do anything i promise. i just need to calm down.

Jaemin: fine but dont lock the door

You: okay thanks

The door to Jaemin’s room was at the other end of the apartment. You made your way through the noisy crowd, slipping from Renjun’s weird gimmicks when he tried to make you a victim once again, before finally reaching the quiet confines of Jaemin’s room.

The thin walls barely blocked the noise but at least there was no one else here. You sat at the edge of the bed and placed the beer bottle on the floor. You forgot you didn’t even manage to open it. So you just stared at your feet, trying to catch your breath even if you didn’t do anything. That heavy feeling on your chest was back again. It was now associated with being in Mark’s presence.

You started counting to ten to calm yourself down before burying your face on your palms, breaking down into sobs as soon as your forehead came in contact with your fingers. “God, why can’t I just…” you cried, “... admit it to myself already?”

You wanted to thrash around in the bed in frustration but you thought Jaemin didn’t deserve such a mess so you settled with getting up and lightly banging your head against the door. It’s a bad habit you do when you feel annoyed or frustrated. Mark has always been reminding you to stop before you hurt yourself.

Mark. Again. You groaned, hitting your head a little harder this time.

Someone knocked on the door making you stop. You took a step back, thinking you just imagined it. But there it was again.

“Someone’s here,” you said, trying to hide the sound of your voice breaking.

“I know. Can I come in?” It was Mark. There was no question. 

Your heart started pounding on your chest once again. You wanted to tell him to go away but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. 

He took your silence as a yes. He swung the door slightly and poked his head through the small opening. Your hands immediately flew to your face to hide the fact that you’ve been crying.

“You know, I came in here because I didn’t wanna see you when I pass by the kitchen if I leave then you come here making me look like a clown,” you said, your voice muffled by your hands.

Mark chuckled softly. “Why didn’t you wanna see me?”

You didn’t reply. Your face felt hot, not just because of the tears that just won’t stop falling but also because all the blood has come rushing to your cheeks.

Mark grabbed both your wrists and gently lowered your hands down, trying to see your face, but your head bent down as soon as it wasn’t covered. “Y/N, look at me,” he said, hands still on your wrists.

“No.”

“Are you crying?” The idiot crouched down to have a glimpse of your face making you whine and cover your face again. “Last I checked, I should be the one looking brokenhearted around here.”

“God I hate you,” you mumbled. “You ignored me for nearly four weeks and you come in here just to make fun of me.”

He let out an empty laugh. “Well, you did break my heart so…”

At that, you removed your hands from your face to look at him. You were going to say sorry but Mark had that smug look on his face that made you want to punch him. It was almost convincing if you weren’t so good at reading the real emotions in his eyes. His expression softened upon finally seeing you properly.

He looked away, not being able to hold your gaze either. That just confirmed how hard he was trying to keep up with the exterior he was showing everyone.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice breaking.

He sighed.  “I told you. It’s okay.”

“But it’s not,” you cried. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t realize how easy it was to misread what we had because let’s face it, we don’t act like ‘just friends.’ I’m sorry because I was too blind to see how you felt even when you weren’t really trying to hide it. I’m sorry because even though I rejected you, I was so selfish that I still wanted to keep you for myself without realizing that you probably needed to be away from me to move on. I’m sorry because…” you swallowed.

Mark was just looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised in anticipation of what you were going to say next. You missed him. You missed that cute face of his. You missed being in his presence. You missed his voice and his laugh and how he loves teasing you even if he probably feels like shit inside. You missed everything. Four weeks have been too long without each other. Four weeks is too long without your best friend. Four weeks is too long without your home. And that’s when you realized…

“... I can’t let you go. And I might be too late, but I’m sorry that I only just realized why.”

“Why?” he asked. 

It was a simple question. Why? Yet it managed to carve out every single feeling you’ve ever felt for this boy. Every little moment he made you laugh. Every small heartbreak you get when he fails to keep his tiny promises. Every single night you ‘accidentally’ fell asleep next to each other. Every ounce of fulfillment you get when you finally convince him to sleep after a long day. Every goodnight. Every good morning. Everything.

“I love you,” you said. It sounded almost like an exhale.

For a moment, Mark didn’t reply. Your head immediately started swarming with unwelcomed thoughts. Maybe you were too late. You almost forgot about Mina who he seems to be having an excellent time with. Maybe he managed to move on within those four weeks. It’s possible, right? You had your chance and you missed it. 

Finally, Mark let out a laugh, his head falling down to look at the floor. “I told you you didn’t have to say it back,” he said, voice soft.

You shook your head. “I’m not saying it because you said it first,” you said. “I realize this might be the worst timing but I just thought you should know you weren’t the only one being stupid enough to fall for their best friend. I was just too dumb to realize that that’s what it was.”

“Why would it be the worst timing?” He frowned.

You felt like crying again. You really wish you had some alcohol in your system right now. Why is this whole confession thing taking so long? “‘Cause you’re dating Mina? Or trying to. I don’t know. I tried not keeping tabs on you because our friends are assholes who wouldn’t stop teasing me. She’s pretty, by the way. You two look good together.”

Mark laughed again. It was raw and real this time, and god, the way your chest tightened in endearment at the sound was so pure. “You thought me and Mina are dating?”

“Aren’t you? I’ve seen you guys together a lot.” Well, once. But you tend to overestimate things.

“No!” He snorted. “Jaemin and I are trying to get her and Jeno together. If anything, she made me realize that we definitely aren’t just friends.”

“Really?” Now you just feel stupid. But what else is new? It’s all you’ve been feeling lately. Come to think of it, Mark and Mina didn’t even come close to how you two act with each other.

“Really,” he said. “Friends don’t stay at each other’s place and cuddle with each other just to fall asleep, Y/N. Besides, I said I love you, didn’t I? Did you really think that’s just gonna go away that quickly?”

“Mark, I can’t even sort my feelings out. How am I supposed to figure out how yours work?” You sighed.

“Fine. Just to be clear, I still love you. Even if you don’t, I love you,” he said, taking both your hands and placing it on his shoulder before putting his on your waist.

“But I do.”

“Say it then.”

“I love you. Even if you’re the dorkiest person I know, I love you.” Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. You’ve run your hands through his hair so many times before. You wondered why it never crossed your mind that you liked doing it not because his hair is soft but because you were sucker for the domestic feeling of it.

Mark couldn’t stop himself from smiling that he had to bury his face at the crook of your neck. “I’m not used to this, sorry.”

“Me neither,” you laughed.

When he finally composed himself, he pulled away just enough to look at you. All those times you’ve stood this close before does not even compare to how it’s like right now. This is the perfect mix of feeling new but familiar.

“You have no idea how many mornings I fought the urge to kiss you whenever we wake up next to each other,” he said in a soft voice.

“Well, nothing’s stopping you know, is there?” you muttered, eyes fluttering to his lips.

You pulled Mark down by the neck as he pulled you closer to him, your lips finally connecting. The idea of kissing him isn’t new to you. There were so many times before that you’ve found yourself inches away from his face and slamming your lips together wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. But this is the first you actually kissed him yet he felt so familiar that you were almost sure you’ve done this a million times before. His lips were soft against yours that it made you weak in the knees. If he weren’t holding onto you like he was, you probably would’ve crumpled already.

The two of you pulled away, breathless.

“Wow,” he breathed. “That didn’t even come close to how I imagined it would feel like.”

You laughed. “This whole night didn’t come close to how I imagined it would be like. I thought you were gonna keep on ignoring me. And honestly, I wouldn’t know how to cope anymore because I really, really miss you already. So thanks for saving me.”

“Stop making me blush. I don’t know how I can possibly love you more than this.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. This was only one of the very few times that the reality went better than your expectations. But then again, maybe you and Mark have always been meant to happen. It was happening even before you realized it was. And now that you finally managed to sort how you both felt, there was no more wasting chances.

“Do I still have to ask you to be my girlfriend?” he asked.

“We’ve literally slept in the same bed so many times. I’d be more surprised if we’re not dating already,” you joked.

Mark grinned. “You’re literally the only one who didn’t realize that until today, but it’s okay, I still love you.”

You laughed. “Wanna go outside and pretend we didn’t make up? I’m 100% sure Jaemin betted on us.”

“I worry how your mind works sometimes, Y/N,” Mark said with a frown before kissing you on the forehead. “But let’s do it.”

You smiled. You’ve said it a lot but you really missed this proximity. You missed being able to hug him whenever you want, and now you can kiss him whenever you want too. You wanted to say you could get used to this, but the thing is… you already are.

#y/n is a clown here read at your own risk #BUT PLS ENJOY CAUSE I DID #dhjdkjfhdfk i should stop writing about mark #nct au #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee #nct mark au #nct prompts #nct blurbs #soft nct hours #sad nct hours #nct fluff au #nct angst au #nct dream au #nct 127 au

[enluv]

ex couple reveals if they'd get back together

— jake sim x gn!reader

warnings: angsty, fluff(?), cursing, suggestive-ish

coco's note: hello! the first part did super well and I got really nice feedback so here's part two! also it gets a little suggestive at the end so read at your own risk!

[shuffles of feet can be heard as two people appear on screen, neither can see or hear one another]

— What's your name and the name of your ex?"

Y/N: Hello, I'm Y/N and my exes name is Jake.

Jake: Hey I'm Jake and my ex is Y/N.

[next question is directed to y/n]

— "What do you think about Jake?"

Y/N: I think he's amazing and talented, but addicted to his job.

[the producer clears his throat and begins]

"We're going to be filming you two separately and see how your answers differ. Are you ready?"

Y/N & Jake: Yeah.

— "Why did you break up?"

Y/N: Our lives just didn't match one another, we were super busy and the energy became forced.

Jake: I got too busy. A new job meant more hours away from them and it just didn't have the same spark...or at least that's what I thought.

— "Who brought up the idea of breaking up?"

Y/N: Oh it was Jake for sure. I wanted to work things out, and kind of still had hope but he thought otherwise so we just mutually agreed on splitting up in the end.

Jake: It was me. I couldn't hurt them anymore so I decided that we should end it, but they agreed, so yeah.

— "When was the official break up?"

Y/N: *they laugh uncomfortably* I actually remember this um so we had just gotten home from a trip for a friend's birthday that we and some other friends from our group had taken and immediately he had to go back to work. Before the trip we'd already had a talk about his work and he promised that he'd spend more time with me so I was upset that he had to go back to quickly since we had just spent a nice week together and immediately he was up and off to work as if nothing had happened. It made me feel a bit insecure and upset and I think he noticed that, so by that time the next week he came home and proposed breaking up. I didn't want to at first but agreed once I'd heard his reasoning because I agreed with them.

Jake: We came back from a trip for a friend's birthday and I had to work, they got upset by it and expressed that when I came home one day, of course I had noticed it but I wanted to wait and see how things would play out. By that week after I had come to the conclusion that we needed to split and they agreed.

— "Describe your relationship in three words"

Y/N: Oh fun okay I'd say it was loving, endearing, and difficult — just because we are both so active so we did a lot together and on our own.

Jake: Educational. Happy. Adventurous. Our relationship was full of so many adventures, and they love to try new things so I learned a lot.

— "What do you miss most about them?"

Y/N: His humor, he was such a clown. [a laugh can be heard from other participants] Omg wait no! I don't mean it in a bad way, he was just so funny and always had me laughing! Oh and his dog, man I loved his dog.

Jake: Their nature to always care for others. They always and I mean always checked up on my co-workers, family, and me. My mom always told me how much she loved them.

[the screen cuts back on after a break and the cameras roll once again]

— "How would you describe your relationship now?"

Y/N: Yikes...well you see...the thing is...Jake and I share the same friend group, [an ooh no can be heard from behind the camera] yeah oh no. It's not bad but it could be better. We don't talk much anymore outside of when we all hang out but we are civil for the sake of our friends and one another.

Jake: I think it's really good. We talk all the time and even hang out. It's super healthy and positive even.

— "What was your worst quality?"

Y/N: I was the worst at time management, and I honestly still am.

Jake: I'm a workaholic, it's just in me to work I guess?

— "What was their worst quality?"

Y/N: He never took time for himself. Jake was always working or doing things for others, never for himself.

Jake: Honestly they have none. They're fucking amazing.

— "Would you ever consider getting back together?"

[the couple is shown both shifting and pondering]

Y/N: I don't...ummm...yeah. I don't know why I'm acting like I wouldn't. I would but only if I knew for sure that we'd be okay.

Jake: Yes. If given the chance, I would definitely get back with them.

— "Do you have any advice for them, for their next relationship?"

Y/N: *smiles and nods* Be yourself and just treat your next partner right, it'll work out the best for you in the end.

Jake: *his expression is unreadable but it's that of pained as well* Don't forget who you are and remember how amazing and loving you are, never settle for less.

[the couple fades off screen]

coco's final note: hi! this was honestly so fun to write, I love doing these :) thank you to everyone who asked for the second part! which member should I do next? lmk in my asks or comment who you'd like next! p.s: thank you so much for 100 followers <3

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #jake sim scenarios #jake sim x gn!reader #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #jake shim #jake shim x gn!reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen angst #enhypen

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

.

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

#non con #dark fic #dark kpop #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #lee felix #skz felix #felix smut #yongbok smut #felix x you #felix x reader #yongbok x you #yongbok x reader #kpop smut #felix x y/n

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 4

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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(t/n: ** means translation may not be accurate.)

I: We’re talking about the commemoration of 30,000 subscribers, right? What should we do?

C: Is this a chatting stream?

I: Well, yeah.

C: Let’s play game now.

I: I’m totally okay with it.

C: I feel bad that I pinned this person’s comment. Should I unpin it? This is what’ll happen if you guys aren’t careful with your comments. You’ll be exposed. I’ll forgive this person.

C: Please do streaming of you working on lyrics.

I: I’m totally okay with something like that.

C: Have you ever received hair?  

I: I did receive something similar. A deep red colour. Was it a wig or something? This is a true story.

C: Scary!

I: I didn’t think it was scary though. I was like “I see…”. It was unique.

C: Have you received a marriage registration form?

I: No, but I once received a purikura photo from a gal. The letter was cute. She’s seriously a gal, with the round letters and all. She’s super young and the purikara was cute. The content of the letter was hilarious. She’s like “Let’s hang out!”, “It’s fun!” “I read TG! I don’t understand it, but it’s fun!”.  She’s totally a gal. It was amazing. How did I get that? That’s a good one, though I didn’t get to hang out with her.

C: Eh, is it okay to send purikura?

I: I’ll just take a look at it if you send one. I won’t do anything about it. Nothing will happen.

C: Impressive move.

I: Right? But I think it’s the culture. I wanna experience this kind of culture as well. I want gals and Exile fans to read my works, not just people who have read TG. I wanna write something that everyone can enjoy.

C: You wanna interact with gals?

I: I wanna try. Normally, you won’t be able to, right? Have I ever talked to a gal before? A real gal. Avu-chan was super gal-like. Avu-chan is a gal. My first encounter with a gal was with Avu-chan from Queen Bee.

*He’s imitating Avu-chan’s way of talking.

I: I see. So there’s a lot of way to enjoy TG.

C: Seems like you’d be a grandpa.

I: Definitely the case if I ever meet a gal.

C: Are you extremely close with her (avu-chan)?

I: I’m the type who approach the other party. Well, I’m sure everyone is like this, but don’t you have different personas? I wasn’t pretending or anything, but I wore a gal persona for the first time when I was with Avu-chan. Avu-chan has a gal-like personality, so I thought I also needed a new persona.  By the way, have you played the game Persona? Just like how the main character attained new personas, the gal persona came out aggressively from behind me and possessed me.

I: Akechi is cool, right? (t/n: Akechi is a character from Persona 5.)

C: Please impersonate Avu-chan.

I: Avu-chan’s impersonation? “But then~”. How is it again? “Sui Sensei is~”. But she talks about deep stuffs, even though she’s a gal. Although she’s a gal, she’s someone with a lot of knowledge.

C: can you read gal’s alphabet?

I: I can if I try hard enough.

I: I wanna include a gal character in choujin x.

C: Sensei seems to have high communication skill.

I: I don’t think so. There’s a term called ‘communication monster’. My friend, Takahashi Kunimitsu form Osterreich is a communication monster. He knows how to hype people up, since he doesn’t say offensive things.** He can join in conversations with anyone, anywhere like a clown. Then, he’ll be very tired after that. It’s wearing him out on top of having a high communication skill. That is a communication monster. I can join in a conversation as well, but unless it’s with someone I’m fond with, I won’t. It’s tiring.

C: People who are good at getting along with others do exist.

I: Yes. He’s good at that.

I: Kunimitsu’s seriously amazing. He got along with a granny he just met in a bar. I just listened to their conversation the entire time.

C: Isn’t that considered as a communication disability if you get tired by it?

I: I do think it’s a sign of communication disability**, But again, that’s just another side of it. It’s the same as shy people who can speak well.

C: Was it the one you posted on twitter?

I: Yup. The one at the bar in Nogata. Was it in Nogata? Probably there. But I think band men have great communication skill, since they meet various types of people.

Y****: I don’t like gals.

I: That’s not good. You’re in the theatre club, after all. Someone involves in theatres can’t be bias. It’s okay if you don’t like them, but it’s better to come across them.

C: Is it important to talk and meet with various people?

I: Hm, I wonder. I think it’s important, especially when you’re still shaping your identity. I speak like this because I didn’t manage to meet and get along with people. I was super serious whenever I was invited to a live show, like the time I met Mr. TK. I was super serious every time I met people when I was in my 20s.

C: You did meet Gegegay, right? (t/n: Tokyo Gegegay is a Japanese dance & music group.)

I: I did. I might not be able to converse with him if I didn’t come prepared. They’re super nice though. Mr. Mikey’s punch was strong. I was like “so we’re gonna have this kind of conversation on our first meeting.”. But it was really entertaining. He’s actually being considerate of me. Somehow, I’ve had a conversation with Mr. Mikey and Ms. Reol, just the three of us remotely. Mr. Mikey was really considerate during the conversation to make it very enjoyable. I was amazed by it.

(t/n: Mikey is the leader of Tokyo Gegegay. Reol is a Japanese singer.)

C: Have you ever met Hirose Alice? (t/n: Hirose Alice is an actress. She’s a big fan of TG.)

I: Nope. I think it’s better not to meet her. There’s no chance to meet her.

C: Who’s the person you’re most nervous with when you met them?

I: It’s hard to tell, but I felt nervous every time I met someone for the first time. Then, the feeling gradually disappeared after I got to know them. That’s not good, isn’t it? But, when I met Togashi sensei, it’s more like a dream. It’s an indescribable feeling when I met him. I was like “This kind of feeling exists.” I was nervous when I met Avu-chan as well. But rather than feeling nervous, since she was very nice, I was able to talk a lot. It was fun.

*Someone asked if he had meet Masataka Kubota.

I: I’ve met him.

C: Do you have a mentor?

I: Probably Hara sensei. The word ‘mentor’ is hard to describe. But, he’s somewhat a mentor-like presence to me. I don’t know.  

C: Do you like Yonezu Kenshi?

I: That’s needless to say. Everyone likes him.

*Someone asked if he’s met Horikoshi Kohei sensei (BNHA’s author).

I: Nope. We have the same age.

C: He drew the draft while lying down, right? (t/n: OP probably talking about Togashi sensei.)

I: He showed me how he did the draft.

*Someone asked if he’s met Inoue Takehiko sensei (Slam dunk’s author.)

I: Nope. If Hara sensei is considered as my mentor, though I can just call him that, Inoue Takehiko sensei would be my mentor uncle.

C: Was Masataka Kubota good-looking?

I: He’s super good-looking.

*Someone asked if he’s met Kotoyama sensei (Dagashikashi’s author).

I: I’ve never met her.

*Someone asked if he’s met Araki Hirohiko sensei (Jojo’s author).

I: Nope. Wait, I did. It was when I was still an assistant. My senior, Matsubara Toshimitsu sensei, who’s writing a manga called Kurogane no Valhallian in Young jump, was like “Araki Hirohiko is here! Let’s meet him for a bit!”, and I agreed to him. Araki sensei is on another level, as expected. He’s super-duper famous, after all. All the assistants were surrounding him, asking him for pictures. When it was our turn, my smile was so stiff when I took a picture with him. I was too nervous. It was a distorted smile. Then, Mr. Matsubara accidentally stepped on Araki sensei’s foot. He’s like “I’m sorry! I accidentally stepped on your foot!” By the way, I went to the new year’s party in my pajama, which had curry on the sleeve and took a picture with Araki sensei. The clothes were shabby. Since Araki sensei was a nice person, He complimented me saying the it was fashionable. I was so thankful. He complimented my pilled and curry stained clothes. I was happy for that. I went there wearing pajama because I didn’t have any other clothes. The clothes were in a white colour. I went there wearing a parker with dull pants. He was really cool. Very young-looking and a wonderful person.

C: Have you gotten a chance to meet Miura Kentaro sensei (Berserk’s author)?

I: No, I’d never met him. I liked him a lot. I still like him. I can’t continue talking about him. It’s too sad. I can’t express how I feel other than I’m sad. Death. Regarding this, I wish people wouldn’t pray to the dead souls so casually. I don’t like praying to the dead souls nor do I like people doing that as well.

C: Have you met Mengo sensei (Scum’s wish’s author) and Aka sensei (Kaguya sama’s author)?

I: I’ve met Ms. Mengo a long time ago. She’s always present at parties. She’s quite stand out as well. She’s wearing cat ears the first time I met her. It was cute. I think I have met Akasaka sensei.  Probably just introduced myself.  

C: You’re a mangaka, but have you been surprised by other mangakas’ personalities?

I: Pretty much. Like their images or...Well, aren’t you like that with everyone? Isn’t it normal to be surprised by their images, physiques, and voices? Since you never imagine about those things.

C: I want you to meet Isayama sensei.

I: Isayama sensei’s also the same age as me.

C: I have met Itagaki Keisuke sensei (Baki’s author)!

I: So you’ve met him. I see.

C: Have you met Inagawa Junji (actor & director)?

I: I want to.

*Ishida was about to read a comment but stopped.

I: People will keep asking who I’ve met if I answer this, so I’ll skip it.

*He still answered the question.

I: I’ve never met Ryuuichi (illustrator & character designer). He’s gotten married. He looks happy, so it’s all well. Ever since before, I didn’t think he had to be that self-asserting. He didn’t need to tell who he was. It’s already written in his account. I was like “Don’t worry, everyone knows. Everyone sees it.” Well, he looks happy, above all.

C: I was excited seeing Hara sensei at the Kingdom exhibition.

I: Oh, he was there.

Part 5

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #jack jeanne #choujin x #chojin x #ishida sushi channel

[artificialqueens]

Maybe You're My Enemy (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

a/n: hey, hi, hello! welcome to the first canon compliant thing i have written since 2017, i am *~ petrified! ~* . i had to write something to fix these two though after the events of episode 8 because i just love them dearly (and the fact in the subsequent episode Lawrence just dropped in the fact they’d shared a bed didn’t help this at all). thank you so much to @purecamp for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not a heap of shit (so if it turns out that it is then just blame her xo). also the song it’s set to is enemy by Charli XCX in case u want to get the immersive vibes!

fic summary: On one side of Scotland, Lawrence disappears from social media. On the other, Ellie reflects.

***

They say, “Keep your friends close”

But you’re closer, I love when you’re here

I’m so far away sometimes, I’m distant, yeah

The sky is grey. The clouds are grey. The stagnant water of the quay is grey, and so’s the metal rail that Ellie’s holding on to as he narrows his eyes, tries to stop the wind from hitting them and making him tear up.

As if the wind would be the only reason.

He brings his gaze into focus on the HMS Unicorn, sat in the water in front of him like some massive whale that’s been planted in a bathtub. It’s a fucking ugly ship; a glorified tugboat on steroids with a big bowsprit sticking out at the front all out of place, but he likes the little bust of the once-white unicorn that sticks out from under it. Ellie remembers getting brought here for a school trip in Primary 3, pointing to the unicorn all excited and getting laughed at by the boys in his class that he knew were going to grow up to be the ones that gave the teachers lip and got suspended in high school.

He remembers that Bryce made up the fact that one of the boys had “said the f word” in the gift shop later that day, just so Ellie could have the satisfaction of watching them get screamed at by their teacher. Ellie still fucking loves him for that.

Ellie thinks the unicorn is out of place in all this grey. He remembers the time he did his unicorn mix when he opened for Willam, how nervous he’d been and messaging Lawrence about it and getting a “this you coming out to me as a furry?” in return which made him laugh and forget why he’d even been nervous in the first place. He can’t help the smile the memory brings to his face even if he wants to.

And he wants to.

Lawrence always could make him smile, get a laugh from him even when he didn’t feel like it. He remembers with a blow to his heart what Lawrence had said on the show- “you’re not terribly funny? Like you don’t have…zinger-y punchlines?” - and how Tia had laughed and Ellie had wanted so much to bite back but didn’t.

Because he always could draw a laugh out of Lawrence. Granted he was usually laughing at him rather than with him, but Ellie could still put a smile on his face by acting dumb, saying things that Lawrence would subsequently repeat in a screech of disbelief that would always make Ellie laugh harder anyway. He’d always self-impose ridiculous dares on himself in front of him: in Hive, “here, what if I did the entire shot rainbow?”, in Nandos, “d’you think I could do the wing roulette by myself?”, in Glasgow on the Subway on the way to a gig, “dare me to get off at Ibrox and I’ll go to the Louden Tavern dressed like this?”. Ellie had been used to being the class clown for Lawrence, the jester for the queen.

Or maybe just a fool.

Ellie’s always hated the colour grey.

You might help me, intimacy

I’ll admit, I’m scared

Maybe, maybe you can reach me, yeah

His surroundings turn to silver as he shoves his hands in his pockets, heads towards the V&A museum that’s still glinting despite the lack of sunlight. He’s stopped by two teenage girls that are polite and shy and squeaky-voiced as they ask for a photo- he supposes that’s what he gets when he goes out wearing the pink and purple fur coat with the hearts on it. Ellie forces a smile and thanks them for supporting him and they tell him he’s their favourite in return.

After they walk away he thinks they must have been lying, but then he feels the frown etch itself onto his face as he shakes his head. The self-doubt is a hangover from filming that he needs to shake off.

He squints at the museum as he walks past, fleetingly thinks about going in and looking at some of the old fashion to cheer him up. A’whora’s promised to go with him when he’s eventually allowed to come up to visit, and Ellie snorts at the idea of the fashion queen of the London scene in Dundee. The thought of A’whora’s reaction to the Wellgate shopping centre- the Credit Union, the B&M, the Jobcentre Plus- puts the first smile on his face he’s had in days.

Lawrence had gone round the museum with him too, when Ellie had dropped him off at the train station the day after a gig and they’d been killing time. It had been weird to just dick about like that together the first few times. Weird the fact there was no makeup, glue and wigs, no alcohol or gay anthems to yell over. Just two boys walking around a museum together. Like a date.

Ellie makes a face before he even realises. Not this.

The first time they did all of it together was weird. Just like everything Lawrence had written. Nandos, cinema, staying at his. That last one especially. Ellie can still remember the way he’d stared up at the bumpy ceiling from his position on Lawrence’s couch in the pitch dark, street lamps from outside casting shadows through the blinds. The room was too cold and the blanket was too small and he hadn’t slept a wink but he’d still do it all over again.

The first time they’d both lain on Lawrence’s bed the morning after the night before, cracking up at Scottish You Laugh You Lose compilations on Youtube and Ellie being unable to help the tears that streamed down his face at Lawrence imitating “big shoe, big shoeeee!”. The way they’d been close and the way their arms had touched and the way Ellie had felt ridiculous for the way his heart was hammering. Just a friend.

The first time they’d found each other under the dark lights of CCs when they’d both been through in Edinburgh to support Alice by chance. The way Ellie’s heart had lit up like a firework when he saw him. The way they’d laced their fingers together without even having to ask permission first, the way everything just seemed to be as simple as tequila rose shots and pink lights and leaning against the wall as they smoked outside.

The way everything else had just happened so easily.

Ellie squeezes his eyes shut before he can realise what he’s doing. The memories have forced their way in, kicked down a door in his head that he’d been sure he’d bolted shut.

He needs to change the locks.

Maybe you’re my enemy

Now I’ve finally let you come a little close to me,

Maybe you’re my enemy

You’re the only one who knows the way I’m really feelin’

Ellie is in the same Stitch onesie he’s been shrugging on since the last episode aired. It stinks. He’s joked to A'whora that he can probably smell him through the phone, and A'whora’s asked if he just sweats out Mango Loco Monster. Ellie makes some joke about wringing out his clothes into a pint glass if he did, which makes A'whora retch on camera.

He’s glad they made up at least. They didn’t have too much of a choice, to be fair. Apart from the way they get on so well, their bond and their friendship, A'whora’s the only other one who knows what it’s like to be in Ellie’s situation.

Except A'whora never stabbed Tayce in the back.

“You should talk to him,” A'whora insists, bringing the whole sorry situation up in a pause where Ellie must have looked as if he was about to make a vodka bleach mixer.

Ellie looks pointedly back at him through the screen. “I’ve been telling you to talk to Tayce for months.”

He watches A'whora pull an awkward face and he’s satisfied he’s hit a nerve. “That’s different though. You and Lawrence don’t live together.”

“Yeah. Least I wasn’t stupid enough to move in with someone I fancied, how’s that going for you?”

A'whora splutters a laugh that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Ellie feels guilty all over again. He feels like that’s his default these days. “Sorry, chick, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I mean. It’s fine. Just have to act as if I’m not in love with the bitch every time I’m around her, it’s not hard,” A'whora deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “You know Tayce feels the same. Everyone knows it.”

“No I don’t,” A'whora says instantly back to him, shaking his head and dissolving momentarily into pixels. “Besides, even if she did, like…it’s easier if she didn’t, y'know? All this…publicity, every move getting analysed. It’s easier to just…not.”

Ellie narrows his eyes. “You’re doing a smashing job making the case for me and Lawrence.”

“You know what I mean! You don’t get people asking where Lawrence is in every live you do. You don’t get people going through the show fucking…frame by frame and then editing every time you breathe around each other together and setting it to a bloody Little Mix song.”

Ellie bursts out laughing and starts singing Black Magic down the phone to him, which makes A'whora look pointedly at him before clearly being unable to hold it for long and instead laughing with him.

Both their laughter dies down and Ellie watches as A'whora smiles sadly, sincerely. “He’s worth the risk, Els.”

“Oh my God, prison. Who the fuck are you, Nicholas Sparks?”

The reference flies over A'whora's head and Ellie starts explaining the plot of the A Walk to Remember, steering the conversation out of the waters it had become marooned in, the captain of his very own HMS Unicorn.

He feels more like he’s aboard the Titanic with every message that goes unread.

Now it’s really clear to me

You could do a little damage, you could cut me deeper

“It didn’t get you a badge though, was it worth it?”

Ellie’s asked himself that every day since the episode aired. Since he made the decision, pretty much. Financially? Yes it was. It’s pretty well-known at this point in the grand scheme of Drag Race that with each week you’re on the likelihood of securing more bookings is increased, and now with his slot at Drag Fest he feels as if he’s hit the jackpot.

Everything else? Not so much.

Ellie still feels his stomach drop if he thinks enough about that untucked, which he does all the time. Too much, in fact. The aggression in Lawrence’s voice which Ellie knew all too well was a manifestation of hurt on so many levels. The way Lawrence chose the conflict that Ellie wished he could have avoided. The way Lawrence left his feelings bare while Ellie couldn’t trust himself to do the same in case he said something he might regret.

The fact Lawrence had thought Ellie had set him up to fail was maybe what hurt the most, though. Ellie had wanted to ask him how he thought he’d be able to do that after everything they’d been through together. He’d tried to tell him he didn’t think it was possible for him to fail at something he shines at. He’d wanted to grab Lawrence’s pink fucking headpiece and bash him over the head with it until he realised that he’s Lawrence fucking Chaney, he is the Scottish drag queen. Lawrence is the one who will say something at a gig one week and it’ll be common drag parlance across the country by the next. Lawrence is the one getting booked by the BBC Social to make educational videos. Lawrence is the one on posters across Glasgow, for fuck’s sake.

Ellie might not have been thinking about the worst case scenario in that moment, but only because he genuinely didn’t think there could be one.

After all, he’d had his opportunity to sabotage Lawrence. Ellie remembers the first day when the producers had wanted to set up the Scottish queen rivalry, asked for something shady they could use as a soundbite. The way he’d sought out Lawrence on a smoke break and told him about the situation and reassured him that he hadn’t given them anything, and the way Lawrence had just smiled back at him, softly and genuinely, and told Ellie he’d done the same. The way they’d minutely linked pinkies together before breaking them and walking back inside as if they’d barely shared so much as a glance, neither of them wanting to draw any suspicion their way.

And he could’ve been harsher in that untucked if he’d wanted. Could’ve said how for someone that was meant to care so much about friendship and sisterhood, Lawrence had been doing a great job shitting on him from a great height about his lack of challenge wins and his run on the show.  

But he didn’t, because…well. He knows why.

Because the knowledge that he’d hurt Lawrence and lost his trust had done more damage than any joke Lawrence made at his expense could ever do.

Ellie goes live on the Tuesday afternoon. A comment on the chat reads, “are u A’whora and Lawrence still friends???”

“Yeah, me and A’whora are still friends!” Ellie bats the comment away with a fake smile.

He’ll blame his lack of comprehension skills if he’s asked about it.

I feel guilty, I feel nervous, I feel certain now

Maybe, maybe you can reach me

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it.

Maybe it’s when he wakes up on Friday and Lawrence’s Twitter isn’t loading. Maybe it’s when he reads the other Scottish girls condemning the fans, the word fatphobia leaping out, grabbing Ellie’s heart and wrenching it tight.

Surely not this?

Ellie searches Twitter and what he finds makes him feel ill. He doesn’t know what he had expected- he’d known the frantic tweet urging the fans to be kind that he’d typed out before he went to sleep hadn’t exactly been going to create world peace overnight- but he hadn’t expected any of this. Everyone loves Lawrence, surely.

Although perhaps he’s just talking from experience.

Maybe it’s when he shoots Lawrence a message that goes unopened. In all honesty Ellie doesn’t blame him. A flimsy sentiment about hoping he’s okay that clocks in at under 250 characters isn’t going to cut it, and he’s grateful when Bimini, with all their empathy and ability to read a situation as clear as day, texts him and tells him that Lawrence has replied to them and he’s…well, he’s managing.

Maybe it’s when Ellie goes live with A’whora and he manages to mention Lawrence entirely too many times. A cry for attention or an old habit that’s dying hard? He can’t tell. Perhaps it’s both.

It’s definitely got something to do with the Facebook post.

Whatever it is, Ellie finds himself stuffing any old random items of clothing in a backpack and hoping it makes an outfit, shoving the spare key into the soil of the plant pot outside his front door and texting Anne to tell her where it is in case…fuck knows, the flat goes on fire while he’s away or something. He looks up the train times as he’s on his way to the station; a terrible decision, really, as when he’s still fifteen minutes away he discovers there’s one in ten. Somehow he manages to make it to the station with just a minute to spare and his heart lifts to find that the ticket barriers are open, so he dashes through them and hurtles onto the train that’s waiting at the platform. He catches his breath as he slumps into a table seat, having to take his mask off for a couple of seconds just so he can breathe properly. The way his heart is going at the rate the train’s about to isn’t helping.

The chimes of the train announcement cut through his attempts at slowing his heart down, and the little robotic woman’s voice confirms that his ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decision is actually happening.

“This is Dundee. This train is for Glasgow Queen Street.”

Because this is all so last minute, but he needs to see Lawrence. He’s apologised probably ten times by now but he knows he needs to make it eleven. He knows (he hopes) that Lawrence needs that eleventh time too. He knows that Lawrence needs Ellie’s persistence, knows that it’s all just an attempt at self-preservation. Lawrence’s attempts at shutting Ellie out are just inviting him to bring a battering ram. At least, he hopes. But like A’whora had said…he’s worth the risk.

The train starts moving, and even if he wanted to back out now he couldn’t.

So cold at the surface, I’m scared of nothin’

Underneath, I’m nervous

Can you reach me?  

Ellie waits for the subway at Buchanan Street and his glazed-over eyes focus on a massive poster of Lawrence on the platform opposite. He briefly considers throwing himself under the next train.

The journey down had passed somehow in the blink of an eye and also agonisingly slowly. Too much time to sit and stare out of the window but not enough time to figure out what he’s going to say. He still doesn’t know. He’d said it all those months ago, he’s said it through texts and DMs. This time feels different, though. This time is different. This time there’s no cameras or runners or pink tables, or distance between them or tension at the fact nothing had aired yet.

It’s going to be the pair of them and Lawrence’s flat. Just like it’s been so many times before.

Ellie thinks he’ll probably just open his mouth, say whatever gets there first and hope it hits the right notes; a terrible decision arrived upon as a result of the lack of any other option. His mind is a messed up ball of television static, a knotted yarn of white noise that he can’t find the end of. He feels as if it’s made of the noise the train makes as it screams into the station, metal on metal and the low whoosh of the wind through the tunnel and the rickety shaking of the doors as they slide open and people stream off.

He picks up his bag and sinks down into the horrifically patterned upholstery of the seats, settling himself in for the journey. The little metal tin can of a train doesn’t take long to fire through the seven stops before Govan and with each one that passes Ellie can feel his nerves spiking and his mouth growing dry.

What if Lawrence isn’t even in? What if it’s all got too much and he’s gone back to Helensburgh for the foreseeable? Ellie could get a train up there, he supposes; he’s already on this side of the country, although he doesn’t know if Lawrence would appreciate the gesture or call the police on him.

Ellie concludes it would be worth it anyway.

He emerges from the Subway and the grey seems to hit him all over again, seeping into his clothes and forcing him to fight through the sadness that hits him like a wave. There’s a little beam of sunshine fighting to escape the clouds though, and Ellie hopes it’s some form of pathetic fallacy. Or whatever that one about the weather matching your feelings was. Fucked if he ever paid attention in Nat 5 English.

The streets of red brick tenements feel like pens of hostility as he passes windows that serve as frames for Union Jacks and Red Hand of Ulster flags. Even being raised in a Christian household doesn’t equip him to identify with this form of religion; where the disciples are football players and the gods are flags and the hymns are about killing Catholics. Ellie has always worried about Lawrence living here, told him as much, but he’s always been met with a bark of a laugh back and some comment about how he’s only saying that because he’s lived such a sheltered little life in Dundee and wouldn’t last five minutes trying to inhabit Glasgow and all its cheerful sectarianism. Lawrence has always had a very blythe attitude to the whole thing, and Ellie remembers when he’d held his hand on the way back from the Subway in full drag after a gig like it was nothing, the way some dick in an orange and blue scarf had shouted at them from across the street and Lawrence had just yelled back with an “awrite, babes?” as if he had a death wish.

Which is what makes this whole thing so grim. The Lawrence who drunkenly and sarcastically greets bigots at three in the morning from across the street doesn’t marry up with the Lawrence that’s holed up in his flat in the face of negativity. Ellie supposes that one homophobic Rangers fan is one homophobic Rangers fan, but Twitter can seem like the whole world’s population, and if Lawrence thinks the world hates him just because he’s reacted to something that was Ellie’s fault…

He feels his gut wrench.

Ellie turns into Lawrence’s street and feels ill. He could always go home. Turn and walk back to the Subway, train back to Queen Street, back to Dundee, back to the flat. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t even consciously made the decision, like it was all a dream.

He sleepwalks to Lawrence’s close door anyway, just like he knew he would.

His hand shakes as he presses the buzzer too hard, and the panic rises in his throat as the seconds pass agonisingly slowly. When there’s a crackle from the intercom, he freezes in fear.

“Hello?”

It’s Kiko’s voice. Of course his flatmate had to be the one to answer, drag out the humiliation of the whole thing. Ellie can hear the shake to his voice as he replies.

“Hey, it’s Ellie.”

“…Ellie?”

He chooses to ignore the disbelief, acts as if it’s normal for him to have travelled across the country to turn up on Lawrence’s doorstep in the middle of a pandemic when there’s a travel ban in place. He’s considering this essential travel anyway.

“Is Lawrence in at all?”

Kiko, for her part, seems to pick up on the way the whole visit is masquerading as routine. In the split second before she replies, Ellie finds himself holding his breath. He steels himself, prepares for a “no, he’s actually…”, to send him back to Dundee like a crumpled sheet of paper tossed into a bin.

So Ellie feels like his throat’s going to close up when Kiko replies down the intercom. “Yeah, two secs. I’ll buzz you up.”

The dread settles in his gut like a weight as the buzzer rings out into the street, harsh and loud and doing nothing for Ellie’s derailed train of thought. He pushes on the door, takes his first step into the close and the echo seems to hit him deep in his chest. He finds himself wishing Lawrence lives four up but he’s only on the first floor, and as Ellie puts his foot on the first step of the staircase he keeps his eyes trained on the stairs because he knows the moment he looks up he’s going to see somebody standing there holding the door open and even though he’s had hours to prepare himself, weeks even, he’s not ready for that in the slightest.

And when he finally brings his gaze onto the front door with four steps to go, he’s not ready for the way the sight of Lawrence almost knocks him straight back down again. He’s slumped against the doorframe and has very clearly not slept- since when, Ellie couldn’t guess. A black hoodie is swamping him and a pair of navy sweatpants are doing the same, making him seem smaller than he already is. The sight of his hair up in that tiny bun hurts Ellie’s heart because it makes him want to smile, reminds him of the Lawrence he’d dick about in the workroom and the smoking area and the hotel corridors with before it all went so wrong. His arms are folded and he’s looking at the tiles on the landing floor until Ellie reaches the doorway, shifts awkwardly.

“Hi.”

Lawrence doesn’t quite meet his eyes. It’s a minute detail that hurts Ellie more than he would have expected. He doesn’t reply for a second, then seems to relent. “Hey.”

Another pause. The atmosphere makes Ellie wish he’d worn a thicker jacket.

“You’re not meant to be here, you know. Wee Nicky’s probably had snipers trained on you since you got off the train,” Lawrence says, delivering the quip with a bitter, barbed edge that makes Ellie think it’s less of a joke and more wishful thinking.

“Wouldn’t be any less than I deserve, I’m sure,” Ellie smiles sadly, unable to make it meet his eyes. Lawrence’s expression remains unimpressed.

“So why are you here, then,” he not so much as demands an answer but disinterestedly inquires. Ellie bites his bottom lip before he replies, as if he’s forcing himself to make sure his words are perfect.

“I just came down because…well, I wanted to see how you were. I know the past week must have been shit for you.”

Lawrence raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide as if to really drive home to Ellie how much of an understatement he already knows he’s made. “Yeah.”

Ellie sighs, wanting desperately to get the next part right. “And I felt like I needed to say I’m sorry. Y’know, in front of you.”

“You said sorry back when we filmed. We’re over it, it’s fine,” Lawrence says flatly, conveying that everything is not fine.

“It’s not fine, though. I wouldn’t have come down if it was fine. Things haven’t been fine since that day, and like…I miss you, Lawrence, I don’t want to lose you as a friend, or as a sister, or as…” Ellie stumbles, looking to the floor as he tries to articulate the other facet of their relationship. “…whatever else we are. Whatever else we were. I’m sorry for fucking everything up.”

There’s a silence in which the pair of them freeze and hold their breath. Time could very well be standing still for all Ellie knows. He immediately regrets bringing up all of…that. He should’ve kept it to friendship, shouldn’t have added anything on. Before he can overthink any more or begin to backtrack, a small sigh from Lawrence makes him look up.

“I thought you hated me,” he says. His voice is small and the words are unexpected. There’s so much Ellie could say in response. He settles on a joke.

“No, I think you’re a cunt. There’s a difference,” Ellie smiles tightly, the joke tentative. The snort it gets from Lawrence makes his smile grow without him being able to help it. “Was that a good one? Thought I was the unfunniest person on the planet?”

“We weren’t talking about your Bake Off improv,” Lawrence raises his eyebrows as he smirks, and Ellie fakes a wounded laugh.

“Shady cow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence says out of nowhere, his smile gone all of a sudden.

Ellie tries to drag the joke out a little longer, hold onto the sparks they’ve just created. “Nah, it was shit, you’re right.”

“No, Ellie…” Lawrence shakes his head, worrying his lip between his teeth a little. “I am sorry.”

Ellie feels the panic wash over him when he clocks the glisten in his eyes. “It’s fine, girl.”

“It’s not fine. I was a dick to you so many times, no fuckin’ wonder I thought you’d set me up. I would too if I had somebody talking down to me like I did to you,” Lawrence says gravely. His gaze is fixed on his floor and just as Ellie is about to speak he catches sight of two tears that fall onto the red carpet, the darkness akin to blood. His horror grows as Lawrence finally snaps his head up, tears shining in his eyes as he sighs helplessly in a shaky voice. “You’re amazing, Ellie, you’re such a talent, and…fuck, I missed you.”

His words mean more to him that Ellie had expected them to. He doesn’t want to let that show, though, because that’s too much, that means too much for the situation just now and he can deal with that realisation at a later date. For now, Ellie points at him in mock-accusation. “Hey listen, I’m the one that got the train down to come and make a big speech to you and say sorry. Buy your own damn train ticket for that.”

Lawrence’s voice is thick with tears as he lets out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“Wee bitch. Always have to make everything about you,” Ellie rolls his eyes, getting another teary laugh out of Lawrence and raising his hopes that maybe they’ll be okay.

And then the banks break and Lawrence makes a little choked-up noise, a sob that’s not fully a sob. His eyes meet Ellie’s and they’re full of so much sadness and regret that just looking at them creates a crack in Ellie’s heart, one that matches the crack in Lawrence’s voice as he speaks again.

“This has all been shit to do without you.”

Ellie doesn’t think before opening his arms out, shaking his head affectionately. “Don’t be silly. C’mere.”

When Lawrence immediately opens out his own and they meet each other in the middle and hug tightly, Ellie feels like a balloon that’s been let go and is floating up to the sky.

The clouds aren’t grey.

The way they’re holding each other brings back too many memories. Seeing each other at gigs and feeling butterflies take hold of his stomach. Coming off stage after a number and conveying his pride in him without even having to say a word. Saying goodbye at train stations with disappointment lodging itself in his heart. All the nostalgia makes Ellie want to cry, but he can’t start now. Instead, he breaths a shaky sigh, shakes his head before he speaks.

“You’ve always had me, okay? You’ve always got me. We’ve said sorry now, that’s the end of it. Periodt,” Ellie murmurs against his shoulder, adding on his trademark at the end. The laugh he gets muffled against his chest in return makes him feel lighter.

“I’ve not showered. I definitely stink. You don’t have to keep hugging me, you know.”

“You don’t. I want to,” Ellie says back. He means it.

It’s Lawrence that slides out of the hug first but he’s still standing close as he quickly wipes away his tears, looks Ellie up and down with a smirk on his face. “So where’s your Travelodge, hen?”

Ellie’s sheepish when he makes eye contact with him again, shrugs one strap of the rucksack off before replying. “You know damn well I’ve not booked anywhere.”

“Fuckin’ hell. Right, come on,” Lawrence shakes his head affectionately, stepping back into his hallway and letting Ellie finally cross the threshold to drop his bag like an anchor in the flat. It’s the physical manifestation of the burden finally being lifted off of him, the guilt and the regret melting away in favour of the flutter of his heart and a few small sparks that he wants to put in resin. “I get to choose the film later as reparations. Don’t trust you since you made us watch Cat In The Hat.”

Ellie gives a shocked gasp, genuinely offended. “It’s good!”

“Is it fuck. In fact, just for that I’m going to make you sit through something sci-fi and geeky and you’re gonna hate it,” Lawrence smiles with genuine glee, and Ellie can’t even bring himself to be mad about it. As the pair of them walk through to the living room, Lawrence jumps onto the sofa and fixes Ellie with a look that is clearly meant to be serious but that simultaneously Lawrence can’t commit to and Ellie can’t believe. “You’re sleeping here tonight, by the way.”

Ellie raises his eyebrows as he fakes his agreement, going along with the charade Lawrence is beginning. They both know they’ll end up curled up together on the sofa with neither of them having an explanation for how it’s happened, but at the same time knowing they don’t have to explain themselves. They know that Ellie will end up falling asleep slumped against Lawrence and that he’ll have to gently shake him awake, that he’ll wordlessly offer Ellie a hand to drag him off the couch with and that they’ll go through to Lawrence’s room like always. They know that they’ll wake up tangled together like the sheets and that Ellie will be there for him, that he’ll help Lawrence piece himself back together and they’ll go back to the start. Well, maybe not the start. Perhaps somewhere better.

Ellie keeps his friends close, but Lawrence is something a little bit more. Something a little bit closer.

Baby, you’re my enemy.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #a'whora #uk2 #canon compliant #angst #hurt/comfort #song fic #maybe you're my enemy #ortega

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 6

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes, blood

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“St. Roch, Louisiana. We’re staying in our own backyard”. Flag was reading from a tablet; as we were taken through a long hallway, leading from the cellblock, to what seemed to be a large garage.

I had a guards pistol aimed at me, as it’s owner followed my every move, with cold eyes.

I had spent the rest the day before, trying to wrap my mind around my new situation.

I was officially a prisoner at Belle Reve – a high security penitentiary, in the sweatiest asscrack of the Louisiana swamps. I was there for the kidnapping and assault of judge Jeremiah Kelper. 

The assault and maiming had been of such a horrible nature, that I was committed to this facility, without trial. My conviction was a formality, as I apparently confessed to the guards of Belle Reve, the night of my arrival.

I was to serve life, without parole.

There was no mention of the incident in Wayne Tower in my file.

Unofficially, I was the newest member of Task Force X, a top-secret group of meta-humans, and people with exceptional skills, required to complete missions of a classified nature.

These individuals also happened to all be convicted felons, and the scum of the earth.

There was Floyd Lawton; a.k.a. Deadshot. The man who never missed a shot. During dinner – sloppy joes, yum… – he’d shown me a picture of a cute 8 year old girl, who had his eyes.

“She’s a bit older now, writes me every day. She just got an A on her biology report!”, he’d exclaimed proudly. It was clear Floyd loved his daughter, more than anything.

Killer Croc – Waylon Jones. He was huge, terrifying; and made me feel safer than I had in weeks, just by his presence. Croc – as he insisted on being called – had won me over, by calling me cher’.

I’d talked to him about Sammy, and recounted some of the trucker stories he’d told me.

After Croc’d told me he’d once eaten a truckdriver, he said: “I’m glad it wasn’t your boss. He seems like a decent guy”.

I’d been surprised by the gentle and kind demeanor of Chato Santana; or, Diablo, as they called him. I’d seen a videoclip on the news once, of him torching a group of inmates at a prison he was held at. I thought he’d be a hothead – pun intended – but he turned out to be calm and remorseful about his violent past.

Harley. Now, she was a different story. She was about as calm as a puppy on poppers. She also seemed to have no remorse for anything she’d done, as the sidekick and girlfriend of the Joker. I was equal parts terrified and enthralled by her person.

She’d spent most of the rest of the day, singing lullabies to a picture of a hyena, and doing her nails. Once, she’d disappeared for about an hour, before returning to her former activities, with a satisfied smile plastered over her pretty face.

We soon discovered what Harley had been doing, when the napping Digger Harkness – Captain Boomerang, the australian – suddenly screamed; jumping up and down, scratching at his body.

“Ants! Bloody fire ants!”, he’d yelped with a shrill voice; running towards the bathroom.

He’d returned a while later, shaking his coat, and sending the giggling Harley a deadly look. His arms and neck were covered in tiny and angry red welts; that he’d scratched at for the rest of the day.

This was my new family. I was very aware that none of us had chosen to be here, but it seemed that we were all determined to make the best of it, until such an opportunity arose, that we’d be able to leave.

Apparently, Harley had tried to run multiple times – even having made it back to the Clown; and stayed of the grid for a few months, before arriving back at Belle Reve, with a pair of roller skates, and a taxidermized beaver.

I didn’t know when or if I’d be able to escape; so for now, I decided to settle in.

---

In the middle of the large garage stood a helicopter the size of a tank. In front of it stood six crates; each of our names written on the side of one of them.

The rest of the squad seemed to know the procedure. They opened their crates, and dug through them. Flag paced back and forth in front of us, carrying a machinegun.

“You know the deal”, he hollered. “Three weapons. Two ranged, one for close combat. Croc and Diablo, you are both the exceptions”. No weapons for them, I guessed.

“Oy, colonel”, Digger called.

“No, Digger”, Flag answered, before the aussie had a chance to ask. “Boomerangs do not count as close range, though they can be used as such. You bring two. No more”. Digger cursed under his breath.

They’d all been through this before. I couldn’t help but feel like it was the first day of school, and that I’d forgotten my backpack at home.

“You alright?”, Floyd asked from behind me.

“Yeah”, I answered. “It’s just…new. How do you do this? How do you work for these people, who treat you like shit, and then demand that you risk your lives for them?”. I bent to open my crate, and started going through the equipment in it.

“Look”, said Floyd. “Ain’t none of us here who wants to be here. Except for maybe Harley”, he smiled, and looked at the person in question.

She was swinging an oversized fairground hammer, almost knocking over a soldier who was busy checking out her ass.

“We do this, because we have to, for one reason or another”. He looked at me seriously. “I’m here for my little girl. Every time I finish one of these missions, I’m one step closer to seeing her again; and to show her that her daddy’s not a monster”.

I pulled out my jacket, stood up, and looked at it.

“You find whatever reason you need to do this, but make sure it’s important enough, not just to survive for, but to live for”, Floyd finished, patted my shoulder, and walked away.

I sighed and returned to my crate. I had no idea what in my life was important enough to live for at this point.

I didn’t have a family to protect or impress. That had all ended after Hatter had entered my life.

Sammy… he was a friend, but he’d be better of if I didn’t return. Ever.

That left my cats. But they were fine where they were.

So what?

I was interrupted in my train of thought by Flag, who suddenly appeared next to me.

“Hey. You need to get ready. Liftoff in 10”.

“Sir, yes, sir”, I retorted, and rolled my eyes.

I went behind a tall crate to change into my outfit. Leggings, top, boots, jacket; and finally, my claws. I tested the knives once, against the crate in front of me, carving through the thin metal easily.

Retracting the claws, I went to join the others.

Flag stopped me before I had a chance to enter the chopper with the rest of the crew.

“One last thing, Chess”, he said, and pulled out a strange looking harness, made out of some synthetic material and wires.

“What’s that?”, I asked, skeptically.

“This is an armed device, that will explode, should you decide to… smile, without being ordered to do so, by myself”.

I looked him, dumbfounded. “You’re gonna blow me up if I go invisible?”, I guffawed.

“No”, he answered. “I’ll blow that nano-bomb in your neck if you try to run away. This device will explode on it’s own, whenever its sensors recognize that you are using your powers”.

I shook my head, confused.

“If I’m not here to do that, then why am I here?”.

Flag used a strange key to unlock the harness.

“After what happened yesterday…” he started. I interrupted him.

“You mean when I didn’t run away?”, I spat.

He was unmoved by my exclamation.

“After what happened yesterday��, he repeated, “Waller seems to think it would be better if I take control of when you should… do your thing. You’ll be able to make things you touch invisible, as usual; but you cannot disappear yourself”.

He held up the newest addition to my outfit, to let me put it on.

“From now on, you will be wearing this whenever you are not in your cell. I can disarm the device at any time, for as long as I deem necessary”.

I stepped back, shaking my head.

“No”.

Flag frowned.

“Put it on”, he said, a slight edge to his voice.

“No”, I repeated, and crossed my arms in front of me.

Flag exhaled through his nose.

“Put it on, or I’ll put it on you myself”, he growled. I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrows at him.

“Is that a promise?”, I asked.

He raised his chin, and looked down at me.

“I can have one of GQs men do it”.

I ripped the harness from his hands, and begun to put it on; trying to figure out where each strap was supposed to go.

There were two straps, one going over each shoulder. One strap went around my torso, from my back to my front. Holding it all together, was one last strap, starting from my back, going down between my legs, and connecting with the others, on the middle of my chest.

Flag grabbed the straps in front of me, connecting them to a round disc, with a small red light in the middle. He tightened the harness as much as he could, making me bump against him; and locked the disc with the key.

“You go invisible; you die. You try to take it off; you die. You even think of trying to steal the key, guess what…”.

“I die?”, I jestered.

“You die”, he answered.

I tried to move around in the strange contraption.

“How am I supposed to pee in this?”, I asked angrily.

“We’ll climb that mountain when we get to it”, he answered, and turned his back to me, walking away.

“Old Fashioned”, I called after him. He turned around.

“What?”, he asked.

“If you’re gonna ride me this hard, it’s only polite to buy me a drink”, I said; turned my back to him, and walked away to join the squad.

---

Landing in St. Roch, our first destination was an old gas station just outside of town. It was abandoned by its owners; probably due to the explosions going off less than a mile away.

“You have your orders”, Flag called. “We go in discretely, locate our target, and take them out”.

“It’s probably going to be more complicated than that”, Diablo muttered next to me. Croc growled in agreement.

“You know, Flag, we’d probably be even more discrete, if you didn’t have Y/N here tied up like a Christmas ham”, Floyd smirked at him.

Flag frowned.

“This is Chess’ first mission. Let her find her legs before we throw her into it”, he said. “Let’s head out!”.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Harley said in a singsong voice, skipping past me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked.

Digger chuckled, and followed her.

“She means, he wants a gander at your map of Tassie”, he winked back at me, and took a swig of the can of beer he’d taken from one of the fridges in the small store.

I shook my head, and feeling a machinegun between my shoulders – I was just thrilled that the Tweedles had joined us on this little fieldtrip – I followed the rest of the group.

Sneaking past a checkpoint – Floyd taking out the inhabitants from afar – we made our way downtown.

I heard crying from behind a dumpster, and stopped to see what it was. A young woman was hiding behind it; shaking in fear.

“Are you ok?”, I asked, reaching a hand towards her.

“Chess!”, Flag called, from a few yards away. “Get your ass over here”.

“She might need help”, I said, and stepped towards the crying woman.

She recoiled from my touch.

“No! Please leave me alone!”, she cried.

Floyd came up behind me.

“She’s afraid of us, Chess”, he said. “Just leave her alone”. He went back to the group, who continued down the street, leaving me alone with Flag and the terrified woman.

I backed away from her, a lump in my throat. Turning around, I walked up to Flag, trying desperately to hold back tears. Behind me, I heard the woman get up, and run down the street, away from us.

I looked up at Flag.

“I wasn’t going to hurt her”, I said quietly.

“I know”, he said shortly. “But she doesn’t”. He made to touch my shoulder; but changed his mind, straightened his back, and turned around.

“Let’s go, kitten”.

We joined the others.

“That was quick”, Harley smiled. “It’s ok, colonel. It happens to all men”.

“Lady, I will rip your pigtails off with my bare hands”, he growled at her, stomping to the front of the group.

“Never happened to me”, Croc winked at Harley, who beamed back at him.

Another checkpoint. Digger took care of this one.

Huddling up behind a couple of cars, we finally saw our target. A lieutenant of Ra’s Al Ghul, who had been stirring up trouble, laying the groundwork for a new stronghold for his master. They had chosen to set up shop in the town square; having tied up a group of around 10 hostages to a statue in the middle.

Flag started barking orders in a hushed voice.

“Alright. Floyd, you got the roofs. Keep in radio contact”. It was clear he trusted Floyd more than the rest of the group.

“Croc, see that van? Make sure anyone in it, and in the immediate vicinity of it, don’t have the chance to warn the target”. Croc went down on all fours, and disappeared into a nearby shrubbery.

“Diablo and Digger. I want you on each side of that building. If they do spot us; I want you to bottleneck them into that alley”, he said, pointing in the direction he meant. “GQ, you and your men join them. One on the flame, two on boomer”. Digger scoffed at the nickname.

“Harley; I want you… actually you just do whatever it is you do, without giving the rest of us away”, he sighed at her.

“Sure thing, boss”, she mock-saluted him. “Go team!”.

“You got your orders. Go!”, he finished; and the group scattered, each to their assigned positions.

“What am I supposed to do?”, I asked, feeling slightly left over.

“You stay on me”, he answered, and looked through his binoculars.

A few minutes went by. Hearing a growl from the direction of Crocs assigned post, I saw blood spatter on the inside of the windows of the van.

I heard Harleys voice yelling; “Batter up!”, followed by a clank and a loud scream.

Some of the lieutenants soldiers began scrambling.

“Goddamnit, Quinn!”, Flag cussed. “You! Stay here!”, he growled at me, and ran in the direction of Harleys voice, leaving behind his binoculars. I picked them up, and looked through them.

In the square, the soldiers were rigging up chains and wires around the hostages. Connected to the wires were multiple red sticks I recognized from movies I’d seen. Dynamite.

I looked in the direction Flag had gone. He and Harley were arguing quietly behind a bus.

I looked back at the town square. Our target was walking back and forth in front of the hostages, ranting about something I couldn’t make out.

I tried zooming in with the binoculars. Military tech for the win, I thought, and looked through them again.

In his hand, the lieutenant was holding what seemed to be a tablet. Large numbers read 5:00. The bastard walked up to a teenage boy, who had a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest. He put his hand on his cheek, and said something to him, that made the boy break down in tears. He then pressed a button on the screen. The numbers began to count down.

4:59.

4:58.

4:57…

Fuck!, I thought, and threw the binoculars on the ground.

Reminded of my harness, I rolled my eyes. Ok. So I couldn’t smile. But I did know how to move quietly and quickly. I pulled up my hood, and closed my jacket.

I snuck forward. I heard a gunshot and a grunt behind me, and looked back; seeing an enemy soldier on the ground, a bullet hole right between his eyes. Thanks, Floyd, I smiled up at the roof of a nearby building, seeing Deadshots white hood disappear back into the darkness.

I moved forward again, hiding behind a truck. A stone landed on the ground next to me; and looking in the direction of the thrower, I saw Flag waving at me.

“Get back!”, he mouthed at me angrily. I shook my head, and looked towards the hostages. Continuing forward, I suddenly heard a beep. Looking down, I saw the light on the disc on my chest turn from red to green.

Looking back at Flag – his wrist raised, pushing some buttons on what looked like a watch – I smirked, and nodded at him. Thanks, I thought.

A purr moving through my body; I smiled.

Readying my claws, I ran towards the square. A soldier looked in my direction, having heard my movement, but unable to see me. Oops. Quietly now, I thought, and scaled a car next to him, making as little sound as I could.

I saw Digger and the Tweedles running towards a group of soldiers exiting a building. They finished them of quickly, but not before having drawn enough attention to make the lieutenant aware of their presence.

He yelled something I couldn’t I understand, and dropped the tablet he had been holding.

Gunfire sounded, and I ran faster, making my way to the group of hostages.

I reappeared, startling a few of the hostages who screamed at me.

Picking up the tablet from the ground, I desperately began pushing the screen, trying to make the countdown stop.

2:35.

2:34.

2:33…

There was no way I could stop the detonation.

I spun around, ran to the statue, and began pulling at the wires.

“You’ll make it go off!”, the teenage boy from before shouted at me.

I ran to the back of the statue, finding a simple lock, holding together the two ends of the chain intertwined with the wires.

This I can handle, I smiled, and got out my kit.

I managed to break two of the lockpicks, my hands shaking from the stress of the situation. I looked at the tablet on the ground.

1:01.

1:00.

0:59…

Taking a deep breath, I gave it one more try. Please, please, please!.

The lock opened.

I grabbed one end of the chain, and ran with it around the statue, releasing the hostages. The teenage boy carefully pulled at the tape that held the stick of dynamite to his chest, and put the red stick gingerly on the ground.

“Thanks!”, he smiled at me, and ran. I smiled after him.

An elderly woman was having trouble keeping up with the others.

0:37.

0:36.

0:35…

“Just go on”, she yelled at me.

“No!”, I answered, and ran to put her arm around my neck. Stumbling a few steps forward, the woman was suddenly lifted from the ground, screaming, as Croc – with a smile plastered across his gruesome face – ran to safety, the old woman hanging over his shoulder.

We did it!, I thought, and went to run after him.

Someone grabbed my leg, holding me in place. Looking down, I saw the lieutenant – a gash across his face, and a gunshot to his chest – laughing up at me. His strong hands were holding on to my leg, making it impossible for me to move.

I looked towards the group waiting for me at a safe distance. The hostages were continuing down the street, running towards sirens and blinking lights.

0:15.

0:14.

0:13…

Flag screamed something at me, Edwards and his soldiers holding him back.

I yanked at my leg, desperately trying to get the dying man to let me go.

0:09.

0:08.

0:07…

I lifted my fist and screamed; cutting through my captors arm. He let go with a yelp; and I ran.

0:03.

0.02.

0:01…

0:00.....

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn

[anxiouslymalicious]

Losers Club Plus One Part 11

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series 

Read the previous part here or go here for the full series masterlist!

A/N: Hiya there! It’s getting serious, we have reached the last hour of the movie! I am actually growing a little sad knowing that this long ass journey is going to end soon, but I also am kind of proud? Anyway, let’s enjoy this. My hometown is being put under lockdown, by the way, so I might feel quite bored quite often and throw out more content!

This part is about 3.2k words, just fyi. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, no, you’re staying out here.” Richie said as he noticed that his daughter was trying to follow the group. He was fumbling with something in his pockets, trying to find the car keys.

“What? No. There’s no way I’m letting you guys do this on your own.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms before her chest. Her cheeks grew warm with anger.

“There’s no way I’m letting you come with us.” Richie countered; stance equally determined.

“Richie…” Eddie started, only to be interrupted by Richie himself.

“No, don’t ‘Richie’ me. She’s not coming with us. Y/N is staying in the car where it’s safe.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be safer for her to come with us than to stay by herself in the car.” Eddie looked at Y/N, then over to the cars parked beside the street.

“I’ve told you before, it is not safe for us to split up. Y/N doesn’t even know how to drive in case she needs to get away, there is nothing for her to defend herself with once that fucking clown comes out. Staying in the car would literally be a death trap for her.” Eddie tried to argue with Richie who now looked twisted. The rest of the Losers looked on as they watched the heated discussion, not wanting to interfere. Each of them wanted the best and the best only for the littlest Loser, but what really was the best for her in that moment? Their minds travelled back to Stanley, how they saw him on the ground, his version of IT biting at his face, perhaps only mere moments from killing Stan. Did they really want that for Y/N? Did they want to risk that much? However, that first time, no one died. No matter how close. They got out of there once before, who said they couldn’t do that a second time?

“Eat a dick, Eddie.” Richie mumbled before averting his gaze to look at his daughter. The determination in her eyes was uncanny. Richie knew there was no stopping her.

“You won’t ever leave my side. You’ll stay with one of the Losers at all times. If I tell you to run and leave, you will. And don’t try to be a hero down there. And if you feel like anything’s too much for you, tell us and we’re gonna figure something out.”

Y/N nodded along to her father’s rules. She had to bite her lip to keep her tears at bay. Tears of uncertainty. No one knew what was truly ahead of them and there were no guessing games either. The Losers just hoped that at least one of them would see the daylight again.

Mike went back to the car to fetch the few flashlights he had thrown into the car before hurrying to catch up with Bill. He then proceeded to give them out to the Losers Plus One. One after another got their lights. Everyone except for Stanley. But in some way, Stan was still there. Maybe it was just a silly way of grief and remembering for Mike as he, with a heavy heart and deep sigh, gave the last flashlight to Y/N, but it seemed like the girl was Stan’s filler. Like there was a reason she managed to convince Richie to take her with him from LA back to Derry, into the mess they were met with. 

Y/N shivered when she really stepped into the building. It was like every last drop of happiness had been washed away, like she had been drained of her emotions, drained of what made her human. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. IT could attack them at any given moment. IT could come for them whenever. IT could be right around the corner.

Out in Derry, Y/N had felt like she was running around with a target on her head. She was in a town she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everyone could have been Pennywise in disguise, as far as she knew. But now, they had entered IT’s home. The place IT knew better than anyone else. The place IT resided and killed children in. The odds of beating IT, whatever IT even was, were slim and Y/N had figured out just that. Basically, all of them were a delicious meal, presenting itself on a plate for IT.

Y/N followed the adult Losers she had grown to trust around the house, staying especially close to Richie. But she couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was keeping an extra close eye on her. Just in case.

Wood creaked below their feet, a low hum echoed through the room with the wind whistling through the cracks and broken windows. Suddenly, a new sound caught her attention. A sound that didn’t fit the picture. A sound that sounded so foreign, it was terrifying. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N breathed out as she took a step back, never having seen anything like that before. But none of the Losers seemed to be weirded out by some black lava randomly seeping out of the wood, followed by a hissing sound of burning wood. Each one of the Losers seemed tense, but a strange sense of calmness accompanied their characters. Y/N felt lost. Because she felt distanced from the Losers. Not so much physically, but more mentally.

“Well, I love what he’s doing with the place.” Richie said as he watched the mass spread.

“Peep-peep, Richie.” Beverly said, voice unimpressed with the humour Richie still tried to bring up, despite the seriousness of the situation. Y/N felt a shiver running down her spine, shaking through her body, as she unconsciously tried to get closer to the Losers. Nothing she saw was right. It wasn’t natural, or so it seemed, and it made her head swim. She felt like she was thrown straight into a horror movie and was made to live there, fight her way through. It was terrifying as she didn’t know what would happen next, where she had to go, but the worst was the unknowingness of the moment, the uncertainty if any of them would ever see the sunlight again. If any of their lungs would ever be filled with the fresh, unused and clean air they were met with outside. If any of them would even be able to breathe still after this night or if they would all lose their lives.

“I’ve got to keep that one in mind. Maybe that’ll shut him up on the flight back home.” Y/N replied, hoping to ease some of her own tension the way her father always does. Successfully so, with the chuckle that escaped Ben’s lips, she did feel a little lighter on her feet. She felt some of the hopelessness melting away. She felt a little warmth in her chest.

Bill walked before the rest of the group. Slowly at first, but he seemed to be impatient, every step he took was quicker than the last. Y/N watched him go, not knowing if what he did was something conscious, something he himself wanted to do, if he knew where to go or if it was IT somehow forcing him. How, she didn’t know, but Y/N was sure IT had more tricks up his clown-costume sleeve than any of them would like to know.

Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Dust swirled in the air, straining Y/N’s airways. The air was thick with what Y/N felt might be the smell of decay, old blood, maybe even faeces. She had no idea what she had yet to encounter, but the smell that tested her gag reflexes already didn’t give her much hope of a fair game.

For a second, she let her mind wander. She wondered how many people had been taken by IT. How many children had been led to their death with promises meant to be broken and false hopes of things they would never receive? Y/N let her mind wander, far enough to not notice that they had split into two groups, one of them distancing themselves from the other quite rapidly.

Ben suddenly groaned. Throaty, filled with pain. Heads whipped around. Before Y/N was even able to comprehend what was happening, Bev had already called out to him, a worried yell of his name. Something about the way her voice carried itself made her sound like she was already expecting the worst. And she wasn’t wrong with that.

Y/N looked around, head frantically whipping from side to side, only being able to locate Bev, Ben and Mike. Yelling echoed through the abandoned house, she heard Bill yelling for them, she heard Eddie and her father. Fists banging against a door. And she saw Ben sinking to his knees. His hands pressed to his stomach, trying to find a source of pain. Y/N rushed towards Ben, holding onto his right arm alongside Beverly, who felt panic take over as she watched how Ben’s white shirt gained blood red stains.

Somewhere down the hall, Bill was yelling for Ben. Y/N heard their voices clear and loudly and she felt how her feelings were twisted. She felt the need to run to the other Losers, stick with her father and the person who might as well become her stepfather, but she didn’t want to let Ben down. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his suffering.

 Mike joined the two women as Ben lowered himself to the ground, screams of agony leaving his lips, shaking the Losers to their core, breaking their hearts and making their stomachs churn. Ben pulled up his shirt, revealing streaks of blood, open wounds as something none of them could see dragged along his stomach, leaving deep cuts.

Bev yelled as Ben watched his stomach being torn apart with wild eyes, too many bad memories, too much fear bubbling up in him. He was reminded of the pure hatred, the insanity in Bowers’ eyes as he cut into Ben’s stomach that one fateful summer, the cuts that pained him so much physically, but even more mentally. The wound that would taunt him until he left the town and far beyond that. A scar that never really let him go.

Y/N cringed as she watched, before she jumped up, looking for the clown in a panicked daze. She didn’t notice how she was running around, looking for something that might give away his location. It happened naturally, her instincts took over. But if there was one thing Y/N knew about the clown by now, it was that it had a preference when it came to attacks. It would use their fears against them. Now she was left to figure out what could scare Ben.

She turned to look at Ben, the carvings on his stomach now read ‘HOME AT LA’, new lines appearing on Ben’s stomach with every second. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on the mirror. She saw their huddled up figures. In her state, she almost didn’t notice the white face added to the group.

“The mirror!” Y/N yelled out as she watched IT happily torture Ben, the words on his stomach being completed as IT was ready to move for the kill. The kill IT had been dreaming of, the thing IT had waited 27 years for. The first out of eight kills that would finally give it the satisfaction and peace IT had craved for years. Ever since those kids came across IT for the first time.

Neither Y/N nor Bev really thought as they acted. Both acted on instinct, taking the first hard object they could find and smashing it against the mirror. It shattered into what looked and felt like a million pieces as the girls tried to shield their faces from the sharp shards flying around the room, whipping around to look at Ben.

The pent up adrenaline left their bodies quickly, a heavy weight being lifted off their chests as they spotted Ben’s now free-of-cuts abdomen and neck. Y/N’s relief, however, was quick to dissipate though, as the screams of the three men that walked ahead reached her ears.

She ran faster than she thought her legs could carry her towards what her ears told her was the source of the screams until she was met with closed doors.

“Dad! DAD!” Y/N yelled as she hammered against the door with her fists. Tears blurred her vision, a sharp pain shooting from her balled fists through her whole arm as she tried to get into the room, trying to get to her father who was screaming for help.

“Richie!” Mike yelled, followed by Ben and Bev as the trio ran after the girl who now threw herself against the door in hopes of getting it to open up. The wood finally gave in. Eddie was standing in a corner. Shaking his head. Face contorted with fear. Bill was screaming. For a knife. Richie was begging for help. A knife. Where? She saw it. Glistening in the low light.

Suddenly, the spider-head trying to kill Richie stopped its movement. Bill looked up in shock. Y/N held the knife tightly in her hands, the blade pushed into the head. Her knuckles were white, fingers laced tightly around the blade like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

In a fit of rage, she pulled the knife out of the head only to ram it back in. Over and over and over again. Five, six, seven times. She wasn’t met with any resistance, nothing to stop her from letting out the anger and frustration and hatred she felt towards the thing that would forever have an impact on her life.

It wasn’t until Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back that she stopped. If it was up to Y/N, she would have continued to stab the thing until it wasn’t more than a pile of mush on the ground. Despite the nausea and the guilt that filled her, ate away at her. Despite the dirty feeling on her skin as she tried to end a life. Despite the burning in her brain and in her heart, both of them yelling at her to stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to do just that. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t rest. Not until revenge had been served. Not until justice found its way to make things right again. Even though she knew that things wouldn’t be right again. What she saw wasn’t something to forget. What they had said and done wasn’t something to shrug off.

“Y/N, it’s enough. Richie’s alright.” Ben whispered to the girl in his arms as he pulled her away and tried to push her head in his chest, hoping to shield her sight. From what exactly, Ben wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to have her see IT get away with what it had done. Maybe he wanted her to just focus on him to calm down. Or maybe he was scared that some of the anger she was able to let out would rebound onto Richie and Ben hoped to prevent that. All he knew was that it felt right to hug his Loser-niece tightly as the rest of the group tried to catch their breath.

“Is everybody okay?” Bev asked as she dropped to her knees beside Richie who was coughing and sputtering with Bill still leaning over him. She pulled off her jacket to wipe whatever the slime was that IT had left on Richie’s face away.

Bill was now the one to feel the rage. Storming towards Eddie, he only had one thing in his mind. Anger burned hot inside his mind and his chest as he pushed Eddie back to the wall.

“He could have f-f-f-fucking died, man. You k-know that, right?” Bill screeched at Eddie, voice coarse with disbelief. Eddie’s gaze travelled from Bill, Big Bill, who now seemed more intimidating than ever, over Richie who was being cared for by Bev, to Y/N, still in Ben’s arms, as he and Mike tried to provide comfort and maybe just the smallest sense of calmness. She was shaking, shivering, as she watched her father, seemingly zoned out with a few stray tears on her cheeks.

“Georgie’s dead. The k-kid’s dead. Stan-Stanley’s dead. Y-you want Richie too?” Bill couldn’t help himself as he screamed, the fear settling in him, he felt intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in. None of them wanted to be back there, none of them wanted to face IT again, but Bill was the one who had the hardest time. He was the cause of their misery. He was the cause of Georgie’s death. And Stan’s. And the kid’s. He couldn’t bear the guilt of another Loser, one of the people closest to him, to lose their life for his cause. And especially not the only Loser who had a child of their own to take care of.

As Bill kept screaming the words ‘You want Richie too?’, all Eddie could do was shake his head, eyes not meeting Bill’s as he whispered his reply. “I don’t. I don’t want Richie too. I don’t, I don’t.”

When Bill’s shouting ceased, the room filled with heavy breaths and quiet, the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking as Y/N crawled towards her father, embracing him tightly. Finally, Eddie managed to look at Bill, properly look at him.

“Please don’t be mad, Bill.” Eddie was close to begging as he felt hot tears fill his eyes to the brim, threatening to spill over at any given moment. “I was just scared.”

And at that moment, they all noticed. Eddie’s eyes were still the same. It was Eddie Spaghetti Bill was yelling at. Not Edward Kaspbrak, the successful Risk Analyser. It was Big Bill yelling, not Bill Denbrough, the bestselling author.

“That- that’s what he w-w-wants, right?” Bill asked, realisation dawning in him, the Losers and their Plus One. Y/N watched Eddie and Bill with cold eyes, a broken heart. She almost felt betrayed by Eddie. The man who had told her that he loved her father, had feelings for him in the least, who couldn’t step up and save him when no one else was available. She almost lost the only person who had stayed with her through everything, the man who felt like home. And she couldn’t forget. Hurt was deeply implanted in her chest and in her head as Richie held onto her for dear life.

“Don’t- don’t give it to him.” Bill finished, taking his hands off Eddie who now sobbed, almost not more than a quiet gasp, as he realised that his lack of actions could have led to the death of his love. And it pained him, even more, to know that it had taken him more than 27 years and he still didn’t have the balls to even think of Richie as more than a crush. Deep down, Eddie longed to be in Richie’s warm embrace, he cherished every joke Richie cracked, no matter how insulting, maybe even especially when insulting. Richie made his heart flutter, his palms sweaty. And even the thought of losing Richie to death scared Eddie so much that his body went frigid, ice cold. He froze. He was petrified. But he couldn’t tell. Not Richie, not Y/N. Not now. Not when they both looked at him, disbelief clear in their faces, eyes cold with hatred.

Only, they weren’t. But Eddie didn’t know.

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!) @whereyoustand @bellero @shockwavee @daniellajocelyn @robindoesntloveme @halefirewarrior  @ucy161 @captainshazamerica @catscrochet @gabiatthedisco @strangemaximoff @robynel @the-summer-of-39 @sammy-salamander @majorlyextra @im-justafangirl @bohemiancrue @weebishtae @nobody7102 @creativedogs @sirenjules @littlemaeve @precious-bands-love @darth-dorle @zigabrielle @ggclarissa @bat-shark-repellant @zoemassingale @avengerswon @artlovingbre  @supernovavision @eggytozier​ @eeemmiillyyy @russian-romanova​ @isweareverythingsalright​ @supernatural3002​ @intoomuchfandoms​ @detroitbecomevenom​ @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch​ @keeley-virgo​ @deviantly-gayy​ @thedragonofgallifrey @sycard​ @sassy-specter​ @psychosupernatural​ @jerkyheree-michaelm3ll @chros-nomsworth @princesskhy @chocolatecakeandme​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @transparentaliencookiehoagie​ @danas-wonderland​ @paige-howell-lester​ @1800kaspbrak​ @donteatmycookiesplease​ @im-justafangirl​ @finalfemm​ @tozierskaspb​ @afictionaladventure16​ @morgan-macguire​ @niallisworld​ @sp00kymonthenthusiast @blancastans​ @delicately-important-trash​ @blue-paradise-girl @im-a-rocketman​ @emiliesnowflake​ @peachysinnermon​ @whatsupsherl0ck​ @wheezy-kasp-brak​ @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @ilovetaquitosmmmm @markiismoo​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @oisek-si @itsarandomsparkle​ @queen-fam​ @antivscogirl @fear-epidemic​ @burner-cell​ @cait-elizabeth​ @kind-sober-and-fully-dressed-99 @srtafarrell​ @opalof @x0softxgirl0x @cocastyle​ @themagicianssister​ @adritozier​ @the-almost-perfect-username @edwardspaghedwardtozier​ @attractiveugly​ @cait-scribbles​ @bethanyb1110​ @the-almost-perfect-username @spacelesbianfanclub​ @alisoncdariel​ @pinklyrium​ @leetaemintrashnumber1​ @tozierwheelerwolfhard @stress-and-obsess​ @httpstannie​ @purple-brainstorm​ @bitch-imma-head-out @sleepygal124​ @mellorine-paprika​ @im-an-assho1e​ @vergassdottir @brooke1419​ @shherlxck​ @lauren-novak @increasinglygeeky​ @babyyydalis​ @hotgod-amess​ @queen1054​ @raintoray @frenchiefightingman @70sgubler​ @ccidk​ @baconstripstripper​ @thunderkick44​ @spiralingtoinsanity​ @lcvsbts​ @nerds4life246​

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier x daughter!reader #losers club x reader #losers club plus one #it chapter 2 x reader #richie tozier x daughter reader #richie tozier fanfic #dad!richie tozier #adult losers club #adult losers club x reader #LCPO #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 2 fic #ben hanscom x reader #bill denbrough x reader #beverly marsh x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #daughter!reader #losers club x daughter!reader #IT movie #richie tozier #richie tozier fanfiction #losers club

[akvtsuki-ari]

A Study In Body Language: v. love is a virtue

Warnings: smut! unprotected sex, mild angst, but other than that mostly fluffy. 

Length: 6.5k

Authors Note: holy shit yall. we did it. 25000 words, 5 chapters and a whole lot of emotional turmoil, we fuckin did it. i will be writing an epilogue for this story but for now, here it is - a study in body language. hope yall have enjoyed this wild ride 

Plot Summary: Spencer realizes how deep he’s fallen, and reads something that changes his plans of confession. Love is beautiful, apparently. 

Link to the song mentioned: 1000 Times by Sara Bareilles 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

He overhears you in the bullpen. You’re not sad when you talk about it, and maybe he was a little too hopeful to hear you clearly but you sounded relieved. He hopes you’re relieved but he doesn’t know how to deal with that feeling. He doesn’t feel sorry for himself but he could drown in the relief when you say you broke up with Jay. A weight off of his shoulders, off of his consciousness. For a moment he wasn’t so damn restless. You were single but he doesn’t know what that changed. Everything felt different, shit everything was different. The world that he’d come to know was shattered underneath the weight of this feeling. 

“Why’d you two break up?,” JJ asks. She’s curious, but Spencers hanging on your voice for the answer. His whole body relaxes. You pause, maybe you’re shrugging. 

“I don’t know - I think we both realized that this wasn’t gonna be long-term but we’ll always be cool. He’s a really good guy, but we have different wants, I think,” you say casually. You don’t sound sad. 

“You don’t seem upset,” Prentiss comments. Spencers happy he’s not delusional. 

“I’m not. The whole thing was really mutual and I loved him but not as anything more than friends really and he feels the same so I’m okay,” You say casually. He doesn’t hear much else, so he walks away before you can turn the corner and see him. 

Rain beats on the windows when Spencer walks away. It’s been raining for days now, the darkness seemed to be encompassing but it was nice. Spencer liked rain, watching it when he needed to think and it seems like he was having to do that more often these days. Rain wasn’t somber to Spencer, as much as it was a sobering reminder. Rain made him think of you, but most things did so he isn’t sure if it’s any deeper than that. Everything made Spencer think of you. 

Spencer couldn’t stop himself from thinking of you. It was a crushing realization that you were in love with someone and that you would do anything to make them happy. It was always apart of him, he couldn’t catch a break without being reminded of how much he adored you. Things continued as normal but he was working hard to make sure of that. He didn’t want to lose you, or hurt you so he tried so hard to make sure things were okay, even if it killed him slowly. He wanted to call you his, because in his heart of hearts, he wanted you to think of him as yours. Spencer was overwhelmed every time he saw you because it was you. You were you and he’d give you everything if you asked for it. He would rob the stars in the sky for you, he would steal the sun for you to keep, he would do anything to make you happy. That realization was crushing and Spencer was unsure if you had any clue.

__

The work day passes normally. Everyone was ready to go home, though some of the team wanted to hang at O’Keefes for a drink but you and Spencer passed. They all gave each other knowing looks, that Spencer became aware of when he realized he liked you. You still seemed clueless, and that was a scary enough thought. Spencer just flushed as he sees everyone walk out to the elevator, leaving you and him alone for the night. 

“Any special plans, Spence?,” you ask Spencer, fiddling with the strap of your bag as you two waited for the next elevator to come. Spencer shakes his head, looking at your stance and smiling. The bag was too big for you, clearly too heavy on your shoulders but he knew you’d never get rid of it. It was a thing about you he’d picked up from before. 

“Not really, no. Might go home and watch some TV, though I don’t know what,” Spencer replies thoughtfully. You nod in understanding, letting out a huff of frustration as you let go of your bag problem. Spencer just chuckles as he stands in front of you, fixing up the buckle before the strap. You look up at him with a grateful grin, and he feels his heart pound. Love, love, love on his mind when he looks at you. He feels a bit sick, but he figures it’s a symptom that seems to swallo him. 

You wrap your arms around Spencer and lay your face in his chest.He wonders if you can hear how hard his heart is pounding but it doesn’t seem like you notice. You nuzzle into him, and it seems to be so subconscious for you. He wants to ask himself if this was friends did but he knew better - this was too complicated for such simple questions. He hugs you back, taking a breath and you pull away and look up at him. His eyes are a pretty green, spots of brown speckling them but they look hazel in the light. You’d see them sometimes when he woke up and they’d fall under the sunlight. You always liked them and maybe you look too long, so you pull away. Spencer wishes you didn’t but the moments gone before he can protest. 

The elevator dings. The doors both open as the two of you travel down together. Spencer wants to offer you some company but he can’t tell himself too when he knows his own intentions. 

____

Spencer was alone. It was the wordless night that seemed to eat at him, even though the clock had only barely scraped by to 11. Lately, Spencer doesn’t have trouble sleeping but it seems like that would change soon. Thoughts of you were cocoon his thoughts. He felt so stuck, because he wants to tell you how he feels - but the risk is too great. Too much of a burden to bear because he has no clue about how you feel. He assumes you don’t return those feelings but if you did -  he wasn’t sure if anything would change. That reality is far more crushing than not knowing at all. 

One thing Spencer did when he was thinking of you was read your letters to him. Those letters were more important for his sanity than he wanted to admit. You told him of everything, gave him daily reminders of why he needed to see the world again. Your return was more than waited on, but prayed for. A selfless act in self-preservation on your behalf, and a brave one on Spencers. 

The first letter dates a few weeks after Spencer was in rehab. You’re so different in writing, maybe more honest because you aren’t thinking so much. Spencer doesn’t know how to explain it but he likes the way you write. 

Dear Genius, 

Congrats on a whole 3 weeks!! I’m so proud of you, and I’m happy to hear you like group therapy. I loved your clown painting, by the way and I want it framed for my apartment ASAP - seriously I had no clue you were so good at art. I also want pictures of when you guys have group therapy with those service dogs because that is so cute!!! Excited for the next letter just for that. 

Updates on my life are pretty boring but you asked so I’ll deliver. My dad is doing okay right now. We’ve talked a lot and he’s sorta mulled over my chilhood and apologized about well… all of it. It was a bit much, to be honest but thats okay. I’ll get through it, especially when I have these letters to look forward too. I met someone sorta too, he’s from DC but he moved into my neighborhood. He’s nice, but who knows, you know? 

Also, you told me to keep sending you new music to listen too, but honestly I just wanna send you radio hits. You should listen to The-Weeknd, maybe Starboy? I mostly just wanna see how you feel about stuff people listen to on the car radio haha. I don’t know, but either way, hope you like the song. 

Anyways, I love you and I’m looking forward to our next correspondence. Good luck always, and keep yourself strong. 

Best Wishes,

Y/N 

Spencer smiles big. The kind of smile that reaches the lines in his eyes and makes his whole body relax. He replies with what you ask for, he remembers. He had a picture of him with an Australian Shepherd from therapy that you framed and put on your desk. He remembers how much you liked it, though he wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t sent you the clown painting yet because it seemed to slip his mind but he reminds himself to give it to you. He looks through more letters, reading the different one-sided exchanges. He reads your weekly updates about the community mural that you painted with all the kids while you were back home. He reads about the different volunteers, and how your childhood friend who you lost touch with had moved back and had a baby. Her name was Ellie, and you loved her. He comes across the letter where your dad passed away, only a month into your trip. 

Dear Spencer, 

Hey kid. I’m happy to hear about your progress!! I know it’s been tough because you’ve hit that middle slump but I know you. I know you’ll get through, it just takes time and you’re doing great keeping your head above water. I love you and I’m so proud of you, you’re gonna go far. 

I know I sound different here, it’s because my dad passed away last night. He passed quietly, stubborn bastard. I cried, more than I was expecting. He’s the last person of blood who would claim me as family and he just sorta disappeared. It’s just weird, how little i seem to feel. I was sad but it was weird, more emptying than anything but in a fucked up way I was relieved. I don’t know. I suppose it’s complicated

It made me think of you, in a weird way, I guess. You told me to send you music and I guess this is my indirect way of telling you stuff, but you should listen to 1000 times by Sarah Barielles. I don’t really know what to make of it but thanks for being a good friend and I’m grateful for what we have as friends always. You’re a good person, Spencer. 

Anyways, let me know if anything changes and good luck next week. I miss you, but I know we’ll see eachother again soon and things will be good. Keep sending me pictures of Dianes cat also because she’s so cute and I love her. Thanks for everything. 

Love always, 

Y/N 

 Spencer looks at the song you sent. He normally listens to every single one but that week he had already used up all of his computer time to read the articles from your local newspaper and he never got a chance too after that. He figures now was a good time, always having a piece of you when he got that music. Even if the song wasn’t his style, it made him think of you and for him that was most than enough. It was a blessing in a lot of ways to have a part of you that only he knew of. It was music anyone could listen to but the meaning was his alone. Spencer opens up his laptop and types in the song title. He presses play, awaiting whatever pop ballad you had waiting for him

Then the lyrics start to play and Spencer feels sick,” 

“Again again I let it go, let it go/ Cover my mouth don't let a single word slip/ Out wouldn't wanna tell you, no tell you, no/ Nothing could be worse than the risk of/ Losing what I don't have now,” 

Shit. 

Spencers heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He feels like he’s going to die, and he doesn’t know how else to explain this feeling of detriment. You told Spencer you loved him a full month before he even realized how far deep he was and he just… didn’t acknowledge it. Spencer wanted to throw up, every visceral feeling of panic banging on the inside of his chest and threatens to crush his heart under the weight. Spencer could feel it in his throat, as he scrambles to find his phone your contact, dialing your number as he feels the drum of his heartbeat. His fingers shake as he hears you pick up on the other side.

“Hello?,” 

Your voice makes Spencer ache. Spencer breathes out, unable to speak for a few seconds. You look confused on the other side of the phone. 

“Spencer?,”

Your voice is all Spencer hears yet your words feel distant. His voice is abysmal and small when he speaks - the words trapped in the maze of thoughts, unable to be expressed correctly. Spencer coughs before he talks, trying to clear his airways even though nothing was really wrong. 

“Are you home and are you busy?,” Spencer asks, tears threatening to run down his face before his voice can give out 

“I’m home but I’m not busy, why? Is everything okay? ,” Panic is subtle in your voice, Spencer swallows thickly. 

“Yeah, yeah - I’m okay. Can I come over?,” Spencer asks, voice quiet. 

“Of course, Spencer. See you soon, and drive safe - the weather is still bad so you gotta be careful,” you say warmly. 

“Yeah, of course. See you soon,” Spencer replies. The line clicks and Spencer stares into his phone. He picks his care keys up and puts on a jacket, knowing he’d still get caught up in the rain. 

____

The rain is heavier than it was before. It was late, the clock reads 11:45  and Spencer can’t see much as water spills from the grey clouds that hung over his head. It was peaceful, almost. When you ignore the feeling of imminent panic and anxiety that washes over him, the rain is soothing to his ears as heavy as it. Spencer hands around the steering wheel are gripped tight enough to make the pads of his fingers white. His skin is hot, chest covered in a light sheen of sweat as he thinks of what's going to happen when he gets there - or moreso, if anything has happened. Spencer's thoughts are deafened by his own uncertainty - he owes it to you to tell you but if it’s too late for him he may never come back from that. He needed to tell you because you deserved to know but the thought of nothing happening hurts him. He’d rather you didn’t know but that’s not fair.

Spencer's thoughts of your ex-boyfriend pop up and he feels guilty. He’s tearing himself to pieces finding every reason in the world not to tell you, but he had to make the right choice because you were braver than he could ever be. He wants to show you he’s changed and that he won’t run from this. He refused to run from you. 

His hands shake when he knocks. His hair is wet and the water seems to soak through parts of his old jacket. He looked like a mess he was sure but it didn’t matter. Spencer was so anxious, he doesn’t remember the last time he ever felt this anxious. 

When you open the door with a smile - that’s when Spencer knows you were the love of his life. He just looked at you, looks at you with sunken eyes that flit over your face with a feeling you can’t explain. Spencer needed you, maybe more than you needed him. 

“Hey, Spencer,” You say warmly. Spencer walks inside and you close the door behind him. He looks at you for a second, taking his jacket off as he just looks to you in silence. He wants to spit the words out, he wants to say them so the two of you can get caught up together. Spencer wants to be yours, and for you to be his and then some. Spencer loves you. 

“What’s up?,” you ask quietly, seating yourself next to Spence whose found himself a spot on the couch. You grab his hands and play with his fingers for a few seconds, the touch is just so damn intimate. You loved Spencer, so much more than you could explain. You had that little anxious bubble in your chest about what could happen - that ‘maybe’ that brought you so many restless nights. You wondered if today was the day but before you go to dismiss the thought, you feel Spencers hands under your chin. He lifts your face up, eyes examining your face carefully. His scruff was nice, he looked different than before. 

Before you can ask, Spencer kisses you. It’s out of character, and in many ways out of place for him. He’s not the type to kiss anyone out of the blue but he doesn’t know else to break the tension with any language other than physical. It's the way his lips melt to yours, the way you kiss him back immediately, the way his lips have a way of holding yours. The way his hands hold your face up. It was everything that made you remember that Spencer was fucking kiss you. Kissing you like he was the reason he was breathing. Curled around your very existence, with his lips giving you their every secret. This kiss was an exchange in secrets, but more than an assurance. Spencer kisses you, and you kiss him back and the whole universe is still. 

When Spencer pulls away, you’re more than speechless. You look at Spencer, looking in his eyes for regret and you find none. Solace, maybe but no regret. You just look down, too scared to look at him again but he stops you, lifting your face up again. 

“Don’t hide from me please,” Spencer croaks “I need to look at you,” 

“Why?,” 

“To make sure you’re real,” Spencers confession makes your body heat up. 

“What’s gotten into you?,” you laugh nervously. You think Spencer will follow in suit, going back to being silly with you like normal but he doesn’t falter. He holds both of your hands and looks down, your eyes still fixated on him. Spencer sighs. 

“I read your letter, from when your dad died. I never had a chance to listen to that song, but I did. I normally did but that one somehow managed to miss me and..,” he trails off, like his thoughts are moving too fast for him to say what he wants to. You swallow thickly. So he knows, you figure. 

“It’s okay if you don’t, you know, return those feelings,” your voice chokes out. Spencer laughs. 

“You’d be a fool to think something like that,” Spencer says earnestly. You choke a little violently. 

“Oh?,” 

Spencer turns to look at you again. His eyes are full of something, and this time you know the feeling. You give it to him often, that look of adoration That “You’re so stupid, please marry me,” look you give to the person you want to love most in this life. 

“My whole life, I couldn’t afford to believe in anything related to destiny. I didn’t believe in miracles, or destiny, or a lot of other things for a long time. Sometimes I still don’t, like when cases go so bad that the whole team is left with that hollow feeling,” Spencer starts “I try my best to remember joy and happiness, and sometimes I do believe in miracles but it’s not everyday. Sometimes the pain was just too heavy,” 

“When I started taking dilaudid again, I was just trying to cope with the pain. My life can feel like a series of unfortunate events sometimes,” Spencer says softly. The grip he has on your hands tightens just a little bit. 

“I’ve been wanting to give you this confession for weeks, but like always you’ve proved to be more brave than I could ever be. Of course you figured it out first, who could be surprised but,” Spencer pauses for a second. 

“You’re the love of my life. Maybe it’s too much to say right now, maybe enough time hasn’t passed for me to decide that but if I said anything less I’d be lying to you, and I don’t want to lie to you ever again,” Spencers voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Y/N, you’re the only woman I could ever love this much. Those two months, those words that you gave me are what kept me sane. It was thoughts of your voice and your touch that kept me alive. It was your kindness that gave me strength, your love that gave me courage. It was you that reminded me of what it feels like to have hope, and perhaps even believe in miracles and destiny,” Spencers crying and so are you, but you still managed to hold eachother. 

“I’m wholly in love with you. I really don’t know how to say anything else. Please be mine because for now, loving you is all I really want to do,” Spencer says the last part with a small voice. The butterflies in your stomach make it hard for you to speak and you’re crying so much you have a headache. You want to kiss him, and say something back but for now you’re just crying a little bit. You’d clear all the grey clouds in the world to give Spencer some sunshine. 

“It’s always been you, dickhead,” you say through giggles. Spencer loves the sound of your laugh, if he could he would bottle up and keep it for himself to wear around his neck. Spencer wants to wear your name around your neck so the whole world knew he was yours and you were his. 

You can’t hold yourself back from moving into Spencer's lap, bare thighs over his legs as you lean into his neck. You adored Spencer and you knew that for so long, but you always figured he didn’t feel the same. That song was your confession, and when he didn’t listen you always figured he didn’t feel it. Miscommunication is a hell of a drug, you figure. You were here now, wrapped in Spencer and more than ready to give him all of you. You adored Spencer, the way his mind worked full of cogs and his heart was full of affection. It was everything Spencer did when he was getting better, giving you purpose. Spencer made you feel at ease, always. Even when bad things seemed to swallow you up, Spencer gave you ease. 

You look up at Spencer, there are small tears in your eyes when you do. You straddle his lap, and kiss him again. Holding your waist, Spencer smiles. He’s so grateful to be touching you like this. Spencer wants all of you to himself and he’d be damned if he was selfish for it. 

“Spencer,” your voice is small, but happy. Spencer hums, wrapped up in the way the two of you kiss for him to be upset. You look up at him, into him in the way only you can and speak again. 

“Make love to me,” your question is quiet. Spencer immediately became a little unsteady but he understood your request. That term “make love,” used to gross you out but you got it now. Sex and love are different - but sometimes you used sex to make love. To feel someone so close to you like that, you wanted to make love with Spencer. You wanted to have marks all over your skin so that the sight of him could be there forever, and for him to fuck you like you were the only thing he needed. Spencer wanted to make you feel wanted, and you wanted him to want you all the same. So, Spencer smiles, places a hand on boths sides of your face and kisses you slowly. Spencer loves you, adores you and wants to make you feel beautiful. 

“You wanna go to your room?,” Spencer asks. You nod, and Spencer lifts you up before carrying you. You’re wrapped around him, yelping at his surprising strength. 

Spencer lays you down, eyes glassy as he looks at your figure. He’s admiring you - he wants to make you feel pretty. You’re the prettiest woman in the world to him, and all he wants to do is make you feel it. He leans into you, his body pressed to yours as your legs are tangled. Spencer always cradles your face when he kisses you, as if he’s trying to hold you as close to him as possible. Spencer treats you like glass, his touch an ink stain leaving your body with permanent color as he kisses you. His tongue pushes past your lips softly, before pulling back. His fingers are so nimble, tugging with the sides of your shirt, staving himself off as he feels your bare thighs. 

His mouth moves to your neck, peppering kisses along the sides of the column of your throat. He grips your thighs, feeling your wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer. Spencer tugs at the ends of your shirt, detaching from you so you can get it off. He chokes at the sight of you without your top on and you can’t help but hide your face. Spencer's face leans in, taking your nipple in his while he uses his free hand to gently brush against the other one. 

“You’re beautiful, you look so good like this,” Spencer comments. A soft whine escapes your lips at the combination of words and Spencers touch. He was sweet with every movement but damn he had way too many clothes on. 

“Spence, take it off,” you whine. Spencer gives you a small laugh, taking off his shirt before hovering over you again. His body was surprisingly toned from being out in the field and you definitely weren’t upset about seeing it. Your hands find their way around his waist, touching his skin in appreciation. He gives you a shy smile, before his head ducks down again, moving to kiss down past your breasts to your stomach and above your naval. His kisses are gentle, mouth careful in leaving them in as many places as possible. He stops when he ghosts his mouth over your panties, placing a kiss on your vulva - a wet spot formed on the light color. Spencer moves to kiss your thighs, getting close to your center and taking his time with it. Small hickies take place all along your skin, Spencer wanted to mark the word “mine,” into your skin with his mouth. He wanted you to think of him always, but especially when you were doing this. 

Your breaths are staggered and heavy, as Spencer rubs you down with his hands - palms massaging your legs as he touched you. For the first time in your life, when someone touched you could feel how much they meant it. Maybe it’s because Spencer manages to make things you’ve felt before feel different - he makes everything feel better. 

Spencer slides your panties down your legs carefully. His eyes are low when he sees your clit, sensitive and aching for his attention. He places a kiss on it first before he sticks his tongue out flat for you. Your fingers grip his hair immediately, legs wrapped around his shoulders where you could see him shift his weight to unzip his jeans and get himself off which only worked you up farther. Spencer eats you out like he’s been starved of you his whole life, head rhythmic as he brings you to your orgasm and slows down. He’s making an attempt to savor you but enjoys the sound of irritation you make every time he stops, something he’d explore farther at a later date. You’d gotten head before but it always came off as a favor and not like your partner wanted to do it for you. Spencer made sure you knew he wanted just as much as you did. 

You orgasm in Spencer mouth twice in borderline succession as Spencer refuses to pull away, smiling as he holds your hips down and makes your whole body shiver. You have to catch your breath when he finally spares you and gives you a toothy-boyish grin of satisfaction that you only ever saw when he beats you in a card game. You look down at him adoringly, wanting to cry at how lucky you felt. You pull him to kiss you and he looks at you for a second - a questioning one since he just had his tongue inside you. You roll your eyes in a “duh, that’s the point way,” and Spencer swallows thickly. 

“Do you want me to return the favor? Because I’m more than happy too,” you say reaching for his dick, which twitched at your touch. Spencer shakes his head. 

“Not right now, wanna focus on you tonight,” Spencer replies. You look at him with the most affectionate puppy dog eyes and Spencer bursts out into full giggles. God, he loved you. 

“Can I?,” Spencers question is tentative, and all you do in response is open your legs up wider for him and give him a nod. You mouth a “please,” to him and Spencer just smiles, kissing you softly. 

Spencer stretches you out so fucking good. He’s careful, whispering pretty nothings about how beautiful you are and how lucky he was. The words were only fuel to the fire as you tighten around Spencer and some choked sound leaves his throat. Out of curiosity, you do it again and Spencer moans aloud. You give him a raised eyebrow and his voice is suddenly low. 

“Do that again and I’ll cum,” Spencer warns. You giggled for a second before looking up at Spencer's face. 

“You can cum in me if you’d like to,” you say, voice innocent  “I’m on the pill,” Spencer wants to cum right then and there but he pauses to take a deep breath. 

“Think I’ll have to take you up on that,” Spencer groans. You use one hand to rub your clit as Spencer pulls his hips back and starts to fuck you. The motion is slow at first, not wanting to hurt you but your voice in his ear only urges you to go deeper. 

“I’m so lucky to have you like this love, you’re so pretty for me,” Spencer's praises are so sweet to you. Sugar to aching ears when he speaks lovely words for you. You whine. 

“Spencer please cum in me - god, please,” you egg Spencer on as you get yourself off one last time. Spencer presses his forehead to yours, pausing for a second to kiss you sweetly before pounding into you again. 

“Shit,” Spencer's voice feels like it gets stolen from him as he finishes inside, feeling your orgasm aftermath convulse around him pushes him off the edge as you look at him warmly, a soft blush flooding your expression. 

“I love you so much,” you giggle to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing him to rest his body weight on you. Spencer wants to stay with you like this forever, wanting to wrap you up in his arms and hold you for eternity. He was hoping you’d let him. 

“I wanna stay like this, but let’s go get cleaned up first,” you say thoughtfully “I can wash your hair for you and we can shower together,” you say softly. Tears well up in Spencers eyes - remember the last time you did just that for him. He nods softly, burying his face in your neck, kissing new bruises that were soon to become dark purples. 

____

You come out of the shower first as you hear a knock on your door. It’s been a few minutes and the knocking has been incessant, you figure it’s a neighbor or maybe someone who needed help. You wrap your robe around yourself and towel around your hair before you open up the door. 

To your fucking dismay, it’s JJ, Emily, and Penelope - all stood outside with a bottle of wine as a greeting. Your eyes pop open immediately as you try to brush away the panic and give them all a fake smile. 

“Hey guys! What are you all doing here so late?,” you ask, internal panic threatening your life. They all give you a knowing look. 

“Well, we wanted to talk to you about something and we figure -,” Garcia starts but is interrupted by the sound of Spencer's voice, calling out to you as he walks out of the shower and in view of the open door. He can’t see them, but they can see him and he’s covered in hickies. You shut your eyes in disbelief as they all go dead silent. 

“Oh - oh my god is that Spencer?,” JJ asks shocked. You’re going to throw yourself in front of a bus. 

“Shit,” Spencer bolts into the other room leaving you to deal with the mess. You were so gonna get him for that later. You give them all an apologetic look. 

“We, uh - yeah,” you say a little distant. They all just giving you a knowing look, even Garcia even though that’s mixed with a bit of disgust. 

“We’ll see you on Monday, Y/N,” Emily says, being an angel and cutting the conversation short. You just nod as she drags a blabbering Garcia and deadsilent JJ away, reminding yourself to send her a thank you note later on. You walk into the room with Spencer and he gives you a guilty look, eyes apologetic as you roll your eyes, walking up to him to kiss him. 

“You’re so goddamn lucky I like you, dickhead,”

“You like me?,” Spencer asks, wrapping his arms around your waist before falling over to lay down with you. 

“Oh shut up, you know I do,” your tone is mean but your face gives you away. Spencer kisses you long and slow before looking at you again. The room is barred with loving silence, it feels every part of the air. It’s domestic, soft and adoring. A person whose love made you feel child-like joy but whose being brought your soul such comfort. You and Spencer lay in your bedroom like that for a while. 

“We should change right?” you ask laughing. Spencer nods. 

“I have clothes for you in my dresser,” you remind. Spencer nods as he stands up, slipping on some boxers and a shirt. You change into some old college pj’s and shorts and get laid up next to Spencer. 

There’s this silence that fills the room. It’s difficult to describe, the feeling of it is so new and hard to pinpoint exactly. You can feel it just barely on your skin, the way Spencer's arms hold your waist as the two of you lay next to each other, closing the gaps of space that fall between you - just itching for that familiar feeling of closeness. Spencer Reid was the closest thing to heaven you ever got - scruffy face and curious eyes. It’s hard to find truth in another person, yet stil Spencer shows up for you and kisses away all your nightmares. Loving him was so certain, but the fact that he loved you too felt unreal, still. Maybe it always would. It was a lot for you to take in but the feeling of him at your side, face on your chest sleepily messing with your hands. The way he looks up at you with such a pretty expression, mouthing the words I love you. It was the silence in the room and the cadence it managed - the soft and lulling adoration buzzing the nerves on your skin and kissing you awake. This was more than love, but faith. A regained faith in the notion that good things really can happen to good people. Spencer's love to you was a promise from the universe that good things are always around you even if you don’t see it at first. 

Spencer is so relaxed against you now, you read his body language and can feel his exhaustion. You were so attuned to him, fingers aching  to run through his hair and tell him how proud you were. Spencer made your heart light - his beaming smile turning you flush. Beautiful - him, this, the universe. Loving Spencer made the world feel so beautiful, even though both of you encountered such darkness in it. You were going to marry him someday, you were so sure of it. Someday you and Spencer would grow old and live with some livestock in a cottage somewhere far from here like he wanted. Or maybe a house in the suburbs with two babies you call your own - and a cat, and a dog too. Anything would work for you, but Spencer is probably a bit more picky. 

For you and Dr. Spencer Reid, love has always been a case study in body language. People lie, or hide the truth when they talk - so the two of you have never fallen in love with the words you may exchange. Instead you’ve fallen in love with the gentle touches, the longing glances and lingering hugs - or the feeling of their skin on yours when the night is too cold to be alone. It was the dilating pupils, and the feelings that universe seemed to fall away when the two of you shared looks to each other. You fell for Spencers subconscious before you ever fell for his mind or his body - the little things he did like raising his shoulders when he was happy, or fiddling with your hands when he was deep in thought, you fell in love with the things Spencer would never see for himself and he did the same for you. Spencer fell for the way you moved without thinking. For the person you were when all the curtains were closed. 

Love is anything but conscious. Love is deep-rooted in the sheer notion of that being alive is worth something, which is to say love is the basis of life. Not romantic love - but all love. Love is the basis of life. Spencer Reid loved you, sharing a piece of his life. In returns you gave him yours. An eye for an eye can give us sight we could never have before, if the exchange is born of adoration. 

There are still so many unresolved knots to tie, but for now it didn’t matter. Just like those first two months, Spencer is laying at your side and he smells like you. For now, he was here with you - as the two of you fell so deeply for each other as the seconds passed. There are so many questions to answer, but that’s okay for now. 

You two had all the time in the world to figure the rest out, and for him - thats more than enough. 

This silence was more than enough.

____

taglist:  @cynbx​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @reid-187​ @louistwinslover​ @pastanest​ @nomajdetective​ @iamburdened​ @secretlyablueunicorn

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #a case study in body language #i cant believe it's over #i hope yall like it.

[helbramstrauma]

Unkillable Chapter 4

Hello! as always this you can read on AO3, or if you need to catch up here is Chapters One Two Three

Now for a quick synopsis: You are a former knife thrower that now lives undercover with other escapee’s trying to make ends meet. This leads to some morally questioning jobs, you aren’t assassins but everything has a price. Just like any other job you were prepared, although your intel failed to mention something incredibly important. There seem to be other people trying to steal from the infamous underground auction as well

Word Count: 2260

Tw: Blood and Gore

Every ounce of confidence you once had is fleeting, realizing how dire your situation is, they always said curiosity is what killed the cat, but what other choice did you have? Noticing your position in the sky you are not far from your hideout, and you cannot sense the circus people anymore. Could that clown defeat all of them? All of that aside, you need to think, do you jump or do you wait? If you go to whatever location they are taking you to, your chances of survival are going to be low at best. Would it have been better to get killed by the circus, because Feitan has been staring at me the whole time oozing bloodlust? You begin to shift your weight towards the opening in the helicopter preparing to jump, however, Feitan quickly realizes and grabs my hand drawing blood. That is a mistake, you flip the small man over you and out of the helicopter forming a metal bar connection between us. Soon after you are plummeting towards the ground, though Feitan softens the landing. You change the previous bond back to blood as you stand up, giving your previous target your hand, there is no way you could kill him, and even if you did you cannot have the Phantom Troupe tagging you. “What this” Feitan stands up, pushing me against a wall holding his hand against my throat, but he is not crushing my windpipe, “start talking bitch”. He is extremely confident but you can sense a little hesitation in his eyes, but it is disappearing as he grows impatient for my answer. You attempt to pry his hand off of your throat but that only causes his grip to tighten, with a shortness of breath you are able to say, “Sorry”. This causes the man to look at you with confusion loosening the grip momentarily before it tightens again, but it is still looser than before.“ Wrong answer, try again”. “You never asked a question,” You say, realizing he never asked anything. Although you know nothing about the chain user, he could ask about the circus or why you were at the auction. He doesn’t say anything for a moment or two, and it remains silent after that. Until you finally hear his voice, “Name?” his grip also moves from your throat instead opting to pin your hands above your head. You remain silent, dumbfounded by his question: why would he want to know something so trivial? However he grows impatient and knees me in the gut, “You stupid? Don’t know your own name?” you can see his mouth peeking out behind his mask, in a notorious smirk. “You can call me y/n” You manage to get out. “Why people chase you?” he questions, this time not waiting for me to answer, he scratches your cheek drawing more blood. Has he not noticed how you get your knives to materialize? Either way, you were not going to harm him, you are too afraid of the consequences with the troupe. However, the hesitation in his eyes remains, despite his actions to hurt you. It is barely noticeable but when he hurts you, there is a slight flinch. Knowing you have some sort of footing you say, “You are going to have to hurt me more than that for me to answer that”. This does flip a switch and suddenly your head is bashed against the concrete, Feitan still holds your hands above your head but he leans down to your ear whispering in it, barely audible, “You no want that sweetheart, but I gladly do so”. After saying this it sends a shiver up your whole body, either out of fear or arousal, but you don’t have time to unpack all of that. Suddenly the warmth and wetness of his tongue press against the side of your face, slowly making its way to the cut on your cheek taking in some of your blood. Does this man not know anything about hepatitis, not that you have it, but if you did he would be dead. His breath is hitting my lips as we lock eye contact, “Change of heart?” he asks, waiting for my answer. This time not hurting me for an answer so I decided to test my luck again, “at least take me to dinner first”. You laugh at your own joke, noticing he isn’t laughing. He backs away from my face and simply says, “That all it take for information. You boring”. Did he not get it? More importantly, is he going to take me on a date? “I rather torture, but” he trails off lost in thought. He clearly isn’t opposed to date, am I opposed to a date? This is not what should be happening. You turn your head to look at your reflection in the window hoping for answers, but instead, you are greeted with the clown from earlier, throwing a card at what seems to be my neck. Of course, this was a setup, from the wrist wound you materialize a knife and throw it at the card cutting it in half. Getting the attention of both Feitan and the clown. A chuckle comes from the clown before he climbs down from his spot on the fire escape. “I underestimated you, girl”. Girl? You’re 24, do you look that young? “Hisoka, what you want?” Feitan asks the clown, clearly annoyed. “Doing something you clearly don’t have the guts to do” the clown says, getting ready to slit my throat with the card, drawing a little bit of blood at the end of my neck. Clown man just made a mistake, with Feitan’s loosened grip you are able to get one hand free, you then grab the end of your neck you pull away this time with a new knife. The clown is taken aback and at that moment you are able to stab the knife into his hand. “I decide to torture anyway” You hear Feitan say from behind you, but before you can turn around you see your surroundings turn black. However, before you lose consciousness you can hear the man in black say something, “You pay for my hesitation. I no like this feeling, so you pay”. Your vision is hazy and it takes you some time to get a recollection of the previous events, which adds to the surprise when you wake up in your own bed. After this realization, you sit up too quickly and your vision blurs for a second before refocusing also causing a creek in the bed frame signaling to your friends that you have awoken. A sharp and demanding voice of Adam pieces through the room, “Hey, idiot you shouldn’t leave without your earpiece,” he is stern but you know he is right, “What would've happened if Aim didn’t see what was happening and sent a dummy in your place”. Not only can Aim manipulate their own image they are also able to create a mirror image of someone else, although they haven’t mastered that yet and it can only create a lifeless doll. Soon, they’ll realize that they took a fake if they haven’t already figured it out already. “What kind of fun, I mean trouble, did you get us into y/n?” Lue asks. That's right they don’t know that you have a vendetta against the Phantom Troupe and they probably have some price on your head by now. How do you convey how much trouble you are in? “Is there danger you wouldn’t find fun?” you ask Lue. “Not that I can think of, now spill!” Lue is growing impatient and when she does this she acts like a child. With a deep breath, you let them know about the Phantom Troupe and the damage you have seen them done, with the circus. Adam is silent, but he is picking underneath his nails so you can tell he is nervous, however, Lue is the complete opposite. She is ecstatic to have some real fun and is babbling about training some more. Aim seems to be deep in thought, they are the only one who knows what risks to take, Adam is too careful and Lue not careful enough: you just don’t think things through. “Do you have anything on you?” Aim immediately starts using guo and sees the worst thing imaginable, a small silver string. There is no doubt that they have figured out that the other you was a fake, and they have to be on their way now. You have two options: prepare, or meet them here. “Calm down Adam! We can go somewhere we know well enough and lure them into a trap,” Aim suggests. “But you would be putting others' lives in danger, we can’t do that '' Adam rebuttals. “We should just charge at em, there is no fun in calculations” Lue complains. That's how you know it is a good plan when both Adam and Lue don’t like the plan. That way it is perfectly balanced and is often perfectly executed because despite Lue’s impulsive attitude she performs way better with some kind of plan and Adam performs best under pressure. The only question is where to set the trap, it needs to be far from Adam so he doesn’t have to worry about himself so he can just focus on the battlefield. “Where is it happening,” Adam asks as he moves over to his monitors already accessing the cameras around the building. “Y/n, this is going to happen quickly, get out of here and run as far away and prepare for a fight, they’ll be here in about a minute- get going” he tosses the earpieces to Aim, Lue, and you. They must have realized sooner than you and it is only spelling trouble. You are the last to leave the building and you give Adam a nod before you leave, however you don’t wait long enough for him to nod back. When you are on the roof, you can see Feitan and a different girl, she has pink hair. “The girl is the one who tracked you, let's not waste any time,” Aim says before sprinting after Lue and quickly catching up, you catch up as well. Your eyes lock onto some new construction a few buildings up, the others are also staring at it. “Adam we are going to the new construction” Lue informs. Within your earpiece, you can hear Adam complain about the lack of cameras in that area. However you are too focused on the maze in front of you, a maze you already know the way through but you cannot manage any mistakes. However, your nerves still catch up, when you are jumping to a higher building you underestimate it and you have to grab onto the ledge and keep moving. As if Aim can hear me cursing myself for that mistake they say, “Shake it off, you don’t have time to worry about it”. In about thirty seconds you are in the scaffolding surrounding the building with Aim barley behind you, and it takes Lue about another 10 seconds to meet us. “Lue go down the stairs into the building and wait to make your appearance,” Adam instructs over the earpiece, “Aim disguise yourself as a worker, and head up and to the left on the scaffolding, they are climbing a fire escape now so hurry before they see you getting into position”. Before Adam is done talking Lue has entered the building and Aim, is already on the upper-level morphing. The only way they will catch on is if they can see Aim’s real persona with guo. Wait, if they are using guo to find me, they’ll see right through the mirage, they need to hide too! “Aim gets inside” you hear Lue yell coming to the same realization as you. However, all you can do is hope Aim heard her as you can now see the man in black approaching and the woman he was with and if you call out now they’ll hear it. Unfortunately, you see the woman get up higher meaning she has already seen Aim. This is bad. Although you don’t have time to worry about that right now, you have your own problem at arm's length, Feitan. He unsheathes a sword from an umbrella before jumping onto the platform I am standing on. We exchanged a few blows, only getting a few scratches, but it was enough to draw blood which means you can get your own blade. There is a shallow cut running up your forearm, and you create a blade coming out of it, however when you lift that arm to strike, you look into his grey eyes, and in that moment of hesitation, you are pinned down to the scaffolding. He positions the blade just above the center of your neck, not yet connecting, and it isn’t moving either. When you look up into his eyes you see the same hesitation you saw earlier and the same hesitation you just showed. The sword is then removed by a whip, Lue is here, but you know that Feitan let her take it, he could have easily countered that. “Come Y/n, you could have had him,” Lue says approaching the two of us, “Guess it is more fun for me” I am pinned underneath him but his grip is loose enough for you to escape but what holds you back is the strange warmth it provides you. However, you see Luebella about to pounce Feitan that would knock him off the scaffolding. Before she can make contact you quickly switch positions with him, causing Lue to knock you off the scaffolding. It is about ten stories up, there is no way you can survive that fall. They say your life flashes before your eyes but all you can see is your time at the circus. Your former boss is holding your tent mate dangling them holding them by their throat, at that moment you were not able to turn your head although you know that he is about to break her neck, poor Julia. However it never comes instead he looks down and whispers something you were not able to hear at the time, but now it is clear as day, “Damn it, no use can’t kill who the universe tells you you're meant to love”. In your final thoughts you think, what does that even mean? But the memory continues throwing her across the room at you, you were barely able to keep steady. The next thing he says is something you would never forget, “Kill her, or else it's you”. Then you did because you knew nothing but to obey orders.

#Feitan #Feitan hxh #Feitan x Reader #Hunter x Hunter #Fanfiction #Hxh Fanfiction #fanfic #Slowburn #Enemies to lovers #Unkillable

[fleckcmscott]

Watch What Happens - Chapter 12

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Angst, Swearing, Smut

Words: 3,526

A/N: Again, special thanks to @rommies​ for beta-ing this!

Y/N had to do a double-take at the clock when she woke up: 3:40 AM. Normally she stirred around six. Regardless of the early hour, she couldn't stop a wide smile from breaking out across her face. Even if it meant she'd be a little hazy at work, she wouldn't mind having a couple extra hours with Arthur. She rolled over and stretched, reaching out to his side of the bed. It was empty, but his warmth lingered. Closing her eyes and moving to snuggle into his pillow, she thought of his mouth against her neck, the heady feeling of his lithe, surprisingly powerful body rutting into her, his startled look after she'd come. She giggled, hoping he'd hurry back for a second round.

It occurred to her that it'd been a bit foolhardy to sleep with him already. But about eighty-seven percent of her knew she had already fallen for him. That wouldn't have changed if she'd put off propositioning him for another couple of weeks. However, she wasn't sure she would have pressed so soon if she'd known she'd be his first. He'd been so nervous at the beginning - she'd almost felt predatory, with him standing there in his jacket, looking uncomfortable. But once he'd assured her that he wanted it, wanted her, as much as she desired him, she thought it had been wonderful.

But she was left with questions, all of which were related to the same theme. He'd briefly mentioned his acute loneliness during some of their calls - how on earth could he have been alone his whole life? What had happened? There were ten million people in Gotham - surely he must have been noticed by someone. It didn't make sense.

When they'd lain together in the dark, her head next to his, her fingers playing with the sparse hair on his chest, she'd tried to find out. "I really don't understand," she'd said. "I would have snapped you up if I found you a decade ago. Were you hiding from your mother in some dark Gotham subway tunnel?" she'd teased. When she'd sensed his discomfort, she tickled his ribs gently.

He'd snorted and stopped her hand, placed it flat against his stomach. "No." It was silent for a few minutes, then he'd turned to her, boosted up on his arm. In the dim light from the windows, she could see uncertainty in his eyes. "Is it a problem?"

"Not in the slightest." She’d stroked his hair, now completely loose from the gel he’d used to slick it back. "I just want to know you."

Arthur had nodded and let out a soft hum. His voice was tinged with sadness when he finally answered. "Stop worrying about me." The kiss he'd pressed to her forehead had been faint. "Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow." She'd narrowed her eyes at him before agreeing, rolling over and drifting off with his chest against her back, his arm around her waist.

Sitting up, Y/N looked at the clock again. It was just past four and he still hadn't returned. Maybe his bashfulness had gotten the best of him and he'd gone home. She turned on the bedside lamp and looked at the chair. A breath of relief came when she saw his clothes were still there. She got up, grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, and tied it around herself as she made her way to the bedroom door. Slowly, she cracked it open and peered out.

Arthur was seated on her couch, leaning forward, writing in his joke book. He'd put the lamp on, so she could see him clearly in the soft light. He was muttering to himself as he wrote, words she couldn't make out. A quiet chuckle escaped him; she assumed he was practicing the delivery of his jokes.

Every few seconds he stopped, sometimes putting the pen down, other times fiddling with a piece of his hair before writing again. His cigarettes and lighter were out, but she didn't smell any smoke. That meant he must have been on the fire escape, even though he was only in his trousers, it was the middle of the night, and freezing outside. She smiled at the sight of his toes wiggling in his white socks.

During a particularly long pause, when he looked pensive, she stepped out and towards him. He didn't seem to notice her at first. But when she got closer, he quickly shut the notebook and looked up at her, eyes wide. He cleared his throat and tried to smooth his hair. "Hi."

She sat next to him on the couch and kissed his cheek. "Hi. Working on new material for next time?"

Slowly, he sat back against the cushions. But he didn't turn to her. "Something like that."

Her hand reached to lay on his abdomen, gently stroking the firm muscle there. "When did you wake up?"

"I didn't sleep."

She could tell the usual tension he held in his body had returned. Trying to ease it, she bent her head to his shoulder. "It's hard to sleep in a new place." She let her eyes fall to the notebook. It was close enough for her to read the cover:

City of Gotham Department of Health Case no. 064823 Therapist: Dr. Kane Patient: Fleck, Arthur

She swallowed. Having a case and therapist assigned at the Department of Health meant he'd had problems in the past. That he'd posed a risk to someone else or, more likely, himself. And he'd either been distrusted or too poor to get help on his own. Given his apartment, the nature of his job, and his disabled mother, she assumed it was the second option. But she couldn't ascertain how long ago whatever happened happened. It could have been years. Or months.

His knees started to bounce, and she watched as he started to chew his thumbnail. She nestled against his jaw. "You can talk to me. I'm not planning on going anywhere."

They sat in silence for awhile before Y/N backed away and rested on her legs, looking at his profile. His brows were pinched together, and a glower was on his face. He appeared to be focused on his lap. When she traced his smile line, his skin twitched. "Why did you invite me here?" Arthur breathed.

She flinched. "What?" Frowning, she lowered her hand. "How can you-"

"What is this?" He continued. "I'm a party clown. I live with my mother. I don't even understand what your job is."

The hurt that had initially flashed through her faded as she understood. His ever present self-doubt was back. Her words were spoken kindly but firmly. "I lived with my father when I cared for him. And no, I never would have thought to hire a party clown. I still wouldn't - unless it was you. And, yes, I have a good job and education. They're important to me, but they’re not everything."

A bitter huff left him. "I've lost every job I've ever had. No matter how hard I try to do good, I fuck up." He rubbed his face and sighed. "I'm gonna fuck this up, too." 

She scooted closer, kneeling next to him so she could try to pull him into her arms. He remained stiff, apart from nudging his forehead against her when she kissed it.

"I know you saw my medications when you came over." His tone was soft, full of trepidation. "I can imagine what you must think."

"That you take medication." Even as she said it, Y/N knew the answer was too easy, especially with his notebook sitting right there. But, for the moment, she needed it to be. And she thought he needed it, too. "I took medication for a little while. I would have lost it if I hadn't." She winced, remembering all the times she'd failed and how poorly she'd handled the end stages of care giving. She gestured to the joke book. "You're obviously trying. You're driven to follow your crazy, amazing dream of being a comedian. You care for your mother. You do fucking housework."

That got a snort out of him, but he sniffled and wiped his nose nervously. "They weren’t just for my condition." The way his voice trembled made her stomach ache. His hand followed the edge of her coffee table as he bent forward, elbows on his knees. "They were for... Because..." He closed his eyes and laughed softly, shaking his head.

Y/N started caressing his oddly jutting shoulder blade, her touch running down his spine. Her palm lay flat against his ribs. His heart was pounding, and she could feel the slight tremor in his frame as his breath hitched. "Arthur," she started, wanting to protect him, and, if she was honest, part of herself. "Tell me when you're ready. Not because you're afraid of my reaction when I find out." She kissed the top of his bicep. "I trust you," she said.

Even with her reassurance, he was still radiating anxiety minutes later. She nudged his side. “I think we’ve reached some sort of milestone,” she quipped, hoping to see his dimples again. “We’ve both gotten emotional on my sofa. In record time.”

At that, Arthur chuckled and started to relax, eventually leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling her to him. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, nuzzling his face. "Y/N,” he said, his voice soft and raspy, “until a little while ago, it was like no one ever saw me." His eyes shut as he scoffed. "Even I didn't know if I really existed."

"You do," she said firmly, squeezing him tight around the middle. "You do."

"I do," he confirmed, pulling back to look at her. She smiled as his thumb traced her bottom lip. "You're the best thing in my life. The only good thing. I..."

Y/N froze for a split second, and was glad he didn't seem to notice. Being put on a pedestal was the last thing she wanted.

Though, she thought, he was one of the best things to happen to her, too.

"I'm just me, Arthur. I'm nothing special. And that's fine. I'm good with that."

He looked bewildered. "Why do you keep saying that? You're wrong."

"Psh. You haven't known me long enough." She smirked at him. "I'm eventually going to pester you to the point where you'll answer any questions with a grunt until I leave the room."

He leaned into her. "That won’t happen,” he said before his mouth met hers. It started off tender, but soon it turned hard, his lips groping at her. When he broke their connection, resting his forehead on hers, she noticed how labored his breathing had become. Groaning, he bent to kiss her again, tilting his head as his tongue pressed against her.

Despite his messy eagerness, and perhaps because of it, Y/N’s core started to ache. The memory of him inside her, stretching and searing her with his generous girth, was enough to prompt a whimper. She pulled him to her as she lay down. He followed, hands moving next to her head to hold himself up.

Admiring the toned, slender musculature of his thin frame, she stroked down his chest and over his stomach. When she traced the line of faint hair leading to his groin, he moaned in her mouth. God, he was making her wet again already. “I want you,” she purred, reaching to unbutton his pants.

Gently, Arthur caught her wrist. “Um.” He winced and looked away from her. “I need another hour or two. I’m - I’m sorry.”

The embarrassment on his face tugged at her. They weren’t teenagers. And when she’d taken one medication, her sex drive had gone dormant.  Hell, it could happen to anyone. She kissed his temple and resumed her caresses, smiling at him. “It’s all right. Should I take a long lunch break and stop by your apartment?” Her voice dropped. “I promise I can be quiet.”

“No, but…” He swallowed, his eyes flicking to hers. “I don’t know how to ask this.” A blush crossed his face as he moved to kneel in front of her on the floor. He pulled her to him, holding her against his chest. When his mouth met hers, it was hot, bolder than she’d expected.

The bottom of her robe hitched up around her waist as she opened her legs, allowing him to pull her flush against him. Her hips jerked, feeling how close his abdomen was to her vulva. “Arthur, don’t be so damn polite,” she breathed. “God, you make me so horny.” She laughed at herself as she said it. It had been a long time since someone had inspired her to be brazen - it was fun.

“Do I?” he answered playfully, mildly surprising her, as his lips trailed to her neck. He reached for the tie of her robe and pulled slowly, his voice lowering, a little more serious. “How?”

Y/N arched into his hands when he tenderly palmed her breasts, kisses ghosting against her sternum. “By being you.” Her fingertips followed the diagonal lines of muscle starting under his arms, around to his back. The heat of his skin sunk into her. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’re beautiful.”

“Sure,” he said sarcastically, kissing the underside of her breast.

As his lips went lower, across her stomach, she dragged her thumb over his dark brow. “You are.”

When his mouth traversed her abdomen and pressed above her pubic bone, she realized where he was headed. She let out a shuddering breath and stilled, heat pooling in her throbbing center. He stopped, his eyes closed. After a few seconds, she stroked back his hair. “Arthur, you don’t have to-”

“Do you want me to stop?” he interrupted quietly.

“Definitely not.” She giggled. “I’m just surprised you want to do that already.”

“Already?” he scoffed. He looked up at her. The shy determination in his eyes stole her breath. His grip on the outside of her thighs tightened. “I’ve- I’ve wanted you since you saw me at the donut shop.” The bridge of his nose pressed against her hip. “After you touched me. And I knew I didn’t make you up,” he murmured.

That admission, that he’d pined for her after two brief interactions, would have alarmed her if she didn’t know him. Now it made her shiver.  Her fingers grazed the plains of his handsome face, sweeping over his cheekbone. It marveled her how he could be simultaneously heartbreaking and arousing.

His left hand moved to her inner thigh and slowly pushed it, spreading her legs further. When he lifted his head to look at her, it stunned her. Then she dared to look, too. Her folds were glistening and swollen, engorged to the point where the hood was peeking out from her labia, and she could see a hint of the edges of her inner lips. She jumped lightly when he opened her with his thumbs, his damp breath hitting her.

A man had never just stared at her before. It was starting to make her uncharacteristically self-conscious. She squirmed a bit. She was about to open her mouth and, probably, ruin the moment when he pressed a kiss to her sex.

Automatically, her hips rolled towards his mouth, her legs twitching. The round tip of his nose brushed against her bundle of nerves as he nuzzled against her. Quickly, he parted his lips and pressed his tongue against her opening, then dragged it up to her sensitive nub. “Arth-Arthur…” The need in her own voice surprised her. At the cry of his name he exhaled sharply, and his hands went back to her thighs, holding them open.

She was trying to control her reactions. As far as she knew, he hadn’t done this before (though judging by how he was doing, he must have at least read up on it). She didn’t want to buck into his face and freak him out. But it was getting harder for her to concentrate on holding back. When they’d started, the tightly wound string inside her had already been on the verge of snapping. As the tip of his tongue swept against her clit, her hand went to his hair, holding gently. Her other went his shoulder and squeezed.

“Fuck, there,” she gasped. His lips were stroking her clitoral hood the way they would seek out her mouth. Leaning back against the sofa cushions, she thrust up against him carefully, pleasure spiking through her. One foot was planted on the floor, while she tried to brace the other on the coffee table. But the table lurched forward unexpectedly and she lost her grip on it, causing her leg to fall onto Arthur’s back.

He let out a slight “oof” and pushed his forehead against her abdomen, chuckling as he shrugged off her leg. “I’m trying to concentrate,” he said, amused.

“Sorry!” In the next second, his tongue was back on her, and her laughter turned to a moan. “Oh, god,” she breathed. He groaned against her, then, and the vibration caused her to roll up harder against him. She thought he must he liked it, because his strong hands went to her hips, pulling her tighter to him.

Gazing down at him, she brushed his loose curls out of his face. The sight of his mouth on her, his jaw moving, his lips and tongue working, forced a whine out of her. He must have felt her stare, because he opened his eyes and met hers, just for a moment. A flush rose up his neck and spread to his face, which charmed her. How could her looking at him cause that reaction when he was laving at her the way he was - and obviously enjoying it? His eyelids shut as he picked-up speed.

He became bolder as his tongue quickened, his lips closing over her hardened clit and gently sucking. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she let her head fall back. Her other hand joined the one in his hair, holding him to her as her hips moved faster, seeking contact. Her whole body was tightening as her movements started stuttering, her cries getting louder and more unintelligible as he licked and sucked her off.

The tension inside her finally broke as she came, pulsing against his mouth. Warmth spread through her as she curled up towards him, her arms coming around his head and shoulders. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her breathing stopped every few seconds, followed by deep gasps as she tried to gulp air into her lungs. Arthur was still between her legs, tonguing at her. She had to push him back when it started to hurt.

She saw him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before he rose and embraced her, holding her to him as she quivered. His lips were on her breasts and neck before pressing, hard, against her mouth. She hissed as he thrust his abdomen against her, pinching her brows together as he ground against her clit. When she steadied her breath and opened her eyes and gazed up at him, he looked pleased. And a little smug. She liked that on him for a change.

Her hands cupped his face, bringing him to her, and she kissed him deeply. “Arthur… God.”

His palm went to her chest, over her heart. “Are you all right?” The corner of his lip went up. “Are you gonna have a heart attack?”

“It’d be worth it.” Thrilled, she leaned her forehead against him. “Should I add this to Dr. Sally’s thank you card?”

Making a non-committal hum, he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder. His eyelashes tickled her neck as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was quiet then. The intense rush of emotions she felt, holding him to her, was unexpected. Especially after the easy comfort of last night. She closed her eyes and kissed the top of his head, then rubbed her cheek against it. In this instant, she didn’t have to worry about his troubles or his past. He seemed happy and at peace. Her heart was full. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to extend the moment to forever.

Of course, it didn’t work. Arthur’s voice was soft when he spoke. “I- I should go home. I need to be there before my mother wakes up.”

She bit her lip and nodded. It was obvious he felt bad about leaving. “It’s all right. I understand.” She tightened her thighs’ grip on him before letting him go, though, and smiled when he lifted his head. “I’m having Patricia - a colleague - over tonight. I can call you when she leaves.” His eyebrow lifted. “Then you can come by and I can return the favor,” she said, swatting his bottom lightly.

Blushing, he ducked his head bashfully. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll head over as soon as I hear your voice.” Then he pushed his mouth to hers.

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