no cell phones and no watches because time would mean nothing to us

off limits | 02 (m)

pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings: smut, dirty talk, dom! Jin 
words: 7,520
summary: you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 |

a/n: if you squint, you can see the beginnings of a plot haha!

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Tacos and Tequila - Ch.1

Said I wasn’t gonna post this till I’d written it all but hey I’m a big lying liar. This is a College AU inspired by a ridiculous prompt from @bugheadjonesiii which happens to be the title of this fic. So yeah, there’s that.

Betty drives almost four hours in a snowstorm to visit her best friend, Archie Andrews, at college, only to arrive and find out that Archie isn’t home, won’t be returning, and hadn’t even told his roommate she was coming. Snowed in and less than happy about it, Betty might come to learn that 48 hours trapped with Jughead Jones won’t be that bad after all.

Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Read on AO3


Betty is out of breath by the time she makes it to the top of the staircase, dragging her uncooperative suitcase behind her – it had gotten stuck on every obstacle possible, flipping over more than once and nipping at the backs of her heels the rest of the time. She’d stood outside the student apartment building for a good ten minutes before someone had come by to let her in, her persistent pressing of Archie’s buzzer going entirely unanswered.

“Oh, hey, hold the door please!” she’d yelled, hurrying to catch it before it swung shut on her once again. She’d stepped away in the hopes of reaching Archie on his cell phone instead, but had once again had no luck. The disinterested student barely stopped to slide his hand across the glass, pinning it open for a fraction of a second longer, Betty managing to catch the heavy weight with the tips of her frostbitten fingers. “Thanks,” she had huffed under her breath, sarcasm laced heavily in her tone.

To add to her plight the elevator had had a bright white sign slapped across it that read ‘out of order’, forcing her to take the stairs. Betty wasn’t unfit by any means, but right now she was tired, drained even, and wanted nothing more than to get inside her best friend’s room and just collapse on the nearest soft surface.

It wasn’t exactly how she’d wanted to arrive either. Bags beneath her eyes, drenched from standing in the flurry of snow that had started to come down mid-drive. The same snow that had already set her nerves on edge as she felt the road slicken beneath her tires. She pauses, trying to catch her breath and swipe some of the hair stuck to her damp skin away, before continuing down the hallway in search of Archie’s room, hoping the flush in her cheeks would fade by the time she found it.

The numbers 403 flash before her eyes and she knocks, fingers of her free hand fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater while she waits.

The door swings open and the first thing Betty thinks is naked.

Her eyes widen comically as she is met with an expanse of skin, wet and glistening slightly under the fluorescent lighting above. She rakes her gaze over the hard planes of the stranger’s chest before she can stop herself, noting the subtle ridges of abs – not nearly as defined as the ones she was used to catching glimpses of out of her bedroom window, but definitely still there – and a smattering of dark hair trailing down below a soft, white towel…

Her head snaps up, all efforts to rid her cheeks of their previous flush now in vein as she swallows nervously. The stranger is staring back at her, face unnervingly guarded. Betty clears her throat, holding her chin a fraction higher in an attempt to seem more put together than she is feeling. The stranger runs a hand through his wet hair, pushing back the long, ebony curls from in front of steady blue eyes. He has really long eyelashes, Betty thinks distractedly, before scrambling to pull her mind back from the diversion it had decided to take.

“Um, hi. I’m looking for Archie Andrews? I’m…”

“Betty Cooper.” Betty’s head bounces back in surprise at the sound of her name on his lips, snapping her mouth closed instantly. The corner of his own mouth tilts upwards minutely into an upper-handed smirk. “The blonde from the pictures,” he says by way of explanation, gesturing vaguely behind him.

Betty can’t stop the warmth that spreads throughout her chest at this statement; the knowledge that Archie had pictures up of her in his college room, had told people her name, settles comfortably in her stomach. The vague recollection of a name in a phone call pokes around the edges of her memory.

“And you’re… Jughead?” she asks warily, the nickname feeling foreign on her tongue.

“The one and only,” Jughead replies. There is a beat of silence as neither make a move to continue the conversation.

“Forgive my asking, but what exactly are you doing here?” Jughead finally questions, tilting his head inquisitively. The warmth in Betty’s chest turns to ice. His eyes feel intrusive as they stare back at her, making her want to curl in on herself until she becomes invisible.

“I… Archie didn’t say anything?” she mumbles, willing the prickle in the corner of her eyes not to turn to tears. Jughead shakes his head slightly. Betty nods, fingernails slipping from the hem of her sweater to the soft skin of her palm, poised just above the flesh. He’s just busy, it’s first semester after all, a reassuring voice tries to tell her. “I’m visiting for the weekend,” she tells Jughead, plastering an overly bright smile on her face. Jughead’s expression falters at her words.

“Archie isn’t here,” he says slowly, eyes taking on a certain wariness as he watches a range of emotions flit across Betty’s features. “He took off with some girl a few days ago and hasn’t come back yet.”

Some girl. There was always some girl, Betty thinks dejectedly, but that girl was never her. Embarrassment strikes white hot down her spine, glazing her eyes over as her nails pierce the skin of her palms. “Oh,” she whispers, unable to make her voice come out any louder.

“Do you want to hit me?” The unusual question snaps Betty out of her sudden spiral. Her brow furrows delicately and it’s her turn to regard him warily.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes lower pointedly to her clenched fists. She follows his gaze, immediately flexing her fingers. “Because, hey, I’d understand.” Betty shuts her eyes briefly, exhaling slowly out of her nose before looking back at the boy in the doorway.

“No, I don’t want to hit you,” she says in a more even tone, hints of amusement creeping in around the edges. He smiles at that, and Betty can’t help but note that the simple action softens his whole demeanour. A lump catches in her throat. “I just… I drove three and a half hours to see my best friend, who I haven’t seen in months, and he isn’t even here. And it’s snowing, and I nearly crashed on the way over here because some drivers are assholes, and students are assholes, and so are professors for that matter; did you know that one of mine sprung a surprise paper on us the other day and I had to complete it early before leaving to come here? Only to find out, as I’ve said before, Archie isn’t here and didn’t tell his roommate I was even coming,” she exhales, feeling her body lighten with every word that passes her lips, sagging against the handle of her suitcase.

Jughead’s eyes have crinkled around the corners as he regards her with mild enjoyment, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. He looks as if he’s about to say something before changing his mind and pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

“What?” Betty asks with a sigh, sensing his hesitation. She doesn’t even care that she’s just unloaded her every frustration on this unsuspecting man, clad only in his towel, in the doorway of his college residence.

“You blink when you say the word ‘asshole’,” he tells her, that devilish smirk slipping back onto his face. Betty looks at him indignantly.

“No, I don’t,” she retorts before even figuring out why she feels she should be offended by his accusation. “I’m perfectly capable of saying ‘asshole’ without blinking.”

“You blinked again.” She purses her lips together because damn it, he’s right. She did blink. She supposes it was many years of Alice Cooper telling her that ladies didn’t use such foul language. She scoffed internally – she’s certainly heard her mother using more than a few choice words during the less than quiet arguments she had with Betty’s father, Hal.

There’s that silence again as both of them continue to stare, neither moving as Betty rocks back on her heels. Eventually, she sighs, ready to admit defeat.

“Well, I better be going; long drive back,” she murmurs as she grips the handle of her suitcase more firmly and turns to head back towards the stairs. Jughead stares at her retreating figure before his manners suddenly kick in.

“Oh, man. Shit–  Betty! Wait, you can’t drive all the way back now,” Jughead calls after her, starting to step out into the hallway, one hand clutching at the knot in his towel. She turns to face him, teeth chewing on the plush skin of her lower lip. He flushes, looking up and down the corridor before stepping out towards her.

“I don’t mean to be an asshole,” he begins, pointedly exaggerating the curse while he looks at her unblinkingly, garnering a laugh. “But you look exhausted, and the weather is hell. You shouldn’t be out driving. Just… come inside for a while, okay?” he asks, ducking his head to meet her eyes better. The stray fly-aways framing her face are dampened with melting snowflakes. Betty looks up at him from beneath her lashes, debating his request. In all actuality there’s no real debate. She is exhausted and the thought of rolling her tires over the absolute death trap once called roads outside sets her teeth on edge. She sighs again, nodding quickly before following him back towards the room.

(Peter Parker x Reader): Criminal

Summary: You were on Team Cap for the fight in Germany, but it turns out you had a connection to a certain spiderling on the other side. With you in prison and then hiding Peter doesn’t know what to do.

A/N: Gets a bit angsty so be prepared. Still debating if I’ll continue this.

 “Wanda, please,” You begged, pleading with the other girl as you ran up to where she was laying in Vision’s arms, ‘We need to go - now.” You were losing, badly, Wanda had collapsed, and you’d lost sight of your other teammates.

“No. We stay with the team. We will lose this battle.” Wanda replied as you helped her stand up as Vision slowly moved away.

“But-” You start, trying to protest. You’d already found an easy escape route to take.

“Steve got away.” Wanda says, cutting you off, “We completed the mission. That’s how we do things around here. We’re a team so we stick together.” 

Before you could argue back you were surrounded by guards. It was too late for hiding now.

“Wanda, what should I do?” You asked, panicked as you looked around nervously. You’d never seen someone point a gun at someone else before, let alone at you.

“We surrender.” She replied, pulling herself to her feet shakily, placing her hands on her head.

You glanced around again, scanning the rest of the airport, hoping for someone else from your team to help you out. You looked around only to see all of the others already in handcuffs being shoved into a heavily armed truck.

You made eye contact with Clint for a fleeting moment. You could tell that this man, the man who had asked you to come fight this war could see the fear in your eyes and all you could see in his own eyes was regret.

You reluctantly placed your hands on your head and allowed them to restrain you before throwing you into the truck with the others, each of you in your own personal cage.

Despite your insistence that you would come willingly you were forced onto a cot and strapped down. At times you could hear the others so you knew that they were in cells close by. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

“-Tony Stark.” You hear Clint say loudly, and judging by the bitterness in his tone the man himself was actually here, “You better watch your back on this guy. There’s a chance he’s gonna break it.” You heard as you forced yourself out of the daze you’d been in. 

“How dare you-”

“Are you kidding me, Tony? They’re kids and you’re treating them like animals.” Clint replies angrily, his paternal instincts coming out as he argues about the two teen girls.

“With no suit, wings or arrows, you’re nothing.” Tony says, “Those girls are fully armed and dangerous.”

“Mr. Stark?” You called out straining to lift your head off the cot with your arms still chained down, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who was responsible for you being here, “Huge honor by the way, is there any chance of you letting us go? Because I have a massive Physics test on Wednesday and my teacher is going to kill me if I don’t show up.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” He taunts as you see him saunter over.

“Oh come on, I know you’re reading my file on that watch of yours.” You reply, rolling your eyes, “(Y/N) (L/N),  Midtown School of Science and Technology, Sophomore, honor roll, super speed. It’s all there.”

“Along with a series of behavior reports from your foster parents,” Tony Stark adds.

“See? I may be chained down but I’m not an idiot.” You reply with a slight smirk, “If you’re not going to let us go, can you tell Parker that I’m going to miss the robotics competition?”

“Parker-how do you know about him?” He asks quickly, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and surprise causing you to grin, glad that you have his attention.

“Don’t worry, I just snuck a peek under the mask during the fight, his voice sounded familiar.” You explain, “We’re friends, we go to school together -I’d be surprised if he didn’t figure out who I am too- but that’s not the point, the point is that I’m on the drive team for robotics so they need to find somebody to replace me.” You told him, thinking of the scrappy geek of a friend that with no doubt was back at school already and hopefully wondering where you were.

 But Tony Stark was already walking away and you let your head fall back onto the cot, “Well, fuck you,” You muttered, realizing that no one would even know where you were.

“She’s where?!” Peter practically yelled into his phone, confused and angry, “Doesn’t she have to get a trial or something?”

“They’re considering them weapons of mass destruction. Those don’t get trials.” Tony’s detached voice told him.

“But she’s just a kid!” Peter protested.

“And so are you, but you two have abilities, those abilities make you different and hold you to a higher level of responsibility, you accepted that responsibility and so has (Y/N), now she has to face those consequences.” Tony explained.

“But-” Peter started to say before getting cut off.

“This wasn’t a game Peter, this was an all out war, and it makes her a criminal, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about it.” Tony said before hanging up, leaving Peter dumbfounded, confused, and just generally unsure of what to do. How could he help her? It so painful to think of (Y/N) being held in some sort of insane prison when there were actual criminals being allowed to run free. Not to mention the fact that Peter had been developing a bit of a crush on you, he felt like he had to save her.

You were restless, all of the pent up energy you had meant that you couldn’t sleep or even think clearly. You didn’t realize you were being broken out until the cuffs around your wrists and legs that you’d grown so accustomed to were suddenly opened.

Before you could mentally respond your body was sitting up right, “Oh thank god,” I cried as you launched yourself out of the door to your cell and into the open where you wrapped your arms around Steve, enveloping him in a tight hug before running to Wanda’s side, helping her out of her own cell and the straightjacket they’d put her in.

Minutes later you were sitting in the Quinjet with the rest of the team, Wanda was sitting quietly next to you (she still hadn’t said anything to anyone so you were just waiting it out), Clint was standing a ways away talking on a burner phone to his wife and kids, Scott was sleeping on a row of seats, and Sam was up front with Steve and Bucky.

“What do you mean they broke out? What’s going to happen to her? Is she going to be safe?” Peter asked, each question rapidly succeeding the other as he stood with Tony outside of Rhodey’s rehabilitation center.

“We’re not sure where they are or how exactly they got out, but she’s with Cap so she’s safe. Steve mentioned her specifically in his letter with specific hopes that you would know that she was okay.” Tony told the young man.

“What should I do? What can I do?” Peter asked, looking to his mentor for advice.

Tony sighed, unsure of what to say, “For now? Replace her on the robotics team, I’ll see if I can’t find a way for her to get back.”

You were wandering T’Challa’s mansion (it was the only place you were allowed to go freely since you and the rest of the team were still wanted criminals and with your powers you couldn’t handle sitting still for more than an hour) when you came across Steve.

“Captain Rogers,” You greeted him, “I really appreciate the whole breaking me out of maximum security prison thing, but when do I get to go home?” You asked. You obviously didn’t want to go back to The Raft, but you were feeling really cooped up and just wanted to get back to some semblance of your old life.

“(Y/N)…You can’t, they’re looking for you, for all of us. If you go back they’ll find you and throw you back in prison.” Steve told you.

“I have a life, school, friends back in Queens. What will they think if I just disappear like this?” You asked, surely people were still confused as to where you had disappeared to.

“We got some intel on that, when you were arrested they told your foster parents and school you were arrested on drug charges.” Steve told you, giving you that look of pity that people who felt bad about your situation always gave you.

“So no one cares that I’m gone.” You replied with sigh, you’d only been at this last home a few months, of course they wouldn’t care to look into what happened to you, you were just another troubled kid to them.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), with your record it seems like everyone accepted it would happen. I know it’s not fair. Considering the fact that you know that spiderman kid, there’s no way you can go back to your old life and pretend none of this happened.” He said before pulling you into an awkward hug before walking away.

You knew Steve was right, you’re not stupid. But it didn’t change the fact that you were standing in Wacanda with no hope of freedom. Would you ever see Peter again?

Moon, Stars, and Sun

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Word Count: 1,577

Request: Yes.  -Leave requests here

Warnings: none my sensitive loves

Summary: Anon asked:  can you do a reid x reader where the reader has a son from when she was raped and her and spence have been dating a while and the biological father is dead and she asks spencer what to tell her son when he starts asking about who his dad is and spencer sees it as the perfect time to propose since he was planning on it anyway and the next day, emily sees the ring and freaks out with joy and tells garcia and jj and the rest of the team?

Originally posted by bau-obsessed

You curled your knees up to your chest, hugging yourself tight.  You had just gotten off the phone with Hotch, and he broke the news that Daniel Gunther, the father of your child, was dead.  He died that evening in his prison cell, and although you were relieved that your rapist was gone for good, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for Charlie, your son.  He was the moon, stars, and sun in your eyes and you didn’t know what you were ever going to tell him when he asked who his father was.  

Although he wasn’t old enough to understand much about it yet, you knew he would eventually ask who his real father was, since you met Spencer well after he was born.  He was bound to know that he wasn’t his real dad.

Sighing, you turned the TV on in Spencer’s bedroom.  You had moved there with Charlie a few months back since you’ve been dating for a while.  To your relief, both of the men in your life loved each other immensely, and that just gave you a truly warm feeling in your heart anytime you thought about either of them.  Spencer may not be his dad, but he was the perfect father, and that is all you could ask for.

You uncurled your legs and stretched them out in front of you on the bed, focusing your attention back to the TV.

“He’s finally asleep,” you heard a soft voice say from the door.  You looked over to see Spencer entering the room and your heart skipped a beat, the love you had for the man evident every time you saw him.  “That kid has got so much energy.”

“I know.  It’s a miracle when you get him to bed any earlier than midnight,” you said.  Your voice was softer than it usually was, and Spencer could tell.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on the bed next to you.

You shook your head and turned off the TV.  “I just got a call from Hotch.  Daniel’s dead.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly at the news.  “When?”

“This evening.  They found him dead in his cell.  The guards think it was a suicide,” you replied, looking down at your hands folded in your lap.

“Wow,” was all he said.  After a few moments of silence, he grabbed your hands and you looked up at him.  “What’s the problem?” he asked gently.

“Charlie.  His dad is dead.  What do I tell him?” you asked.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him anything right now.”

“But he’ll start asking questions, Spence.  He knows you aren’t his actual dad and he’ll want to know about him.  I’ve tried to come up with a million lies to tell him about his dad, and I know that when the time comes, I won’t have the strength to lie to him,” you said.  You surprisingly weren’t crying.  Your voice was soft but rushed.  He knew you were trying to be strong for your son.  That you would do anything for him.  And right now, in that moment, he knew he would do the same.  Charlie was moon, sun, and stars in his eyes, too, and looking at you in that moment, with your hair unwashed and wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties, he knew you and Charlie were going to be a part of him for the rest of his life.  

“Stay here for just a second,” he said to you, getting up and walking out the door.  You had no clue what he was doing, but you watched him walk out the door and waited until he returned moments later, with a hand behind his back.  You narrowed your eyes at him as he sat in front of you on the bed, cross legged, his crazy mismatched socks touching your own bare feet.

“I get that you’re scared about Charlie, but the truth is, he’s a really strong kid.  There are plenty of things you can tell him about who his father was and what he did for a living, really the possibilities are endless.  But why don’t we wait until he is old enough to truly understand?  When he asks who his father is, just say it’s me.  Because as of right now, it is, isn’t it?  I mean you both live with me, and I love you both and I see us as a family, don’t you see us as a family?”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face as you nodded vigorously at him.  You did see the three of you as a family.

“And I think the best way to secure that picture,” he said, bringing forward his hidden hand.  He was holding a small red velvet box.  “Is to ask you this question.”  His voice was shaking, as was his hands as it opened the box to reveal the radiant cut diamond ring.  You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding your shy smile.  “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.  Make me the luckiest and happiest man on earth by allowing me to be in you and your son’s lives for the rest of mine.  Will you marry me?”  Tears began to fall from his eyes, too.  You looked at the ring, small and delicate, but bright and beautiful.  All you could manage was more nodding and a choked out yes.

The smile on Spencer’s face was priceless.  In a hurry, he took the ring out of its box and put it on your finger, holding onto your shaking hands with his.

“I love you so much, Spence,” you said through the happiest tears you’ve ever cried.

“I love you, too, y/n,” he replies in a croaky voice.  He pulled you into his arms, enveloping your body in his.  And that night, without the words, Spencer showed you just how much he loved you.

“Briefing in five,” JJ said, passing by your desk that Monday.  You and Spencer kept quiet over the weekend, keeping the news of your engagement to yourselves and Charlie.  Going into the bullpen that day, you managed to keep your left hand occupied as not to notify anyone of your news just yet.

“Hey, y/n.  I heard about Daniel,” Prentiss said, coming up to your desk.

“Yeah,” is all you said.  I mean, what could you say.  Without thinking, you ran your hand through your hair, flashing your ring to a gaping Emily.

“Um, what is that?” she asked.  You quickly hid your hand behind your head.

“What is what?” you asked nervously, pretending to scratch.  For a profiler, you were bad at lying.  Emily grabbed your hand and pulled it to her, eyes widening at the diamond upon your finger.

“Oh.  My.  God!” she yelled just as Garcia walked by.

“What are you screaming about that I am not included in?” she asked.  Emily shoved your hand out to let Garcia get a good look at it.  “Oh my god!” she said, grabbing your hand too.

“Guys, please,” you said grinning.  “We need to get ready for the briefing.”

“When did this happen?” Emily asked with a smile.

“Friday night.  He said he was going to do it later this month but he just couldn’t help it I guess,” you told them, grinning even bigger.  

“Aww.  My heart is so happy for you two,” Garcia said.  Her eyes were still on your ring, probably calculating how much money it costed.

“Am I interrupting something little ladies?” Morgan said as he walked up to the group.  Penelope grabbed your hand and stuck it out to him.

“Reid proposed Friday.  You’re boy didn’t even tell you, did he?” she asked him with a smirk.

“Guys, we need to- oh my god,” JJ said.  “Did Spence propose?”

“Well, I guess the cat is just totally out of the bag,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” Everyone turned their heads to Spencer, sitting at his desk with a fresh cup of coffee, oblivious.

Gingerly, you hold up your hand to flash the ring to him.  He pressed his lips together in obvious embarrassment.  You shot him a look of apology as you knew he wanted to be the one to tell everyone.

“How did you propose to your girl without telling me?” Morgan asked, but he was still smiling.

“Guys,” you all heard Hotch from the briefing room.  With that one word, everyone straightened up and made their way to the room where him and Rossi were waiting.

“JJ, mind telling me why all of you are late?” Hotch asked, handing out the files for her in frustration.

“Pretty boy asked y/n to marry him,” Morgan answered for her.  That made Hotch look over at you and Spencer in surprise.

You shrugged and held up your hand once again to show David and Hotch the diamond.

“Well, I say that as soon as this investigation is closed, we celebrate with a few drinks and dinner,” Emily said taking a seat.

“Congrats,” is all Hotch said to you two, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I’m buying,” Rossi added before turning to the board to listen to JJ for the briefing.  You looked over at Spencer with a wide smile, and he smiled back at you, grabbing your hand across the table to hold.

You were absolutely the happiest woman on earth.

Name Calling

For @leiascully xf writing challenge prompt: lists. It’s not a list, but it’s about a list. I hope that counts? I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, so…

Mulder’s chaos. That’s the only way to describe his filing system. Or lack thereof.

Scully wouldn’t have this problem if Mulder were here, or if he were at least answering his phone. The cell is probably either dead or he’s lost it again. He really needs a system, Scully thinks as she tries to understand the connection between haunted beach resorts and possessed guinea pigs. According to Mulder, there seems to be one.

Twenty minutes ago Skinner called their office to let them, or rather Scully, know that he needs the report on their latest case. Immediately. Utmost importance. And more words Scully didn’t hear, already frantically going through Mulder’s desk. She should not have let him write that report. Had she done it herself, she could already be on her way to Skinner’s office. But no. The one time she insists on him doing the paperwork, she regrets it.

So here she sits, among files, reports, several bills, a Playboy magazine from 94 and even more National Geographics. The report, however, is not here. Skinner will call again in five minutes, tops. Since Mulder is not here, she will get yelled at all by herself. Just what she needs today.

Lost in thought, Scully unfolds a piece of paper. At first she thinks it’s merely a scribbled note, nothing important. But it’s a list, a long one. She quickly scans the many names neatly categorized into girls and boys. Samantha and Melissa are at the top and they’re both crossed out. Too much history, she deciphers the scrawled words next to them. Scully reads through all of them; from Abigail and Adam to Xenia and Zachary. Some have comments right next to the entry; Mulder has terrible hand writing and some of it is no longer readable. Scully doesn’t notice her tears until one of them falls down right down at the end. Mulder?, it reads there in black ink, or would she prefer Scully? The names blur together, eventually.

Baby names.

Mulder made a list of baby names. For their child.

“Hey Scully, what’s up with Skinner? He just- Scully?” Mulder barges in, holding two large coffee cups and stops when he sees her slumped over the chaos on his desk.

Scully can’t stop the sob that escapes her and Mulder is by her side in two long strides. He puts the cups down on the desk and crouches in front of her. He gently tips the chair so that she’s facing him. His hands, warm and large, rest on her knees as his eyes finds hers.

“Scully, what happened? Is it because of Skinner?” She shakes her head, her tongue too thick, her throat too tight to talk. Instead she hands him the list.

“Oh.” His voice is as gentle as his hands as he takes the proffered piece of paper. He looks at it for a moment, the ghost of a smile passing over his face.

“I forgot about this.” Mulder’s index finger gently touches one of the names and suddenly nothing matters as much as this to Scully. She needs to know.

“What’s your favorite?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Uhm, I had several favorites depending on, well…” He refuses to look at her, shy now, but she knows exactly what he was thinking about.



“No, I mean… their name, it would have been Mulder.” His eyes light up in surprise for a moment, soften, and he smiles up at her. Scully used to think, when there was still possibility to dream, that their baby would smile exactly like that. Same eyes, same beautiful mouth. The picture shatters in front of her once again, as it always will, but Mulder’s voice, warm and gentle, keeps her here, keeps her sane. It does now as it did then months ago, when their dream, her baby, wasn’t to be.

“Jake for a boy. Jake Mulder. I felt that… it felt like a good name, you know? Or William.” Scully raises her eyebrows and he nods, chuckles.

“I know, I know. Plenty of Williams in our families already.” Mulder stares at the list again, at their lost possibilities. There would be no Jake Mulder. No William Mulder either.

“And for a girl?” The question hurts as she presses it through her constricted throat. She needs to know, though. They never talked about it. Let’s move on, she’d told him the morning after breaking down in his arms. Back then it had seemed like it had been her loss; only hers.

“I thought maybe… Melinda. It’s not Melissa, but it’s close and I thought-” Scully’s painful sob tears through his words and makes him pause. The list slips from his hand as he opens his arms and she falls into them, easily.

Mulder holds her as tightly as possible and she lets him. She let him before when the IVF didn’t work. This, she realizes now, way too late, is their pain. It’s not just hers; he, too, lost something. The phone rings insistently, startling them both, returning them to the here and now.

Scully looks at Mulder and smiles thankfully as he wipes her tears away. His finger traces her lips and she kisses it, softly, like a butterfly’s flap.

With a sigh, and protesting knees, Mulder gets up to pick up the phone. Scully can hear Skinner’s angry booming voice.

“I’m just gonna… go and give Skinner that report before he completely flips out,” his grin is lopsided, “all right?” Scully merely nods and watches as Mulder opens a drawer and after a moment holds the right file in his hands. Mulder’s chaos, she thinks with a sigh. She can no longer feel angry about it.

“Mulder?” He’s already at the door and turns to face her, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“I’d like to keep this list. If it’s all right with you.”

“It’s your list, Scully. It’ll always be your list.”

“I’m dead dear, not stupid.”

Pairing: James March x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1425

Your shift working at the concierge desk was almost over. The man checking in was good looking and not to mention, very kind to you as well. Yes, you’re married to James, but it didn’t hurt to look, just as long as you kept it at that.

“And what’s your name, beautiful?” The man asked with a sweet smile while rubbing his chin.

You smiled back. But hey, you weren’t flirting, the man was just asking a simple question. There’s nothing wrong with that. “Y/N.” You turned around to hand him a key to his room, then continued, “Yours?”

“Matthew.” He replied, taking his key gently from your hand.

Suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you saw a figure from upstairs by the railing, which caused you to look. To your surprise, it was your husband, James, just standing there wearing his striped suit and hat, leaning on his cane, staring at you. 

You didn’t want him to get to you, so you quickly looked away and looked back at Matthew. “Well Matthew, it was very nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay. Give us a ring if there’s anything that you need.”

“Of course. Well, don’t work too hard gorgeous.” Matthew grabbed his small suitcase from the floor, then made his way to the elevator.

You looked back to where James stood, only to see that his figure was gone. So you just rolled your eyes because you knew exactly what you were in for later. James always was the jealous type. You were used to it by now, so instead of stressing about it, you just went back to organizing your area and waited for Iris to arrive for her shift.

It wasn’t long until she arrived.

Iris arrived through the front door, you could hear the LA traffic before the door closed behind her. She looked very refreshed.

“Somebody looks like she’s in a good mood. Where did you go?” You asked curiously.

“Ramona & I just had a nice meal.” Iris replied, putting her hands on her belly as she made her way behind the concierge desk to take your place. You knew exactly what she meant by meal as in human blood.

To your disgust, you responded with sticking your tongue out and pointing a finger to it which made Iris giggle a little.

“Hey doll.” Out of the blue comes Liz. Standing across from the desk, she raises a brow and rests a hand on his, quickly tapping her fingernails on it one by one. “I have a message for you.” She emphasizes the word ‘you’ pretty well.

“What’s up, Liz?” You asked while twirling your fingers through your hair, looking confused.

“James said to meet you for dinner in 20 minutes. The usual room.”

“Great.” You said sarcastically. There’s nothing you’re dreading more than seeing James right now. You love your husband, you really do, but you just weren’t in the mood today for his nonsense. Dragging your feet, you grabbed your cell phone and keys, then slowly made your way to the elevator towards your bedroom.

The first thing you did upon entering your room was throw your phone and keys on the bed. You sighed, then went inside your closet, running your fingers through your clothes until you found an outfit to wear for tonight’s awkward dinner. Finally, you decided to throw on black leggings, a loose black top, a black blazer and black Christian Louboutin heels. You kept your hair down in loose curls and quickly touched up your makeup. Even though this dinner is the last thing you wanted to do today, you cared enough to at least look decent for James.

You hummed a tune to your favorite song while walking down the dim, silent halls until you reached the designated room. 1920′s Jazz music from the record player quietly leaked through the door. You knocked before opening the unlocked door to somewhat announce your arrival. 

“And who might this be?” James asked, staying seated in his chair.

“It’s me.” You announced once you were in his view.

“Ah yes.” The way James said it sounded rather irritable.

Once you sat down in your seat across from James, that’s when Miss Evers comes to fill his glass. He was basically waiting for you arrive before starting on drinking, no matter how long he had to wait. While Miss Evers was pouring James’ glass, he was looking directly at you with a stern look on his face, moving his hand left and right for her to keep pouring, then quickly put his hand up for her to stop and leave him be.

He didn’t scare you though, so you just sat there, staring back at him with a straight look on your face. 

For the first few minutes, you both just sat there in silence. Eventually, you got annoyed with the continuous stares without a word coming out of James’ mouth. You took a sip of your wine and held the glass in your hand. “Okay seriously James. Enough. What?”

James took in a deep breath before finally getting his word out to respond, “I imagine you are aware as to why I sent Liz to notify you about our small arrangement?” 

“Yeah yeah yeah. And?” Finally, Miss Evers served your dinner which you were pretty excited about because you were starving, so you set the napkin cloth on your lap and started on your meal.

James, on the other hand, didn’t touch his food. I mean, he’s a ghost anyways so it doesn’t even matter. “You should feel lucky I spared that man’s life since business has been slow this past month.”

“Spared his life? What are you…What do you mean? He wasn’t even doing anything. He was just being friendly.” You lied. Matthew was flirting a little, but you didn’t want the truth to come out of your mouth, so you just continued to deny James’ assumption.

“I’m dead dear, not stupid.” James glared at you, then took another sip of his bourbon filled glass.

Originally posted by bitemytonguedarling

You’re not going to lie though, what James just said to you was by far the best comeback he’s ever had. A huge part of you wanted to burst out laughing, but you didn’t want to give in just yet, so you kept your little poker face on for now. 

Since a word didn’t come out of your mouth, James continued, “May I remind you that you are mine. Do not let this happen again.”

“Okay, yeah. Fine. Whatever.” You didn’t agree with James, but you did so anyways or else this will go on forever. James will always be the overprotective and jealous husband. It was the Scorpio in him.

James felt some sort of relief, so he finally started on his dinner. “Now. If this shall happen again, see to it that I will torture a man and tie you to a chair to watch.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself.” If James just kept his mouth shut after you surrendered, everything would be just peachy. But he just HAD to add on. So instead of sitting there any longer, you got out of your seat, darting towards the door, with your arms straight down, with both hands in a fist.

“That’s enough!” James immediately followed after you, grabbing at your left wrist to face your body towards him, then grabbed at your shoulders and pushed you against a wall. Miss Evers was coming in through the back with a cart of dessert, but once she saw James in a rage, she hurriedly walked back out. 

James put both of his hands on the wall, leveled with your ears, then punched the wall once with his right fist. “I’ve grown tired of your attitude, Y/N! I provide for you anything you need and more! And I ask for nothing but your love and undying loyalty!”

“Okay, James. I get it.” You whispered, sounding understanding. It surprised James a little because for almost this entire dinner, you stuck with nothing but a stubborn attitude. To a normal girlfriend, having their boyfriend freak out like that would’ve scared them. But you weren’t scared of James. Not one bit. But you could see it in his eyes that you hurt him. You may not be as jealous as he is, which will take more time to get used to, but that’s okay because you have all the time in the world to get used to it. And someday, you’ll even have all of eternity to.


- I’m still debating whether or not I want to write a part two with some nsfw (; I’ll let my readers decide!

The Joker x Reader - “The Bucket List”

Two months after breaking up with The Joker, you found out the bad news. You didn’t have a choice but to ask for his help and J didn’t even show up for the meeting. Of course he didn’t care, but now that he heard why you wanted to see him so badly, it might be too late for any amendments.

Part 2:

“I’m out of here…” you announce, lifting your bag and taking a few steps towards the door. The Joker doesn’t reply, he just watches you in silence, leaning on the back wall of the master bedroom.

“That’s all you want?” he speaks up in a bitter tone when you are almost out of the quarters.

“Yes, that’s all…” you whisper and don’t turn around, continuing your walk. After a few moments, J wants to add something but gives up when he hears the elevator. He knows you’re already gone.


Things went from worse to worst until both couldn’t take it anymore. You were aware he’d never leave the penthouse so you decided to break it off sooner rather than later. You were actually surprised he didn’t try to stop you when you told him about your decision: after all, he doesn’t like people to leave until he says so. You were determined to continue with the plan even he would have attempt to disagree. But he didn’t. Probably happy to get rid of you in such a timely manner. The Joker must have really hated you if he didn’t bother with any kind of reaction.

Oh, well, serves you right for thinking you meant something to him. Lesson learned.


The first time he got a sign from you was after about 2 months. You called and he didn’t answer. It came through as “unknown number” because you weren’t in his contacts anymore, but he had the digits memorized. After about one hour, he received a text message: “Could you please meet me tonight around 10pm at the corner of Spencer’s and North Avenue? It’s really important. Please…I really need to talk to you.”

J deleted the message, upset you bothered him. For some reason though, he decided to go and see what the hell you wanted. He waited in the shadows behind the apartment building, watching you nervously pacing under the street light. You held a few papers in your hand and seemed distressed.

The Joker regretted coming so he stayed hidden, but didn’t leave. You waited for an hour and it began to rain. He could see you were soaked to the bone, still waiting on the almost deserted sidewalk. He was drenched also and didn’t move. You started to cry when you realized he won’t show up, holding up those papers to your chest. After another half an hour passed, you signaled a cab and one saw you right away. J decided to come out, thinking that if you notice him, he’ll talk to you. If not, oh well…

Of course you got into the taxi and didn’t see him approach. He had the perfect excuse for his indifference and you swore never to get a hold of him again. You bawled all the way back to your house, mad at yourself for being such an idiot. Yet, not too many choices at the time. You erased his phone number from your cell and as soon as you got home you smashed the phone to pieces, crying your eyes out since The Joker didn’t want to at least meet you when you really needed his help for once.


After 7 months, J is in a meeting, planning a heist and some transactions on the black market with his old business partner when the conversation steered towards your absence at the negotiation table. Everyone knew you were gone, but Jasper still ran his mouth.

“That’s too bad about what happened to Y/N, hm? How old is she, 35 ? I hope she makes it… Hard to tell with this kind of stuff…”

Your ex is not excited to hear your name. He would love to blow Jasper’s brains, but he’s still needed.

“Don’t push it,” J growls, annoyed, clenching his jaw.  The guy lifts his hands up in surrender, not having any desire to irritate the Clown Prince of Crime.

“No disrespect, sir, I was just talking without thinking.”

J keeps on marking locations on the map, absent minded.

“So…what happened to her?” he utters, not lifting his eyes from the important project.

“You don’t know?!” Jasper replies, intrigued.

“No,” J simply answers, sniffling.

“Do you really care to find out?”
“No… But tell me anyway!”

*** He debated for a week if he should call you or not. When he finally dialed your digits, the flat message made him roll his eyes: “This number has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

It took J about 3 more weeks to find your whereabouts. You can easily make yourself disappear under fake identities. Thankfully, The Joker has several ways of using his numerous resources when necessary.


Oh, no! you think when you hear the doorbell. You slowly get up from the couch, dizzy from the monthly IV medication dripping in your veins, one of the treatments you do at home. You grab the IV pole, rolling it towards the door. You bought this house outside the city, not wanting to be bothered. No neighbors around. And you didn’t order any food or supplies to be delivered like you usually do.

“Coming!” you announce, holding on to the wall with your free hand. “Who is it?” you inquire before opening the door.

“Pizza delivery,” the muffled voice answers.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” and you crack the door open. “Shit!” you gasp when you see J standing there and you shut the entrance immediately, locking it.

“Really?!” you hear him and you back out, alarmed. Surprisingly, no knocking or pounding.  And it clicks: the sliding glass door on the back porch is opened! You force yourself to walk as fast as you can, difficult since you are hooked to your IV.

“Dammit,” you mumble when you get to the living room and see he already got inside.

“I wasn’t aiming for this reaction,” J frowns, taking a few steps towards you.

“What…what are you doing here?!” you demand to find out since you’re not pleased about his presence. You really don’t need whatever the hell this is right now.

“What’s wrong with you?” he cuts to the chase, not in the mood for chitchatting. Those piercing eyes urge for an explanation.

“Nothing,” you grumble and squeeze the pole harder.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he points towards your IV. You sigh, feeling more and more uncomfortable.

“It’s only…only something to slow down the process…”

“What process?” The Joker barks, biting on his cheek.

“The process of me dying too fast,” you serenely admit. He keeps on staring at you, kind of stupefied at how you look: skinny, pale, dark circles under your eyes and he can notice it all since you have no make-up on. Your hair is dark blonde now, still long yet visibly thinned out.

“Nonsense, you’re too young,” he drops on the chair closer to him, crossing his legs.“Who helps you?” he begins another tirade of questions.

“Nobody; I leave alone, away from everyone. I don’t want to be seen like this and I can take care of myself,” you swallow the bitter taste on your tongue, nauseated. All the drugs you take have such awesome side effects. “Is this an interrogation? Because I don’t want to talk nor see anybody. So if you would just leave…” and you nod towards the sliding door he sneaked through.

“Nonsense,” he cuts you off, bouncing his leg on top of the other, impatient. He reaches for the papers scattered on the table in front of him, reading the names of the numerous vials with tablets, capsules and lozenges, aggravated. “Do you have a list of all the stuff you take?”

“Wh-what?! Could you just…just leave please?!” and you gag, almost vomiting, rushing to snatch a container from the kitchen counter with anti-nausea medication. You swallow one tablet with a few sips of water and go sit down on the couch, exhausted. J watches your every move without any comment.

“If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops,” you close your eyes, feeling the room spinning.

“Please do, I would love to tell them who you really are,” he scoffs, rattling some of your pills, amazed on how huge they are. Crap, the police threat didn’t work.

“Go home to your girlfriend and leave me alone,” you encourage him, hoping he’ll get lost.

“Go home to your girlfriend,” he imitates you, giving you a mean glare. “Do I look like a fool in a leash to you?! Don’t insult me! Plus, I hate her!” he snarls, finding what he came for in the documents pile: an inventory of all the things you take for your condition.

“You hate everybody, “ you whisper, biting your dry lips.

“A skill I take a lot of pride in,” he cracks his neck and finally gets up.

“Why are you here?” you tilt your head to the side, fighting to keep your raging sickness under control. “ Where…where were you when I needed you so badly, hm? I asked for a meeting and you didn’t even bother to come…I was scared and seeked your help. How stupid of me…,” you sadly smile and even if you don’t seem to cry, J notices tears rolling down your face. “Of course you are too busy to be bothered with someone so insignificant as your ex that wanted to tell you she found out she’s dying…” you wipe your tears, not breaking eye contact. Him adding to your misery doesn’t aid.

“Shut up, you’re not dying!!! And don’t talk to me like this again!” he growls at you before slamming the sliding door behind him.  

“I AM DYING!!” you yell, taking deep breaths to cool down.  

My God, what in the world was that?!!! Do you have to move now?! You are in no mood to do so, but probably you’ll have to pull yourself together and vanish once more. How did he find you?


You didn’t hear anything from him in a while and you are relieved: probably forgot about his little project involving you and lost interest like he usually does when he gets bored. It’s better this way; you don’t need to be stressed out about more problems, you don’t need your life turned upside down more than it already is.

You are coming back from your weekly check up at the clinic and you notice a black car in your driveway. You groan when you see Frost coming out of the vehicle, waiting for you. No choice but to park next to him and meet him.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Frost,” you cautiously greet. “Is J here?”

“No, but boss wanted me to give you this,” and Jonny hands over a sealed box.

“What is this?” you check, curious to hear about it. What is he up to?!

“Mister J says the directions are inside: take one of the red pills three times a day and the blue one just once daily. He also said to stop taking the three meds he crossed over on your med list. All in the box,” Frost blurs out, getting ready to flee. He sure is uncomfortable; knowing you, you’ll certainly decline.

“I don’t want anything from him!” you raise your voice.

He was afraid this will happen.

You place the box on the hood, heading towards the porch.

“I can’t tell him that! Please take it!”

“I don’t know what the hell those pills are and I don’t need his help. Just tell him I said that!”

“He’s not gonna like it…” Frost grumbles.

“So? I want to be left alone!!”


You are getting ready to go to sleep when you hear a loud bang: your front door is being opened and slammed. Must be J…and you are correct.

“Y/N?! Y/N! Where are you?” The Joker shouts, looking around for you.

“Ummm…here,” you get on your knees in bed, covering yourself with the comforter and bracing for the worst.

He storms in your bedroom, holding the box he sent earlier.

“I understand you refuse to take this?” his low voice echoes in the whole house.

“Yes, I don’t want it. Please leave!”

“Do you know what I’ve been doing for the past 3 weeks since I last saw you? Hmmm? Do you?!” he starts unwrapping the seal around the box, tossing it by you. “I broke into 3 research facilities, about 5 hospitals, kidnapped doctors and blackmailed others in exchange for information and treatments. Showed your med list to all of them and they came up with some new options for your disease!” J is so mad he’s slamming all the vials around, taking a red tablet out of one. “Take this!!” he shoves it in your face and you hesitantly move your head backwards.

“It’s a new experimental drug!!“ he roughly grabs your jaw.” I’ll get rid of the stuff you don’t have to take anymore.”

You sniffle, intrigued by his behavior and escape his grasp.

“Why are you tormenting me? Are you that bored? Why don’t you go back to Gotham?” You wipe your forehead, already tired from all this crap. “Do you feel…guilty?” you touch his hand, moving it away. He brings his face very close to yours, panting with indignation:

“I’m fucking buying you more time!! So take this goddamned pill or I’ll force you! I mean it!!”

You sigh, weighting in the options.

“Fine…I’ll take it…Are you happy now?” you reach for the bottle of water on the night stand and swallow the given medication.

“Ecstatic!” J grinds his teeth, vexed. “They told me you should expect nasty side effects, but it will get better.”  

You shrink under the cover.

“Well, I took it, so…you don’t have to be here anymore.”

“Are you kicking me out?” he goes on the other side of the bed, starting to pile up pillows.

“Please go back to Gotham,” you beg, uneasy at the thought of him spending the night.

He stretches, fed up with the conversation, wanting to relax after another long day.


One hour later you started feeling the aftermath of your new drug. You are used with being sick and yet it doesn’t make it easier. You shiver like a leaf, moaning in pain, adding 2 painkillers when the aching becomes unbearable. You try to get comfortable but it’s useless.

“Are you cold?” J asks, moving closer to you. “You…need… anything?” he struggles to offer, not really knowing how to react to the situation. You nod a faint yes, reaching your hands for him:

“Y-you…” the weak response comes, making him scoot over without hesitation. A strange warmness washes all over him, making his heart beat faster and it’s not a pleasant emotion. You curl up in a ball against his body while he covers you with his blanket too.

“J…” you whimper when his arms go around you, “ O-one of these days they’ll find me dead in here. C-can you take my things? I would hate for s-strangers to come in here, stealing what doesn’t belong to them. You know how much I care a-about my things… Y-yes?”

The Joker believes you’re delirious; he was warned about this common side effect of what you’re taking. Maybe you are…

“No, I won’t!” he emphasizes his refusal, inflexible in his decision.

“W-why not?” you lick your dried lips, getting even more upset.

“I only provide my services to people I like. You’re not on the list,” he makes sure to remind you.

“N-nobody’s on the list,” you crack an awkward smile, squinting your eyes when the muscle spasms hit again.

“Exactly,” J acknowledges, wondering how the hell you manage on your own when you are so ill. He caresses your hair and he notices so many strands left around his fingers.

“Jesus, Y/N!“ escapes his mouth before he can stop the words.

“I k-know I should shave my h-head and I just keep on p-postponing,” you tremble, praying you can rest for a little bit. So many sleepless nights, twisted thoughts and therapies took their toll on you.

After about 2 hours you finally fall asleep and he dozes off also, worn out and fighting with himself about what should happen next. J is not sure how long he’s been out, but when he wakes up it’s still dark and you are in his arms. It seems you didn’t move at all and he notices you’re not breathing.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, wake up!” he softly slaps your shoulder and there is no reaction. “Hey! Wake up I said!” he gets up on his elbow, terrified for once. “Open your eyes! Wake up!!!!” he shakes you, feeling he’s starting to sweat from the anxiety.

“Mmmm,” he hears your mumble and you cuddle more to his chest, keeping your hands under his pillow. “What is it?” you whisper, yawning.

He puts his head back on the cushions , truthfully admitting:

“Shit, I thought you died…”

“Not yet…” you calm him down, not wishing to wake up yet. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine…My blood pressure gets really low sometimes, I’m still here…” you kiss the skin in front of your lips, not realizing what you’re doing. You fall back into your dreamless daze while The Joker is unable to do anything else but repeat in his mind the simple sentence you used to let him know you’re still alive: “Not yet.”


You don’t go to the clinic anymore. A lot of your old meds are not needed according to the new care plan in place for you. New stuff is being added and some doctors are even brought to your house so they can assess you. Tests after tests, trial and error of all the drugs that The King of Gotham is able to smuggle and steal for you. You have such bad days you seriously consider giving up, which was the main idea before he showed up at your home that day.

You have no clue why he’s putting so much effort into it and he gets mad when you fight him, refusing to take your meds.

“Nothing is really working, they make me feel worse!” you sob, having a really bad day while being hooked to your new IV.

“Tough it out, Pumpkin, could be worse,” he grouchily snarls, moving some of your books around.

“You can’t buy me life, it’s too late,” you wail on your couch, depressed and ailing in every single fiber of your body.

“I’m not buying you life, Y/N, I’m buying you time!” J aims towards all the vials, bottles and containers containing the remedies you actually need.

“What does your girlfriend has to say about this? I bet she detests me since you spend so much time here,” you want to mention, blowing your nose in a tissue.

“I told you I hate her so I don’t care about what she thinks!” he barks and shoves the books around when a piece of paper folded in two flies out from one of them and lands on the floor. He picks it up and opens it, reading your note:

Bucket list

-go to Japan

- a family

- see J one last time - no, no, no!!

-meeting my knight in shining armor (he huffs)

-kidnap Commissar Gordon again (he smirks)

-see J one last time – no!!!!!!!!!!

-find out Batsy’s identity (he grins)

-steal more diamonds

-see J one last time - NOOOOO!!!!!!

“What are you doing?!” you jump off the couch when you see the paper in his hand.

“A bucket list Doll ?! Really?” he laughs because he has no better idea of how to get rid of this awful feeling in his heart.

“That’s private, give it back!” you barely drag your feet to go to him and yank the list out of his hand, placing in a drawer. “This is very personal stuff, you have no right to…”

“I do what I want!” he interrupts, giving you a high and mighty gaze. So typical.  

“You can’t just…”

“Tell someone that cares,” he turns his back on you, returning to his task and you sit there with your mouth open, outraged. You forgot to cry. “When are you going to shave your head? The new IV med will really make you lose more hair, that’s what they told me,” The Joker chatters, turning his attention towards you again. “Want me to do it for you? I’ve seen you have the electric hair clipper in the bathroom. Don’t be a chicken and do it!” he distracts you from your tirade.

“I’m not sure if…” you try to negotiate, but I guess he has a new assignment on the horizon. You are conscious you’ve been delaying this forever; your hair is so thin and limp it’s gross.

“Nahhh, I think we should go on with it! No better time than the present!” and he takes your hand, guiding you towards the bathroom while you steadily roll the IV pole with you. “Sit!” he pushes your shoulders down on the chair and brings over the tool, turning it on. You nervously gulp, watching chunks of your locks piling up on the marble flooring.

“Done!” he announces and you touch your bald head, getting up so you can see yourself in the mirror. It looks terrible and you start weeping.

“Ahhh, it’s not that bad kid. You’re still fairly pretty. To be honest, you’re uglier than before but I can still look at you,” J cheerfully concludes.

You elbow him through tears, appalled at your reflection.

“You suck at making people feel better, you know that?”

“Another skill I take great pride in,” he winks, grinding his silver teeth and you cry harder.

“My hair…it’s …just…gone,” you stammer, saddened beyond control, stroking your shaved skin.

He sighs, softly pushing you away from the mirror, still holding the trimmer.

“You know, Princess, I’m starting to get sick of my green hair, I had it for a while,” he passes his fingers through it, turning his head left and right.

“Huh?” you whimper, sniffling.

Before you can react, he turns on the trimmer again, starting to shave his head. You stop bawling, shocked, watching his green locks falling to the ground.

“What are you doing, J?!”

“Isn’t it obvious? Getting rid of something I’m bored with. There, done! Com’ere!” he urges you to return in front of the mirror with him. “I think we look pretty good, won’t you say?” he puckers his lips and you start crying so hard it makes him cringe. “Would you stop it??!! I didn’t do it for you, I’m too selfish. I was really tired of my toxic green hair, got it?”

You nod a yes and hug him, squeezing him in your arms as hard as you can since your IV line doesn’t permit a wide range of motion.


Later that evening

“Are you ready?” he peeks in the bedroom to see you dressed up. “Told you some make-up will do the job, you’re much prettier now. Still not up to my standards, but…”

You walk towards him in your floral summer dress, sulking.

“Horrible person…” you mutter, elbowing him. “Where are we going?”

“I need your help with something and since you didn’t get out of the house in forever, I have plans for today.”
“Where are we going?” you insist, stepping outside and observe the silver car on the driveway, probably dropped off by his men because he didn’t have it there this morning.

The Joker gets dresses with his silver jacket, taking a deep breath before laying it down for you:

“The silver jacket is the most I can do for the shiny armor, ok? Plus the car,” and cracks his fingers, a bit uneasy.

You seem puzzled.

“Your stupid bucket list, Doll: the knight in shining armor thing. I’m not wearing a dumb armor, this is the most I’m willing to do.”

You stare at him, speechless, on the verge of crying as he can see your lips quivering.

“Uhhh, give me a break!”  J growls, giving you a nudge towards the car.


“What are we doing at Jasper’s hideout?” you step out of the car, wondering what he has in mind.

“Some business to attend to and I need your help, OK?”

“OK,” you agree, hesitant.

When you both walk in with the new bald looks, everybody at the meeting instantly stops talking and glances, astonished.

“Wha’? “ J guides you to your seats, “You didn’t see two beautiful people before?!” and the tone in his voice makes them all aware they shouldn’t make it so obvious they’re perplexed at the change.

They all start talking in the same time, apologizing and attempting to fix their mistake.

“Shut the hell up!” he addresses the crowd, irked. “Wrong spot, Y/N!” he signals you to get up from your chair and you do as asked, confused. “Here!” he pulls you in his lap and you place your hand around his neck, smiling. “We are negotiating with this fine…gentlemen; I’m too exhausted for this, you do it.”

Wow, they didn’t see you in more than a year and now you show up here with Mister J, back to what you used to do. What’s going on? they all ask themselves, knowing they won’t get an answer.

The Joker rests his head on your shoulder, listening to the sound of your voice resonating in his ears.

He might not be able to buy life for the girl he hates so much, but he can buy her time. As much as he can.


So Much

Summary: Ian is married to Mickey when he goes away for three days on a work retreat. Mickey spends some time at the Gallagher’s house with Fi, V, Debbie, and Mandy to accidentally get extremely drunk and confess some things.

Word Count: 1557

“It’s only three days, babe,” Ian says before putting his jacket on.

Mickey nods. “I’ll be fucking fine,” he tries to say convincingly, but Ian sees right through him.

Ian giggles. “A three day work retreat is not something to be so worried about.”

“Not worried,” Mickey lets out a heavy breath, and tries to avoid making eye contact with the taller man. “Just gonna miss you is all.”

Ian smiles and walks closer to his husband. “I’m gonna miss you too.” He places a hand on the dark haired man’s cheek. When Mickey finally looks up, he kisses him lightly. “I gotta go, Mick,” they lean their foreheads together.

“Okay,” Mickey tries to make his voice steady. “Love you,” he smiles.

“Love you too,” Ian says before separating from his husband. He grabs his coat and wave goodbye as he walks out the door.

Mickey stands there for a moment, but he phone cuts off the silence. He sees a text from his sister. “Gallagher house. 7:00. Don’t be late.”

OK, Mandy.” He’s glad he’ll have something to do tonight instead of sit in this apartment all alone.

Instead of doing nothing all day, he cleans for the first time in his life. Chores and cleaning were never enforced rules in his house growing up, so it’s not something he’s used to doing.

To his surprise, housework takes up a lot of time. When he checks the clock, he sees it’s 6:30 already, so he jumps into the shower, changes and starts walking to the Gallagher house.

Mickey walks into his husband’s family’s house and looks around for where everyone is. When he doesn’t see anybody, he makes his way into the kitchen to grab a beer.

Suddenly he hears the back door open, when he turns to see who it is he sees Mandy, Fiona, V, and Debbie. “Hey,” Fiona greets. Mickey tips his beer at her in return.

V starts to chuckle. “Lookin’ a little gloomy, Milkovich,” she says because she knows Ian left for his trip a few hours ago.

He scoffs. “The fuck would I be gloomy for? Who even uses the word ‘gloomy.’”

“I do,” V shoots at him. “And because your boy toy’s gone.” She chuckles.

Mickey rolls his eyes. Luckily, he knows how

to cover his emotions, but he is pretty upset about it. “It’s three fucking days, not the end of the world.”

“A lot can happen in three days, Mick,” Debbie pushes making the other three girls laugh.

He chucks the middle finger in return. “Fuck all of you.” Mickey puts his eyes on his beer making sure no one sees what he’s really feeling.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Mandy says to her brother. “We know you miss him.”

“Fuck off, holy shit,” he hisses. “Let’s eat already.”

Once the girls quit teasing Mickey, they eat their dinners. The five of them sit around the table having conversations about work, raising kids, and just some pointless, silly stuff. After they are done eating, Fiona brings out more alcohol. Mickey rolls his eyes at her and claims he’s ready to leave, but the girls insist that he stays with them instead of being alone.

Unsurprisingly, V is the first to get completely trashed, but to everyone’s amazement, Mickey is just a drunk as her. Mickey can hold his liquor, so they were assuming he had drank much more than them. Instead of drinking with him– Mandy, Debbie, and Fiona decide to joke with him when they see him staring at the wall, deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind, Mickey?” Debbie prys with a grin.


“What about him?” The girl’s notice that his guard is down for the first time in forever, so they crowd around him.

“Miss ‘im. Miss him a lot,” he sighs. “He’s the best, y’know?” Mickey smiles when the others agree with him. “The fucking best.”

The girls giggle. “What do you love about him so much?” Mandy asks before taking her cell phone out to videotape the response.

Suddenly Mickey’s eye widen. “Oh shit. That’s a loaded fuckin’ question.” He pauses. “You want everything, like how and why and when,” he asks confusingly, “or just like the things I love in general? Like all his little freckles and the bright green eyes and shit like that?” No one can believe what they’re hearing– Mickey’s actually going to be sincere for once in his life.

“Ummm, everything. How and why and when– whatever that means.”

He grins. “Here I fucking go,” he prepares himself. “Back when I was seventeen and he stormed into my bedroom with that rusty ass crowbar to try to get the gun I stole from Kash. He was so fucking fearless, and that’s when I knew.”

V raises her eyebrows. “Knew what? You were too fucking stubborn to know anything.”

“No. I knew he’d be the one I loved from that day forward which is why I was so fucking stubborn. It scared the shit outta me, I’ll tell ya,” he snorts. “I wouldn’t kiss him for two years– literally every time he tried I threatened to ‘rip his fucking tongue out.’ The day I did though it really made me know that he was it for me. That feeling we had between us– I was fucking gone for him. I got shot that same day,” he raises his eyebrows. “Why do I always get fucking shot because of him? What the fuck?”

Fiona laughs. “Okay, get back on topic.”

He nods and takes another swig of whiskey. “Then the day when DCFS came and he got sent to that group home,” he starts. The girls give each other the same shocked expression because they’ve heard bits and pieces about this day, just not everything. “That day I invited him to sleepover. He was so happy when I asked– God, that cute fucking laugh he had,” he shakes his head. “Anyway, he came over after work and we watched movies and I made food for us, it was nice, which I’d never have admitted back then, but it was, I always thought so. We talked, we kissed a little, we fucked–” he pauses and gets a terrified expression on his face. “Then Terry walked in.”

“Mick,” Mandy says under her breath. Though she wants to hear what happened, she nervous to hear the story.

“He fucking caught us. That fucker went straight for Ian. He started punching him, almost knocking him unconscious, but I jumped on his back and screamed for him to leave Ian alone,” he shutters. “That’s when he started on me. Beat me until blood covered my whole face, and after that he was about to head for Ian again. Thank God I found enough strength to hit him again, causing a distraction because I don’t know what he would have done to him. Eventually though, he pistol whipped me and I don’t remember anything from then to until Svetlana came and Terry forced her to rape me–”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Mandy says harshly.


“About Svet?”

“How do you think the bitch got pregnant? Terry forced her to rape me and Ian had to fucking watch,” he says coldly. It was a terrible day for them. “Then after Ian was gone, he said I had to marry her or else he’ll kill Ian. So I did what I needed to do– should’ve told Ian right then though. Maybe he wouldn’t have left.”

They all look at him with sorrowful and shocked eyes as he pauses.

“When I found Ian though– after he left– I knew I couldn’t let him leave ever again. I’ve never needed anyone before, but fuck, I’ve always needed him. I could careless how fucking crazy he is, I need him and I’ve loved him in all his twisted and fucked up forms.” He starts to smile. “So what I’m saying is that I love him so much because we survived all that shit. Through all of that, he still managed to turn me into a better man and a better father to Yev. So that’s why.”

Debbie jumps on Mickey, pulling him in for a tight hug. She can’t believe the two of them needed to go through so much to get to where they are today. Once Debbie let go and Mickey looks around the room, he notices saddened and awed faces. “I also love his red hair, and that fucking smile,” he starts saying to lighten the mood. “And his abs– I mean shit,” he says with a laugh, causing all the girls’ jaws to drop. “Oh and I love his long arms and legs so much because when it’s cold he always wraps himself all the way around me to warm me up. I love that stuff so much,” he snorts. “Or when he clings onto me while he’s sleeping, I love that too.” He smiles. “He’s fucking perfect.”

“Man, you’re gonna hate that we got you this drunk tomorrow,” V laughs as the everything lightens again and she thinks about how Mickey is going to react to the thought of this conversation once he sobers up.

“Well, I’d appreciate me being drunk like this while ya can, ladies,” he laughs and then passes out, leaving the girls to drink by themselves.

playing with fire (6) | taehyung

Originally posted by kths

genre: fluff, fuckboy taehyung, smut                                                           

pairing: taehyung x reader 

summary: you knew what you were in for, but it was too late to get out. besides, it’s not like you wanted to anyways. 

last chapter: here

     Here’s some good news and bad news. Good news is, Taehyung has ignored you for about 2 weeks straight. Bad news is, you miss him. As much as you didn’t want to, you did. But it was your fault he was gone. It was your fault he doesn’t glance your way anymore. Your fault that you were invisible to him. Your fault that he was back to being the fuckboy he always was. 

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[request] [scenario] sleeping beauty

Originally posted by soniathearmycarat

(requested by @cosmic-weird-soul o mg idk wat this is im sry if this is a mess AHAH ty for requesting luv u <3) 

Title: sleeping beauty

Member: hansol ft. members

Genre: fluff // angst if u squint 

Word Count: 1649

“Uncle, when you said ‘summer job’ I was thinking more… You know, convenience store cashier,” you mumble, glancing out the window at the fans lined up outside, cameras flashing and girls screaming. “Not assistant manager for an idol group.”

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BTS Reacts - Your Drawing Of Them

Hoseok: When Hobi finds you huddled over a desk, moaning endlessly to yourself, he becomes worried - what exactly are you slaving over? You don’t notice his presence in the room, so you keep at your detailed sketch of Jung Hoseok; your eyes dart back and forth between a picture reference of him and your own work. He cranes his neck over your shoulder, muttering a faint ‘whoa’ under his breath. He knows that this is your line of work - he just never knew how amazingly capable you are at it. Hoseok is so proud of you, that he just wants to comment on your work until he’s dried out of compliments. However, he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it - he knows you get easily flustered to showcase your art, so instead, he chooses make light of the situation by striking a dramatic pose, which makes you laugh in response.

“So beautiful! Those lines, the strokes, those details! So perfect! This - this is art!”

Seokjin: He’s casually browsing your phone since his has just run out of battery, when suddenly, he swipes through your photos to find something that piques his interest. Jin fixates his stare on your screen as his expression turns to one of enthrallment. Your brows knit as you ask him, what are you looking at? He lifts his arm higher toward the ceiling, admiring the image in your phone’s gallery while you jump up and down, clawing at his wrist to get your cell back. The watercolours that stained the thick, textured paper painted a portrait of one handsome Kim Seokjin. You’ve been quiet about your current side project this whole time, which makes him wonder why you feel the need to shy your talents away from the public eye; he thinks what you’ve created is absolutely beautiful and worthy of praise.

“I can’t believe you drew me so well! I guess it helps to have such a good-looking subject, huh?”

Taehyung: When Tae stumbles across your drawing of him, he becomes absolutely flattered. This inflates his ego, especially since it’s a notable piece of work. He would constantly badger you about it - why did you choose me? Is it because I’m the handsomest member? Taehyung would start to act mockingly cute to further tease you and your supposed ‘obsession’ with him. If he doesn’t already think that you have a crush on him, he would now - not that he would mind it. He’s always thought of your strong interest in the arts as something very agreeable. He places his hands on his cheeks, flamboyantly exhibiting his features. ‘Wanna do another one of me?’ - a disgusted moan is heard from Min Yoongi before he abruptly slaps the boy who’s taunting you, across his face.

“I was just kidding! Well, not really. You can draw me as much as you like, just make sure you show it to me next time, okay?”

Namjoon: Namjoon would rest his revering gaze on you as he covertly watches you draw, standing behind your seat wordlessly. You’ve painted an impressive, well-proportioned sketch in his likeness. He knows the artist in you always thinks of yourself as your own worst critic, but he could see no fault in your craft. He would watch not only the varied gestures in your hands, but the gentle, patient expression on your face as you remain quiet - he is enjoying every second of your impassioned focus - he’s enjoying watching you. Namjoon ponders what might have possibly prompted you to draw him, of all the things you could have, around you. Either way, he’d feel pretty proud of you for finishing this, and appreciative that he’s the illustration of your choice. He smiles warmly before speaking up:

“Ah, you’re an awesome artist.  I don’t know how, but you’ve made me look even more handsome.”

Jimin: Jimin is about to make himself comfortable on your couch, when he spies an array of familiar photographs strewn across your desk - all pictures of him. He unearths an accurate charcoal depiction of him; the resemblance is uncanny. He is wholly and utterly embarrassed by this, but he can’t deny the fact that he’s also pretty amused by your efforts to have hidden this from him for so long. When he thinks of you sketching away at his portrait; the characteristics of his face being so thoroughly canvassed by you, it makes his cheeks flush red. You’ve always told him you were working on something ‘beautiful’ - a word he’s always used to summarize you in his mind - to realize you’d been referring to him all along, makes a sheepish grin appear on his lips. When you come home, all he can muster is a meek:

“This is amazing - but did you really have to use this many references of me?”

Yoongi: ‘Why can’t I look at what you’re working on?’ You try to repel Yoongi’s attempts at snatching the sketchbook out of your hands. You warn him not to be an ass before you leave to relieve yourself in the bathroom, and of course, he takes this opportunity to pry while you’re gone. His nose scrunches as his lips grow wide while he takes in your artistry. Low-key wants to steal it so he can frame it up in his bedroom. He knows humility is an important trait to being a noble creator, but he definitely wants to urge you to put your work out more, especially because it’s good. Yoongi wants nothing more than to see you be successful in your dreams, even if that means giving you a little push. When you come back, he appears to have a little drawing of his own in his hands:

“If I trade you for an original Min Yoongi, would you let me have yours? I’ll only post it on every social media platform I have an account for.”

Jungkook: The maknae is astounded by the detailed crosshatching in the pencil strokes that brought the piece together - he wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that it was a picture of him. Jeon Jungkook would be attracted by the effortlessness of your natural abilities, and would want to get closer to you because of it. After witnessing this impeccable image, whenever he thinks of you, he does it with a newfound respect and wonderment for your being as a whole - he adores the talent you always seem to dismiss as a regularity. When you notice your sketchbook in his hands, the expression on your face turns to one of distress; it doesn’t help that it’s under the rest of Bangtan’s scrutiny, too. Jungkook tries to ease your concerns. He never wants you to feel like you’re being judged, even if he thinks that you’re pretty damn special for being able to do what you do.

“Sorry we took a peek - but I really love this! You’re really good at drawing. How come you’ve never shown us any of this? I think your artwork is seriously professional!”

Two requests in one! I hope you guys like it! <3

Bidding on The Avengers (part 1)

F!reader x Avengers (eventually)

Summary: Tony is organizing a charity event in which all his teammates (individually) will be auctioned off to the highest bidder, and go on a date.

A/n: This is just the first part, setting up the story. The rest of the series will be the reader x various avengers. I have Thor’s, Bruce’s, T'Challa’s, and Vision’s started.

“What a marvelous idea! This ball of charity!” Thor exclaimed. He had a big grin plastered on his face after hearing Tony’s announcement.

All the Avengers were gathered in the common area.

“You see? Thor, has the right kind of attitude!” Tony stated nodding his head, then he pointed at the rest of the Avengers. 

The team continued to glare at Tony in response.

“The rest of you… Could be a little more excited, it’s for underprivileged children after all.“ 

Pepper cleared her throat. 

“The auction is raising money for education. I already gave generous donations to various children organizations on your behalf.”

Tony shrugged, “Either way, it’s for a good cause.”

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The Gap

Summary: You are a morning person and Yoongi is definitely not—so for better or worse, something is going to change when fate places your windows less than three meters away from each other.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff, Neighbors AU
Word Count: 2,603
Author’s Note: Inspired by that Friends episode “The One With All The Haste” and the singing man across the way who sang “Morning’s here, sunshine’s here” like clockwork at the crack of dawn.


Most people would describe the morning sunlight as bright, cheerful, endearing, warm, and peaceful, the rays like a stretch of encouragement from the sky. The promise of a new day, a brand new 24 hours to start fresh, make better choices, take initiation, try new thing or explore vast places, go on adventures or be in good company. The options were limitless, as high as the sky that shone above.

Yoongi, however, would describe the morning sunlight like a bucket of ice cold water, a bitter cup of coffee—too sharp, too sudden, ripping him apart from joyous things like sleep or dreams or a warm bed. It jolts him awake, clouds his mind more than clears it. More often than not, he finds himself burying his face into his pillow to muffle his groans, clearly hoping that if he groans loud enough it could turn back time.

But alas, that is not how the universe was created—so it doesn’t do much.

Yoongi supposes that a small percentage of this mindset should be his own fault, his own lack of aspirations making the 24 hours appear so much slower than they are to other people. He has dreams of course, passions that could challenge any other visionary on the street. But the weight of life has caught Yoongi in the stream, dragging him down the current and away from his desire, leaving him on the shore that takes the form of a coffee shop across the way. Albeit, it’s not an entirely bad gig—the tip is good and some of his best friends also work in the corner shop and his boss doesn’t actually treat him like shit. It just doesn’t leave Yoongi satisfied. It eats into his already very thinly veiled patience for the morning.

See the light where the sky meets the sea, and it calls me,” A clear voice rings through the thin window in Yoongi’s bedroom, the consistency and deja vu of the noise leaving a painful reminder in Yoongi’s mind about the time as it groans and throws the blankets over his head.

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sterek au: landlord!derek and tenant!stiles

based loosely on this gif set and tags, prompt by fin. written for sterekfest! wish i could have written something longer, but i hope you enjoy anyway <3


Stiles has a mission. He has a mission and a list – a long list that details with bulleted subpoints all the things wrong with his apartment. Sure, he’s thankful for having a roof over his head (if said roof didn’t leak) and at a fair price (which was really the selling point, let’s be honest). But still, Stiles drops most of his measly paycheck on rent every month, and he’d like a place that wasn’t falling apart. That was only fair.

The building meeting is on the fifth floor. When he arrives, there’s only one other guy there, sitting on a blue couch. Stiles immediately heads over to the large window and starts pacing. “I feel kinda bad for the landlord,” Stiles begins, nervous energy buzzing through his limbs.

“Oh?” the man replies.

“Yeah, I’d hate to be in his shoes, being bombarded with complaints all night. But dude, my water pressure’s terrible, three panes in the window are broken and one has a hole in it, my garbage disposal smells like something died inside of it, and that’s just the top of the list.” Stiles spins around and finally looks at the guy on the couch. He’s never seen him around before, and Stiles guesses he could be considered attractive if you find bearded gym rats hot. Stiles refrains from rolling his eyes because the guy is obviously a douche. Just look at those eyebrows.

“What about you? Please don’t tell me your apartment is perfect, but knowing my luck and probably yours, everything works perfectly for you like it always has and I got the shit apartment.” The guy just stares at him and says nothing. Stiles rolls his eyes as he turns back towards the window, mumbling under his breath, “Typical.”

“What’s typical?”

Stiles spins around again, mouth open in exaggerated shock. “Oh, you mean you’re actually going to talk to me? Words finally making sense to you now?”

The man’s mouth pulls down into a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Look, I know it pains guys like you to talk to guys like me because it lowers your cool quotient or you only waste your breath on people as hot as you or something, but we do live in the same building. We’re neighbors. I was trying to be neighborly.”

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Loving can hurt

Kol x Reader


Synopsis: Mystic Falls’ crew kidnaps you intending to kill Kol, then he comes to rescue you and a few things happen.

Word count: 1658

“Elena, I am sorry, but I am not going to help you, or anyone, to kill him!”

“For God’s sake, Y/N!” She yelled, frustrated. “He is an awful, merciless, crazy maniac! How come you are letting him live? Have you forgotten how much pain he has put you through?”

You gulped, not having a real clever answer in your mind. Of course Elena was right, Kol Mikaelson was a synonym for trouble and you really was out of mind to step up and defend him. But you had developed a friendship with him and got to know a side of him no one could even imagine. The thought of somebody hurting him made you physically ill.

“I know that, Elena.”


“I am still not joining this messed up plan.”

Bonnie, who was quiet all this time, just listening, stood up and glanced over you, as if she was trying to understand what exactly you had in mind. “Sorry, Bonbon, it is not exactly an easy task.”, you thought, almost laughing at your tragical life. She opened her mouth and closed right after. It took a few tries before Bonnie actually spoke:

“You sentencing Jeremy to death.”

“I am not! I can talk to Kol, even to Klaus, get them to…”

“Well, if you are so popular with the Mikaelsons, how about we use you to drawn them here?” Damon said, sarcastically, coming out through the kitchen door. “I mean, you are not willingly helping us, but it will do the trick just the same.”

You wided your eyes, actually scared they might use that to get what they want. Of course, complete the Hunter’s mark and find the bloody cure to Elena would make them do anything.

“Come on, Damon, you do not have to do this.”

“Are you helping us, then?”

“I need some air, a little time to think about it.”

“Unfortunately we do not have time.” You heard Stefan say.

Sunddenly, you felt an aching pain in your head and fell, not being able to stand due the dizziness. It took no more than five minutes for you to lose your consciouness.

[Later that day]

“Can somebody think?” You heard, vaguely. “Y/N is about to wake up and Kol is not here yet.”

Your head still hurt a little, perks of being a human. Not an ordinary one, since you discovered, a few weeks ago, you belonged, or should, anyway, to pack of wolves from the North East Atlantic. That’s why Niklaus Mikaelson took so much interest on you and pulled you into his family business.

After all the Mikaelsons were freed from their long sleep, also known as being daggered by their half brother, you met the one who stole your heart: Kol Mikaelson. He looked so… Unique. Of course your relationship had a rocky start, as he tried to drink from you, tortured you and would have killed you if Klaus had not stopped. The whole thing made you hate him for awhile and plot a revenge, helping your friends to get information.

“So, we text or call?”

“We should wait until she’s awake. It would be way more dramatic.”

You tried to focus on their voices, to tell them apart and know who the hell was talking.

“Damon, I already feel bad enough to be doing this to her, she does not deserve it. Y/N is my friend, our friend. This whole thing is not fair!”

“Elena, she chose a maniac over you. Keep that in mind.”

“I have to agree with Damon on this. It hurts me too, but we have to do it.”


Now you were fully awake and aware of what was going on. Your hands were tied up and you were standing, limp. Only a small candle enlightened the room, providing a fuzzy image. You had to find a way to prevent the disaster that was about to happened. Because if they did not kill Kol, which was already a bad thing, he would go nuts and go on a killing spree, not letting any of your friends alive to tell the story. You knew what he was capable of. 

You started moving, just for them to realise you were awake.

“Perfect timing, sweetheart!”

“Damon… All of you! Do not mess with this family, because if you kill one of them, his siblings will not rest until you are dead.”

“Blah, Blah, Blah.”

“I mean it!”

“Can somebody just call the bastard?”

You twitched, trying to free yourself from the ropes. Of course, it was useless. In times like these you really wished you were a wolf and not this pathetic little weak human.

You let out a sigh.

“I promise I will let you out as soon as this is over.” Elena whispered. “I am sorry you are caught in the middle of this.”

“Elena… Listen to me, please.” You asked, almost begging. “Kol can be a nice person, if he wants. However, he is also a wicked son of a bitch who will kill anyone that gets in his way.”

“Tell me again why you are friends with him?”

“It’s complicated.”

You lowered you head, not quite wanting to reply that question. Being around him was hard and messy. It pulled you to Kol even more, though.

Both Stefan and Damon walked towards you and Elena, the latter grinning and holding a phone in his hand. You did not know what was so complicated for them to understand, however, it was already too late for that.

Y/N, why are you calling me? Something happened, love?” Kol’s voice sounded preoccupied.

“Not quite, honey.” Damon smirked, replying. “But if I were you, I’d hurry. Things are about to get wild.”

He hung up.

“Now we should get prepared.”

“Let me go, now!” You cried. “You got what you wanted.”

“We will do that… After he is dead.”

“Damon, you are so freaking annoying!”

Then they left, leaving you all alone in the dark cold cell.


[A few minutes later]

You heard a thud upstairs and instantaneously got worried. One more time you tried to free your wrists, using all the strength you got on your bones. Push after push, nothing worked.

Where is she?” Kol screamed and you heard another thud. “Let her out. GIVE HER BACK TO ME!

“Oh damn it!” You cursed, angry with all of that.


“Caroline? I didn’t know you were here.”

“Listen to me, we don’t have time. Are you sure you can control Kol?”

“What have he done?”

“Just answer me!”

“Yeah, I can talk him out of killing everyone.”

“Then come.”

She was not very kind when she pulled the rope, making you stumble and almost hit the floor, since your legs were still weak from the time you spent hanging. You walked slowly and she offered to carry you, if it would make things faster.

The minute you arrived at the living room, you realised why they needed you up there. Kol had his hands right at Elena’s neck and one very close to her heart. He would kill her without blinking.

Fuck, you hated being the reason to all of this.

“Please, stop!”, you said, your eyes watering. “I am here, Kol, you don’t have to hurt anybody else.”

As he heard you, the Mikaelson loose the tightened grip around the older Gilbert. She ran away from him and hid under Damon’s arms, obviously scared. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, they wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I was just so worried about you.”

He pulled you into his embrace, where you went without complaining. It felt so good to be close to him. Smell his glorious scent, hear him breathing. The whole package. You almost forgot there were other people watching you hugging.

“Now you”, Kol suddenly spoke, looking at your friends. “Tell me, why you needed me here?” 

“We wanted to complete the mark. Killing you was the best cheat we got.” Damon replied.

“Funny, I guess you know that if anyone manages to kill me… My sireline dies whithin.” He stated. “Also, you all could be sired to me.”

“We are all sired to Klaus.”

“Well, mate, you can never be really sure of that.” He let out a devilish smile. “Anyway, I should get going.”

Before you and him left, Kol, in a minimum amount of time, grabbed Damon by his neck and lifted him up.

“If you ever touch her again, you will not live to tell.”

Kol then smiled and let him go, walking to you and holding your hand, after he got close enough.

Outside, it was a windy, and the moon shone vividly. A perfect ending to a very nasty day. For second you thought somebody would end up dead. And now… All you wanted to do was kiss your friend and say it would have hurt the hell out of you if he died.

Kol stopped and gave you an intense look, one that made you shudder out of pleasure. It was a mixture of feelings you did not care to understand completely.

“I love you.”

You froze.

“You w-what?”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You bit your lower lip and he watched, a grin on his face.

“Well… I guess… Hum… I love you too.”

“Took you long enough to say it, love.”

You giggled.

He cupped your cheeks, leaning to kiss you, which he did, very carefully. His lips were wonderful and the couple of seconds it lasted, it was great. Gosh, you felt like jumping and laughing.

He smiled against your mouth.

“I guess we should get going. Nik will not be pleased to know the events of this afternoon.”

“Tell me about it!”

“You handle him.”

“Are you crazy?”

You laughed, as he placed a hand on your waist, getting you even closer to him. You could not help but think that was perfect. Not just the moment. Everything.

All perfect.

Like it should be.

Worse Than a Slap (Coda to 12x11 “Regarding Dean”)

During the spell, Dean managed to find time to send a message out. Only thing is he can’t remember what he said. Now Castiel is avoiding him, and he can’t figure out why that is? But when he does, he knows exactly what to do. (AO3)

            Castiel sits in the war room, surrounded by papers, maps, and books. They go unnoticed, untouched, as Cas stares at his phone. It rests in his hand, his grip on it tight. It-He is shaking. The pin board is just a few feet away, Kelly’s smiling face in the center staring at him, laughing at him-

           “Cas, we’re home!”

           Castiel looks up, whipping his phone away, hiding it in his pocket. He stands, just as Sam walks into the room, a bag of take out in hand.

           “Sam,” he attempts a smile, “good to see you. Is Dean-“

           “Right, here, Cas,” Dean walks in, a grin plastered on his face. He’s already got a drink in hand, and takes a sip out of it.

           “Dean,” Castiel smiles, “You remember me?”

           Sam and Dean share a glance at Castiel’s reaction. Dean walks forward; just enough to see Castiel’s blue eyes were starting to get glassy.

           “Of course,” he starts, “Why wouldn’t I?”

           “The memory spell,” Castiel says, tilting his head, “the one you told me about?”

           “I did?”

           “You don’t… remember?” Cas closes the gap, frowning, “is it… do you-”

           “No, no,” Sam answers, walking towards them, “we handled it. Dean’s better.”

           “I have no memory of anything that happened while under the spell,” Dean shrugs, “but thankfully, that’s the only thing I can’t remember.”


           Dean and Sam exchange another glance as Castiel steps back, hands reaching into his pocket.

           “Did I,” Dean asks, “Did I say anything el-“

           “No,” Cas cuts him off, blushing, “you called to assuage me of any worry. Although telling me about it did nothing to help.”

           “Sorry Cas,” Dean chuckles, laying his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “wasn’t in my right mind.”

           “That’s right,” Cas says, shaking his head, “you weren’t.” He doesn’t look at Dean. Dean swallows hard, and turns to look at Sam. Sam shrugs.

           He walks towards the table, putting the bag down. “We were just about to have dinner, Cas,” Sam says, “would you like any-“

           “No,” Castiel says, stepping away from Dean, “I think I’ll just go lie down. I’m… tired.”

           “Really? I thought you couldn’t get-“

           He walks away before Dean can finish. All Dean can do is watch him go.


           “What?” Dean says, gruff.

           “You sure you can’t remember anything from the curse?” Sam asks, pulling out the food, “Like, at all?”

           “It’s just one, big black spot Sammy,” Dean sighs, moving closer. He waves his hand by his head, “’S’all gone!”

           “Well, you better hope it comes back,” Sam says, “because something tells me your little chat with Cas wasn’t just that.”

           “You and me both,” Dean mutters, taking one of the containers and popping it open. He takes a bite of the rice, and looks back at where Castiel walked out.


            Sam is sitting at a table in the library, looking over the spell book Dean and he had acquired. He’s been making notes on them, their translations, trying to glean any useful spells he and Dean might need in the future. That is, until he hears the sounds of footsteps. He looks up to see Castiel standing in the entryway, wringing his hands together, and looking everywhere but at him.

           “Something on your mind, Cas?” Sam puts the book down.

           “May I,” Castiel starts, “May I speak with you?”

           “Of course,” Sam smiles, “you know that.”

           Castiel nods, still not meeting Sam’s eyes. He shuffles forward and takes a seat across from Sam. He drums his fingers on the wood. Castiel takes his time talking, so Sam does the first step for him.

           “Does this have anything with how you’ve been avoiding Dean,” Sam says, startling Castiel into looking him.

           “You noticed?”

           Sam rolls his eyes. “You haven’t been exactly subtle,” Sam leans back, “maybe don’t run out the second he enters a room.”

           Castiel blushes, remembering what Sam is talking about. A few days ago, Castiel had been in the kitchen looking for something, anything to do. His head was in the kitchen and the general humming distracted him from listening. That’s why he didn’t hear Dean until he was right behind him.

           And how Dean scared him enough to hit his head on one of the shelves.

           He bolted the second he could, refusing to look back at Dean. If he did… he wouldn’t have left.

           “It may,” Castiel answers Sam’s first question, leaning back as well.

           “What is it?”

           “Dean, when under the spell,” Castiel says slowly, choosing his words carefully, “How… how was he?”

           “How was he?” Sam parrots, eyebrows raised.


           “Well, he was fine… for a bit,” Sam tells him, “it was kind of funny, too. He got slapped… forgot the names of things… even forgot which key was Baby’s. But then, then he couldn’t remember his name or-or my name. He forgot more and more with each passing minute it… it scared me. And through it all he was just-happy.”


           “He couldn’t remember his life,” Sam says, “the life of a hunter. Anyone would be happy to not have this life.”

           “Does he,” Castiel swallows, “Does he wish he still doesn’t remember all that we-all that he did?”

           Sam raises a brow at Castiel’s misstep, but answers him anyway. “No,” he says, “he doesn’t. Sure, being able to live a life without being a hunter is rare, but it wouldn’t be Dean. It must have felt nice, for a bit, too escape, but Dean knows this is what he wants in his life.”


           Sam can see Castiel thinking, and then watches as he pulls his cell phone out from his coat pocket. He plays with it, fiddling with it while looking up at Sam every few seconds. Sam waits, not wanting to scare him off.

           “Hey Sam I was-Cas?”


           Castiel stands, pushing the seat back. He stares at Dean, eyes wide and mouth open. Dean mirrors him for a few seconds, then comes back to himself.


           He turns and walks out, leaving Dean standing there, his hand outstretched. Dean frowns, lowering his hand. He looks to Sam, only for Sam to roll his eyes at him and shrug. Dean slumps, and walks over to take Castiel’s seat across from Sam.

           “Do you have any idea what I did?”

           “I might have,” Sam snorts, “before you spooked him.”

           Dean throws his arms out, “Really?”

           “It must have been something big, Dean,” Sam says, “I bet you wish you were back dealing with slap-girl.”

           “I wish all Cas did was slap me,” Dean says, looking down, “at least it’d hurt less.”

           Sam’s about to ask what he means when Dean pushes back his seat, eyes locked on something.

           “What is it?”

           “Cas’s phone,” Dean answers, holding up the small, black object, “he must’ve dropped it when I… yeah.”

           “His phone?” Sam’s eyes widen, “you know what this means?”

           “We can text Claire and play a prank on her?” Dean huffs, “I don’t know, Sam!”

           “We can see what you said to Cas, idiot,” Sam tells him.

           “Oh… right,” Dean smiles, then frowns, “Wait… how are we even gonna do that?”

           “Leave that to me.”

           Sam holds his hand up, and Dean drops the phone in his hand. Dean gets up and moves to Sam’s side, hovering over him.

           “How’d you even get in?”

           “I knew the passcode.”

           “What was it?”


           “Zero…nine…” Dean’s face scrunches up in confusion, “Wait, isn’t that the day we-“

           “Here it is!” Sam says, “but… it’s not a call.”

           “What is it?” Dean leans in closer.

           “It’s a… voicemail.”

           The brothers look at each other. Sam asks Dean if he should press the button, seeing as how it’ll be Dean’s voice they’ll hear. Dean nods, because he’s just as curious as Sam. Sam presses play.

           “Hey Cas! It’s Dean… I know, it’s Sam’s phone but-uh, he told you I broke mine right? I’m sure he had, too-look, that isn’t important. I just wanted to tell you, before I… before… I-uh, no, no keep it together, Winchester. I… sound crazy, don’t I. I also don’t have another shot of recording this message given… well, I won’t draw out the suspense Cas, I’ve been hit by a curse. Some witch got me and… I’m forgetting. Everything. It’s hitting me in bursts like, one moment I’ll have forgotten how to use a pen and the next I don’t… don’t know my own family. And, well-I just wanted to tell you something before I forget. Something I thought I’d get to tell you in person, maybe after a bit too much to drink and I’m a little less afraid. I don’t know if Sammy and me’ll be able to get out of this one. I don’t even know if I’ll know what I’m in in the next hour. But… I want you to know, even if I forget, that… that I love ya, Cas. Not as a brother and not like a friend but, like, the real deal, Cas. I feel it in here-in my heart-whenever I look into your eyes. And the sad thing is I’m even starting to forget what color they are which-which is crazy because they’re my favorite color and-look, I just I wanted you to know because after everything we’ve been through, you deserve to hear these words before either one of us bites it for the last time. I just… didn’t think it’d be now. …What do you mean I’m almost out of time? Who are you to tell me-“

           The message cuts out after that. Sam takes a quick glance at Dean from the corner of his eye. His brother is frozen, staring at the device slackjawed. There’s a tear near his eye threatening to fall, and Sam can feel Dean’s body shaking.


           He turns, heading in the same direction Castiel went, running after the angel. Sam watches him go.


           Castiel is in his room, lying on his bed. He holds onto the pillow, resting his chin on it as he stares at his blank television screen. He’s just about to turn it on when he hears a banging on his door.

           “Cas!” Dean calls from the other side, “Cas, open up!”

           Castiel does nothing but watch the door with wide eyes. He doesn’t even move, careful not to make a sound and alert the elder Winchester to his presence.

           It doesn’t matter.

           Dean kicks down the door after a few minutes. He walks in, staring at Castiel with something burning in his eyes.

           “Dean!” Castiel yells, shocked, “You kicked down my door! What are you-“

           “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           Castiel’s eyes widen a fraction before they return to normal size. Castiel looks away, fingers playing with the pillow.

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

           “Seriously, Cas?” Dean asks, adrenaline making its way out of his system. He collapses onto the bed, a hand resting on Castiel’s ankle. He rubs his thumb across it. Castiel watches him carefully. They sit like that for a few minutes. Castiel dare not run, because he knew Dean would quickly hold him down.

           “I heard what I said.”


           “Dropped your phone,” Dean chuckles, “by the way, September 18th?”

           “It… means a lot to me.”

           “It means a lot to me, too.”

           “Dean, where are you going with this?”

           “I meant it, y’know.”

           Castiel raises his brows at Dean’s confession. Dean isn’t looking at him, but the flush is fairly visible crawling up Dean’s neck.

           “I thought you said you couldn’t remember?”

           “I did,” Dean says, “but, hearing myself I… it all just came back to me, and… you want to know what I was thinking, when I called you?”

           “I’m surprised you know what you were thinking back then.”

           “I was a little miffed, when I got your voicemail,” Dean chuckles, “but then I started to forget what I was trying to do so I… I focused on your voice. It brought me back. And then, when I was talking, I tried remembering all the little things about you that I… your trench coat, your jokes, how you always look out for me, even when I want to throw you against a wall because of how you do it… your eyes.”

           “I thought you couldn’t remember the color of my eyes?”

           “For a second,” Dean tells him, “but I looked up at the sky, and I remembered.” Dean turns to him, “Cas, don’t think for a second that this spell made me say something I didn’t really feel. When I was trying to hold on to the most important things, when my head was fogging up worse than San Francisco, my love for you was one of the things I kept a tight grip on. I just wish I didn’t end up losing it, s’all, even for a night…”

           “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

           Dean looks up at Castiel to see tears in the angels eyes.

           “Fuck you for calling me,” he continues, “for giving me everything I ever wanted and then ripping it out of my hands.”


           Castiel pushes the pillow away, and moves closer. “The next time you have something to tell me, something important,” he growls, grabbing Dean by the shirt, “don’t wait for the next time your life is in danger.”

           Then he kisses Dean. Dean is surprised, but soon enough melts into the kiss, raising his hands and threading them in Castiel’s hair.

           Castiel turns them around, pushing Dean on his back and straddling him.

           “By the way,” he says, pulling away to give Dean some air, “I love you, too.”


           “Dean? Dean?”

           Sam is walking down the hallway, Castiel’s phone in hand, trying to find Dean.

           “Look, Dean, I know you didn’t want me to hear what I did,” he says, walking closer to Castiel’s door, “but know I still love you, and don’t think any less of you.”

           “Okay, good, do you mind shutting up?”

           Sam startles, turning to Castiel’s open door–and instantly regretting it, turning back with a heavy blush on his face.

           “Dude, seriously?” Sam yells, “you could have closed the door.”

           “Sorry,” Dean giggles, body pressed up against Castiel’s under the covers, “guess I forgot.”

this week is sort of my “spring break” because my doctor’s out, which means i’m taking the week off.  i wrote most of this while roadtripping home with my sister (THIRTEEN HOURS, YO) and overdosing on oreos.  

title: homecoming, pt. 2 (or, death by motion sickness & overbearing mothers)
fandom: hamilton
pairing: tjeff x reader
rating: t
word count: 3518
tagged: @notalwaysfair

You have a high school reunion that you can’t miss, and you’re in need of a boyfriend to keep both your parents and your classmates off your back.  You don’t have a boyfriend — but you do have one very irritating, accommodating coworker.

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Fix You

Reid x reader

When you try your best but you don’t succeed

The house seemed empty, when you woke up in the morning. You stared at the walls of the spare bedroom where you’d slept last night after another blazing row. Your eyes were sore from the tears, they felt like someone has crushed tiny bits of glass and rubbed them into the your eyes during the night.

How many more times were you going to fight? How many more times were going to wonder if you and he had made a huge mistake by getting married?

Slinging the covers back you crept out of the room and down the hall. You needed to get your work clothes out of the bedroom but you didn’t want to wake him. Not yet.

Seeing the door was open, you were surprised. It was still early and he normally slept late when he could. You were even more surprised to see the bed was perfectly made as if it hadn’t been slept in. It was only then that you actually took in the rest of the room. The closets were open and his clothes were missing. You spotted a piece of paper folded on your pillow, sitting down you opened it.


I can’t keep doing this. I think we should separate.

I can’t bear an argument about that either, so I’ve taken my things and I’ve gone to my Mom’s. Please don’t try to contact me, I’ll call you to make arrangements to collect the rest of my stuff and I’ll make contact with a lawyer. Irreconcilable differences should cut it.

I’m sorry.”

When you get what you want, but not what you need.

You were late to work. You almost hadn’t gone in but you needed the distraction.

You spoke to Hotch privately, he needed to know, he was your supervisor after all. He’d offered to push through some leave for you but you’d told him no. Work was all you had right now.

The rest of the team treaded carefully around you, they knew something was wrong. You’d piled on the make up this morning, trying to hide your pale face and chapped lips but nothing could hide how small and piggy like your eyes had become. No amount of eye drops could disguise the blood shot eyes.

There were little touches of your shoulder from the girls , soft sad smiles from Derek and Rossi, and coffee and chocolate placed by your computer when you’d got back from the ladies room, from Reid you presumed. They all knew you and him had been having problems, but none of them asked today. They knew, that you knew that they were there if you wanted to talk.

And maybe you would in a few days. Right now, it was raw. Bitter. You spent the day with your head buried in a file, barely paying attention to anything around you and swallowing back sobs.

Luckily, the team weren’t called away on a case. You weren’t sure you’d have been able to go with them if they had. Your head wouldn’t have been in the game and you’d have been more of a hinderence than a help.

The hours passed by and it was soon finishing time. Too soon.

You didn’t want to go home to an empty house. A house full of memories.

You drove around the streets for hours until it grew dark, finally pulling up outside your house. It no longer looked like home to you. It was just a shell, a container for a life that you would no longer live.

You reached into the back seat of the car and pulled out a blanket you kept there for emergencies, then you walked to the porch sitting in the two seater swing that was hanging in the corner. The swing you’d spent summers lazing in, him bringing you iced tea as you read books, enjoying your time off. You pulled your knees up underneath yourself and wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. It was cold outside but you didn’t care, you didn’t want to go inside.

When you love someone and it goes to waste,
Could it be worse?

Spencer pulled up behind Y/N’s car and surveyed her house. He’d been here a few times for parties and gatherings. He visited less when she married HIM though, he never did like the friendship that Spencer and Y/N had shared.

She’d seemed so sad today at work. Sullen, lost. Spencer had an idea of what might have happened. Normally when they argued, she’d come in ranting and raving about it, but not today. He’d watched her go into Agent Hotchner’s office, not being able to see her face but having a clear view of Aaron’s. He could read his reactions; empathy and compassion flooding their supervisor’s face.

Reid just wanted to check on her, to let her know he was here for her. Just because they didn’t spend the same amount of time together outside of work as they used to when she joined the Bureau seven years ago, only a year after him, it didn’t mean there was anything less to their friendship.

Yet as he walked to the front door, he realised there were no lights on.

But her car was here. He’d called her a few times when he’d got home but she’d not answered the house phone or her cell, which was why he’d decided to drive over.

Where was she?

He knocked a few times, taking out his phone and calling her again. He could hear the sounds of her personalised ring tone for him, the Dr Who theme, coming from the corner of the porch. Turning, Spencer saw her hunched over in the swing that she’d had installed a few years ago.

He made his way to her, seeing her shoulders racking with sobs.

“Y/N?” he spoke softly, crouching to his knees in front of her.

She looked up, her eyes swimming with tears and her breath visible in the cold night air. Spencer reached out to wipe away a tear from his friend’s face, noting how cold her skin was.

“Y/N, it’s freezing out here. Come on… Let’s go inside and get you warmed up.”

She shook her head, her voice creaky when she spoke.

“I can’t… I can’t go in there. It’s empty. So empty,” she started sobbing again and Spencer picked her bag up from the floor and found her house keys. Shrugging his own coat off and around her shoulders, he unlocked her door and went inside.

It took him a while to pack a small suitcase for her, he found one in the hall way closest. When he entered her bedroom and started searching through her wardrobes for clothes he’d seen her wearing at work, his suspicions were confirmed. Her husband’s belongings her no longer there.

When Spencer went into her en suite to chuck toiletries into a bag, there was only one toothbrush in the holder, only one set of shampoo and conditioner on the sides of the tub. And when he went down to the kitchen to search for a bottle of whiskey or something, he was sure he might need tonight to help her sleep, he spotted a gold wedding ring on the side. She’d still been wearing hers at work so it must be his.

Reid’s heart broke for his friend, and he quickly finished packing, locking her door and placing the bags in his trunk.

Going back to Y/N, he reached for her hands and tugged her upright, her complying with very little resistance. He caught his coat before it fell off her shoulders.

“Come on… ” he told her softly.

“No! I’m not going in there….” she shook her head at him and he pulled her towards his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“We’re not going inside. I’m taking you back to mine. I’ve packed you a bag, and I’ll fetch anything else you need. You can stay with me. You don’t have to tell me anything, Y/N. I know….and I’m sorry.”

She sniffed against his chest. “I can’t impose on you Spencer. Your apartment is tiny.”

“Yes you can. For as long as you need to. You’re my friend and I love and care about you. If you’re hurting, then I’m hurting. Let me help in anyway I can.”

Reid heard Y/N swallow deeply, almost as if she was swallowing her pride. She looked at him, meeting his eyes properly for the first time all day.

“Thanks Spencer,” she whispered hoarsely.

Placing his hand on her back, he led her to his car.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try
To fix you

#33 [Seth Rollins]

#33: “Don’t you ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me!” from the list here. (Written in light of Seth’s recent injury.)

I’m fine. Don’t freak out.

Once your brain processed the text message, the adrenaline shot through your veins.

You’d fallen asleep sometime around 9 o’clock on the couch, the TV on, and had just causally checked your phone upon waking up to see the time. It showed 2AM and you thought about how you should go to your actual bed. And then you had opened the waiting text message from your boyfriend.

You hadn’t expected to read what you did.

I’m fine. Don’t freak out.

It was practically taunting you, as you felt like the air was being squeezed out of your body. Sitting up quickly, you barely got your fingers to press on the screen, pulling up his contact, and hitting the small phone icon to call him. All but slapping yourself in the face in your haste, you pushed your cell phone to your ear, hearing it ring. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Nothing. When his voicemail kicked in, you ended the call and tried again. Once. Twice.

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After All This Time - Theo Raeken imagine

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

Summary: Reader is Stiles’ twin sister and a werecoyote having been saved by Scott after they both got into a car accident. She’s a part of Scott’s pack and bffs with Malia. Theo courts her constantly they finally start hanging out end up dating.

Warnings: Season 6 spoilers,angst,fluff,suggested smut  & Idk what else lmao

A/N: Hope You All Enjoy x


I probably looked like a lunatic smiling to myself as I sat quietly in Theo’s truck Theo looked over at me quickly and reached to touch my thigh gently rubbing up and down “thank you for tonight” he smiled looking at the road “no thank you” I giggled. Theo and I just moved to official by having sex back at his house he was now taking me home but it was a very eventful evening he was so kind and patient since this was my first time it made me love him even more.

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