Candy Man

Genre: 50s!AU; Fluff; Humor 

Pairing: Greaser!S. Coups x Black Reader

Warnings:  Lots of profanity; Racism (but nothing too descriptive and no slurs)

Author’s Note: I was listening to early 2000s hits and “Candyman” by Christina Aguilera came on, so this happened. I also recently watched “A Bronx Tale”, even though that’s more 60s, but I digress.  Greaser!S. Coups gives me all the feels.

     “Ayo, Coups!  You mind spottin’ me?,” Mingyu asked, gesturing towards an apple on the produce vendor’s cart.  “I ain’t spottin’ shit; I lent you money last week.”  “Fine,” the younger male snickered, plucking the bright red treat and taking a bite out of it before his superior could tell him to put it back.  

     “You better pay for that, you little thief!,” the elderly owner exclaimed.  “Cool it, Mr. Jung.  We don’t want no trouble,” S. Coups said, clearly amused at the thought of this old man threatening his able-bodied friend.  Taking a coin out of his pocket, he flicked it in the air, making it an easy catch for the gray haired shop keep.  

     “You’re alright, Choi.  Those other ones you hang out with?  Not so much.”  “Eh, what can ‘ya do?,” the black haired boy shrugged with a sly grin before running off to join his friends down the street.  “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!”

     “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!,” Mingyu mocked as S. Coups caught up.  “We don’t want no trouble, Mr. Jung!,” Vernon chimed in with the same tone.  “Shut the fuck up, Dipshits!,” S. Coups laughed.  

     “You should thank him for covering for you. Being a jackass doesn’t get you anywhere or anything,” Wonwoo informed the two younger boys.  “It got me this apple,” Mingyu countered, taking a bite for emphasis.   “And it almost got you a cap in the ass.  I swear Mr. Jung is packin’,” S. Coups said with a nudge to the boy’s side.  

     “Wonwoo with his books and you with your manners think you’re so fucking great, huh?” “Well, I can’t speak for Wonwoo, but my manners are what got me a game of backseat bingo with Hyojin last weekend while you were at home twiddlin’ your dick,” the eldest smirked, causing everyone else to laugh.

     More playfully careless banter was exchanged between the four friends as they approached the bus stop.  “Alright, now if they say anything to you, don’t respond,” S. Coups ordered, upon seeing a few white kids waiting there.  “I ain’t no candyass, Coups,” Vernon muttered.  “Don’t say another fucking thing.  You almost got us killed last time.”

     The four boarded the bus in silence, ignoring the few white kids that made snide comments or spat slurs.  “They’ve run out of original material.  Ain’t that a bite,” Wonwoo said under his breath.  

     “The fuck did you just say?,” one blonde haired boy asked.  “You heard me.”  Before the blonde boy could answer, the bus door opened again and a girl with brown skin and curly hair walked on, clutching a few grocery bags to her chest.  By the time she made it halfway to the back, the four Asian boys had become old news.  Even more people shouted at her while making obscene hand gestures, but she simply kept her eyes on the back window.  

     S. Coups’ eyes followed her from the moment she stepped on until the moment she sat down at the back of the bus.  He scanned over her features before moving down her body, only to be interrupted by a pluck on the head snapping him out of his trance.  

     “What are you looking at?,” Vernon asked.  “Huh? Oh, nothing,” S. Coups replied, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket and unwrapping it.  “You were lookin’ at that black chick, weren’t you?,” Mingyu said, already knowing the answer.  “Maybe so,” he shrugged, popping the candy into his mouth.  

     “You’re keen on a black girl?,” Wonwoo asked.  “My god, guys, she’s black not a fuckin’ leper.  And yeah, I mean…She’s beautiful.  And you guys saw how well she handled that racist bullshit.  She’s classy.”  “The fuck do you know about class?,” Mingyu laughed.  “More than you since I actually go to mine. Like I was saying, she’s-”  “Black.  She’s black, Coups,” Vernon interjected.  “You don’t like it when people judge the way you look, do you?”  “I’m not judging her, I’m just saying you’re asking for trouble.  Mrs. Choi would just about drop dead.”  “Yeah, well you said that when I got my piercings and tattoos, but her heart’s still beatin’ ain’t it?”  

     The bus came to a sharp stop and their topic of discussion arose from her seat and walked towards the front of the bus to leave.  She made swift eye contact with S. Coups, and he swore on his great grandfather’s grave that she smiled at him.  He got up as she passed him and turned to look at his friends, giving them a salute and sideways smile.  “You’re joking,” Mingyu deadpanned.  “Nah, I’ll leave the jokes to you Bozos,” the oldest responded with a laugh before leaving the group.  He gave them a small wave as they rode by him and tossed the stick from his candy on the ground.

     He turned around to find the girl struggling with one of her bags.  Rushing to her side, he used his hand to support the bottom of it, startling her a bit.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.  It just looked like you needed some help,” he smiled.  “…Thanks,” she hesitantly replied. “I can carry one if you want.  They look kind of heavy.”  “Thank you kindly, but I can handle it,” she said defiantly.  Taking another step forward, she tripped over a rock, causing an apple to fall from one of her bags.  S. Coups caught it and placed it back on top.  “You can handle it, huh?” he chuckled.  

    She stopped in her tracks and looked at him almost incredulously.  “Why are you being nice to me?”  “Why wouldn’t I be?”  She simply rolled her eyes with a scoff.  “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not like that.”  She searched his face for any sign of deception or dishonesty and couldn’t seem to find one, so she reluctantly allowed him to help her.  

     “You got a name?,” he asked, walking beside her.  “_____.”  “_____; that’s pretty.  I like it,” he smiled at the way her name rolled off his tongue.  “What’s yours?,” she asked in response.  “Coups.  S. Coups.”  “What kind of name is that?,” she giggled.  “It’s my kind of name.  What, you don’t like it?”  She shook her head, laughing at his mockingly offended expression.  “Well, my real name’s Seungcheol, but let’s keep that between us.  Only you can call me that.”  “Well, don’t I feel special.”  “You should,” he chuckled.

     “Hey, we’ve been walking for a bit. Not that I mind the extra time with you, but why’d you get off the bus so far from your block?”  “Bus doesn’t ride through black neighborhoods.  I ‘spose you ain’t too keen on walking through one, neither?”  “I’m keen on you, so I’d follow you anywhere,” he smirked.  “You ‘bout as slick as that grease you slather your hair in,” she laughed.

     About a block later, she stopped again.  “Well, there’s my place right on that corner.”  “You don’t want me to walk you to your door, do you?”  She paused for a moment before answering, “My mama would kill me if you strolled up to the door.”  “I can’t even be upset, since mine would do the same if she saw you.  It’s because I’m Korean, right?”  “No, she’d say you look like a hoodlum,” she began, gesturing towards his outfit.  “But yours would say the same about me, so I guess we’re even.” “So, what if I wanna see you again?”  “Like when?”  “Like all the time, but we can start with tonight,” he replied with a crooked smile.  She bit her lip in thought and S. Coups took note of how pretty her lips were.  “My mama’s usually in bed by the time the street lights come on”  “Great, I’ll pick you up at eight thirty.”

     _____ sat on her bed, waiting and thinking about all the things that could go wrong.  But just as the list got too long, she remembered that smile of his.  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was eight twenty-five.  She hopped up from her bed and took a look in the mirror, fluffing her hair and applying a coat of lip balm.  Then she quietly made her way downstairs and out the door. 

     S. Coups popped another lollipop out of his mouth to greet her.  “You made it!,” he smiled.  “What, did you think I would punk out?”  “I don’t know, but from what you told me, your mama’s kind of intimidating.  A real ‘no bs’ kinda gal.”  “Well, she is, but she worked a double yesterday, so she’s knocked out.  I wouldn’t chance anything by staying out too late, though.”  “Don’t worry.  I’ll have you home well before she wakes up for her next shift.  Quick question…You afraid of motorcycles?”  

     “Careful, Sweetheart.  You hold me any tighter and I just might propose,” S. Coups laughed.  “I wouldn’t be holding you so tight if you weren’t driving like a bat out of hell,” _____ replied, voice cracking when they hit a speed bump.  “Sorry ‘bout that. I hope your eyes are open, though, since you’re supposed to be giving me directions.”  “Oh, right…,” she muttered, opening her eyes to take a look around.  “Make a left at the next light.”

     After a few more minutes, the vehicle came to a stop in a dimly lit neighborhood.  S. Coups got off the bike, locking it into place before offering a hand to his date.  Normally, she would have declined, but she was still a bit dizzy, so she accepted the gesture.  “Where are we?,” he asked.  “You’ll see,” she smiled, tugging him down a small hill to a slightly worn down building.

     She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone opened an eye level slot.  “Password?,” questioned the pair of dark brown eyes. “SlimJim,” she answered confidently.  The door opened to reveal a black boy around their age.  He smiled at her but gave S. Coups a strange look as she pulled him through the room and down a flight of stairs to what he figured was the basement. The room was packed with black kids, all dancing and having a good time, the jukebox blasting the latest tunes.  A few came to greet _____, and he got a couple stares every now and then, but overall, nobody paid him much attention.  

     Unwrapping a lollipop, he watched in amusement as _____ got pulled to the middle of the dance floor by two of her friends.  She was one hell of a dancer, and quite the social butterfly; he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She made everyone around her smile…even him.  

     “You aren’t gonna stand here all night are you?,” she asked, jogging back over to him during a song change.  “I’m not much of a dancer,” he replied, shifting the candy to one side of his mouth as he leaned against a table.  “That doesn’t matter to me. I brought you here to have fun.”  “I don’t know…,” he trailed off, contemplating whether or not he wanted to embarrass himself.  “C’mon, Candy Man.  It’s just one dance,” she teased, gently tugging on the front of his shirt.  “One dance?”  “That’s all I want.  Besides, I’m sure that’s all you could handle,” she smirked.   “Oh, really?,” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  Crossing her arms, she replied, “Mhm.”  Without breaking eye contact, he slid his leather jacket off and placed it over a chair.  Taking a few steps back, she beckoned to him with her finger, that same playful smirk still gracing her features.

     “So, I was that bad, huh?,” he asked as they walked back up the hill.  “What?  No, of course not.  Why would you think that?”  “Your friends were laughing.  They thought I was a total spaz, didn’t they?”  “…Well, yeah, but they thought you were a cute spaz,” she giggled. “I’ll take it.”

     Noticing a slight chill shake her shoulders, he wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over them.  She simply smiled, knowing it was pointless to try to convince him that she didn’t need it.  “Thanks.”  “Don’t mention it,” he replied, nonchalantly sticking another lollipop into his mouth.  “I swear you always got one of them suckers hangin’ from your mouth.”  “Better than a cig.  I quit a while back” he shrugged.  “Can’t argue with that.  My friend told me kissing a boy who smokes is like kissing an ash tray,” she said, slightly leaning on his bike.  “Oh, really?,” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he stepped closer to her.  “Mhm,” she mused, gently pulling the lollipop out of his mouth.  After looking into her eyes for a moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss.  

     “What did that taste like?,” he asked as he pulled away.  “…Candy,” she smiled.  “What did it taste like to you?”  “Heaven,” he smirked, causing her to laugh and playfully roll her eyes.  “These things must be the reason you do all that sweet talkin’,” she said, holding it out to him.  He plucked it from her fingers and responded, “Maybe so,” before popping it back into his mouth.    

     Realizing that it was getting really late, S. Coups decided to take _____ home.  After a short ride back, he insisted on dropping her off at her door since everyone was asleep, anyway.  

     She took off the jacket and went to hand it to him, but he just raised his hand to stop her.  “Give it back to me on our second date.”  “And what makes you think you’re getting a second date?”  “That kiss,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he watched a blush tint her cheeks. 

     “Well, you have until then to practice your dance moves,” she quickly recovered.  “Will do.  Next weekend; you and me on that dance floor.”  “Will I see you again before that?”  “I’ll be around.  Why, would you miss me?,” he teased.  “No,” she scoffed, folding her arms.  “Well, that’s a shame, ‘cuz I’d miss you,” his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as he spoke. “Sweet as candy; slick as grease,” she chuckled, shaking her head.  “Yeah, but you like it,” he smirked, leaning in again.  “Maybe so,” she quipped, giving him a light peck on the lips.  He released her and said, “I should probably get out of here before the parentals notice I’m still out.  Goodnight, Sweetheart.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out yet another lollipop and held it out to her.  With a grin and a light laugh, she accepted it.  “Goodnight, Candy Man.”

     “So, nothing happened?,” Wonwwo asked.  “Nothing,” S. coups answered, tossing a white stick on the ground.  “Look at that shit-eatin’ grin!  He’s fuckin’ lying!,” Mingyu laughed.  

     The four boys stopped at the produce cart again the next day.  No matter how much poking and prodding his three friends did, they couldn’t get S. Coups to describe his night with his new love interest.  

     “Aye, Mr. Jung!  Can I get one of them roses over there, please?,” he asked the owner.  “Sure can.  For a special lady, I assume?”  The young boy simply winked and tossed a coin to the elderly man.  “Thanks, Mr. Jung,” he said before continuing to walk towards the bus stop.

     “’Nothing happened’ my ass!  Tell us what went down!,” Vernon snickered, pushing his friend’s arm.

     “It’s none of your fuckin’ business,” S. Coups chuckled, pulling another piece of candy from his pocket.

JOKER X READER ; THE OATH. ft. Harley Quinn

Author’s Note; This is actually my first Joker imagine so hopefully it’s up to par with the thoughts you were thinking. I included Harley in this one since you made her presence known in your ask, but I really hope this is what you were looking for. Hope you don’t mind me throwing in a name for her at the end. I tried to make the oath scene DIFFERENT but SIMILAR the way you asked so I HOPE that was up to par too. I kind of made it up as I went along to be honest with you >.< I really need to do more brainstorming before writing. Hope you like it!

   Your eyes scanned over the the meal you were cooking absently as you shifted your weight in an attempt to subdue the upcoming annoyance you were trying your best to control. It wasn’t like you to be so emotional, but the fact that you had completely thrown your life to the wolves in an attempt to please a maniac who didn’t seem to appreciate you set your rage on edge. 

For an entire year you had worked under the Joker like some secretary assistant; fetching food, picking up coffee, cleaning up blood and other unknown substances at his beck and call just because he was too afraid to see you for what you really were; an asset. 

How many security systems had you broken into for him and his hench men? how many bodies had you piled up to prove your loyalty? And how many of his friends and followers had you patched up to save their lives all to prove your usefulness? Well, you were done. No more.

“Fuck it. I’m not gonna keep doing this to myself. If he doesn’t want me to be part of the crew then i’m done. No more favors, no more tests, no more free help. Just fuck it.” You grumbled aloud to yourself before letting a shrug ripple through you. 

Frost had paid you a good amount of money to patch up those gunman the other night, and even more for being available to help them out every now and again, but as of this morning you denied any further payments and refused to answer any of Frost’s or Joker’s phone calls.  

the distant sound of your phone vibrating against the table to the right of you pulled you from your thoughts and a flimsy hand reached for it to examine the name. 

“J” it read simply and instead of declining it, you placed it back on the table and allowed it to ring until it went to voicemail. You weren’t kidding, you were done.

Stirring the wooden spoon over the now fully cooked pasta you had been making, you placed the sauce soaked end of it in your mouth and held it there. Perfect. Pulling the finished product into a near by bowl, you couldn’t help the smile of accomplishment that plastered itself across your lips. How long had it been since you were able to properly prepare a meal for yourself? Your time had been so engulfed in doing the dirty work of mister j and his company that you lost sight of your own simple pleasures. 

The small bounce in your step was nothing compared to the giggle that resonated in the pit of your stomach. For some reason you felt empowered by it all, the idea of standing up for yourself and cutting off the head of your misery in which was also known as mister J. You were a jack of all trades and every skill you had, you offered him. Your hacking skills. Your medical knowledge and supplies. Hell, even your cooking skills, for you made sure no one went hungry. Yet, instead of making you a part of the gang, he kept you at arms length and for what? 

You could feel your frustration growing, but before you allowed it to reach its peak you laughed again. He would not upset you tonight, tonight was your night to yourself to relax and you’d be damned if that was going to be taken away from you. Tonight was dedicated to patching up the gash on your ankle in which you suffered while on a mission for him. Tonight was dedicated to remembering who you were outside the hive of him. Tonight was dedicated to normalcy and that was a fact. 

the darkness of the room was half illuminated by the television and the sound of one of your favorite sitcoms filled the air. F.R.I.E.N.D.S. It had been too long since you were able to fully relax and let loose. The pasta hit your stomach with a heaven that you couldn’t describe and you found yourself slightly dancing around your apartment singing the FRIENDS theme song that you had become so familiar with over the years. You felt as though you resembled a small child the way you radiated excitement, but a distant pounding on your door stopped you in your tracks. 

A glance to the wrist watch around your forearm revealed the time as 2:45AM, who would be knocking on your door at 2:45AM? Could it have been your neighbors complaining about the noise? Although the tv wasn’t really all that loud, they weren’t used to you really being home given your side job as the joker’s, well, what would you be considered? a secretary, a fool, an idiot, a fangirl, what?

you scoffed before pulling the spoon from your lips and peeking out of the peep hole of you apartment door. it was pitch black and you couldn’t tell if someone was covering up the hole or it was just dark as all get out. Instead of taking a chance on it you decided to ignore the knock and return to your spot on the couch. If it was one of your neighbors and you didn’t answer they would just assume you were asleep and come back tomorrow, however, the knocking persisted and you found yourself growing impatient. who the fuck was it, it’s 2 AM. 

Your frame slid over to the door to glance out the peep hole only to see nothing once more, but the voice on the other end alerted you of the identity of the knocker. “Knock, Knock Doc-tor.” the voice instructed sliding through the confines of the door and gripping the back of your spine with a hold so strong you couldn’t move. 

Your body slid against the door to insure it was locked and you attempted to stay as quiet as possible. Your car wasn’t in the parking lot, and there was no possible way he could be sure you were even home. You stood there for a glimmer of a moment listening to the sound of the tv playing in the background and his chuckle was strained. “Come on Doc, knock knock….” he urged once more. Your eyes rolled in annoyance, a knock knock joke, really? Your pearly whites raked over your bottom lip to ensure you kept quiet and his finger removed itself from the peep hole for you to see him clearly. his frame leaned elegantly against the door way but there was a strange limp to him. what was he doing?

His fingers reached to his pocket and the back of his purple and gold phone gleamed against the light of your neighbor’s porch lamp. Your head twisted violently in the direction of the couch and the silent prayer you spoke to yourself in hopes that it was still on silent was answered when the small sound of buzzing hit your ears. Your body tip toed in the direction and you swiftly declined the call with a message. 

“Picking up food at a friend’s. Can’t talk.” you typed back before pressing send. There was another chuckle at the door and you frowned. 

“Clever, but no dice. C’mon doctor……” he answered more irritated than before and the casual knock from before was more aggressive now. A second text was sent to your phone.

‘open the door. you know i hate repeating myself.’ it read. you frowned. 

‘i’m not at home. i leave the tv on for the cat.’ you lied. The knock from before turned into 3 loud bangs against the door before you finally spoke aloud.

“Whaddya want?” you question while folding your arms across your chest and balancing your weight on one leg. 

“That’s not the joke doc. Knock, knock.” he insisted and his breathing was off as if he had just did 7 flights up and down your apartment stairs. You were in no mood, and instead of playing along you simply opened the door. 

“It’s 2AM. I don’t do jokes at 2am. what are you doing here?” you question while the look of aggravation spread across your features like the plague. The look on his face sent a flame through the back of your spine that warned you to back down, but you wouldn’t. Never had anyone from the gang visited your personal home, it was a boundary that you had set from the beginning of time. The simple fact that he crossed that line only infuriated you more. 

Should you really be surprised. The joker knew nothing of valuing someone’s personal space. He’d walk into the bathroom as you pee’d or showered without a second thought while maintaining complete composure. It was nerve shattering. 

An eyebrow tensed as you stared down at his posture, his hand was cupping his side and he was leaning against your door way. Was he injured? 

Frost’s expression was apologetic as he stood behind him, and you knew he had no intention of taking him any where else.

“The hell happened to you?” you questioned folding your arms across your chest an in attempt to hide your concern. “You shouldn’t be here.” You warned while peeking out of the door frame only to hear him laugh.

“I called. When I call, you answer.” He grumbled and your shoulders slid back in offense.

“I ain’t some errand girl, I got other job to do outside of you.” You mocked. Truth be told, most of your clientele backed down when they found out you were working for the joker. Something about not wanting to step on toes and fear of occupying your time when he needed you. He was a selfish creature, the joker, and the idea of someone else using his resources always ended in some form of violence. “Sides….” You trailed off pulling the door closer to you and leaning against it in a gesture to inform him that he wasn’t welcome. “Ya had ample opportunity to lemme in your little crew, and you dissed me. I refunded ya money. Leave me be.” You instructed, but there was a low growl in his demeanor.

“Non-refundable. I pay you, ya work….unless ya want me to break those little money makers of yours.” He threatened glancing down at your hands.

“Then what use would I be? That makes no sense.” You argued only for him to smirk at you in return.

“Ohhhh? I’m good at spottin’ a good thing when I see it, and if I can’t have your expertise then… one can….Now, ya gonna be a good girl and lemme in pumpkin?” he questioned, but before you could actually answer Frost pushed passed you both. He was never one to really stand by and let you two argue, he was an action person and was most likely fully aware that this was going no where.

“What is this, a slumber party?” You asked allowing your arms to stretch out on either side of you as Frost held up his injured boss. He guided him into your living room and proceeded to lean him over the couch.

“He said you could patch him up, and we all know you can. C’mon …..i’ll pay ya double.” Frost pleaded. His eyebrows knitted together into a look that could rival the cage of a thousand puppies crying for assistance and you knew full well that you were faltering long before he even entered your home. Frost was acutely aware that it wasn’t the money that lured you, you genuinely adored him to a degree; he was like a brother to you. Although Mr. J was a sadistic boss, he also had a small place in the back of your mind when it came to his health.

“Patch him up? I’m not some home health care doctor. I can’t keep patching you up every time you get hurt J. You need to go to a hospital, where they’re trained to handle this, with legit medication.”

“Yeah, got it, got it, got it, got it.” He answered in a slight whisper while waving his right hand in your direction as if to dismiss you. His frame slid down to sit on your couch, but you frowned and slightly shoved Frost in his direction.

“Don’t get blood on my couch, put him on the floor or something!” you urged while turning back towards the front door to ensure that it was locked. You couldn’t help the growing aggravation that centered at the forefront of your mind. The entire situation made you uncomfortable because this was your home, your private place of peace and he was invading it with blunt force. You had one boundary, ONE boundary that you didn’t want to be crossed and yet here he was gracefully ignoring your wishes. What or WHO ever had hurt him, could have followed him here and been lead straight to you, and that was the last thing that you wanted. Your business life and personal life was kept separate for obvious reasons, and suddenly the swift collide of the two of them left you slightly disoriented.

“Mr. J, she said….” Frost trailed off while J flashed him a look of utter annoyance.

“I heard her, ain’t deaf.” He grumbled kneeling down onto the small wooden end table that sat in front of the couch. Even in this state he couldn’t follow directions, how unsurprising. It didn’t take you long to retrieve your medical kit and the supplies you were sure you needed to aid him in his injuries. When you returned to the room Frost’s hands were gripping at the joker’s coat in an attempt to help him undress and you instantly frowned.

“Don’t undress him, he’s not staying.” You urged moving over to them both and resting the box a few inches away from his body. His body leaned back slightly and his features were drenched in an expression of disapproval.  

“We got a deal kid, and there ain’t no walkin away. If ya can’t hack it, I can give ya a bullet right now.” He advised putting on a show with his hands and aiming his middle and index finger in your direction. The tips of his fingers grazed your lips before he sounded off an auditory “bang” while pulling the imaginary trigger.

“Still enough energy to talk slick out ya mouth. Good sign. - - I ain’t take an oath with you Mr. J, remember? Ya pay me, I give you services, isn’t that what ya wanted?” You stated in an as-a-matter-a-fact tone. Truth be told you were slightly offended by it. You had done all this work because it gave you purpose, Frost and the other henchmen were like your family, and to reduce you to nothing more than a paid handler instead of making you a hench girl only pissed you off. He didn’t need to blackmail you, he didn’t need to threaten you, you cared for them all, but he was so gung hoe on not trusting any one that he kept you at arm’s length like some errand girl. It wasn’t fair.

“What happened to your leg?” He questioned while tilting his head to the side and you rolled your eyes at the idea of him trying to change the subject. Was he really that dead set against giving you the oath like all his other hench people? What was so fascinating about pushing you away like this? Was it fun? Was it all a game? So much for family. Perhaps you should just accept it, be the cold hearted employee that he yearned for. Stop caring, stop striving to do more just be callous. 

You didn’t answer him. Your attention was no longer on him and instead you focused your mind on patching up his injury, he was shot at. The bullet went through and through but his bleeding was irregular and if she didn’t stop it, he’d surely bleed out onto the floor.

“Get me some towels outta the bathroom, and some alcohol. I gotta stich ya.” You stated bluntly. Opening the small kit next to you, you sharpened your irises on the small needle and thread sitting at the bottom of the right corner. It shouldn’t be hard, stitching was usually the easiest part, getting him to hold still was an entirely different story. There was no numbing agent, but the faster he let you get it done, the less it would hurt.

Frost was timely with the materials. A long towel in hand for the floor, a hand towel within reach for you to wipe away the blood and the alcohol to sterilize. It was time.

Your emotions were rattling you, and the pent of rage you could feel towards his current actions caused you to be slightly unsteady. A deep rooted sense of you was delighted that there was no anesthetic, you wanted him to feel this pain, for it was nowhere in comparison to the pain he had caused you.

His flesh was tender, and throughout the first 3 stitches he was handling the pain well until a constant purring continued to fall from his lips. It radiated through his body and caused your fingers to vibrate against his skin.

“Don’t be a pussy.” You warned trying once again to focus. You stop immediately when you feel his eyes on you and you look up at him only to have it confirmed. You had never seen that look before, it was a mixture of offense and a hint of rage. “Your growling is only making your blood pump faster. If you keep it up, there’ll be too much blood around the stitch for me to continue. My house. My rules. No pussies.” You urged again, firm in your threat. Although he was the infamous Mister J, he was in your house and you wouldn’t stand for disrespect. If he thought this one bullet wound was bad, he’d hate to be the brave soul that chose to face off with you in your house of wonders. Everything, was a weapon.

“Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah….” He trailed off more to himself than to you and in an effort to emphasize your annoyance, you pulled tighter on the stitch. His grumble was audible and his hand reached up to cup your chin in a grip that you were sure would bruise.

“Careful.” He said simply, and with one word you were slightly terrified. All banter aside, you didn’t like that tone; it was drenched in lethal acid and surrounding by cautioned signed duct tape.

The remainder of the stitching didn’t take long and with a borrowed patch, you stuck gauze over the polished stitch and handed him some pain relievers.

“I don’t wanna see you again.” You urged. His head tilted back before returning to the center of his being with a look of patience.

“Don’t you?” He questioned.

“I ain’t a part of your crew, remember. Just a working Jane. Next time if I’m not available, you’ll just have to wait your turn.” You nodded. You were surprised when his eyes rolled off to the side before a smile slid slowly across his lips. It was like you could almost hear the click in his head as he realized your true concerns.

“Ya really wanna know why? I’m a man with a plan Pumpkin and nowhere in it, does it include you.” He answered truthfully while using his hands to motion to himself before finally allowing his right hand to fall down slowly in front of you.

“Jesus, ya act like I’m askin to be your wife or something. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted, everything I’m capable of to help you and the rest of your little family and all you can do is throw money at me and treat me like some errand runner. I’m more than that. I’m valuable, and if you don’t want me around then fuck off. Don’t call me, don’t pay me, don’t drop by my house, just leave me alone if that’s the case.” You answered tossing the money from earlier that week in front of him on the floor.

“Already told ya, ain’t no walkin away Princess.” He warned.

“Then I want in, and I mean really in, not this intern crap you’re givin me. What’re you so goddamn afraid of?  Ya think I’m gonna betray you or disappear? I’ve been runnin with all of you from the beginning, everything you and Harley have needed of me, I’ve done without a problem. Even Frost likes me, Frost!” You answer angrily while motioning your hand in Frost’s direction only for him to shrug in response. “So what is it?”

“Ya want me to truuuuuust you? Give you the keys to the kingdom all because you can complete a few tasks? Uhhhhhh.” He patronized with an ending sound of annoyance before turning his back to you. His right leg inched backwards, tapping the side of the brief case you had just thrown, and sliding it back in your direction. Was he not listening? You did not want the money, you wanted IN. Being an outsider was something you had always been used to especially when it came to your normal life, but you had recently discovered that it was because you weren’t normal and you didn’t want to be. Being a part of Harley’s crew, doing everything you did for your fellow hench community always made you feel like you were a part of something bigger than yourself. You found solace in them, and in return they trusted you, but instead of fully listening to you and giving you what you wanted, Mr. J always found himself sadistic enough to watch you fall apart over the idea of ONCE AGAIN not belonging any where. You had become so alone that you convinced yourself it was your choice, but it wasn’t. You were already half way there but you lacked his blessing, and without HIS blessing, nothing mattered.

Your anger bubbled over, and before you could stop yourself you grabbed the alcohol from the table, poured a few inches onto the brief case and lit it aflame. The small silver plated lighter engraved with your name fell into the fire you had just caused and your chest heaved up and down with the emphasis of your rage. When you were originally recruited you were set to be the doll of Harley Quinn. You were ordered to do her bidding, keep her company, and assist her in any way possible. These tasks were child’s play at first, until you slowly found yourself doing so much more. Aiding the henchmen in heists, thievery, murder, you had offered your soul to him and instead of giving you a firm price, he continued to bid. Well, no more.

His neck rolled around his shoulders while his lips fixed themselves into a hard line. His eyes glanced over to Frost for a glimmer of a moment and Frost instantly removed his jacket and tossed it over the result of your indiscretion. It took a moment for the fire to dissipate, but you were immediately sure that Frost’s jacket was ruined.

Your eyes did not leave the Joker’s frame, even when his irises sharpened so deeply against your that you could have sworn that the fire was still blazing under you. You could swear he had run across the room and shoved you against the wall, but it was only a glamor put forth by your mind because he had not moved. His eyes faltered for a moment to the half burnt money sitting between the two of you before returning to you.

“It takes more than thaaaaaaat.” He scoffed before stepping around the tarnished currency elegantly. His body circled yours as if he were a lion strategically seducing his prey while Frost stood perfectly still in the distance.
“Is that the kinda restraint ya practice in ya daily life, pumpkin pie?” He joked throwing his hands on either side of him and motioning to your life style. He was demeaning you, throwing the casual nickname around to emphasis to you your place, the child, while he, the adult or stature in the room commanded dominancy. You wouldn’t give it to him.

“When ya ready to let that go, come find me.” He bargained with a grumble while flicking the small area between the bottom of your chin and the center of your chest. A small stammer backwards tarnished your posture while he slowly grabbed Frost and exited the room.

The night has passed slowly and you spent most of the day doing trivial tasks that were only meant for the hands. Your mind studied his words as if they would reveal the location of the holy grail if you pried them apart enough, but instead you gathered nothing. What did he want from you? Hadn’t you done everything he’d asked? Everything Harley asked?

When ya ready to let that go, come find me

It repeated in your head like a mantra as you slowly began to realize the double edged meaning behind his words. Your normalcy, your frailty, and everything that made you who you were decorated the halls of your apartment and the empty life you were trying so desperately to hold on to. You had no family, and what little family you did have, you never spoke to. The friends you once had in school, dissipated years ago and you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually seen them. You’d never been in love or been loved so that wasn’t an issue. The crew was all you had, so what in this life were you so desperate to cling to? Were you willing to let it all go?  

Night came quickly and you found your body lifelessly heading in the direction of the pent house associated with Mr. J and Harley Quinn. Why were you headed there? You didn’t even know how to do what he had asked of you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed more.

Your hand rose to knock on the penthouse door only to hear the joker on the other side tell you to come in. How did he even know you were there? A chuckle nearly passed your lips, you designed the security system, the cameras, of course he knew you were there.

You weren’t surprised to see Harley leaning against the large window that took up half the wall of the pent house. The curled dip died pigtails sat elegantly against her shoulders as she flashed you a smile. You had never seen that smile on her face before, it was a mixture of acceptance and mischievousness.

“Whaddya want?” He questioned demanding your focus.

“I….” you trailed off. What did you want?

“If ya don’t know, ya shouldn’t ‘ave come.” He warned while fiddling with the small bar of alcohol in front of him. His back was to you again as he spoke and you didn’t like the idea of not knowing what to do.

“Ya told me to come.” You stated as a matter a factly. He scoffed.

“Yeah…..when ya were ready. Are ya ready?” He questioned finally turning to you and casually leaning against the bar.

“Yeah.” Before you could fix your face to show your seriousness, you heard Harley laugh to your right.

“Get outta here, Kid.” She urged with a sly smile looking off to her right and away from you. Your heart beat quickened and you turned toward Mr. J.

“Ya heard her.” He nodded while tipping the glass in his hand in her direction. They were orders, orders from your bosses that you were taught to uphold and ever so slowly you felt your body tense back towards the door. You should leave, you should get in your car and just leave, but the aggressive voice in the back of your mind stopped you. It mirrored yours but held more stature with your brain. The deep sense of hatred loomed in it and you slowly began to recognize it as the same voice you usually heard when you were killing, stealing, or doing something you felt you had a purpose for. How many long nights, forgotten days, bullet wounds, cuts, scrapes, gashes, bruises, black eyes, internal bleeding, heists, business deals, and drugs had you been involved in? How many times had you risked your life out of sheer obedience and love for the two of them? You are powerful beyond reason and you weren’t just an asset, you were a solider. You knew it. They knew it. And it was about time that everyone else did too.

“No. I ain’t leavin.” You spoke up mirroring the voice in the back of your frame. Mister J’s eyebrow rose while Harley tilted her head in response. “I’m part of this and ya don’t just get to throw me away. I’ve done everything you’ve asked plus more. All your trials, all your initiations, all your stupid tests I’ve passed with flying colors and THIS, this is my decisions. I’m not leaving. I want this.” You answered setting your chin and raising your brow. Harley nodded before flashing a smile towards Mr. J.

“Show her, Puddin.” Harley’s voice echoed in the darkness of the room that was illuminated by nothing more than the mood shining through the window. Mister J’s eyes flickered from her with acceptance while he rested the drink back on to the bar.

“Is that what you want. To embrace us and only us? Will you consign your soul to me and laugh at the world in disgust the way we do?” He questioned sauntering slowly in your direction.

“Yes.” You stated.

“I’ve only asked this of one other, and only one has taken this pledge. Do not take this oath thoughtlessly. Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power. Think carefully now, for once you’ve taken this oath the gates of sanity and normalcy will be forever closed to you, and the self you knew will cease to exist.” He urged, once again invading your personal space and closing the gap between the two of you.

The sound of Harley moving slightly in the distance caught your ears, and the audible lighter in her hands flickered a small flame nearby. She was burning something, most likely out of boredom, but you couldn’t look away from him to see what it was; his eyes were like hypnotic oceans pulling you into a trance you could not escape.

“Yes. I know.” You stated simply.

“In order to be reborn, one must die. Would you die for me?” He questioned seductively.

“Yes.” You responded.

“Would you live for me?” He questioned again and your eyebrows wrinkled. A nod slid through your posture and he shook his head softly.

“Use your words….Say it, Say it, saaaaaaay it.” He demanded placing his hand under your chin.

“Yes.” You answered and suddenly his eyes released you allowing you a second to finally breathe. Harley was by his side now, how long had she been standing so close? Her right arm slid over the back of his shoulders while her left hand handed him a ring. She slid it onto his finger delicately and the center of it caught your attention. The decorated “J” was slightly orange and for a moment you could tell it was glowing, but you assumed it was catching the light of something in the room.

“Then, it’s been a pleasure knowing you ( insert reader’s first and last name here ).” He stated simply while looking down at his hand and refusing to maintain eye contact with you. Your eyebrows knitted together in a hard line of confusion as he finally glanced at you. You were caught off guard by his fingertips against the sides of your neck and the gentle massage of them caused your eyes to flicker in Harley’s direction. What was he doing?

The sliding of his thumbs around the front of your neck gave you insight to his intentions as the burning sensation of his ring digging into your throat caused you to gasp. The grip of his hands around your neck cut off your air supply and stopped you from screaming at the burn resonating on the left side of your throat. Harley’s light show earlier with the lighter was her burning his ring in preparation of this moment, he was branding you, but even after the brand was sure to have taken to your skin his grip did not end.

 Your fingers were steel bars around his wrists, but he did not budge and the lack of oxygen to your frame forced the room to spin. Your frame moved backwards in hopes of colliding with the floor to get him off of you, but instead he only flowed with you. The floor came slowly and after a few seconds you could’t feel anything anymore. There was a heat in your chest that rivaled against the flame filled ring that had already burned his infamous symbol “j” into your neck. It spread throughout your body and left you limp under him. You were dying, why was he killing you? 

His eyes connected with yours and you instantly felt yourself let go of his hands preparing yourself for what you knew was coming. Death. It didn’t take long for him to fade from your view and the sensation of being under water over took you. Your body felt heavy but light. The encompassing darkness was inviting rather than scary, and there was an overwhelming peace to it all. 

Oh infamous Clown of Gotham, you are a magician. Mystically pull me together the same way you have broken me a part. Every day you awoke with the realization that, that day might be the day, but you never knew it would end like this. 

A force of great proportions leveled at your chest and before you could stop yourself you felt your body lunge forward. A gasp of air entered your lungs, but the breath was not yours, it was placed there with the assistance of another. Shallow breaths slide through the base of your lips and the coldness of the room slowly became apparent. With the realization of life hitting your brain, your limbs twitched ever so lightly beneath you and the growing migraine at the base of your skull alerted you that life was restored.  

A peek from behind stubborn lashes revealed Harley’s hands on the base of your chest and Mister J’s lips inches from yours. 

“What should we call her?” Harley questioned looking over at him. 

“More your pet than mine, whaddya think?” He questioned absently with a shrug. Harley’s eyes shifted to the side before returning to you.

“Ava.” She stated simply. 

“Ava?” he questioned.

“It’s old English, means the breath of life.” she nodded. 

“Aren’t you clever.” He muttered. 

Finding Home - Chapter 21 (Sam Drake x Reader)

Tagging: @dragonjedihobbit, @fhujami, @kerripamyupamyu, @unchartedterritoria@random-aya, @sugardaddysully, @emilyackles, @axolotlqueen, @souls-rain, @aaudialeth, @asadhunter, @mirageofthedesert, @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13, @ellana-ravenwood, @itseugenestuff, @shambhalala, @roxxy820, @w0lfpire, @phangirlkelsey, @yenneferofvengerbxrg

❤️ Thank you for everyone who liked/reblogged this story, and big hugs to those who commented, you guys are awesome! ❤️

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16  - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 22

Sorry, but this chapter just HAD to be done!  😀 I suggest you listen to Will Smith - Miami when the song comes on in the fic  😀 The one with the original clip, cause there are versions where the latin american tunes aren’t there.

Neither of you had to work the next day. Sam woke up a little after 8 am, and after his morning routine, he turned on the TV, searched for a music channel, then made his way to the kitchen and started making pancakes for you. He thought back to the day before. He was so happy that he had a job now. He never imagined himself working as a waiter, but he liked it, all he had to do was play nice and the tips were flowing.

The three rich women entered his mind and he grinned. Poor things were totally all over him, and while it felt nice having their attention, especially after so many lonely years in prison (and half a year on the streets), the truth is, he couldn’t care less about them. They were around his age and they all looked pretty, but they had this attitude about them that Sam didn’t like, not when he was younger, and he especially didn’t like it now. 

When he noticed them eyeing him, especially the first woman who came into the shop, he put on his trademark smirk and started flirting with them, hoping they would leave a nice tip. And he wasn’t wrong. He wished they would come often, because their tips would make a great addition to his salary. He can’t wait until payday, he wanted to buy you something to surprise you. He didn’t know what, he just knew he wants to see you smile and look at him in that adorable way, like you always used to when he did something for you.

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BTS (Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin) reaction to someone flirting with you/checking you out in front of them


you would both be coming back from a busy morning together, clutching coffee in your hands as you made your way back to his dorms for quality time. Halfway there, you’d accidentally drop your keys on the pavement in front of you, with a frown, you’d bend down to grab them, and that’s when Jin would hear the whistles coming from behind you the moment you bent over. Turning around, he’d see two older men staring straight at your ass, and his mind would go from calm to enraged so fast. He’d help you up front the ground before turning to face the men who had been hollering at you, walking straight up to them.

“You two old jerks think it’s appropriate to whistle at my girlfriend? That’s disrespectful, her body isn’t here for you to gawk at, how about you worry about getting home to your wives before this gets ugly.” His eyes would be on fire and his fingers would be clenching from inside of his pockets, causing the older men to scramble off. However Jin would continue to stare at them all the way, until he felt your calming hand touch your shoulder. His face would still be hard and angry when he first saw you, but after seeing your soft smile, he wouldn’t be able to not return it. Taking your hand in his, you’d both start back on your walk again.

“Thank you for-”

Jin would cut you off, his hand coming to snake up your waist.

“Don’t thank me, I was just warding off other people’s eyes.” He’d whisper to you, and then he’d squeeze your hip. Both of you finally entering the dorms together, Jin enjoying the view as you walked in front of him, the view that was just for him.

Originally posted by eyehealyou


It would happen at a nice restaurant. After a few long weeks of promotions, namjoon would finally have a free night to spend with the person of his dreams, you. You would be completely dolled up for him, a beautiful red dress adorning your figure as you’d both finish up your dinners, deciding to spend some time in the booth together, fingers intertwined.
After a while though, Namjoon would excuse himself to go use the restroom, leaving you alone and waiting for him patiently.

After a few minutes, Namjoon would come out, shaking his hands free of water as he made a beeline for your table, before stopping in his tracks as he saw the waiter, hovering over you, your face displaying an incredibly uncomfortable look as he leaned in closer by the second. Namjoon would be frozen for a split second; before he’d run up, his fingers curling around the other mans shoulder as he pulled him from your proximity, the waiters eyes bulging at Namjoons presence.

“Sir! Oh you see, this wasn’t it looks like-” he’d try to start, but Namjoon would have none of it, before cutting him off.

“All it looks like to me is you trying to invade my girlfriends space, your lips puckered, trying to lean in for a kiss. But what do I know right?” He’d ask rhetorically, pushing the waiter aside as he’d reach for you in the booth, pulling you out to stand with him and he put his hand protectively over your shoulder, starting to walk away with you.

“And since you seem to like my girlfriend so much,-” he’d call over his shoulder.
“You can pay for our dinner.”

And with that; he’d waltz out with you, leaving the waiter dumbfounded as you both laughed the entire way home, his arm never leaving your waist.

Originally posted by the-rap-man


“how does it sound, y/n?” yoongi would inquire, you’d both be sat down in his studio, as he played a track for you softly, the chorus getting your head to bob slightly.

“Ahh, it’s so good yoongi, I love it.” You’d smile at him, fingers pulling up your knee high socks, his large t shirt flowing over your body. He would beam at you, his bare face looking as smooth as butter as he turned back to play another one for you, before a loud knock interrupted the vibe you both had going.

Yoongi would look up, his eyes portraying annoyance as he spied who was at the door, it was the managers son, and you looked at Yoongi sideways, not expecting to see him.

“He comes from time to time, to, I don’t know, be annoying I guess.” He explained to you, before he would get up, and open the door, not bothering to hide his slight annoyance.

“What? I’m working.” He would deadpan at him, half of his body blocking the doorway so he couldn’t get it. The other boy would look laugh lightly, before craning his neck to peek inside, his wife eyes spottin you nestled into the couch, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You got a friend over, suga?” He loudly whispered, his arm coming up to try and pry yoongi’s from the door, failing miserably.

You would see his body stiffen, his hands balling into fists as he stared at the intruder, him completely oblivious as he opened his mouth to speak to you.

“What’s your name beautiful? Why are you cooped up in here with this guy? Wanna come spend some time with me?”

You’d feel your face contort into one of disgust as you watched his eyes glaze over your figure, and you suddenly wanted to hide. You were going to open your mouth to say something before Yoongi suddenly intervened.

“That’s my girlfriend, jackass. And the next time you look at her like that I’m gonna tell your daddy that you’re still lurking around the studio, and to come collect his little boy.” He would get off the door frame and push the other boy out, his eyes going wide as Yoongi shoved him further. He made eye contact with him one last time, before he slammed the door on his face, and pulled his hat off, sighing and shaking his head while the figures shadow retreated through the glass.

He would turn to you, his eyes going soft once they hit you, to see you playing nervously with the hem of your shirt.

“I’m sorry Jagi, that guy just pisses me off.” He would sigh, coming back to sit down next to you and pulling you into his lap, your previous feelings the guy had made you feel suddenly washed away.

He kissed your forehead, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck.

“Next time anyone comes to the door while we’re in here, I’m not answering it.”

Originally posted by sugagifs

GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

Just in time for the next season, here are my notes for 6.10! I can’t believe I actually did this project. I’ll have the numbers for the season and the series thus far up before season seven premiers, along with my favourite and least favourite seasons (and episodes therein).

6.10 - The Winds of Winter

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I’ve gotten a sudden string of new followers & with it came a couple asks abt commissions opening back up and after the last couple months of disasters n dealin w emotional shit that comes w family death & whatnot, its time 2 open this shit back up 

Stuff thats bein offered RN:

1 Character, simple BG for 25$. The last batch got links to their drawings or were posted up on the artblog, now I’m gunna make it a habit to send people the PDFs to their emails (If you were in a previous batch and would like that, pls contact me, I’ll send it ASAP) - & the file will be yours to do with what ya want.

BUSTS; 15$ 

A bust of whoever/whatever! With a bg if you want. The PDF’ll get emailed to ya too!


Simple comics of whatever ya want, please no more than a page of panels. 15$ for two panels, anything past that (Depending on how complicated stuff is) we can discuss, but panels probably’ll be about 5$ per after the first two. 

Got an OC u want a sheet for?? COOL! I’m also offerin Character Sheets -BUT considerin the time they take,  they’re gunna be limited and starting around 50$ (Theres a couple floatin around my art blarg 4 refs)

If ya have any questions abt what I can/will draw just drop me a line. I’m openin 10 slots right now! 

- All the money I’d get from this is gunna be put towards paying off my dads final expenses, and paying back some ppl for spottin me when I needed it, and rent. 

-Donations/tips are always appreciated and typically get ppl a little somethin extra, whether it be an icon or just a quick little THANKS doodle

- I do work a full time job and a part time job rn, and will keep everyone up to date with where their commission is. The last batch had some unfortunate situations pop up and they had a bit of a wait, but unless someone else decides 2 drop dead within the next couple weeks, things should be aiight.

Signal boostin is always appreciated!