hand to wrist bracelet


Originally posted by taetaehyungs

REQUEST: Hey i just read all of your fics hehe and i really like your writing! Can I request a very protective demon!tae fic pls? Doesn’t matter if fluffy or smutty thank you so much x

GENRE: Demon!au, Supernatural, smut(to come), slight angst, i have to make this fluffy of course

He was never supposed to meet her, but when he did, all he wanted to do was to keep her.

(PT3/??) - PT1, PT3

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I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you

For @nerdyadventures Happy birthday my friend, I’m 10 days late and I made you beta this but this is for you and for keeping up with my texts all the time and humoring me and texting me back. You’re wonderful and I can’t it to be January so we can hang out in Disneyland.

This is the start of a hopefully 3 part story. I hope you guys like it.

Piper was applying lipstick to her lips while Sally and Hazel worked on her hair but Annabeth was hardly paying attention to them, her brain kept thinking about what was about to happen… in less than an hour she would stop being Annabeth Chase and she would become Annabeth Jackson. In less than an hour, she would be marrying the love of her life. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep the butterflies in her belly at bay.

It had been so long since Percy had caused her butterflies but it wasn’t a bad thing, after all, they had been together for almost eight years and known each other for eleven. Percy didn’t give her butterflies anymore but he gave her a feeling of safety, love, home, happiness and that was better than any butterfly. She felt weirdly calm, she never thought this was how she would be feeling moments away from her wedding, like any bride she had her bridezilla moments but they didn’t last long, not when they usually ended in Percy’s arms, his voice soothing the stress away, joking how they could elope in any moment, how the only thing that matters was their love.      

“You look beautiful, honey.” Sally’s voice brought her back from her thoughts, her future mother-in-law had tears in her eyes. Annabeth looked at her reflection in the mirror, two beautiful braids worked as a headband and they ended in a messy bun with small white flowers braided into it, Piper had given her a beautiful but minimal makeover, hints of gold framed her eyelids, her lips had a peachy color on them and her cheeks were covered in light pinks and she looked, well, she looked like the blushing bride she wasn’t. “But you are missing something.”

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anonymous asked:

What did dylan have around his wrists in the picture of him and eric dead was it bracelets

Those silvery gray ‘bracelets’ were functional match strikers which the boys’ ingeniously cut from the side of a box of matches and taped together with silvery grey electrical tape, each bracelet had two strikers. They could easily light the fuses of their pipe bombs and other incendiaries in a very consistently accessible manner. In the boys’ usual symbolically contrasting yin/yang, aesthetic, Dylan being left-handed, wore his striker bracelet on his right wrist and Eric being right handed wore his striker on his left wrist.  The ingenuity of their amateur invention was considered ingenious by the authorities.

Below: match striking strips cut from the side of a match boxes.

lord of shadows snippet

Cristina was there, in the middle of the room, looking up at one of the chandeliers. There was a row of three of them, unlit but glittering with crystal drops.

Mark let the door fall shut behind him and she turned. She didn’t look surprised to see him. She was wearing a plain black dress that looked as if it had been cut for someone shorter than her — it probably had been.

“Mark,” she said. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

“Not well.” He glanced ruefully down at his arm, though the pain had gone now that he was with Cristina. “Did you feel the same?”

She nodded. Her eyes were bright. “My mother always said that the ballroom in the London Institute was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen.” She looked around, at the Edwardian striped wallpaper, the heavy velvet curtains looped back from the windows. “But she must have seen it very much alive and filled with people. It seems like Sleeping Beauty’s castle now. As if the Dark War surrounded it with thorns and since then it has slept.”

Mark held out his hand, his wound circling his wrist like Julian’s sea-glass bracelet circled his. “Let us wake it up,” he said. “Dance with me.”

Secrets We Keep // Spencer Reid x Reader

Request:  Hey, 💕😁 your requests are open! YASS! ❤ Can you do an Imagine, where the reader is a very good trained assassin and dating Reid but she is also on the team. But she never talked about her training and maybe after a hard case, she tells him about her training to an assassin. And maybe she started to cry because, it was a really dark moment in her life. ❤💕 Love ya and i hope it’s not a problem to write about this 😊

A/N: I apologize for how long this took! I rewrote it a million times and I’m still not sure I’m 100% happy with it but oh well lol. I hope you like it!

“Penelope?” you asked in surprise as you opened your front door. It was late, and Penelope had always been the type to call before dropping in for a visit.

“I did something,” Penelope began, her voice rising as it did when her anxiety over situations arose. “I know I shouldn’t have. I tell myself I need to stop being so nosy but I have the information right there at the tip of my fingers and I just can’t-”

“Pen,” you interrupted. “What did you do?”

She fell silent for a moment as she fidgeted in place. You watched as her hands nervously played with the bracelets on her wrists before she strode into your home.

“Penelope,” you repeated as you shut the door. “What did you do?”

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View | jaehyun

Genre: bodyguard!AU | fluff, yikes! so much angst, mild swearing and a lot of sarcasm.

Member: Jaehyun / reader (3rd person perspective!!!!!)

Word count: 3000+

Note: sorry part 2 took so long, thank you all for being so patient!!

part: one | two


“This is unnecessary.” She mutters angrily, rubbing her forehead.

The scenery depicted through the car window is one she expected from Sydney. The clear ocean waves that threaten surfers and the laid back Australian attitude she dreamed of having. She doesn’t have to look behind her to know that there are two police cars tailing them, just as there are two in front.

“This is protocol.” Jaehyun reminds from beside her.

This is ridiculous.” She snaps back angrily, burying herself lower into the leather seat.

“You’re a brat.” he scoffs, rubbing his eyes like he’s tired of her.

She turns to glare at him, “Fuck you.”

“This death threat is serious.” He reminds, wide eyed, “They are not kidding so your protection is currently the police’s highest priority.”

She rolls her eyes and sneers, “It’s a bunch of kids messing around, it’s nothing.” She assures tiredly. “I just wanted to spend some time with my friends and visit some museums and now I can’t even do that because you’re over reacting.”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he retorts angrily.

“I don’t need your protection!” She roars with such ferocity that if he weren’t sitting he would have taken a step back. She slips reluctantly back into silence and huffs, wrinkling her nose. Her cheeks are flushed and he can tell she’s trying to calm down when her nails dig into the skin of her arm. “Is it so hard to understand that I just want to be normal?” she adds, quieter, but the type of quiet where the storm behind it is trying to tiptoe around the issue.

He watches her sadly and clasps his fingers together, not sure what to do with his hands, “But you’re not-”

If you asked her to recount the events, she would say she’s only seen them in her nightmares. She wouldn’t be able to give you a play by play but she remembers the screams. She remembers the broken glass and the blood that covered her fingers, dripping between her rings. She remembers the way he looked, like he was scared he would lose her. She remembers her head slamming into the seat before her and she remembers the blood curdling screech that came crawling out of her throat as she car flipped over.

She remembers Jaehyun holding onto her like she was a fragile china doll and she remembers the way it felt when the bullet grazed arm. She remembers screaming- she remembers looking for him, praying he was safe while she fumbled through the smoke and blood to find him. “Jae!” she croaks from where she’s lying against the roof.

Her legs are trapped between the seat and the floor and she tries to move but there’s a sharp pain that stabs somewhere in her chest. “Jaehyun.” she calls again, louder this time before erupting into a fit of coughs that wracked her body until blood spurts from her mouth. What the hell.

She hears distant sirens that are actually closer than she knows and she wafts the smoke away from her eyes, trying to find any indication as to where he could be. She wriggles her foot out from its trapped spot and crawls along the broken glass to where he was originally sat. “Jae.” she repeats to no avail as she finds nobody there.

The door on his side has been ripped off and she drags herself painfully through the broken glass as the distant sirens indicate help is on the way. she notices the police cars surrounding that have all crashed into various things and almost scoffs but then she scratches her whole upper arm on a sharp piece of glass and hisses. “Princess…” a voice croaks and she look up suddenly, the air rushing out of her lungs.

He’s laying down on the floor with blood on his shirt and scrapes on his face but his eyes are full of relief when he realises she’s okay. “Are you-” he starts coughing, his entire body shaking, “-okay?”

She drags herself over to him despite the fact that every single part of her hurts like she’s being stabbed by a thousand screwdrivers. He reaches out, wincing but still grabs her hand as she finally collapses beside him. “What happened?” she begs, tears in the corners of her eyes at seeing him like this, their bloodied fingers clinging to each other.

She can see the ambulances screeching to a halt but everything’s a haze of lights and sirens and his distant soft smile as he breathes strenuously, “You’re okay.” he groans, suddenly clutching his shoulder and s c r e a m i n g in utter agony and she realises he’s been shot. He hisses, his breathing coming out in short pants and his other hand doesn’t leave hers as she squeezes it- like she’s trying to keep him grounded.

“Help!” she shouts through the blood in her hair, “Help him!”

He manages to grin slightly, “Still think I can’t protect you?” he whispers.

She’s lost for words. Completely stunned into silence.

It’s her fault.

None of this would have happened if she hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been working for her. She’s overwhelmed with this sense of guilt and her heart drops in her chest because she realises just how awful a person she is. She keeps hurting those around her, she keeps putting everyone in danger, she keeps hurting those she loves and only wants to protect for as long as she lives.

She realises that he could die because of who she is and how much he means to her. She swallows, her palms frozen around his hand and doesn’t say anything as his breathing continues to shallow. Even when the paramedics sprint over and start putting them on board and stabilising their spines, she doesn’t have anything to say.

She stops one of the paramedics with panic in her eyes, “Please make sure he’s okay.” she begs. The paramedic just nods and that’s enough to relieve her of a small amount of guilt. But how much water can you take out of a well at once?

Her: 2

Jae: 2

“You’re not supposed to leave your bed.” Jaehyun reminds, shuffling in the wheelchair.

She shrugs from behind him where one hand is wrapped around the handle bars and she’s pushing him down the corridor, “Neither are you.”

“My job is to go where you go.” he points out.

She rolls her eyes, “Not when you have six broken ribs, five metal pins in your knee, severe head trauma and you died on the operating table twice because of that fucking gunshot wound.” she hisses angrily and under her breath as she turns the corner and carries on down the freezing corridor towards the gardens.

“Well what about you?” he retorts, almost childishly pointing at her with the hand that isn’t trapped in a sling.

She narrows her eyes and continues to push his wheelchair towards the greenery she’s been promised, “What about me?” she asks tiredly, almost like she’s bored of this conversation.

Everytime he looks at her, he’s reminded of how he failed. How he couldn’t completely protect her and how she’s going to have scars on her body for the rest of her life. His voice is suddenly sombre, quiet and full of guilt, “You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken arm, 42 stitches in your thigh and whiplash.” he reminds, both himself and her.

She frowns, sensing the change in tone and then laughs heartily, “Alright, this isn’t a competition.” she scoffs.

“Not one you’re winning at least.” he smirks, trying his best to bury the guilt she knows he’s feeling.

The sliding double door open automatically and they’re immediately hit with a rush of fresh and warm air that envelops them in a hug and beckons them outside. His wheelchair bumps over the stone tiles and he’s pretty sure wheelchair motion sickness is a thing because he might just throw up. (she reminds him it’s a side effect of the concussion and he scoffs, ‘my head is fine’. She raises an eyebrow, ‘alright, how many fingers am i holding up.’ but he doesn’t move to look at her, ‘i don’t need to turn around to know you’re swearing at me’.)

She pushes him along the path, past other patients who are sitting outside, until they reach an empty bench. She leaves him beside it and takes a seat right one the edge, next to him. They’re both dressed in hospital gowns with butterfly plasters over their faces and scratches on their arms. Her arm is in a sling and the wrist on her other hand carries a hospital ID bracelet.

She takes a deep breath, the first breath of fresh air she’s had since the accident which seems like years ago at this point even though the evidence is clear it was recent. “You were right.” she admits, nodding.

He shrugs, “I usually am.”

She spares him a quick glare but shakes her head, “I should have taken it seriously.”

He doesn’t say anything, only looks around the garden. His fingers twist the leaf from a bush as he coughs awkwardly. “You’re alive aren’t you?”

They don’t say anything just yet. Choosing to bask in the cold morning air as she wind rustles through the trees and the leaves swirl along the pavement. There are rose bushes and sunflowers that tower over the other plants like they’re in charge. The other patients chatter and gossip and exchange stories. The cancer patients are smiling and she’s pleasantly surprised, but she can see the shadows in their eyes when they look away from each other.

“Thank you.” she blurts, looking down at her feet.

He frowns, “What for?”

She scoffs, “Saving my life.”

He nods, “It’s kind of my job.” he reminds. And when he doesn’t say anything he just nudges her arm, “Come on, don’t make this deep that’s not who you are.”

She flinches away from him and clutches her shoulder with a glare, “Hey, i’ve got stiches there.” she snaps and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be a wimp, i got shot.” he reiterates for like, the hundredth time.

She waves her hands, “Wow, how long are you going to milk that?” she sighs tiredly.

He looks aghast, “how long am i- listen here princess-” but she doesn’t let him finish, only presses her thumb against the bullet wound, enough to hurt him so that he hisses and bats her away with an angry scowl that hides a smile because they’re back to themselves now. She laughs when he clutches his shoulder and he shakes his head,  “I am never risking my life for you ever again.” he assures.

She laughs, throwing her head back and holding her hand to her chest when she still sees the betrayal in his eyes, “You’re so dramatic.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks in response, pressing the ball of his hand into her thigh and she suddenly stops laughing, sucking in a sharp breath as her neck snaps forward and she digs her nails into his wrist.

Yah! What the fuck?” she growls and this time, he laughs, her hand still wrapped around his wrist.

“You should have seen your face!” he chuckles, shaking his head.

She glares, “You want me to see if I can give you an extra pin in your knee?” she threatens, wriggling her eyebrows as she balls her hand into a fist.

He glares, “I swear to god i’m gonna sue you for hostile work environment”

Her: still 2

Jae: still 2

‘If you’re reading this, two things have happened. One, you’ve woken up, and two, I’ve left. Don’t worry, i’m going home where i’ll be safe from any more attempts on my life.

There are a lot of things i want to say to you, a lot of things i don’t know how to say, but a lot of things i wish i could.

I wish you could stay with me. I wish we could stay together.

I wish you hadn’t taken this job. I really, really wish you hadn’t.

Don’t take this personally.

You’re fired.’

She didn’t think she would miss him as much as she does.

She mopes around the palace for a week, her bed covers around her shoulders as she wanders through the halls and wide corridors. There’s a swish swoosh as the fabric drags along the floor and she mumbles under her breath, something about how she doesn’t need him. She stays in the same pyjamas for a week and the maid complains because of the smell and begs to wash it.

She doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask for much and fluctuates between barely eating and midnight snacking. She rejects bodyguard after bodyguard because they’re ‘too tall’ or ‘too scary’ or maybe just because they’re not him. He calls her, one, twice, seventeen times, and she ignores him with immense difficulty. Her finger always swipes to accept that call but she always catches herself in time. He texts her, ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘what happened?’ and then a, ‘What did i do?’ and her heart squeezes in her chest, but she reminds herself that this is for his own good.

One day, she’s stumbling blindly in the early morning with the duvet around her shoulders when she finds herself staring out of a window from the main living room. Someone coughs, “Your Royal Highness.”

She doesn’t turn around, “I’m fine, I don’t need anything, leave me alone.”

“You’re forgetting I don’t work for you anymore.” says the voice that now she realises is painfully familiar.

She shuffles in her duvet to look behind her and her eyes widen slightly. He’s standing by the arm of the sofa in jeans and a T-shirt, the most casual thing she’s ever seen him wear, and a blank expression on his face, like he doesn’t want to let anything show. She wrinkles her nose and swallows, “What are you doing here?” she asks quietly.

He licks his lips and she involuntarily follows the action, “I need to empty my quarters.” He reminds and doesn’t miss the flash of guilt that sparkles in her eyes.

She nods, “Right.” she says absentmindedly.

He coughs, scratching his neck and winces slightly at the pain in his arm. There are still scratches and bruises that are slowly disappearing and this time, the guilt in her eyes is evident. “Can we talk?” he asks carefully.

She leans against the window pane, the duvet still around her and she shrugs, “We have nothing to talk about.” she tries to be strong, to not let anything show on her face but he knows her well enough to see it anyway.

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, I’ll talk, you listen.”

“I actually have things to do, princess duties to attend to and someone to knight, so if you’ll excuse me-” she pushes herself off the window pane but doesn’t get very far.

“Did I do something?” he interrupts.

She stops in her tracks, looking at anything but him and swallows uncomfortably, “No.” she murmurs.

He looks at his feet, “Did I say something? Was I not good enough-”

“No.” she shakes her head, “I just…” she trails off, glancing at him, “I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me.”

“Oh thank god.” he breathes loudly, grinning and holding his hand to his heart as he finally takes a deep breath. She frowns as he continues to smile, “I thought it was something serious.” he snorts.

Her mouth gapes open and she stares, “That is serious.” she assures.

He shakes his head, still smiling, “Princess, my Job is to get hurt.”

“You nearly died!” she snaps back and the smile slowly disappears from his lips.

He cocks his head, slowly walking over to her with a soft look on his face, like he genuinely cares. “Baby, I’m okay.” he assures, his fingers tucking a strand deftly behind her ear and then not moving from her cheek.

“I’m not.” she whispers, her eyebrows pinched above her nose. “I miss you.” she mumbles under her breath like she can’t believe she’s telling him.

And he breathes into a soft smile as he pulls her into a hug, her head buried into his shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “I’m here, it’s okay.” he murmurs and she clings to his body, her heart hammering in her chest and she never wants to let go, “I’m here.”

“Please don’t leave me.” she asks quietly, in a voice as broken as he’s ever heard and he places a kiss on her forehead. Something twists in his gut at the feeling of her body against his and a soft smile make its way on his lips which he knots his fingers into her hair.

He places a kiss on her forehead, tender and gentle and she melts into his hold, “Never.”

her: 2

jae: 3

(because unfortunately, she does need him.)

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning towards him so he can hear.

He nods, “Why?”

She shrugs and turns back to face the front where the professor is scribbling notes onto the whiteboard. “You haven’t said anything since we walked in.”

He follows the professor’s hand as he writes pout sentences that, to Jae, make no sense because he’s not a science person and wrinkles his nose. This is the last place he expected to be when she told him to dress down. “I’m just surprised.”

Her fingers drag the pen across paper to copy what’s on the board with her eyebrows pinched together and her tongue between her teeth, “And why is that?” she asks, again quietly because they’re in a lecture hall.

He shrugs, “I mean… school?” He asks incredulously, holding his arms out to gesture around him.

She shrugs and keeps writing, “University.” She reiterates and he coughs.

“How exactly?” He asks, frowning and crossing his arms to scan the other students in the room.

She licks her lips, hanging off every word out of the professor’s mouth, “I called, explained my… situation-” she says under her breath like it’s some kind of sinful word, “-and they accepted me.” she notices the doubt in his eyes and she rolls hers, “I had the grades, I didn’t matter than I was a princess.”

He nods, crossing his arms, “but why?” He adds suddenly.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye, “You said I could be anything I wanted.” She shrugs under his hot gaze, “So I became a student.” and he doesn’t say anything, only stares at her in mild shock and complete pride and she eyes him out of the corner of her eye. A smile slowly etches itself across his lips and he’s genuinely beaming, “You’re staring.” she points out flatly, once more because this boy…

He smiles wider, “I like the view.” he responds.

She raises an eyebrow, pointing beside her to the picture of the river thames hung up on the wall, “What, of london?” she asks, like she smartass she is.

He smirks, “London doesn’t compare to you.”

“If I didn’t know any better i’d say you were flirting with me Jung Jaehyun.” she responds, mockingly puzzled.

He raises an eyebrow, “What, I can’t flirt with my girlfriend?” he cocks his head.

She smiles and his heart beats at a rate he’s never felt before, “God, what am I going to do with you.”

He wriggles his eyebrows, “We’ve go all day. And maybe even the rest of our lives.”

Her cheeks flare up again and she hits him on the shoulder, but he just laughs and tangles his fingers in hers like he never wants to let go.

her: 2

jae: 3

(he wins, but don’t tell him that, he’ll never let her forget it.)

part: one | two

Happy Birthday

Requested by: @givemeallthepie for their birthday. I hope you had a fantastic birthday, and I hope you enjoy the fic :)

2,614 word(s) of: a little sad but mostly fluffy birthday goodness.

No warnings(for once)      Leonard x Reader

You groaned at the sound of your alarm as you rolled over and fumbled with your PADD before finally shutting it off. You glanced at the time and then your eyes fell to the date. You groaned quietly to yourself, it was your birthday. You didn’t mind birthdays, you just didn’t like your own.

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The Joker x Reader - “Broken”

After you got shot in the head you were in a coma for a while. When you woke up you were quite broken and The Joker doesn’t like broken things. Getting rid of you seems like the perfect solution.

The Joker immediately turned when he heard the gunshot. You felt the sharp pain for a split second before you blacked out. J opened his mouth in disbelief, wanting to say something but for once he was speechless. He just stood there, stunned, watching Frost as he killed the security guard being heroic enough to attempt a small rebellion on his own.

“WHAT…THE FUCK??!!” The Joker’s voice finally echoed in the building while stomping towards you. Some of the hostages on the floor whimpered in fear, knowing that it won’t end well after what just happened.

“I thought you were watching everybody!” he pointed at his henchmen, mad as hell, kneeling so that he can turn you around. J saw the nasty bleeding head wound and he lost it:

“Kill everybody!! NOW!!!!” He lifted you and your arms went limp, hanging down on the sides of your body. “God dammit! Frost, let’s go, you drive!!” Blood started soaking his purple coat and he squeezed you closer to him, trying to wake you up.

“Hey, Princess, open your eyes! Open your eyes!“ No answer came and he took a deep breath, grinding his teeth, not even discerning the screams coming from the slaughter happening behind him.

He got in the back of the van with you and realized he wasn’t even wearing a shirt that night.

“Frost, give me your jacket!” he impatiently demanded and wrapped it around your head as soon as he got it. Jonny started driving and the Joker kept on wiping the blood off your face with his bare hands, not realizing he got all over his cheeks and hair too. “Baby doll, can you hear me? Don’t make Daddy mad; open your eyes, hm?”  he kept on trying to reason with you, nervously biting his lips.

“Where to, Boss?” Frost shouted, driving so fast he was afraid he will get unwanted attention, the last thing that was needed that night.

“Our doctor, Frosty, where else???!! “ The Joker snapped back at him, irritated about the question. “I don’t care who else we need to get, I want her fixed!… I don’t like…b-broken things…” he muttered the last words to himself, stammering with anxiety, still trying to clean you up.

*** You were in surgery for 10 hours. It was a clean wound, the bullet wasn’t inside: it pierced the left side of your head, above your ear, slightly under the skin surface which was very lucky but still created quite a lot of damage and brain hemorrhage. The best doctors that Gotham’s underworld uses were brought in to help you. J didn’t care about the money they asked or the supplies needed. What was he going to do with all his possessions if his Queen was dead?  It wouldn’t matter, it would be no fun.

The Joker was told there was no way to know when you will wake up or if there will be any nerve damage following your recovery. They didn’t have the courage to tell him you might never wake up. Afterwards, you were taken to the penthouse and one of the spare bedrooms was transformed into your own medical ward. The doctors took turns in coming and checking up on you, changing your bandages, updating your IV medications and the blood tests were coming back pretty good, except for the fact that you wouldn’t wake up.

Since J couldn’t sleep without you, he moved the bed in the master bedroom to your room, this way he could at least doze off for a few hours. All those beeping noises from those machines you were hooked at annoyed him to death but he learned to ignore them after a few days.

The Joker talked to you all the time, sometimes falling asleep waiting for an answer that never came. Most of the times he was answering for you.

* “Hey, Y/N, do you remember when you told me you were pregnant and I panicked, almost pushed you off the balcony? Lucky you told me you were joking before I did it, huh? “ and he started laughing maniacally, ending it with a deep growl, pleased at the memory. “Good times, Doll…”

* “Oh my God, I’m so bored!” He would roll his blue eyes in your face.” Would you wake up, Pumpkin? Let’s have some fun, I’ll take you for a ride. Wanna blow up something? Hmmm? Deal?” J cupped your face, caressing it with his thumbs until he got fed up with that too. “Jeez, Doll, why are you doing this to me?” he would finally rest his head on your tummy, pouting, not liking the fact that you were still like that after 3 weeks.

* “Princess, do you remember when I got angry and I shot you in the leg and you stabbed me? You were soooo pissed,” he snickered, kissing your hand. “We almost killed each other that day.” His crazy laughter filled the room again. “Ahhhh, good times, Doll…” he sighed, delighted at that treasured remembrance.

* J thought you need more tattoos, it was about time he gave you another one. He tattooed “Wake Up” all around your right hand wrist, like a bracelet, and a lot of “I love J” and “Sleepy Head” going up your arm just like bracelet charms . “You like it, Pumpkin?” he brought it closer to your face and when you didn’t react he just replied, proud of himself: “I think I did really good.”

* He pushed the girl he brought from the club inside and she was so scared she was shaking like a leaf.

“ Y/N, if you don’t wake up in 5 seconds, I’m getting a new girlfriend!” J shove her right on your bed. “ 5,4,3,2… 2 and a half…1…one and a half…Doll, come on!!!… Zero!”  Nothing. “Get the hell out of here!” he pushed the girl and she run out of the room so fast she almost fell when she opened the door. “Shit, that didn’t work,” he passed his fingers through his green hair, sulking. Another week went by.

* The Joker brought in a target matt and hanged it on the wall in front of you. He liked to place his gun in your hand, holding it with his, aim and shoot at the target. “Perfect, Y/N, this way you don’t lose practice. You’re such a good girl,” he would kiss your knuckles, smiling and then frowning when he realized you didn’t even know he was there.

* First time you opened your eyes was after 4 more weeks. It was late at night and J was on his laptop,still awake, looking at all the naughty pics you always sent him. He noticed the movement and jumped out of bed, not really believing you’re awake.

“Jesus, Princess, it was about time! I’m sooo horny,” he whispered in your ear and grinned when he noticed your chest going up and down in a silent, faint laughter.

“…My… poor… baby…” you barely uttered, struggling to reach his pale face and he purred, relieved, firmly holding your shaky fingers on his cheek since you couldn’t do it on your own. “…What…happened?…”


At first, you had a really hard time using your left side of the body. You had bad days and good days. On your bad days you used one of J’s canes to walk around. He used to hide it and watch you struggle, scoffing:

“You don’t need a cane, Doll. Just walk, you’re fine!”

You held on to the wall, fighting really hard to keep your balance.

“I do need it, give it back!”

“Nope,” he simply stated, observing you from the couch until you got to your old room where he still kept the target matt so you can practice shooting again. It almost brought you to tears when you kept on missing; such an embarrassment for a skilled assassin. But it was so hard to control your left hand that kept on trembling. The Joker always sneaked to watch you since you kept the door opened and it made him uneasy to see you were so distressed. And it made him even tenser when he noticed he still liked his broken Doll.

First time you were able to have sex again after your recovery was… challenging. (And to be honest, many more times afterwards.)

He started complaining after 5 minutes :

“Christ, Y/N, your hand is twitching around my neck, it’s freaking me out! Stop it!” and he kissed you again, annoyed.

“Well, baby, I can’t control it, you know that! Especially when I get…excited,” you panted, adjusting your head on the pillow.

“Why are you excited?” J snickered. “Hey, keep your legs around my waist, you know I like it,” he moaned in your ear, kissing his way down your neck.

“I can’t, my left leg keeps on sliding down, I can’t even feel it anymore. I’m sorry, baby,” you arched your back, giggling, amused on how worked up he was about it.

“Can you get on your knees, Doll?”

“I doubt it,” you fakely sobbed, wanting him to shut up and make love to you.

“Can you get on top of me?”

A snarl coming from you gave him the answer.

“Can we do it against the wall?”

You slapped his side, aggravated.

“Jeez, woman, what can you do?!” You covered his mouth, impatient.

“I’m just gonna lay here, ok? That’s all I can offer for now. I’m…helpless so you can totally take advantage of me,” you winked, uncovering his lips so you can kiss him.

“Hmm, I never took advantage of a …ummm…incapacitated person before,” The Joker smirked, suddenly liking the idea.

“Good, because I thought you like challenges,” you laughed, content he is finally satisfied.

“Ohhh, Daddy never backs out from a challenge, Pumpkin,” he gave you that devilish look and pulled your hair while pinning your hands above your head. “This way you don’t freak me out with your twitchy hand.”

“Jerk…” you moaned, lifting your head so you can kiss his Jester tattoo.

“You wait until you see what Daddy has in store for you and then we’ll talk about it…yes?” he closed his eyes, enjoying feeling you again. It made him so ecstatic.


After 3 more months you are better, but not fully recovered.

He tosses his gun on the floor and urges you to get it.

“Come on, Princess, be sexy for me. Bend over and grab that gun! I’ll pay you!” and he pushes the pile of hundred dollars from his desk on the floor.
“Are you serious?” you lift your gaze from your phone, not knowing if he meant it or not. You’ve been fighting a lot recently and his behavior towards you changed.

“Yes, do it,” he hums, putting the map aside and rolling away on his chair so he can see you better.

“ ‘Kaaayyyy,” you do as asked, and half way through your left leg gives out and you land on your knees.

“Wow, that’s pathetic!” he hisses, and you feel your face burning. “Seriously, I don’t even know why I keep you around: you’re crippled, you can’t kill for me, you’re not great in bed anymore and I’m sick of waiting for you to recover. As you are fully aware, I don’t like broken things, hence it’s time for you to go,” J barks at you and you just watch him, stunned.

“W-what are you talking about?! I’m so much better and I am getting better. I AM NOT crippled!” you almost yell, struggling to get on your feet, not understanding what’s going on.

“You’re useless, that’s what you are!” The Joker raises his voice, having a hard time controlling his temper. “I want you out of here!”

“Are you serious?!” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, thinking about his cold behavior lately. That’s why, he’s just sick of you.   “After…all these years?”

He sarcastically grunts, crossing his arms on his chest:

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?! OUT! Don’t make me repeat myself; you can stay tonight so you can sort out the things you want to take.”

“I…I don’t need anything, I have my own stuff,” you reply, backing out slowly, trying to swallow the lump in your throat and maintain your equilibrium.

“God, you’re soooo pitiful, still can’t control your body. How am I even supposed to be with someone like you?! The King of Gotham needs perfection, not trash.”

You gasp, feeling your heart beating faster and faster.

“I am the Queen of Gotham, with or without you, not trash!”  

“Used to be Queen, Doll, now look at you: just another lost cause. Don’t test my patience, get out of here.” He points out towards the elevator.  “ Awwww, are those tears? You never cry. I told you you’re pathetic and broken, this proves what I just said.”

You shake your head, turning around and limping towards the elevator, tripping on the carpet because your bad leg is misbehaving. You hear him laugh:
“Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha! So useless!”

You swallow your tears all the way down when your cell rings. You see it’s your informant and you answer right away:

“When Mister J is going to his “Savage” club tonight, it will be an ambush: Sully’s men; they’ll try to kill him. Pass the word.”

“Thank you, Axel,” you mumble, turning off your phone and placing back in your pocket.

I am not telling him anything, the jerk deserves anything coming his way! You decide as you reach the basement’s garage and the elevator’s door open. Let them kill him.


First thing you do when you get to your apartment is wash away the neon green highlights from your bright red hair. It makes you feel better until the little thoughts pop in your mind: “Are you going to let them kill him?”, “Yes, I don’t care.” “But…it’s J.” “I really don’t care; his men can protect him if they can.” “But…it’s J.”

“Ughhhh,” you cover your face with the small pillow, attempting to erase any feelings you might have from your conscience. “But…it’s J…Come on, it’s J…” the idea keeps on repeating and echoing in your mind until you get up from the loveseat, exasperated.

“Shit, fine, I’m going, just shut the hell up!” you admonish yourself, looking in the mirror. “The asshole doesn’t deserve me…” you conclude, getting the duffle bag with your rifle out of the closet.


You go and place yourself on the top of the tallest building, about half a mile away from “Savage”. You watch everything through the scope, but so far nothing out of place. Your left hand is shaky again and you put so much effort into controlling it you’re starting to sweat. “Not now, please” you reason with your weak side of the body, cracking your neck. Another two hours pass by and you finally see The Joker’s Lamborghini approaching followed by 3 SUV’s.

You wipe your forehead and concentrate more, looking around carefully as he parks and gets out of the car. Suddenly, you see the four men in black suits, wearing running shoes and you know it’s them: Sully’s men trademark attire. They approach from different angles and you wait until they are fairly close to the Joker and his henchmen. They noticed the assassins too and surrounded J, protecting him. He takes out his gun, waiting, and he watches as suddenly one by one they fall to the ground, their brains splattered on the concrete.

He lifts his eyes, searching the buildings around as his goons get him to his car so he can safely leave. Three more assassins start running towards his Lamborghini and you shot again, the last one collapsing right in front of the Joker’s car. He looks up, but he sure doesn’t have the right building you’re on top of. He knows it’s you and bites on his cheek, growling, taking off with his men before the cops show up.

You wipe your forehead, exhausted, resting your head on the trigger:

“I’m not pathetic and broken.”     Did you want to prove that to him or yourself? Probably both.


J drove straight back to the penthouse, laying low for the rest of the night. He gets in bed, trying to sleep and can’t because you’re not there. He looks at your empty side of the bed and moves over, burring his face in your pillow-it smells like you. Another hour and he’s still awake, tossing and turning.

“I don’t like broken things,” he whispers, opening his eyes just to see your items scattered all over the bedroom since you didn’t take anything with you. It really makes uncomfortable realizing he feels the exact opposite of not liking you. Or so he believes.

“I really don’t like broken things,” he gets mad, exasperated, forcing himself not to think of anything.


The sound of your cane hitting the wood floor startles you and you wake up, leaning over so you can reach and turn on the lamp. You see The Joker kicking it again, and again.

“Stupid piece of crap!” he shouts, his green hair all over his face.

“What are you doing here?!” you rub your eyes, not glad to see him at all. “Get out!”

He just comes over and yanks at your hand:

“Let’s go, Doll, you’re coming back, I can’t sleep without you.”

“Screw you!” you pull back, upset he broke into your apartment and has the nerve to act like nothing happened.

“Yes, you can do that too, you naughty girl, I know you can’t wait,” he tries to yank you away again.

The evil glare you give him makes him stop and he regains his posture, sighing:

“You’re coming back; you know I can’t sleep without you.”

“I don’t care!!!!” you cover your body with the blanket like it’s going to help any. He sees your watery eyes and decides to drop it.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep here.” He goes around the bed and gets under the blanket, scooting over so he can be close to you. “Now shut up, I have to sleep, I’m tired as hell!” He places his head on your pillow, waiting for you to get down and join him. You watch him with indignation, sniffling, and kick him:

“Get out of my apartment!”

The Joker ignores your behavior and decides to talk with his eyes closed:

“I don’t like broken things…”
“I’m not a broken thing you presumptuous …” you start your rant, getting ready to kick him again when he interrupts:

“…but you’re my favorite thing. Good, I thought that would shut you up,” he grins, forcefully pulling you in his arms as you struggle to escape. “Ahhhhh, I like it when you’re feisty. Queens are feisty…” he nuzzles in your hair for a few seconds then pecs your lips and holds you tighter. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your green highlights are gone. They’ll be back first thing in the morning, got it?”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” you try to make a comeback but he cuts you short again:

“The hell I can’t! Now shut up, I’m so worn out,” he gets your left leg around his waist and holds it, this way you’re glued to him. “There, I know you can’t hold it yourself.”

When you don’t answer he opens one eye and sees you stare at him with that hurt expression on your face that makes him uneasy.

“Stop it, Pumpkin, I really need to rest,” J kisses your forehead and you whimper, upset:

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Pffft,” he scoffs, “is that supposed to be news to me? Now zip it and I mean it,” he scolds you, annoyed.

“Jerk…” you faintly mumble before closing your eyes.

He just smiles, knowing he will finally be able to doze off.



It Always Starts As Friends: A Kol Mikaelson Imagine

Request from Anon: Hello love could you possibly do one with kol where you’re best friends and get jealous when he starts to hang out with davina a lot. Maybe the reader and kol end up together or something just a whole bunch of angst and fluff please? sorry if it’s really descriptive.

I’m so sorry that this has taken so long, but I hope you like it. Also for the purpose of this imagine in relation to the gif, just imagine the reader is Davina (it was the best one I could find and Kolvina is too perfect). Enjoy x 

There was only one word for what you were feeling. It was not a word you often used, nor was it one that you particularly liked. It also meant that you had the potential to be a cliche, which was something you most definitely did not to be. 

It started to bubble up when your best friend, Kol Mikaelson, started hanging around with Davina Claire. They were laughing and smiling at the young witch’s failed attempt to perform a simple spell that Kol was trying to teach her. 

It started to overheat when you saw the way Davina looked at him. It was the way you had seen many girls look at him before, with awe and admiration, like he was the only thing that mattered. However, it had never bothered you this much before. 


A voice came from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Turning, you saw Niklaus, his own signature smirk, which was very different from Kol’s, prominent on his face. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Jealousy. I believe that’s what you call what you’re feeling right now, Y/N. And I must tell you, you definitely do not suit it.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not jealous.”

Klaus rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure about that love? It just seems to me that if you keep staring at Davina Claire in that way, you’re probably going to burn a hole in her head. And before you start protesting that my little brother is your purely platonic best friend, I’ll remind you that you’re not the first to fall for my brother, nor will you be the last. No-one’s going to blame you for feeling that way.”

Klaus walked away, leaving you to chew on his words. 

It was true that ever since Kol had come back from the dead, you had felt a stronger bond with him. One that was much stronger than the string that was friendship. 

It wasn’t until Davina kissed Kol on the cheek before leaving that you truly accepted it. 

You were in love with Kol Mikaelson. 

“Told you.”

“Oh shut up, Klaus. Just tell me what to do.”

Klaus’ advice was far from helpful when you told him that he was right. He seemed more focused in bathing in the glory of being right than actually tackling the problem. 

Leaving him to his own devices, you decided to think it over in your room. It had been two days since you’d given into your feelings for your best friend, and as a result had tried to avoid him at every cost. 

It was torture. 

It was torture not seeing his flawless face, not ruffling that silky hair, not looking into those beautiful brown eyes. It was torture not seeing his smile, his smirk, his smug expression whenever he was right. It was torture not hearing his laugh, the noise that was music to your ears. 

It was torture not being near him. 

Elijah had told you that Kol had been spending more and more time with Davina, her affections for him clearly growing each day as he taught her magic. 

Sighing, you fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist. It was one Kol had given you on your birthday so many years ago, your birthstone dangling from it, refracting any light that shined off it. 

“Why did I have to fall in love with you, Kol Mikaelson?”

“You love me?”

Eyes widening at the sound of Kol’s voice, you looked up at him standing in the doorway. The look of shock on his face matched yours. He had clearly heard. 

“Um, what are you doing here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, I came to see what’s wrong. But never mind that, I think we should discuss what you just said.”

You struggled for words, backing away towards the head of the bed as Kol sat on the edge of it, staring at you intently. 


“Love me.”

“Um, yes. Although you weren’t supposed to hear that. I mean, you were supposed to hear that, just not yet. I mean,-”

Your words were cut off when Kol placed his lips on yours. The kiss was sudden, passionate, everything you had imagined and more. He pulled you closer to him, his hands on the small of your back as he set your heart on fire. 

When both of you pulled apart for air, and the fire in your chest extinguished, he tucked a lonely piece of hair behind your ear, smiling at you. 

“What was that for?”

He looked down, his nose gently knocking against yours. You shivered, the feeling of his skin on yours enough to make you think you were dreaming. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, Y/N,” as he spoke, he began to fiddle with that bracelet on your wrist, before taking your hand and drawing patterns on your palm. 

“When you’ve been alive for a thousand years, there’s always the possibility that at some point you’re going to become a character in a story. A generic story where the guy gets the girl and everything’s happy-go-lucky. Everything’s easy. Even us Mikaelsons, who constantly put people in danger, who have trouble following them around like a bloody lost puppy, get it sometimes. Klaus with Hope, and then again with Cami. Elijah with Hayley. I guess it was only a matter of time before I got it too.”

You cupped his cheek, not quite understanding where he was going with this. 

“What are you talking about, Kol?”

This time, as he spoke, the patterns on your palm ceased to exist, and his brown eyes set sight on you. 

“I’m talking about the fact that in these generic stories, it always starts as friends. And to be honest, I was hoping it would be you. I guess what I’m saying is, I love you Y/N Y/L/N. Always have, always will.”

You kissed him again, throwing yourself into the hurricane that would become the story of Y/N Y/L/N and Kol Mikaelson. 

home - us!sans x reader

So for fanfic Friday, how about us sans with an s/o in a band who just came back home from tour

pairing: sans x reader

summary: touring the world is fun, but when you see the small, blue scarf tied around your wrist…you finally feel like you’ve seen enough. it’s time to go home.

notes: oh my gosh i love writing the blueberry. he is. so pure. i love him.here u go sweet anon i give you fluffs.

You originally planned to tour throughout the winter and late into spring. 6 months of nonstop travel, to Europe and Asia, When you found out, you were extremely excited. You could take Sans with you, and show him everything he hasn’t seen with his own eyes yet! The thought of the childlike skeleton, of his joy as he’d see the world…You wanted to give him so much more, and this will do for now.

Keep reading

Showers and Feelings ➸ Brett Talbot

Request: Could you please write a Brett one where the reader’s Liam’s best friend and she naturally doesn’t like Brett but Stiles forces them to stay at home together to watch over someone and they end up doing it in the shower?

IM BAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK i apologize for taking so long anon but here it isss!!!!! not as smutty as it could have been but vvvvvv fluffy






“No. Absolutely not!”

Stiles sighs at your stubbornness. “Please Y/N,” the he pleads with you, “Please, we need you to watch him, just this once.”

“Are you kidding me, Stiles?” you growl, E/C eyes flashing blue, “It’s not about that. But you expect me, while you go out looking for this Benefactor, for me to stay home with the giraffe over here and some random ass beta?” Brett growls and bares his canines at your words. You only sneer at him before letting out a challenging snarl. Brett roars in provocation and advances towards you, eyes glowing, teeth bared, claws extended. But you weren’t afraid. You felt your own canines slide over your lip, and then a chick is heard as you reveal your sharpened claws.

“Bring it, Talbot,” you jeer as he let’s out yet another growl. And then he’s rushing at you. A few feet in front of you, Brett leaps in the air and raises a clawed hand to slash at you. You push yourself off the wall behind you and meet him halfway. The two of you crash in midair and fall to the ground. Brett slashes at your face and you go for his throat with your teeth. You roar in pain as the Talbot boy’s claws drag across your face, easily breaking the soft flesh. Blood drips down your face as you catch his wrist in your mouth, biting down so that the bone fractures. He snarls and struggles against your powerful hold. You release him with a howl of pain when his claws dig into your stomach. Writhing out of his grip on the floor, you deliver a two-legged kick to Brett’s chest and the he shoots away from you.

Brett cradles his injured hand and multiple cracks are heard as his body puts his bones back into place. You hiss as you feel your own wound mending and the skin flowing back together. Your fangs have dulled but your eyes remain glowing a steel blue as you get up and face Brett once again. You snarl at him, hatred burning in his own eyes as you stare each other down.

As you raise your hand to rip his throat out, a roar is emitted from Scott. Your Alpha’s eyes are blood red, and his multitude of sharpened canines were showing as he roared. Both you and Brett are thrown back by an invisible force, though it affected you more than he. You’re immediately shifted back to your human form as you hit the wall. Clawing at your ears, you whimper, just the noise made by your Alpha was hurting you. You whimper again, your body being  wracked by tremors from an unknown source. Liam is by your side in less than a second on his knees.

“Scott,” Liam growls, “What did you do?”

“I was being her Alpha.”

Eventually the tremors stop and you get up with only slight discomfort, Liam at your side, shooting you an apologetic glance You narrow your eyes at Brett before turning to Scott and Stiles.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “Please.”

“Fine,” you say with a tone so cold, you scared yourself, “You owe me.”



“What, Brett?” you respond, exasperated beyond caring.

“I’m sorry.”

What? You turn to the Talbot boy and raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

Brett shifted awkwardly, staring at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm… sorry? For, you know, attacking you, and clawing you, and-and ripping your shirt, and um-” he motions to the blood, cuts, and rips that seem to cover your body all too often since you’ve met Scott McCall and Derek Hale. In the 3 years that you’ve known Brett Talbot, you’ve never seen him like this. Awkward, nervous even.

“Wait, wai-wai-wai-wai-wait,” you hold up a hand to stop Brett’s rambling. “Is Brett Talbot, apologizing to me? Wow, what a day! Do you mind if I can just record it?”

“Stop it!” You laugh at Brett’s disbelieving face. “I’m serious, I-I really am sorry.”

Your gaze flickers to the ground as your lips begin to curl into a smile and Brett can’t help as a grin spreads across his face. “You’re forgiven.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Really?” When you nod, a sigh of relief escapes Brett’s mouth. He steps towards you, toned abs showing through the claw marks that you had left in his shirt. Brett takes another step, and against your instincts, you don’t take a step back. Hesitantly, Brett raises his hand, and pauses, before reaching towards your face. He uses his middle and ring finger to brush your hair out of your face. Brett’s ears twitch at the sound out your heartbeat quickening. Ironically, you can hear his own heart racing.

Brett towers over you, tracing a line of blood across your cheek, the skin smooth underneath as you had healed hours ago. He let’s out a breathy laugh through his nose as he continues to stroke your cheek. Your eyes follow his hand, to his wrist, where a braided leather bracelet was tied, up his arm, to the pulled-up sleeve of his long sleeve shirt. Your eyes linger on his shoulder, the muscles bulging, even as he was relaxed, then to his neck, stopping for a moment on his jawline, then to his lips, which were quirked into a trifling smile, and finally to his eyes. His bright green eyes were soft, gazing at you with such tenderness you didn’t think was possible towards you from the Talbot boy.

Your hand lifted and covered Brett’s own on your cheek. Brett cocks his head to the side, and barely, just barely, leans down to close the distance between his lips and your own. Brett leans in a little more and you breathe in sharply as he gazes at your lips, his eyes flickering yellow for just a moment. Brett closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. “You- uh, you should probably go shower,” his hand falls from your face, dragging yours with him. Brett squeezes your hand, “Go, I can watch Bailey until you’re done.”

You nod and allow Brett’s hand to slip from your grasp. Brett can’t help but watch as you leave and begin to climb the stairs. You pause for a moment and for a second, Brett hopes that you might stay, but you turn away from him and make your way up to Scott’s room.


As you open a drawer to grab some of your clothes that are kept at Scott’s house, you grimace at the box of condoms on the shelf. Kira, you thought, before shuddering and digging out an old t-shirt of your brother’s and a pair of sweats, a bra, panties, and socks. You connect your phone to a speaker and place them both on the counter. You had already turned on the water to make sure that it was warm by the time you climbed in.

You sigh in relief as the warm water hits your back. Reaching for the body wash, you lather it over you hand and scrub your body, scrubbing roughly at the blood on your face, your arms, and your sides. You wince as the water turns pink from the blood of your now-healed injuries. You just stand there and watch as the pink water pales until it returns to the normal transparent color. Blindly, you reach for the shampoo, but instead knock into it. You watch it fall to the shower floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching down to grab the bottle from the tile. Your hands close around it and you bring it up to squeeze some into your hair. You massage your head slowly as the water washes the shampoo away. The conditioner came next, the cream softening your hair under the spray of water. You sigh as you sit down and allow the water to hit your back. You don’t realize how much time has passed as you just sit there and think. You didn’t know why you and Brett hated each other as much as you did. You shouldn’t. Lydia had told you many times that if you hadn’t hated each other as much as you say you did, you would be perfect for each other. Allison used to tell you the same, whenever you complained about the “asshat my parents make me hang out with.”

Allison. She didn’t deserve her death. None of your friends did. Not Erica, not Boyd, not Aiden, but Allison most of all didn’t deserve what happened to her. You can’t help but picture her face as the Oni stabbed her through the stomach. You picture Scott’s face. You picture Argent’s face. But most of all, you can hear your own deafening scream, mixing with Lydia’s until you can’t differentiate between them. A sob escapes your lips as you return to your body. And you remember, Allison has been dead for nigh over a year now. Tears fall from your eyes and mix with the water dripping down your face as memories of Allison run through your head.

The sobs that wracked your body ceased after a little while and eventually you stood, allowing the water to cascade over your whole body. Slowly your brain began to fall into a sort of lull, and nothing went through your head. You just stood there, staring at the tile in front of you. And then you felt a touch to the middle of your back.


“Y/N,” he murmurs softly, dragging his fingertips up your back to your bare shoulder. You were numb at this point, you couldn’t feel anything. And Brett knew this; it would happen to his sister sometimes after their parents died. You had lost too many people, and he knew exactly how to coax you out of your stupor. “Y/N,” he whispers into your ear again. “It’s alright, Y/N, you’re alright. I promise.” His breath hits the back of your neck as his tongue traces the shell of your ear. Your eyes slowly begin to focus at the action, finally becoming conscious of the man standing behind you.

“Brett?” you say quietly, “Where’s Bailey?” “Scott called, it’s over.” Brett’s answer was short and curt.

“What are you doing?” you breath as the werewolf wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your back to his chest. “Brett, what-what are you do-” You break off with gasp as Brett’s lips land on your neck.

“I want to show you how sorry I am,” he hums into your skin. His kisses don’t stop as you tilt your head to the side. “I’m sorry.” Brett’s lips brush over your pulse point and you gasp, letting your head fall against the torso of the giant mix between man and wolf standing behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“Brett, you-you’re forgiven,” you stutter as he continues to mouth at the flesh covering your pulse, “I-I said you’re forgiven.” Brett’s dulled fangs graze your skin and you whimper, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe. “Brett. Brett.”

“Yes, darling?”

Your breath hitches at the pet name that fell from his lips. When you don’t answer, Brett lowers his head back to your neck. A moan of his name slips unwillingly from your mouth.

“I just want to make it up to you, darling,” Brett rasps in your ear, “Show you exactly how sorry I am.” A shiver runs down your skin at his words, and you tilt your head even further, if possible. One of his hands snakes down your arm to intertwine your fingers with his. His other hand - oh, his other hand - stays locked around your waist, massaging your hips with the pad of his thumb, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. “Just relax, darling.”

And you do. Your muscles relax and your head lolls back into Brett’s chest. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, placing kiss after kiss into your neck. “It’s alright darling, you’re alright,” Brett murmurs, slowly turning you around to face him. One of his hands is still around your waist, while the other rises up slowly to brush your dripping hair out of your face.

And finally - finally - Brett leans in and kisses you. It feels as if it’s in slow motion. He glances at your lips before looking back to your eyes, searching for permission. Your expression says it all. You want this. Him. But just to be clear, you give a slight nod of your head. That’s all Brett needs before attaching your lips together.

His lips are soft and smooth. Gentle. He kisses you as if you’ll break. His thumb caresses your cheek as you respond to his touch. Your own arms come up to wrap around his neck. He’s tall, so much so that you have to pull him down by the neck in order to run your fingers through his hair. Brett moans softly when you tug at his hair. The werewolf pulls you closer to him, if possible, and deepens the kisses, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, then taking your top lip between his teeth.

“Brett,” comes the soft whimper from your mouth into his own. He hums in response, not once breaking apart from you. Brett gently backs you up into the shower wall, grip still tight around you. You whimper his name again when Brett separates your lips. His tall frame stares down at you with such tenderness and adoration that you can feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin crumbling. “Brett,” you breathe once more.”

The Talbot boy’s eyes flash yellow at the way to say his name and he’s having a hard time keeping his wolf in check. “I-” he begins, but cuts himself off and starts over, “Are you sure, Y/N? Are you sure you want this? If I start, Y/N, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. Tell me you want this, Y/N. please, tell me.”

“Brett.” You stand up on the tips of your toes, and you still weren’t tall enough. He bends down slightly to hear your answer. “I want this, Brett,” you breathe against his pink, swollen lips, “I want you.” Brett moans at your words, and drags his fingertips up your sides. Your breath hitches at the action, anticipation for what was to come becoming the only thought in your head.

“Brett, please.”

He doesn’t answer you, only continues his gentle exploration of your body, gentle, absentminded touches memorizing every inch like the lines to his old favorite song. His hands are gentle with you, as if you’re so fragile that you’ll shatter beneath him if he presses too hard.


Your plea of his name brings him out of his daze. He was so mesmerized by you, it was like he couldn’t live without you. Underneath all the hate filled glares, the snide comments, the arguing; beneath all of that, Brett couldn’t help but be totally, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with you. Brett finally kisses you again, before sliding his hands back down your waist to cup your thighs. Without faltering in the kiss, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He so tall that you squeal for a moment, breaking your lips from his.

“I’m not used to being this far off the ground,” you mumble, blushing embarrassedly. Brett’s lips part before letting out an unattractive snort. Soon he’s full on laughing. “Bretttt,” you whine, it’s not funny.”

“I-It’s just,” he said between chuckles, “you’re so small. It’s so cute.” Brett kisses you again, peppering kisses all over your face, jaw, cheeks, neck, and lips. “God, you’re beautiful,” Brett gushes, “So beautiful.”

You whimper softly at his words and push your hips against his. “Brett, hurry up, God damn it.” Brett complies, finally. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I love you,” he breathes as he ever so slowly slips into you. His confession shocks you and you gape at him, before your eyes roll back into your head. He keeps pushing into you and soon he filled you to the hilt.

“Say it!” you gasp out, needing to his hear his confession once more.

I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. All of you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve ever done to you. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

“Brett!” you gasp as he pulls back and slams his hips back into yours. “Brett! I love you too! Oh! My! Go-!” Brett presses his lips to yours fervently, whispering sweet nothings against your mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers again, and it wouldn’t be the last time he said it. Brett drops his head to the crook of your neck, a “you’re so beautiful” falling from his lips and causing you to flush against his body.

The more Brett collides his hips with yours, the harder it becomes for you to control yourself. You grip his shoulder with one hand, while the other tangles into and tugs at his damp hair. The water from the shower head is hitting his back, spraying off of his muscled body and protecting you from the drizzle. You just about fall apart when Brett thrusts up into you at a new angle, hitting a spot inside you you didn’t even know existed.

“Brett!” you nearly scream his name as he repeats his action. Brett continues to place kisses along your neck and jaw, whispering for you to come for him.

“You can do it,” Brett murmurs into your ear, “You can do it darling, come for me. Come all over me. I love you. Come for me.”

And you do. You cry out Brett’s name multiple times as your orgasm hits you, writhing in his strong arms that are still wrapped around your body. Brett groans as you clench around him, and that alone is enough to send him over the edge. Brett’s eyes turn yellow and his fangs protrude from his gums as he sends thick streams of cum into your body. As the two of you come down from your high, he presses his forehead to yours. He laughs breathily against your lips and kisses you gently.

“I love you,” he says once more, “I mean it. I really do. I love you.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. “I love you too, Brett.

But how are we going to tell Scott we had sex in his shower?”

The Joker x Reader - “Auntie D”

All villains get paired up by the Dark Shadows World - “Match Made in Hell (MMIH)” Division. It’s always such a challenge to find a suitable match for The Joker. Good thing you’re still around.

“What about her?” one of the entities points out and the others attending the meeting are fast to disagree.

“No way, he’ll kill her in a week!”

“She’s not strong enough to keep up with him!” another one vociferates.

“He’ll eat her for breakfast and burry the leftovers,” the leader concludes and the contendent is dismissed.

“Oh, what about that one?” someone points out towards the woman and nobody’s happy with the new choice.

“Are you kidding me?! She’s such a wimp; no way she can handle The Clown Prince of Crime!”

“Wouldn’t last two days,” another committee member complains.

“Bad choice!” more and more object.

“I’m so sick of this, we have the hardest time finding him a girlfriend,” the youngest entity sighs and suddenly you are seen on the board.

“What about Y/N?”

“Didn’t we try before and it didn’t work?” one recalls, intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s been a while. I always thought they should have stayed together, they can handle each other. How did they break up?”

“Something about him being selfish and her not paying attention to him,” the boss remembers.

“That’s it?! We can fix this, I see she has no match yet either. We’re running out of options so I think we should make it happen again and go with the flow. No better choice. Y/N is in the same building with The Joker as we speak and we’ll have to force things a bit but it could work. All in favor, raise your hands. Oh, right, we don’t have any.”

Just a bunch of shapeless Dark Shadows.

“Yes, yes, might as well, it’s frustrating to keep on meeting about this problem.”

“Agree, I’m sick of it myself. Let’s do it!” the youngest entity impatiently speaks.

“They are so close to one another, we need to act NOW.”

“Proceed,” the leader gives its blessing and…


You and The Joker almost - kind of- sort of –nearly…well … definitely had a thing going about a year ago. You are actually thinking about that at the present moment as you crawl through the vents of “Diamond Emporium” store so you can get to the goodies.

Mister J is there on a heist with his men and you have no clue about each other’s presence…yet.

MMIH Division is taking care of it.

You suddenly hear the cracking sounds under you and before you can move another inch the ceiling gives out and you land right in front of your ex, almost killing Panda in the process.

“I’ll be damned, Frost, a fallen angel ! Is it Christmas already?” J grins, instantly recognizing you. “What are you doing here, Doll?”

You gather yourself from the floor, dusting debris off your clothes, grateful you didn’t break anything.

“Same thing as you, J: making sure the air ducts are clean.”

“Ha!” he snorts, signaling his guys to spread around so they can collect as many items as possible.

“Sir, the seif is over there,” Frost announces and you turn around to look.

“Want me to open it for you?” you offer, this way you can get a few things as payment instead of The Joker getting everything. You know how he operates: too bad he had the same wretched idea of robbing the place in the same time with you.

J debates and decides after a few seconds:

“Are you as fast as you used to be?”

“Faster,” you smile, fixing your hair.

“OK then, go for it,” your former boyfriend pouts, watching you head over the seif. A very sparkly necklace gets your attention so you break the small glass case and get it out, tossing it to the ground after analyzing it.

“Too shiny,” you answer J’s soundless question when he looks your way with an intrigued expression on his face.

“Too shiny?!” he repeats. “Since when a woman complains about diamonds being too shiny?! Never heard of it before,” he grinds his teeth, puzzled.

You just lift your shoulders up, you don’t need to explain your taste in sparkly stones – he should know that by now.

Jonny is waiting by the seif and you just have to say it:

“My, my, Frost, you always look so sharp in your perfect tailored suits. I love men that dress fancy for every occasion.”

Frost straightens his back, pleased at your compliment:

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Oh, please, don’t let me interrupt your flirting,” The Joker shouts. “Can we finish this faster? We need to move out !”

Ahhhh, he’s getting annoyed, one of his “qualities” you like so much.

You start your work and J is messing around with his cane. He doesn’t want to bring it up but when does he ever know how to control himself?

“What’s wrong with my outfit, hmm?”

“Huh?” you stop what you’re doing so you can hear him.

“What’s wrong with my outfit? Since …ummm…apparently you like guys in suits. I wasn’t aware.”

You stare at his attire: no shirt -  just the purple coat, Batsy shorts and boots. About 4 heavy gold chains around his neck, a handful of bracelets on his wrists and a bunch of rings on his fingers.

“Nothing, it looks…good,” you smirk, getting back to your stuff and…done.
“My God, you are faster!” The Joker exclaims, forgetting he was irritated about your earlier statement.

“I just want a few things; you know me: I’m not greedy.”

“Go ahead,” he agrees as you open the seif.

“I want this one…and this one…” you pick what strikes your fancy, excited at the excellent quality.

“What is this?” he frowns, pulling out a chocolate bar from a small drawer inside the seif.

“Weird, why would you keep chocolate with diamonds?” you inquire, surprised.

“Maybe one of those sentimental souvenirs for someone working here?” J tries to guess, disgusted at the thought.

“How dumb, you think so?”

“Maybe,” he glares at the bar, scoffing.

“Is it expired?” you bite your cheek, in mood for sweets.

“Nope, still good.”

“Can I have it?” you reach your hand and he gives it to you.

“Suit yourself, Doll.”

“I think that’s all I want. I’m done,” and you rip the plastic foil, beginning to munch on the chocolate.

The Joker’s henchmen stashed a lot of diamonds in bags and you linger around for a bit.

“I heard you have a kid,” J sniffles, puckering his lips.

“Yes, I’m taking care of my niece. My sister died last year, shortly after we…e-hem…went our separate ways,” you bring him up to date since he’s gazing at you with those hypnotizing blue eyes, expecting a briefing.

“She died?” he replies, not really giving a crap and you are aware of it.

“Car accident,” you mumble and your eyes get teary, saddened at the memory.

“That sucks.”

That’s the best he can say for “I’m Sorry” in Joker language. Thank goodness you speak that language.

“It does…” you whimper, trying to keep it together.

“We finished, sir!” Frost announces and you are glad for the interruption.

“I’m going then,” you back out, holding tight to your backpack.

“I might need you again, Y/N. Your skills have improved even more. I have a heist in 2 days, 3 seifs inside Gotham Bank. Interested?”

“Yes, of course,” you mumble, wanting to hurry up and run before the cops show up.

“Want me to pick you up?” J offers.

“Sure, I’ll text you the address.”

“You don’t have my new phone number,” he yells before you disappear behind the stairs.

“I’m an excellent hacker, I’ll figure it out!” you scream back before sneaking through the gap in the wall J’s henchmen opened for themselves to get in.


You managed to get J’s phone number and text him your address ; it was a piece of cake. Yummm, cake…you love sweets. Anyway…

He came to pick you up for the robbery, wearing… a suit. Dark green. Looks ravishing on him, not that you pay attention to such details.

You are going to take a shower and get ready. In the meantime, he’s left alone in the living room with Mikah, your niece.

She’s 7, going on 40.

MMIH Division’s strongest ally and she’s not even aware.

“I know who you are, I saw you on TV,” the girl inspects J, curious to hear him speak.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, plus Auntie D has pictures of you on her cell.”
“You don’t say!” J grins, suddenly more interested in the conversation.

“Are you a bad man, mister?” Mikah wants to know right from the source.

“Yeah,” the short answer confirms it.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“NO!” J growls, hoping you’re coming back soon.

“My aunt says she has the biggest crush on you,” the kid reports, not understanding why.

“Does she now?”

“U-hum, she talks about you quite a lot.” The little girl tightens her pony tails. “Hey, mister, are you single?”

“Supposedly,” he rolls his eyes, wishing she would shut up.

“Auntie D too. You should take her on a date.”

This feels like an interrogation: The Joker is the one that likes to ask questions, not the other way around.

Mikah just ignores his earlier reply and places herself in his lap. J doesn’t know how to react. She touches his face and he tils his head backwards because surely doesn’t like to be touched by strangers.

“Are you shy?” she bounces her legs, giggling.

“No, kid, I’m not.”

“Why do you have tattoos on your face?”

“Because I wanted them there, that’s why.”

“Auntie D says you are very handsome. I guess you are…in a strange way. Why do you look different? Auntie says we shouldn’t judge people for being different.”

Why can’t she quit talking?! J thinks. Is there a turn off button somewhere?

“Do you dye your hair?” she caresses the green locks, smitten with the wild color.

“No, it grows like this.”

“I think that’s cool. What happened to your teeth? Why are they silver?”

“Do you ever shut up?!” your ex snaps, fed up with the questionnaire.

“No, only when I sleep, ” your niece innocently blurs out. Mikah notices the numerous tattoos under the almost unbutton shirt. “Untie D loves guys with tattoos. She told me once you are a stud and then she covered my ears, but I heard it. I asked what it means because you don’t look like a horse in pictures. Auntie said to forget about it, it’s not for children.”

J snorts, finally amused.

“Did Y/N say that?”

“U-hum,” she nods. “Why do you have a cane? It doesn’t look like you’re limping.”

“So I can spank people that don’t behave,” J winks, entertained.

“Are you gonna spank Auntie D with it?!”
“Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!” he laughs. “Maybe, if she doesn’t behave.”

Interesting kid, he never had a dialogue with one before.

“Do you have children mister?”


“Why not?”

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, not replying. Mikah continues her tirade:

“Auntie D says you’re the Daddy type. So how come you don’t have any kids yet?”

J is getting quite immersed in this crazy spiral consisting of the little girl spitting out things he shouldn’t know about.

“You should have a baby with Auntie D, I would loveeee a sibling,” she continues yammering and J wants to cover her mouth.

He finally has to seek for an answer to the burning question:

“Why do you call her Auntie D? Her name doesn’t start with a D.”

Mikah places her index finger on her lips, getting secretive.

“It’s girl stuff, I can’t tell you if you’re not part of the girl club.”

“I can be,” The Joker grins, hoping to trick Mikah into telling him.

“You’re a boy, can’t be part of our club.”

“Ohhh, that’s too bad, little Doll. But if you tell me, I’ll take your aunt on a date.”

She gasps.

“Oh my God, for reals?!”
“A-ha,” The Clown Prince of Crime is fast to utter.

“You promise?”


She gets close to his ear, whispering:
“My auntie’s bra size is a D-cup, that’s why I call her Auntie D.”

The Joker doesn’t remember hearing anything funnier than this for the past few months. He snickers, closing his eyes and Mikah giggles, happy the bad man is laughing at something she said.

“I’m ready,” you finally step in the living room, gathering your wet hair in a messy bun. You are intrigued seeing your little niece in J’s lap, both laughing, accomplices on a secret for sure; you can tell.

Before you can express your curiosity regarding the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, J gets up, leaving the kid on the chair he sat and cracks his neck, approaching.

“Change of plans, Princess, we’re going on a date. Go put something nice on.”

“We’re going on a what?!” you crinkle your nose, watching Mikah’s mouth opening in amazement - she seems delighted.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all night,” he pushes you back towards the bedroom.

“I don’t want to go on a date with you,” you protest, displeased and baffled.

“Shut up, woman, don’t talk back to me! Be grateful you have the honor of having a date with The King of Gotham,” he snarls, shoving you in the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “And hurry up…Auntie D!!!!” and you hear him laugh as he distances himself from the door.

What the hell is going on? You debate, perplexed about tonight’s twist, digging in your closet for a dress. But you have to admit you don’t really hate the present situation. After all, you still have the biggest crush on your ex, too bad he doesn’t know.


Match Made in Hell Division is absolutely, utterly and indisputably more than happy to close two difficult cases in the same time: The Joker and Y/N aka Auntie D.

You took enough of their precious time, even if they have an eternity to their disposal.

Plus, J is the first male villain to be part of a girls’ club, another legendary skill he will forever be praised for in The Shadow World.

It all started with a bra size.



Noct looked at Prompto’s hands, his scraped knuckles and dirty fingernails, and the wrist-full of bracelets he’d used to hide his secret. “I fell for it,” Noct breathed, and softly punched the Imperial crest woven into the carpet under his knees. “I totally fell for it. And when I realized what he’d made me do I thought–” Noct tried to swallow, but nothing in his throat seemed to work, tangling up everything he’d waited so long to say. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost… everything.” Noct closed his eyes and felt the tears leave them, his head heavy under the suffocating weight of his own guilt. “I’ve got no right to ask you to forgive me—no right to ask you for anything. But if you–”

Noct didn’t get any further, his mouth muffled by Prompto’s shoulder, which was suddenly crammed against his face as Prompto hugged him like it was an act of war.

“Shut up,” Prompto gasped, holding Noct so tightly he bruised them both, and neither of them cared. “The fuck are you doing, bowing your head to me. You’re a king. You’re my king.” Prompto sniffed loudly, and buried his face in Noct’s hair. “You came to save me. From a dungeon. I feel like a fucking princess.”

It startled a laugh out of Noct; he wrapped his hands around Prompto’s waist. “I don’t think any game hero threw the Princess off a goddamn train first.”

“Eh,” Prompto said, with a shrug that threw back the curtains around Noct’s heart. “Probably some retro indie crap about exploding thematic stereotypes, you know.” He raked both hands through Noct’s hair, lifting them face-to-face, both of them haggard and tear-streaked, both of them never so glad to see anything more. “You were already forgiven, Noct. You were forgiven before you even did anything.”

Tyrants and Kings (Running Down a Dream): Princess

|| the friendship bracelet ||

{summary: “let’s wear a friendship bracelet together,” Lance says, “it’ll be fun.” the proud fuckboi continues to say as he admired the way your right wrist was trapped within the confines of the slender metal cuffs.}

you kind readers really wanted more lance ‘the fucker’ tucker imagines and i’m here to deliver as a content creator.

permanent tags: @ghostedwolf

lance tucker ONLY tags??? : @cassandras-musings

warnings: a few sexual jokes here and there, but nothing too serious. i haven’t gathered up my courage to write full on smut for him yet, lmao and it’s weird bc lance is the dirtiest asshole to have ever existed. someday i will, eventually [♥]

**don’t plagiarize/repost this story. reblogs are fine.**


Keep reading

*Perfect to Me* Newt x reader

❤ Hey, loves! So I recently received multiple requests asking for a reader who is overweight and insecure and seeing as I received quite a few, I’m going to combine them in to one story! I hope that’s okay! Also, to those of you who requested them and to everyone else as well, I hope you know you are beautiful no matter what ❤ and I sincerely hope my story helps you to embrace who you are (inside & out!)

✼ I’ve also written one similar to this before and if you’d like to read it, go here!

It was the evening of the launch party for Newt’s newly released book, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. You were currently at the home of Newt’s brother, Thesseus, getting ready in the guest room. It was an hour before the guests would be arriving and as each minute ticked by, you couldn’t help but feel more and more nervous.

Soon the home would be filled with dozens of people all dressed up and fancy but as you looked at your own self in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed by the reflection in front of you.

Everything about you seemed wrong, you thought. Running your hand over your chest, stomach and arms, you mentally took notes of all the things you wanted to change about yourself.

Knock Knock.

Keep reading

Deadly Secrets

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Eight

Master List

Pairing: Jared x Reader
Word Count: 1,291
Warnings: language
A/N: Part eight is here! Italics are flashbacks. If you’d like to be tagged let me know, in an ask (it’s the best way for me to keep track)! Hope you guys like it! Anyway, feedback for this is crucial! :)

Keep reading

Watch Out Below (30)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29

You could barely keep up with Fili as he stormed through the mountain corridors, paying little heed to your straggling steps. He was so angry, you could have sworn his irises had turned red for an instant. You were senseless when it came to direction but you knew where the prince was headed and it only heightened your worries. 

Keep reading

The Best Present

Request & Comments: a wonho and jooheon christmas tale of confessions and feels! (sorry, it was a detailed request and i didn’t want to give much away…enjoy!)

Member: Monsta X Jooheon x Y/N x (ft. Wonho)

Type: angst/fluff

I stared at Hoseok with the biggest grin I could manage. The christmas lights radiated from the tree and illuminated our faces as we sat beneath it, lost in conversation and holiday cheer. I thought if I smiled any harder, my cheeks would shatter. This is how Christmas should be. This is how life should be. Things with Wonho were so effortless, so rewarding. I felt completely safe and at ease when we spoke with one another that I never wanted our exchanges to end. 

I looked happily down at the gift he had given me. The makeup brushes I had been eying for weeks, but had never managed to talk myself into buying. He always knew what would bring a smile onto my face. 

“Are you sure they’re the right ones?” Hoseok hummed, tilting his head to catch my eyes. “We can go tomorrow and return them for the correct ones if not.”

“They’re perfect,” I nodded, clutching the package close to my chest. “The right color and all.” 

Hoseok’s smile lit up nearly as bright as the Christmas tree beside us. “Impossible. The perfect thing in this room is you. I can’t believe you got me this bracelet.” 

Hosoek’s hand instinctively touched the bracelet dangling from his wrist. I had found him a thick bracelet with his name carved into the metal. It was the epitome of masculine and chic and matched well with his personality. 

I felt my face grow hot with the embaressment of Hoseok’s compliment and looked back down to my makeup brushes. This evening was so perfect, I could hardly contain my deepest thoughts any longer. 

“Hoseok, I like you,” I breathed before I could talk myself into swallowing the words. “A lot.”

“I like you too, Y/N!” he replied cheerfully. 

I nodded, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding. “No, but I like you…as in…more than a friend.”

“Oh,” Hoseok nodded, his eyes growing large. I waited, my heart in a vice as he echoed the sentiment. “Oh.”

I furrowed my brows as his face fell, a sad smile finding his lips. His face was full of pity as his hand hovered over my knee, trying to decide if he should make contact or not. “Y/N…I’m…I’ve actually just started seeing someone.”

“Oh,” I whispered, biting at my lip and looking away. Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he? I was a fool. “That’s fine. I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you! You’re amazing and-” Hoseok said quickly, trying to regain ground on the slippery slope I had launched. 

“Hoseok,” I said, cutting him off. I shook my head and put on my best award winning smile. “It’s okay. Really, I’m not upset.”

“Really?” Hoseok winced. “You promise?”

“I pinky promise!” I nodded, jabbing at him playfully, even though my insides were on fire. If I had the ability to erase myself from existence, now would be the time to do it. 

“Yah! Y/N!” a cheerful voice appeared from around the corner. “Want me to walk you back to your apartment? It’s getting late and I know you have plans for tomorrow.” 

“Right,” I nodded, looking up to the face of my unknowing savior, Jooheon. “I’ll see you later Hoseok. I’m so glad you liked the bracelet!” 

“Of course! Enjoy the brushes!” Hoseok nodded, looking up happily at the tree as I stood. “Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas!” I echoed, half as empty. Merry Christmas. 

Jooheon was waiting for me at the door as I slipped on my shoes. He held my jacket, carefully helping me into it once I had my boots secured onto my feet. 

“Have a good Christmas eve?” he smiled, spinning me as my coat slid onto my arms. He gently clasped every button, his eyes never leaving my face. 

“Yeah, something like that,” I nodded absently, my mind still reeling from my exchange with Hoseok. How much more mortifying could that have gone? While I had imagined a relationship blossoming between us for some time, he had the same imaginings, except with a different person. A person who wasn’t me. 

I stayed wrapped in my thoughts as I stumbled down the sidewalks of Seoul, only looking up around the time Jooheon had halted in front of my apartment complex. I nearly ran into him as he paused, waiting patiently for me to emerge from my own mind. 

“This is your place, right?” he smiled, giving me a gentle nudge. 

“Oh, yeah,” I nodded. “My place.”

“Y/N,” he said softly, different from his normal expressive and cheerful tone. He bit his lip as he placed a hand at the top of my arm and gave it a light squeeze. “I uh…I may or may not have heard you and Hoseok hyung talking…”

Great. The situation just got a whole lot worse. 

I barred my teeth, shut my eyes, and took a deep breath. “Oh?”

I tried my hardest to keep the tears from falling down my cheeks, but it was nearly impossible. It was mere seconds before my face was covered in tiny streams, angling across my skin with surprising speed. 

Jooheon wasted no time in wrapping me up in his arms, burying his face deep into my hair. “Shh, it’s alright. Just give yourself time.” 

“It just hurts,” I sobbed. “It hurts so bad.”

“I know how it feels,” he sighed, leaning back to look me in the face. “You’re feelings feel invalidated…and it feels like everything you’ve built up in your head about you and this person’s relationship was meaningless, but it’s not Y/N.”

I opened my eyes, sniffling as I looked to Jooheon. He had always been such a good friend to me. I was incredibly grateful for his existence. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” I whimpered. “We could watch movies…and eat chocolates…and hide under blankets.”

“That sounds perfect,” he smiled, his eyes disappearing in his cheekbones. 

“Why are you nervous? It’s literally the same thing every year,” Jooheon chuckled, bustling around me with a tray of cookies. “Except that Changkyun put like eighteen pieces of mistletoe up.” 

“There are going to be idols here Heony,” I whispered, attempting a go at one of the cookies, but Jooheon slapped my hand away. 

“Monsta X are idols, why don’t we make you nervous?” he said, winking with a wry smile. 

“Maybe you do,” I said, trying my best alluring voice as I shot Jooheon another wink. 

“Bullshit,” Jooheon gasped. “If I made you nervous, you definitely wouldn’t be doing skin packs in your pajamas when I come over.”

“Because you always want to do the skin packs with me,” I giggled, hitting my best friend in the hip with my own. 

“My point exactly,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey! Y/N!” Hoseok’s surprised voice carried into the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in, have you been here all this time without saying hello to your favorite oppa?”

“Pfft, like you’re the favorite,” I grinned. Jooheon rolled his eyes and gave me a slight scowl. 

“You can lie however you want, but I know the truth and that’s what matters,” Hoseok laughed. “But hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

Before the question even left his mouth, Jooheon was looking at me warily. Hoseok and I hadn’t spent much time together outside of the group since last Christmas when my confession to him went about as well as a plane crash. Admittedly our hangouts had picked up since he had broken up with whoever he was seeing last year, but things were yet to return to the easy and comfortable flow they had been previously. Jooheon had been there for the past year, nursing my heartbreak and guiding me to heal. I was much closer with him now, and he was very much against the idea of my feelings growing for Hoseok again. It’s not that he wouldn’t pick up my pieces, but didn’t want to see me fall apart in the first place. 

“Sure,” I nodded after a pause that was long enough to be notable. Jooheon let out an exasperated sigh and nearly stomped his foot as I exited the kitchen. I shot him a look over my shoulder as I followed Hoseok, only to receive a very perturbed Jooheon sticking his tongue out at me in response. 

“What’s up, oppa?” I asked, tilting my head as he stopped in front of the Christmas tree, eerily close to where we had sat last year. 

“Last year…do you remember what happened here?” he asked slowly, eying me carefully. 

So he had chosen this spot on purpose. 

“Of course I do,” I chuckled nervously. It was one of the most horrifying moments of my young adult life. 

“Then you’ll also remember…that I had terrible timing,” Hoseok sighed, looking away from me. “I had just started seeing someone…and Jooheon had just told me about how he felt and-”

“Wait,” I interrupted, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Rewind.”

“I had just started seeing someone?”

“Fast forward.”

“Jooheon had told me about how he felt?”

“Now this can go one of two ways,” I said cautiously. “He told you how he felt about you or…”

“You,” Hoseok chuckled. “I would hope he didn’t confess to me. No, he had told me how he felt about you. I couldn’t rightfully date a girl that my friend was in love with.” 

I blinked, uncomfortable with the new information provided to me. I looked over to the kitchen to see Jooheon staring at us, his eyes even smaller than usual as he squinted with his poor eyesight. I knew he couldn’t hear us, but was probably trying his hardest to become a lip reader. 

“You guys have been hanging out a lot since then. I assumed you talked through how he felt?” Hoseok said slowly. “That’s why…why I wanted to talk to you today. About how I feel.”

No, Jooheon and I had discussed nothing, but the mention of it felt like a slap to the face. When Jooheon had walked me home that night, he said he knew the heartbreak of unreciprocated love. He knew it because of me. 

“I think I like you, Y/N,” Hoseok said hopefully. “And I think I finally have my timing right.”

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. I shook it even harder as I realized I had verbalized the statement and looked up at Hoseok, trying to shake myself out of my stupor. “I mean, I don’t think it’s quite the right time now either.”

“Oh…” Hoseok sighed, looking down. 

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I said quietly, giving Hoseok the same sad smile he had once given me. “But I think I’m in love with someone else.”

“Have you told him?” Hoseok asked. “Is there anything I can try to do to convince you otherwise?”

“Afraid not,” I hummed. “But I’m more than willing to continue our weird friendship of missed opportunities and awkwardness.”

“I’ll take it,” Hoseok nodded. “Maybe someday I’ll get this whole timing thing right…but you should probably go tell him. I think he’s waited long enough…don’t you?”

My head snapped up as Hoseok set me with a knowing look. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his handsome lips as he gave a casual nod toward Jooheon. “Go.”

I nodded, a grin spreading onto my lips as well. I quickly moved back toward the kitchen, a new pep in my step that only could be described as sudden realization. 

“What did he say?” Jooheon groaned. “You look too happy.”

I smiled, refusing to speak as I approached him. I took a deep breath, counting mentally to build myself up for what I was about to do. I stood on my tip toes, now directly in front of Jooheon, and placed my lips softly against his. Jooheon’s body froze, becoming rigid beneath my touch as my hands found his shoulders. After a few moments, he melted beneath my fingers, allowing himself to wrap a hesitant arm around my waist and deepen the kiss, only breaking it when the confusion got to be too much. 

“Sorry it took so long,” I whispered, setting my forehead against his chest. He placed an absent minded kiss in my hair and giggled. 

“Why now?” Jooheon said quietly, kissing my hair again. 

“Well…” I sighed, leaning back to look him in the face. “I forgot to get you a gift last year…so I figured the one this year should be something really special.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Best Christmas present ever.” 

Originally posted by sukiiieee