#someone will find you and bring you to a police station or get you a blanket trust me

[moonstruckme]

“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 

i'm so obsessed with this line from one of your recent spencer reid works and i would loooove to see more of this dynamic if you're interested in doing it 💗 maybe more moments of them being soft/whipped for each other and the team noticing it? thank youuu!!

Thank you lovely!

cw: mention of kidnapping (more a backdrop than anything)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words

Spencer really wishes he’d remembered his gloves. The air is biting, fresh powder glistening on the deep green spruces whose boughs stoop under its weight. It’s picturesque, and yet the snowfall couldn’t have come at a worse time. It’s impeded their search party by hours, potentially dooming the kidnapping victim they’re all braving the weather for. Spencer keeps his hands stowed in his coat pockets. 

“Hey.” 

He turns as you and Emily come up behind him. You’re both dressed better than he is, actual winter wear as opposed to the tweed coat he’d worn into the police station that morning. Even so, your cheek and nose are look chilled as you smile at him. You carry a disposable coffee cup in each hand. 

“Hi,” Spencer says, taking the one you extend to him. His numb fingers are grateful for the warmth of it. “I thought you guys were interviewing the uncle?” 

Emily’s shaking her head before he’s finished speaking, mouth pulling in discontent. “That was a dead end. He and his sister have been estranged for years. He doesn’t know anything.” 

A frown tugs at your features as Emily talks but you perk up quickly when you feel your boyfriend’s gaze. “We figured we’d be more helpful here,” you say brightly, “and also that you might want some liquid reinforcement.” 

“Thanks.” He does a little toast with his disposable cup and regrets it immediately, but thankfully you smile. Spencer isn’t sure how he got so lucky; it seems like he can get away with any number of weird things and you’ll find them endearing every time. “There hasn’t been much progress here either. If they left any sort of tracks, the snow covered it up. I’m not…” he lowers his voice, angling his head away from the others in his group. “I’m not sure we’ll find her alive in this.” 

“We’ve still got eight hours,” Emily points out. 

She’s right, he tells himself. There are eight hours left in the forty-eight hour window. But that’s also just a statistic. And as someone whose brain is packed full of statistics, Spencer knows that they’re not always reflective of reality. The eight hours his team has left might be more for hope than anything else. 

Emily drifts ahead of you in the group and you bump your shoulder lightly into his, forcibly derailing his train of thought. He looks over at you. Your lips are tipped up, just a little. Not faking anything, but understanding, a quiet promise that regardless of how today turns out, you’ll be in it together. He finds it easier than expected to return your smile. 

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Your hair curtains your face as you look down, unzipping your jacket to dig something out of the interior pocket. “You left your gloves at the station.” 

“Yes.” You laugh at his eagerness as he takes them from you. “I can’t believe I forgot them, thanks so much for bringing them.” 

“Of course, it was no problem.” Your eyes skim the trees. Spencer suspects that if your face weren’t already so pink it’d be coloring now. “I figured you might need them, so.” 

“You were right.” 

Your gaze flits to his as you grin, then falls to where he has his gloves held bunched with his coffee cup. “Oh, do you want me to take that so you can put them on?” 

“That’d be great,” he says, relieved. 

He holds the cup out to you. You reach for it, but when your fingers brush his in the transfer, you gasp, covering his hand with yours. 

“Spence,” you say softly, remonstrance gentled. “Your hands are freezing!” 

“They’re not as bad as they were before. What are you doing?” 

You’ve taken one of his hands in yours and appear to be inspecting it closely. “Checking if your fingernails are blue.” 

“They’re not,” he laughs, though he lets you finish your perusal until you’re satisfied. “I would know if I had frostbite. I’d be able to identify the symptoms early on.” 

“They’re just so cold,” you fret. “I’ve never felt skin that cold before.” 

The tops of his hands are still freezing, but his palms and the pads his fingers have warmed from the coffee cup. “I’m not sure they’re colder than your face,” he says, pressing his free hand to one of your cheeks. 

Unsurprisingly, your skin is cool to the touch, but you smile warmly as you push your cheek into his palm. 

“Okay, you two,” Emily says without turning around, “less fraternizing on the job. 

You straighten immediately. “We were just—”

“Being cute and coupley?” Uncannily, Morgan appears on Spencer’s other side. He has no idea when his nosiest coworker had drifted back from the front of the group. “We know. But could you save it for the hotel later? Even all the sparks flying off you two can’t melt all this snow, and I want to get out of here sometime before dark.” 

Spencer suspects his face is about as red as yours as he looks down to pull on his gloves. Morgan relishes in it, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you brought pretty boy here a coffee and not me.” He tsks. “I didn’t expect such blatant favoritism from you, sweetheart. I’m disappointed.” 

“I was carrying yours,” Emily says, her tone conveying an eyeroll so effectively she doesn’t need to follow through with the action. She pushes a disposable coffee cup into Morgan’s chest. 

He doesn’t look one bit sheepish as he takes it, though Spencer notices you trying to repress a grin that’s bordering upon smug. 

“This has lipstick on the lid.” 

Emily shrugs. “I finished mine in the car.” 

“So you started on mine?” 

“I sampled.” 

“You’re lucky I exhibit such blatant favoritism,” you say quietly to Spencer under their bickering. “I finished mine in the car too.” 

He raises his eyebrows, and you shake your empty cup as proof. Spencer takes your hand, wrapping it around his coffee cup. “We’ll share.”

[cranberrv]

dating dallas winston headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n : aghhh first post on here!! lowk kind of nervous, but i thought this would be a strong way to start since everyone loves dal <3 i really hope you enjoy lovelies !! requests are open ! ( not proofread btw, ignore any mistakes <3 )

- dating dal is something special, because he doesn’t really do long-term

- so people know that you’re different, a girl he actually wants to keep in his life for a while

- it’s electric, to say the least. it’s hard to keep your hands off each other

- even in a non sexual manner, he finds himself always wanting to touch you in some way

- keep in mind he is much less than a gentleman, forgetting to open doors for you and not bringing you flowers on dates

- but he cares. and that’s something

- small gestures like a hand around your waist or always keeping an eye on you at parties. brushing down a fly away piece of your hair with his hand, making sure he’s on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, to keep you safe.

- that’s how you know he cares about you, not through grand, movie-like gestures

- sometimes he cares a bit too much, getting too overprotective

- some drunk guy talks to you at the bar? he mysteriously leaves with a black eye. and god forbid someone touches you in a manner he doesn’t approve of, someone might be ending up in the hospital.

- you get into arguments about that sort of thing, saying he’s being too dramatic or that you were capable of defending yourself.

- actually, you get into arguments about everything

- he’s usually the one to start them. if he’s in a bad mood, he will find anything to argue about. wether you teased him and he took offence, or you stole his jacket because it was chilly

- he’s defensive and cocky, and will not end an argument until he gets the last word in

- maybe muttering some rude name at you under his breath, or interrupting you until you finally give up

- you should not expect to win any arguments with him and his stubbornness

- he’s not gonna apologize either, unless it’s something really serious, like if he made you cry

- then he’ll ghost you for a few days, then come back and apologize

- other than that, most arguments either end in cuddling or him ghosting you for a week or so

- speaking of cuddling, he only really likes it whenever he’s tired or tipsy. he’ll lazily wrap his arms around you in bed, and keep you there. there’s no way you’re getting up

- rubbing your back with his hand, holding you to his chest, planting kisses on your head are normal occurrences during these peaceful moments

- cuddling him is about as rare as the northern lights, so you take advantage of it

- other than that, most nights end in make-out sessions

- sleepy kisses are his absolute favourite, his lips lazily caressing yours

- he’s always in control, don’t even try

- his big hand holding your head in place, and his other hand holding your waist

- he loves kissing you. everywhere he possibly can. head, lips, cheek, forehead, neck, shoulder, everywhere.

- he loves making out at the drive-in (or more cough cough), it’s so risky and he looooves PDA

- he often takes you to the drive-in or the dingo for dates, nothing fancy

- he always picks you up at your house, he doesn’t wanna meet you there in case you’re first and it looks like he’s late

- the torn leather of the passengers car seat becomes a common place for you to sit, he loves driving around with you

- your parents don’t trust him or his driving, based on the amount of times dates have been cut short because he’s been pulled over and taken to the police station for speeding

- so because of your parents aversion to him, whenever he wants to visit you, he just sneaks into your bedroom

- he thinks he’s being subtle with that, but yet your parents can always smell the cigarette smoke and leather the next day

- in conclusion, dating dallas can be very layered and complicated, but overall, very fun and exhilarating <3

[judeswhore]

my girl; steve harrington

summary: you never expected your first time meeting steve’s parents to go so horrifically wrong

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: steve’s shitty parents, not the best writing i’ve done

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

“you know she isn’t coming in just to rent the breakfast club every week, right?” you eyed steve as he pulled open the car door for you, his hand reaching down to grip yours so he could help you out. his fingers were cold against your skin despite the summer sunshine, his much larger fingers wrapping gently around yours. the tiny promise ring he’d gifted you for your birthday twinkled in the light, steve’s thumb momentarily brushing over it before he pulled you up.

“she doesn’t just rent the breakfast club, sometimes she rents the goonies.” he pushed the car door shut behind you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you shook your head.

“she’s not there for the movies, steve.” you slid your arm around his waist, fingers slipping slightly beneath the material of his shirt to graze over his bare skin. his gaze was light and taunting, a lazy smirk lifting one side of his mouth because he could almost feel the jealousy radiating from you.

kennedy walton had been coming into family video every friday for the past six weeks, almost always renting the breakfast club even after spending half an hour browsing the shelves. steve knew she wasn’t really looking, she spent most of her time eyeing him, twirling her hair and smiling just a little too much whenever he glanced over. steve also knew how much it annoyed you, the other girl almost always just so happened to be there when you met him after your shift at the police station and her high pitched giggles were guaranteed to bring out a scowl from you. on more than one occasion he’d heard you mutter to robin that he “wasn’t even that funny”.

“maybe she’s there for keith, he’s been getting a lot of female attention since he grew that beard.” he’d spun the two of you around, both of his hands now settled on your cheeks to tilt your head up to him, and gently pressed you up against the car. your look was so dry that steve gave a soft snort, lips coming down to smother kisses across your cheeks and nose. “or maybe she comes in just for a few minutes of your charming personality.”

“she likes you and you know it.”

“so?”

“so she comes in to stare at you like a total creeper and flirt. terribly. she’s a terrible flirt.” you were almost pouting, brows drawn together in a dramatic show of irritation but steve could only focus on how adorable you were. on how good it felt to have someone love him so much that it bothered them knowing girls came into the store just to stare at him. his nose bumped yours, his thumb brushing in soft motions across your cheek and he could feel the way you melted into him, one of your hands gripping lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

“she’s not that terrible at flirting.” he teased, unable to hold back his grin when you arched your brows. “and she always compliments my hair. you never compliment my hair anymore.”

“because i’m not trying to get you to fuck me.”

“no?”

“no.” you tilted your head, cocking it slightly to one side and watched steve carefully. “you really think her flirting is good?” this had him snorting again, shaking his head with a quiet laugh, his grin only making you smile despite your tiny feeling of annoyance at kennedy.

“god, no, it’s awful. but you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“i’m not jealous, harrington. i just find her unbearable.” steve only nodded, completely unconvinced and brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes dropping for a few seconds.

“fine, you’re cute when you find people unbearable. but you have nothing to worry about, she can flirt as much as she wants, you’re my girl.” his heart leapt at the smile that slowly spread across your face, heat creeping up your cheeks that he could feel beneath his palms. he bent his neck, head lowering as he pushed you a little further into the side of the car, lips tickling against your own.

“your girl?”

“my girl.” his mouth slotted carefully over yours, lips soft and tasting slightly of sugar and you swallowed a sigh, tugging him closer by his shirt. you knew it was ridiculous to be making out with him practically in the middle of the street but his kisses were addictive and his body was warm against yours, fighting off the slight wind blowing around you. his tongue grazed yours and a soft sound tumbled from your lips, his hand sliding around the back of your neck so he could deepen the kiss.

“steve?”

the sharp sound of mrs harrington’s voice startled you, steve pulling back with a dazed expression, eyes wide and a little bit cloudy. he blinked as if clearing his head and then let his hands fall from your cheeks, his body shifting to face his mother. his posture stiffened almost instantly and you felt half embarrassed as you peaked around his arm, flustered over the fact your first time meeting steve’s mom you’d been seconds away from tugging his clothes off. she looked confused, brows drawn in a stern line while she glanced between you and her son.

“hello, mrs harrington.”

“hello…” she trailed off, expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on your hand wrapped lightly around steve’s forearm.

“y/n. mom, this is the girl i told you about.” mrs harrington still looked clueless and it took her a few seconds before she nodded, a tiny smile appearing on her lips.

“right. of course. well, your father and i were just about to eat, why don’t you join us?” steve fumbled slightly, glancing quickly at you and then back towards the front door, momentarily unsure what to say. in the months you’d been dating you’d never met either of his parents, not because he actively hid you from them but because they were never really around. you knew his relationship with them was strained and you’d told him countless times that he could introduce you to them whenever he was ready and you hated that this had been sprung upon him so abruptly.

but, it was in steve’s nature to people please, especially if those people were his parents, and so he grinned, his head bobbing on a small nod. “yeah, sure.”

you knew steve regretted his answer the second you sat down, his father hadn’t even made it passed a proper introduction before he was mocking his son’s current occupation. he was tense beside you, back almost rigid as his knee bounced, the material of his jeans brushing against your bare leg thanks to how close you’d shuffled towards him. your fingers itched to wrap around his own, the need to comfort him almost overwhelming.

“where is it you work again, y/n?” mr harrington had never been told where you work, it was a question that he hoped would give an answer he could use to belittle steve. you were slow in answering, glancing between the older man and the boy sitting beside you.

“the police station, admin and stuff.”

“that sounds promising. working in an environment like that will look incredible on college applications, i bet you get a real insight into a peoples lives.” you gave a little shrug, feeling more than awkward given the way both adults seemed to be ignoring steve.

“yeah, i guess. my dad’s an officer there so he got me the placement. it’s nothing major, i’m not really allowed to do much.”

“even so, just being around such experienced people, you must learn a lot more than someone scooping ice cream for a living. or rewinding old tapes.” mr harrington snickered and steve’s cheeks turned pink, his head dipping until his hair fell into his eyes. his mother sent you a smile across the table.

“i bet you’ve dealt with a lot of the nut cases around town, huh?”

“well, no, i-”

"see, steve, your girlfriend's job is actually worthwhile to her." mr harrington brushed his wife’s input aside, his attention now fully focused on his son, that haughty expression back in his eyes.

"oh, well, it's not really, i only make people’s-”

"what skills are you learning working in a video store?" his tone was unkind, the look in his eyes just the same and even after having been sat down for no less than ten minutes, you understood why steve spent so much of his time around anyone but his parents. they were cruel with their words, sneering at everything, looking down their noses at him as though he was someone they didn’t really have the time of day for. it made you realise why he enjoyed being around your family, they gave him the appreciation his didn’t.

“it’s teaching me lots of things about the real world.” it was a mumble from steve, his eyes locked on his plate as he pushed the potatoes around on it. unease curled in your stomach because you’d never seen him look so down, the crease between his eyebrows enough to tug a little at your heart.

“the real world.” his father snorted, his mother giving an airy giggle but neither you nor steve reacted. “you know nothing about the real world, son and i’m not sure you ever will. you flunked high school, you couldn’t make it to college and now you’ve been stuck with two dead end jobs. they’re supposed to be weekend jobs, steve, not full time ones.”

“i’m learning how to make my own money, how to pay for my own things.” your foot met steve’s beneath the table, curling around his ankle so you could show him some form of support, too nervous to reach for his hand under his father’s stare. the older man was barely paying attention however, he’d already started on his path to insult steve in any way possible.

“and this constant running around with kids is getting ridiculous. every day you disappear to take them to school, to pick them up, to drop them off at their strange clubs. they have parents for that, it’s not your job.” the room was awfully quiet aside from mr harrington’s voice, everyone had stopped eating, the tension thick and suffocating. “i’m honestly surprised you’ve managed to make a stable relationship, especially with someone who appears to have a head full of ambition. i mean, we all saw what happened with that wheeler girl, that was a train wreck.”

“stop it.” steve’s voice was quiet, a poor attempt at halting his father’s bitter words and like expected, they didn’t work.

“i give it a few months and this one’s gonna get equally as tired of you.”

“excuse me?” your fork clattered against the plate, the glare you sent across the table one of the most harshest ones you could muster but it didn’t seem to deter mr harrington.

“you really want to spend your life with someone who has no aspirations? who’s stuck working a 9 to 5 in a vhs store because he couldn’t even pass algebra?”

“to be fair, mr harrington, i’m not sure it’s your place to be interfering in who i want to spend my life with. and the opinion you’ve formed of your son is completely wrong.” steve’s hand settled over yours on the table, fingers slotting together as he shook his head. he knew what it was like to argue with his father and he didn’t want you on the receiving end of his whiplike words.

“wrong?”

“he works in a video store, so what? at least he’s making money, at least he bothered to find a job instead of just sitting around here waiting for you to notice him. you’re never even around to be able to see what he’s achieving now, high school grades don’t define who he is. and those kids you’re so worried about? ask them how they feel about steve. ask them what he’s done for them, how many times he’s been there when no one else was. jesus, dustin henderson worships the ground he walks on, because he’s amazing. because he’s the kind of person you can turn to when everything’s upside down in the world and you know he can make you feel grounded. you should be proud of who he is, not demanding that he changes just to suit the son you want him to be.” silence followed your words, three pairs of eyes settled on you as you let out a shaky breath, heart pounding because you’d never spoken to an adult like that before, let alone your boyfriends incredibly intimidating father.

“well-”

“i’m not really interested in anything else you have to say. steve deserves a hell of a lot better than what you’re offering.” you pushed your chair back, eyes darting to steve who was watching you with a slightly stunned expression and for a second you were afraid you’d overstepped. afraid you’d wandered into territory you had no business in but then his lips curved into that favourite smile of yours and your heart thumped. before you could get up from the table, mr harrington pushed himself up and without excusing himself disappeared down the hall, his dinner left behind.

there were another few seconds of awkward silence in which steve couldn’t keep his eyes off you before mrs harrington followed her husband, muttering something under her breath about needing a vacation. and then you and steve were alone, a table full of uneaten food surround you. you swallowed thickly, turning to apologise for potentially getting him in trouble but steve got there first, his smile almost blinding.

“i love you.”

“sorry?” you blinked, more than a little surprised.

“i love you. so much. that was-” he shook his head, reaching out to brush his fingers down the side of your face, lightly trailing your jaw. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“i’m your girl, right?” you repeated his earlier words, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he let it gently cup your cheek. his own face was still slightly pink and you didn’t miss the way his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. you placed your hand over it, fingers soft against the fabric of his jeans.

“yeah?”

“so i’m not gonna sit and let your asshole dad talk down about you.” the kiss you leant in to press against his lips was soft but completely full of love, a reassuring pressure that steve wasn’t aware he needed. “i meant everything that i said. your dad doesn’t know you, doesn’t know all the ways you’ve helped saved this stupid town and everyone in it. dustin and the others look up to you so much and yeah sometimes you’re an idiot but it’s what makes you you. i love you, whether you’re working at family video or running your own business, i love you steve, exactly as you are. and so does everyone else.”

you settled another kiss to his mouth, this one slightly longer as you leant against his thigh for leverage and he hummed quietly, his tummy doing odd flips and his heart almost ready to burst from his chest. “i don’t think dustin will like you telling me he loves me.”

“he likes to think he’s all grown up now but he still depends on you. no matter what your parents say steve, you’re important to so many people, it doesn’t matter whether you’re terrible at algebra.” he laughed lightly, nudging his nose against yours.

“i’m honestly not that bad.”

“don’t worry about it, i’m pretty shit too.” you pulled back, brushing your fingers comfortingly through his hair, combing it back off his forehead. he looked tired, completely exhausted from what had to have been the shorter dinner you’d ever attended. “you wanna spend the night at my place? my mom was making apple pie for dessert, if we go now we might get a slice before my brothers eat it all.”

steve nodded and reached out to squeeze your fingers lightly, lifting your hand to his mouth to press a feather light kiss to your palm. “i’d like that.”

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 6 all chapters

TRIGGER WARNINGS - I'm so bad at these, feels kinda redundant in a yandere fic, BUT this chapter mentions violence against women, NOT between u & john.

-It's not two days later that a teenage girl goes missing. The town rises up in a tizzy. Everyone volunteers in search parties in the woods. But deep down, you know they should be looking for a beat-up Dodge van. You tell the police, and they take it down, though you doubt they're taking you seriously. The tip lines always go crazy when something like this happens. They’ll have mountains of information to comb through.

The very next day she appears at the police station, bruised, traumatized, but miraculously alive. A burned-out Dodge van is found later in the woods on the other side of town. The girl can't remember much about how she got free, just that someone saved her. She didn't get a good look at him. It all happened so fast.

The next day, Mr. Wick comes into the coffee house with a nasty scrape on his cheek. His eyes have a hard glint to them, sharp as obsidian. 

Somehow, you just know. 

On your break you slowly lower yourself into the seat across from him. 

He doesn't look up at you. 

“What happened to your face?” you ask quietly. 

“Tree branch.”

He's probably telling the truth, but you know there's more to it. You're not sure what you want to ask. You don't want to out him. You wouldn’t have evidence even if you did. You're glad someone was able to find that poor girl, and whatever happened to those men...good riddance.

You realize you are just sitting there staring at him with your lips parted when finally he lifts his eyes to you. 

You feel utterly pinned by his piercing gaze, and your question about the van and what happened to the guys in it dies on your lips. Even you know it would be stupid to mention it, here. Somehow, you’re still brave enough to ask a different question burning in your mind.

“Before you retired... were you a cop?” 

He snorts a little at that. 

“Hardly.” 

You nod, mostly to yourself. With a house like the one he lives in? Of course he wasn’t.

“Ok.”

You realize, you don’t really want to think on it too hard. It doesn’t matter, anyway.

You stand to go, but he touches your hand, ever so lightly. Still, it’s enough to make you freeze in your tracks. If you had any sense, it would be out of fear.

When it comes to Mr. Wick though, you’re afraid you have no sense.

 “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we good?”

“Yes.”

You answer emphatically and you mean what you say. You listen to the news and probably to too many true crime podcasts, but it’s still easy to forget sometimes in your little town that the world's a big bad place. You're glad there's someone who can balance it out a little bit in the right direction, even if that someone has to go a little bit outside the law. You squeeze his hand, and it seems like that's enough assurance for him.

He goes back to his book, and you go back to work.

Later, you bring him a pastry, the coffee cake you’ve noticed he likes on occasion.

“What’s this for?”

You don’t know why you find the suspicion in his tone endearing.

“For taking care of us,” you answer. It’s hard not to fancy Clear Forks has gained its very own avenging angel in black. Whether he came from Up Above or Down Below doesn’t matter to that girl, and you find, it doesn’t matter to you.

[thecuriousquest]

Can I ask for another mha character (of your choice) with mouth washing punishment? I’ve never seen someone write it aswell as you! And how are u at the moment?? ❤️ x

Dirty Mouth

Platonic Yandere Dad Bakugou x Teen Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, mouth washing with soap, threats of punishments, mentioning of spanking with a switch

Author’s Note: Aw, stop it, you little rascal. You’re making me blush. 😊 I’m doing great over on the East Coast. I hope you’re doing well, and much love to you! 🖤🤘

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

Your “dad”, as he forces you to call him, is busy cooking dinner in the kitchen behind you. You hear him talking about you on the phone to Kirishima, how he’s gushing about your test scores and your good behavior. You’re absolutely fucking sick of it.

Of course you’ve been good! What other choice do you have? It’s either that or be punished by one of the greatest pros in Japan. It makes you sick to your stomach thinking about how he made you cut a switch in the backyard the last time your attitude was “bitchy” as he so graciously put it.

Bakugou brings the conversation to an end, sticking a bowl of ramen in front of you. You have to hand it to the man, he can cook up a storm. However, you’d rather buy the ramen from somewhere than have it given to you by the hand of your captor.

“Thanks,” you tell the blonde while looking at the bowl in front of you.

Fuck, it smells so good, yet you hesitate to dig into the warm deliciousness.

He gruffly sits down at the head of the table before snapping apart a pair of chopsticks. He begins eating.

Katsuki looks at you with a glare when he realizes you haven’t even started.

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t sound happy.

“Did you put something in it?”

He shrugs as if it’s normal to put something in your kid’s food. “Just something to help relax you. You’ve been on edge ever since you got here.”

“I’ve been on edge? I’VE BEEN ON EDGE? Are you shitting me right now? You’re the one who stole me!”

“I didn’t fucking steal you, and don’t talk to me like that! You were at the police station, and I offered them to take you home so that you wouldn’t end up in a fucking orphanage, so lower your goddamn voice and quit acting like I’m some villain!”

“You are a fucking villain! You put drugs in my food to make me fall asleep, and you force me to do homeschooling, and-”

You rack your brain for more things he’s done to you since you’ve been here, but your “dad” cuts you off.

“Yeah, I’m the bad guy for making sure you don’t turn into an insomniac. I’m such a horrible person for making sure your grades stay up. Keep going, sweetie.”

You swipe at the tears forming in your eyes. God, he makes you feel insane and so damned frustrated!

“I fucking hate you!”

You get up from the table and run towards the stairs when a pair of arms wrap around your torso, lifting you off the ground. Adjusting you in his hold, he tucks you under one arm, snugly against his hip. Your eyes widen as you find yourself looking at the floor.

“Put me down! I don’t like this!”

You cling onto his baggy pants for security. He could let you go at any moment, and you don’t like the thought of landing harshly on your knees if he does.

You hear a door open, and then the large man turns on his heel as he closes it. The familiarity of what’s happening comes rushing back to you, and you try to shut it all out as you are set on your feet.

“I’m too old to be treated like this, Bakugou!” you shout as you clench your fists.

“Shut up, kid. You’re fifteen, and you know better than to call me that. You know better than to cuss at me too.”

He rummages around in the cabinet for your doom. He pulls out something that’s just as bad as the paddle end of a wooden brush: the dreaded bar of soap. The explosion hero gets the bar of soap all sudsy under the running faucet. He shuts off the water and brings the bar up to your lips, and you clamp your mouth shut.

“You wanna do this the hard way?”

Your eyes can only speak for you, and you hope the fear you express in them is enough to sway him.

All he does is grimace at you, his lips set in a firm line. He snatches your jaw, thumb digging into your right cheek while the other four fingers press into your left. The pressure where the line of your teeth meet only grows stronger as you attempt to keep your mouth closed.

However, you know him well enough by now. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants. He never does.

Your sharp cry sounds akin to a beagle’s as he finally pries your mouth open wide enough to shove the soap in. You gag instantaneously at the clean taste of the bar.

Trying to fight against the bulk of muscles leads you nowhere, except being forced to sit on the toilet lid. To your horror, this isn’t even the worst of it. He begins scrubbing the inside of your mouth, washing away all of the filth you’ve been spewing. What a fucking hypocrite.

The bar of soap shreds against your teeth with all of the scrubbing, curling and melting on your tongue. The accumulation of saliva and soap turns into built up foam, causing it to leak from your mouth.

“Lift your tongue up. Do it or I’ll beat your ass.”

No, no more punishment, you try to say. It comes out in a gurgled, incomprehensible mess.

Your “dad” works the bar of soap underneath your tongue. He covers every inch and corner of the cavern. You feel like you’re going to throw up with the amount of gagging you’re going through, but you know that he’ll really kick your ass if you do that.

Your body slumps in defeat, knowing that you can’t get away from him as he holds the back of your neck in a firm grip. There’s nothing you can do to fight him off or get away from him, so you sit there and wail like a six year old with tears, snot, and soap dripping down your face.

With your head pounding from all of the crying and screaming, he finally releases you and tells you to rinse your mouth out.

“You’re lucky I’m not making you finish dinner with your mouth as it is. I could send you to bed like that too you know.”

As tough as he likes to make himself out to be, you know he’d never do that to you. Under all of that macho male bravado, there is a heart, even if it is a little twisted.

Still, you can’t help but feel distraught as you struggle to rid your mouth of the lingering taste. It’s as if every ounce of water you take in causes the amount of bubbles to rise. Eventually, you do spit out the last of the soap, but that clean, funky tang stays with you.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“But, it won’t go away!”

“You arguing with me?” he inquires as he quirks a blonde eyebrow.

“No, sir.”

Handing you a towel, you dry your face and pout from not being able to get rid of the overwhelming taste. Looking up at the pro hero with watery eyes, you rub your runny nose with the towel.

He leans against the doorjamb with crossed arms. “Got anything to say to me?”

“I’m sorry…Dad.” You know better than to call him anything else in this moment.

His smirk is one of satisfaction as he stands up straight, bringing you into his arms. You lean your head against his chest, holding onto his shirt for comfort.

He might have won this battle, but the war isn’t over yet.

[lesinquietes]

Summary: You’re trying to recover from what happened, but it’s hard to forget; especially when you know he’ll be back for you one day. Your commutes home have never been so stressful.

Mean!Yandere!Shigaraki x Bimbo!Reader

⚠️ mdni. a splash of horror. dark content. degradation. exhibitionism. fingering. incel. misogyny. noncon. sexism. thoughts of death and dying. victim-blaming. voyeurism. yandere.

Previous l

You go straight to the cops upon fleeing from Shigaraki. You understand why he let you escape when the officers stifle chuckles. You don’t have anything but your word to support the bold accusation that the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front is trying to rape you. Saying it aloud sounds more ridiculous than the way it echoes in your thoughts.

You check the forum. Crumbleking’s post was deleted days ago. The account he used is gone, too. Your Instagram yielded similar results.

At the very least, they believe that someone entered your apartment and assaulted you. His identity being Tomura Shigaraki is highly contested. They send someone over to investigate your home. Much to your chagrin, the officer returns with a clean report. According to his examination, nothing in the space was disturbed. There was no sign of a break and enter.

It’s funny. When you stumbled towards the window, desperate for safety, you recall knocking over a table and shattering the vase. If nothing was disturbed, did your assailant clean up the mess…?

You ration that he had to have, and your heart almost stops. He’s ballsy for that one. You suppose he’s confident in his plan to enact revenge on you. He considers himself invincible, and he damn well might be. But everyone has a weakness.

You’re not stupid enough to think this is over. You aren’t keen to relax now that you’ve alerted the authorities. Will the cops who laughed at you rush to your aid when he inevitably returns for a second try? Doubtful. You’re responsible for protecting yourself.

You submit a police report anyway. They don’t include a name for the suspect because they don’t buy your allegation. It’s enough to simply have the document on file.

You don’t return to your apartment that evening — at least, not by yourself. You explain what happened to a friend. She lives in a beautiful, isolated rural area, about an hour out of town; nevertheless, upon hearing your bad news she drives all the way to pick you up at the station. A stoic, shivering mess, she works to reassure you. Nothing works. Nothing is helpful. She takes you back to her house after grabbing some essentials at your place.

Entering your space felt foreign and uncomfortable. You found yourself jumping at the slightest creak. Nothing was familiar. And you were correct about the vase — someone cleaned it up.

The days following your attack involve negotiating a lease break with your landlord. Fortunately, you’ve lived here long enough to establish a solid rapport with him. He keeps your deposit for last month’s rent and permits you to leave by the end of the week. You do so discreetly.

Gradually, you transport your essentials into your car. On the last day of your lease, you hire movers to bring your larger furniture to a storage unit. You promise your friend it’ll only be for a few weeks, and you mean that — for her sake. Although she comprehends the risks, she still agreed to help you; nonetheless, you don’t believe she’ll be spared if Shigaraki discovers your location.

You quit your job. A new one isn’t difficult to find. It’s in a different city. If all goes well, you figure you’ll move into a nearby apartment and lay low.

The next week or so is quiet. You maintain awareness of your surroundings but nothing happens. It’s as though he’s biding his time… or maybe witnessing you walking on eggshells is precisely what he wants.

Shigaraki is a busy man. He doesn’t have the energy to spend haunting you, a civilian who once talked shit about him online. There are bigger fish to fry. According to him, he gets enough women at home, anyway. It’s likely that you’ll never see him again.

Oh, you poor, naive woman; so willing to believe the logical lies your nervous brain feeds you.

It’s six o’clock in the evening, two weeks after your encounter with the dust villain. You stand on the subway terminal and glare down the tracks. There are a few other people there with you. No one you recognize.

To get to your friend’s residence, you have to take the 2216 train to the very end, walk for fifteen minutes, and catch the bus. It’s a dreadful commute. You’re saving up to buy a used car. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the time vampirism that comes with sneaking around.

Five minutes into your gruelling wait, the train squeals into the terminal, dim yellow lights flickering as it grinds to a jittery halt. Its doors jerk open with a soft ding. You enter the cabin. As usual, it’s crowded at this time of night. Everyone else is commuting home, too. They get on at the station right before yours, taking up all the seats and more than half the standing space.

You walk down a bit and stand between two men conversing with seated passengers. There’s a group of stylish women next to you, chattering eagerly about their evening plans, and a few scattered friends on the opposite side, dazed and distracted after a long work day. It’s compact, but not uncomfortable yet.

Your hand dips into your pocket. When your fingers don’t find what they’re looking for, you grimace. No earbuds. Great. You must have forgotten them at work.

The train stops at another terminal. More people shuffle on board. The trip commences.

You close your eyes and meditate. Honing in on your breathing, you feel the air entering and leaving your lungs. The sensation is serene. You sigh gingerly as the background noise lessens a bit. Sadly, your peace doesn’t last for long.

Something swipes across your butt. Your spine grows rigid. Accidents happen on packed subways, but that? That didn’t feel like a mistake. You hold your breath as you wait, positive your assailant will make a second move. He doesn’t keep you in suspense for long.

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly. You gasp. A swift, gloved hand covers your mouth. The textured fabric is rough against your skin.

“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”

Your assailant’s familiar, raspy voice sends a chill through your entire body. Without a doubt, Tomura Shigaraki is behind you. You were a fool to believe he was gone for good. He had to return, didn’t he? If only to put you in your place.

“If you overreact, I’ll dust this entire cabin.” He warns. “Let me do what I want, and maybe you’ll get to leave alive.”

Why wouldn’t he kill you and everyone on this train? It’s not like you’re special. Once you’re dead, he’ll simply find another person to harass. And the people around you? No one significant. He’d probably garner a lot of attention if he committed mass murder.

But all the same, it’s impossible for you to understand the sick feelings he harbours for you in his heart, and the way they grow every time he sees you. It isn’t love. It isn’t lust. It’s a sensation that’s incomprehensibly sinister in its somber nature; a volatile melange of emotions that frightens even him. You have no idea the lengths he would go to for the sake of preserving your life; he’s not finished toying with you yet.

He releases your ass and uncovers your mouth. Securing a palm firmly to your hip, he slithers his other hand up your skirt. Slipping your panties aside, he finds your clit. His index fingers massages slow circles over your twitching nub, eliciting a delicious exhale.

He dreamed of this moment for weeks. He fantasized about bearing claim to you in public, where anyone can watch. He’s about to be the God of this world, isn’t he? He can do as he pleases, and to hell with the consequences. When he possesses rule, he’ll have you cockwarm him on his throne all day long. By that time, you’ll surely know your place beneath his muddy boot.

He teases the lips of your cunt with his sharp fingernail, gliding it gently over the edge of your small hole. He pinches your thigh when you attempt to press your legs together. He won’t let you deny him entry to what’s his.

“I’m wearing gloves that cancel out my quirk.” He mutters darkly. “But if you don’t cooperate, I’ll take them off and activate it right here.”

He twists your clit between his thumb and index finger. The horrifying thoughts causes a stray tear to drip down your cheek. You don’t want to imagine how that would feel.

“Sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I-I will.”

Picking up the tone of your voice, the man next to you turns around. Shigaraki removes his hand from beneath your skirt and wraps both arms around your waist. He lifts a brow when the stranger acknowledges both of you. To him, it looks like you’re a couple commuting home together. He has no concept of what’s truly going on; that if you don’t obey, him, and everyone else on this train, will die. Ignorant, he smiles and returns to his trivial conversation.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” The villain growls viciously. “Second strike, whore.”

You understand that the third strike will be your last.

You glance over your shoulder. He’s wearing a black face mask to match a large, baggy sweater. Crimson irises leer at you menacingly. He has his hood pulled over a head of shaggy, unkempt hair. It’s no wonder he hasn’t been recognized; his signature traits — like the hand covering his face, or his pastel tresses — are hidden from sight.

Just as you’re drinking in his appearance, he’s basking in yours. You look even better than the photos you put up on your social media account. He managed to save a few before you deleted it. He stares at them when he’s fucking his hand to the notion of capturing and taming you. He cums the hardest to porn where women are nothing more than brain dead sex slaves; that’s what he envisions for you.

Of course, submissive bitches aren’t born obedient; they need to be whipped into shape. He thinks the fight you put up is the best part about the training process. When you’re unruly, it forces him to be crueller. He wonders when you’ll pick up on that. It doesn’t have to hurt if you simply comply.

As much as he’s intrigued to witness you up close, he’s pissed at you for wearing a skirt today. Don’t you know the meaning of decency? Anyone could have molested you on the train. It’s practically a cultural norm for cute women to get harassed during their commute. He’s going to teach your pussy who it belongs to. Then, next time you go to work m, you might think twice before wearing a garment that’s easy access.

You face forward, when he grasps your shoulders. Slowly, his hands slide down to your hands, stopping to give them an affectionate squeeze, in case there are curious voyeurs. He wants to make this look as organic as possible.

From behind, he lifts up your skirt and pulls your panties aside. The fabric bites into your flesh, no doubt giving you a rash on the crease of your crotch. He’s careless with his motions; this is all about him. Discomfort is a sensation you should become dearly acquainted with.

“Did you miss me?”

You bite your lower lip when his digits discover your clit. Your back arches as they map out the nub, teasing your hooded flesh to see what your pussy needs to drip. It doesn’t take much. You can’t distract yourself from his touches. There’s nothing stimulating; merely the backs of strangers who couldn’t save you if they tried.

Inwardly, you sob. You have no control. Even your own body is betraying you.

He dips a finger between your folds and hums when he discovers how wet you are. Running the length of his index finger along your clit, he snickers. He knew you were in denial. You must want him. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to admit your desire by the end of your trip back to the Deika City.

“Feels like it.”

You frantically scope the sea of people. You’re between several, so you think you’re clear from view; then, you catch the eye of an older businessman. He’s staring directly at your crotch, where Shigaraki’s fingers are massaging your puffy clit. You bite the inside of your cheek. He knows what’s going on. You bet he’s been enjoying the show. You can’t count on a pig like him to save you.

You repress a sob, utterly humiliated. You haven’t felt this degraded in your life. You’re being groped by Japan’s most notorious villain while a lustful stranger observes.

“I bet you thought you got away from me, didn’t you?” He snarls. “Thought I’d forgotten about you.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit it. You fell right into his trap. Somehow, he knew you would lower your guard after a while. It’s precisely when you set it down completely that he struck. You’re either extremely predictable or he has incredible intuition.

He removes his hand from your underwear and brings it around to your chest. You feel your juices coat your skin and shudder. You can’t believe your body got wet for this disgusting motherfucker.

His nasty fingers claw at the buttons of your blouse. One of them pops off. It shoots diagonal, striking one of the windows. A passenger picks it up and glances around. You lock eyes with her. Instantly, she notices what’s going on. Unlike the businessman from earlier, however, you know she has the intention to act. It sparks a flame of hope in your heart.

A few men shift and shroud her from view. It’s probably for the best. Shigaraki’s digits locate your nipple soon after, dipping beneath your bra to pinch the responsive flesh. You stifle a shriek when his plucking becomes too much.

“I’m going to take you back with me and tie you up in the middle of our courtyard,” he whispers hoarsely, voice dripping with desire. “I’m sure some of our soldiers could use a bit of stress relief.”

You gag. You’ll die abused, beaten, starved, and dehydrated — a prisoner of war because you mouthed off on the Internet. This is so stupid.

Your captor groans softly as he withdraws his hand from your breast and slides a lithe finger past your folds, sheathing it up to his knuckle. He can tell it hurts. Your pain makes him enjoy it more. You stiffen and bite your lower lip.

The vehicle jolts to a halt again. The system announces that this is Jolicoeur Station, the second last stop on the line. That means you’re nearly there. He hums approvingly when the doors shut.

“Time’s almost up, whore.”

You don’t know what the fuck that means. Is he going to kill you or bring you to his base? Only time will tell, you suppose. For now, you want his sharp fingernail away from your cervix. You wriggle, praying he’ll at least stop jiggling it around. It isn’t long until he does, though he makes it clear he withdrew if his own volition; he can’t have you thinking you have a modicum of power over him, can he?

He’ll treat you like you’re nothing — a lifetime of serving him will drill that into your pretty head. He’ll never let you understand your real worth again when you’re under his brutal care. Beneath his boot is where you’ll remain.

The train lunges to another ungrateful stop. Your heart drops. This is it — the end of the line. Shigaraki touches you with both hands from behind, drumming his clothed fingers atop your shoulders.

“When the doors open, walk.” He instructs you. “We’ll pretend we’re a couple.”

You want to throw up. He’s forcing you to act like his lover after playing with you against your will. You’ll be damned if you go down without a fight. If you see an opening to ditch him, you’re going to take it; to hell with considering the consequences of being caught a third time.

He smooths your clothes out from how he rumpled them. He figures it’ll seem more natural if you appear relatively put together. He fixes your blouse and then moved to your skirt. To onlookers, it’s probably cute — a boyfriend tending to his girlfriend. They have no idea about the undertones of his treatment.

As if on cue, the woman from earlier coaxes your gaze back to hers. She licks her lips and reaches for the emergency switch. Your mouth opens. You know what she’s trying to do. It’s perfect. He won’t expect it because he thinks he’s in the clear.

You nod once. She takes that as your signal to proceed m. With a visible grunt, she yanks the switch down. Reprieve floods your chest as soon as you hear the alarm.

You have to go.

Now.

The doors of the train freeze. In a panic, everyone races out of the car. You follow suit. The second you sense his grip slacken, you bolt. As you scurry off the car, you feel Shigaraki’s greedy hand reach for you — gloveless. You scream. Your voice blends in with the rest of the cacophony, shielding you from unwanted attention.

You glance over your shoulder. Everything around you slows down. He’s standing in the sea of people, still and glaring. His hood is pulled down and his mask is hanging off one ear. His scarred lips are contorted in a grimace.

For a brief moment, an understanding is met. Today, both of you learned that the other is not to be underestimated. After this little stunt, you’re his main priority. He hopes you’re prepared to take this game just as seriously, because he won’t stop pursuing you unless he’s killed. And he knows that won’t happen anytime soon.

You turn away from him and finish your flight. Like last time, he permits you to escape. He stays glued in place until nearly everyone else has left the terminal; then, he departs.

You have no idea the demons you’ve awakened inside him.

—

Suggestions for kinks to write in the next parts are welcome :)

[mvltisstuff]

hello again!! im the anon who requested sweet nothing (also, saw the edit note and don’t worry it was a fantastic fic and i love it, thank you so much for writing it ❤️) i was wondering if i could request another fic for buck where reader is like athena’s protege and she’s a lot like athena so athena and bobby basically play match maker for them, thinking they’d compliment each other very well but buck and the reader have secretly dating since they met bc they hit it off so well and athena and the 118 end up finding out and are shocked they had no idea. thank you if you get to this, no stress if you don’t. i hope you have a lovely day and remember to take breaks and drink water!!

the feels - e.b

summary: above :)

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i love seeing these requests so much, please leave as many as you want, this one is so sweet 🫶🫶 i wanted to recreate the funny scene when may walked in on athena in bobby’s turnout 😭

the grants were sitting in the kitchen waiting for another delicious meal from bobby to be ready to eat. athena was sitting down, playing a card game with her two children as bobby was stirring a boiling pot. sharing stories about their days, athena begins her own.

“the station welcomed a new recruit today,” athena starts while cleaning up the cards. “i think i was telling you about her.”

“y/n? i remember you told me she was going to be working there, i just didn’t know she’d be with you.”

“she’s not riding along with me, but we’ve spoken a lot. she reminds me of myself. she’s young but one of the most determined ones i’ve seen. i think she has a lot of great potential.”

“maybe you should bring her along one day,” bobby suggests. “she sounds cool, you should bring her to the station one night for dinner there.”

“i’ll have to check her schedule. she’s trying to get more comfortable in LA, so that could help her. give her some friends,” athena says. “i know she came here to get away for a bit, i’m not sure why but i think something at home.”

“might wanna be careful bringing her, now that i’m thinking about it.”

“what makes you say that?” she asks.

“i’m worried someone might take a liking to her. buck loves you, and he reminds me of myself. and if she’s really similar to you…” athena walks over to bobby, giving him a light kiss before beginning again. “i’ll see what her timing is, i’ll let you know so you can tame the lion.”

the next day at work, y/n walks in uniform with her chunky belt with her gear. she sweetly says good morning to the people at the front with a cup of coffee before returning to her bosses office. “y/n?” she hears someone say from behind her.

“sergeant grant! hello, i was just about to go get started,” y/n says politely to her superior.

“you can call me athena, officer.”

“ok, athena,” y/n has a bright smile that could be the source of light to the room. “is there anything i can do for you?”

“no, you’re all set. just making sure things are good for you here,” athena knows that she’s strong despite the kindness act she puts on. she’s seen she’s not afraid to stand up for herself against all the men at the station. similar to herself, she’s ready for anything god throws at her. “if you get off earlier tonight, i was going to the 118. my husband is bobby nash, and he’s having dinner. i thought it would be a good place for you to settle in.”

“that sounds great, athena. i get off a bit earlier today.”

“good,” athena says with a thin grin. “i’ll see you then, y/l/n.”

they both walk away, going to do their paperwork and jobs of the day. on the first call, they had to deal with a specific threat, making two arrests as y/n shoved them back into the car.

she had easily clicked into her workplace, impressing everyone with her skill and ease with the job. her quick thinking came in extreme need, and athena knew she was going to be one of the best eventually.

after another call, the fire department had been at a site of a crash with drunk driving robbers. the police had been called to observe the suspects and ask them questions about the accident and even before that. after some of the crash on the street was cleaned up, y/n had been on the side, informing dispatch on the current nature of the situation. she was hanging around near one of the trucks when a man, couldn’t have been over 30, walked over to her.

“hey,” he says with a seducing smile, looking her uniform up and down. “i haven’t seen you around yet.”

“i’ve just started working here, i was a cop before but i recently moved here.”

“you liking it? LA can be a lot,” he tells her. “i’m evan buckley, 118. buck.”

y/n smiles and shakes his hand. “you’re from 118? athena and bobby invited me over for dinner tonight.”

“y-you’re y/n?” buck asks, a little surprised. she’s gorgeous, her hair was done back in neat braids. her uniform complemented her well, making her look like a boss, but also looks sweet with her bright smile and laugh. buck noticed her beauty and grace in handling herself.

athena and bobby stood to the side, meeting up at the end of the shift. “i think it’s too late,” bobby says, pointing to y/n and buck flirting very clearly to everyone but themselves. athena would never admit it, but she was actually happy. she thought buck needed woman like her, and she needed one like buck, and after a whole night of convincing each other before bed, they finally decided to take up a new career in match making.

the dinner had gone well, the team asking y/n about her past and why she wanted to become a cop. someone in particular was mesmerized by her stories. “so, y/n, where did you grow up?” eddie asks.

“i was raised in boston, and i went to suffolk for criminal justice,” y/n says. “i knew i wanted to help people, and i came to LA as an escape honestly. just try something new.”

they all nod and smile as they finish their food, laughing about shared stories and the two spend the night eyeing each other.

a couple months had gone by, and buck and y/n had been better close. very close. they were seeing each other almost every day, meeting up outside work to see each other. for being a bad liar, buck was hiding their relationship very well. they started dating a few weeks after the dinner, and no one had any idea. or at least they thought.

buck was definitely head over heels for y/n. she was a person who dominated wherever she was, but carried herself around with respect and a soothing personality. coming home from work, she was always a person to talk to. her sweet and gentle words were always a comfort to him. he thought she was the most lovely person ever.

y/n was obsessed with buck after she met him. he was incredibly charming, being able to light up a room at any time. being able to spend time with him at the end of their shifts was truly the highlight of her day, and she hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. he helped her get settled in the new city that she was venturing. he was always a shoulder to lean on during the bad days, and one to celebrate with after the good ones.

chimney and maddie had been driving over to bucks apartment. they had all agreed to have dinner together so she could spend time with her little brother.

buck on the other hand, had been too preoccupied to remember the plans.

y/n was dressed in a lace bra and panties set, wearing bucks work shirt with his name and badge on it. she was sitting on top of the counter with buck standing between her legs.

when chimney and maddie walked in, they saw bucks bare back, and both of their half-naked bodies. luckily, buck still had his boxers on, and y/n had his shirt. her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, a pair of handcuffs in her hands. “oh my god! evan!” maddie shouted and buck turned around.

“jesus, maddie!” he yelled and his immediate instinct was to cover up y/n. “what are you doing here?”

“some of us had dinner plans,” chimney adds, watching in a humorous way.

“you had dinner plans?” y/n asks.

buck throws his head back in frustration. “im sorry, guys, i completely forgot.”

“clearly.” maddie and chim say, together. “we’re going to go in the hall, give you a minute. while i call bobb-“ chim starts.

“no! do not call bobby because then he and athena will hate me!”

“i think athena would fire me,” y/n says.

“are you kidding? they’ve been trying to force you two together for months!”

y/n and buck give each other a confused look because they both thought they’d want them separate. surely, they weren’t stopping it but they especially didn’t think they would encourage it. they start laughing at each other hysterically at the thought of their superiors trying to get them hooked up. maddie and chimney exit in a hurry, leaving to the hallway.

“well, wanna continue?” buck asks and y/n gives him a questioning look.

“we have like 2 minutes, babe,” she smiles. “i don’t know if we have time.”

“you doubting me?” he says, leaning back in and kissing her again.

“prove me wrong, then,” she smirks and they spend their few minutes not wasting a second.

“bobby! sorry to bother you tonight, but you’re gonna want to hear this!” chim says after calling the captain.

bobby hangs up the phone, and is sitting next to the athena on their couch. athena hears the whole conversation. “i’ll quit my job if you quit yours, and we can start our own business.”

“agreed,” athena says, giving bobby a high-five at their dating app skills. “i will say i’m surprised they kept it a secret. she did seem a bit more upbeat though.”

“so what’s next? getting them engaged?”

“ok, woah. let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. we’ll give ‘em a bit i guess.”

“fine, but i’m getting every detail about this tomorrow from him.”

“i’ll get it from y/n, we will reconvene after a short recess.”

[littlenightma]

John Carver/Eric Newlon Relationship Headcanons

Author’s Note: I just finished Thanksgiving (2023) and have now adopted a new killer. Enjoy.

Warnings: Spoilers for the Thanksgiving (2023) movie

• He’s paranoid that you’ll leave him for someone else. Amanda was going to leave Bobby for him. What would stop you from doing the same? No amount of reassurance will ever ease the doubt. It won’t stop the glances he takes when you smile at a text that isn’t his or when he subtly pulls you back by your belt hoops when another man is closer than he likes. All you can really do is be there by his side no matter what.

• No matter what.

• Forbids you from Black Friday shopping unless you do it online and it must be delivered to the house. You don’t want to know what would happen if he ever came upon you in one of the stores. With so much commotion happening, no one would blink an eye in your direction if he dragged you out the store by your shirt collar and pushed you into the back of his police cruiser.

• He’s also possessive, but he’s never too aggressive with you. He won’t raise his voice unless he needs to (like finding out you disobeyed his order to stay in the house on Black Friday). Won’t ask you to not hang with your friends or get upset when you wear revealing clothing, but expect to be ambushed when you come home. He’s not going to keep his hands off you. You smell too much like other people, like the outside world, when you need to smell like him.

• Pouts. A lot. Like I said, he doesn’t voice his disapproval often. He doesn’t want to dampen your happiness with his sour mood, but it isn’t hard to tell when something is bothering him when he suddenly becomes withdrawn. You’re going to have to pester him until he finally says what’s on his mind and appreciates when you try to find a middle ground for him. He adores your considerate nature so very much.

• Would give up his life for you in a heartbeat. He protects people everyday. It was his job to do so. What is expected of him. But for you? He’d bring the whole world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. You’ve resurrected the light he thought he’s lost, banished the darkness and hatred he’s held for months. There was an extra umph to his step when he left for work and a new sparkle in his eye when he kissed you before leaving bed to make breakfast.

• He dares anyone to come and disrupt this newfound peace.

• Loves when you stop by the station to drop off a surprise lunch. Loves it even more if you’re both able to enjoy each other’s company while you eat. All the guys say he’s lucky to have someone like you. He couldn’t be any luckier. Couldn’t be more thankful.

• When the time comes when the leaves change color and the air becomes cooler, you carefully bring up Thanksgiving dinner and what you plan to cook. He leans into his hand, smiling softly toward your attentiveness to his reaction and says it sounds wonderful.

• And when you bring up where you would do with any extra food, he chuckles and slyly winks at you, “Don’t worry, baby. There won’t be any leftovers for us to deal with once I’m through.”

[rafa-jaja]

Asking for your help...(pt2)

Bruce Wayne x Gn reader

You never thought you'd see Wayne Manor again, but here you are...standing in front of the front door, debating whether to knock or not. But before you could decide the door opened, it was Alfre.

- Please, I ask you to come in, we don't want you to get sick from being outside too long in this weather.

- Hello Alfred, you haven't changed a bit.

- Compliment me, wait here please.

You wanted to talk more with Alfred, but you knew that's not why you were here, the truth is you didn't know what you were doing in this place. Every inch of the property brings back bittersweet memories.

Right now you could be in the comfort of your own home, enjoying a nice cup of tea with your cat as your faithful companion. But no, you had to do what Constantin's note said.

Suddenly something knocked you to the floor, it was Tim, he had grown so much since the last time you saw him.

- You're back! you don't know how much I missed you," he said hugging you tightly.

- Tim...I appreciate your love, but your crushing me.

- Sorry, I was really looking forward to seeing you again, how have you been?

You were about to answer him when someone caught your attention, it was Bruce, the bastard hadn't changed a bit. You got up from the floor and faced him.

- I'm going to make something clear, I'm not here for you, I only came because a friend asked me to.

- Understood...while you are in the mansion I would like you to see something.

You simply nodded and followed him to the Batcave, it was the same as the last time you were here. Bruce was looking for something in his files when someone appeared out of the shadows, you didn't know him, but you guessed who he was...he was Bruce's biological son, you had to admit it, he was almost an identical copy of Bruce.

- And who are you? Another super useless one that is going to try to help us?

Yes, he's the same even in sarcasm, but you can't blame him...it's not his fault that his prominent genes are from his paternal side.

- Damian, behave yourself...I'm sorry he didn't mean to be rude.

- Don't worry, I'm not affected by sarcasm.

- Ok...I wanted you to see this, it's the surveillance videos from the bombing a few weeks ago.

On the big computer there were different videos of Talia and her henchmen destroying police stations and attacking civilians, this is one of the many reasons why you withdrew, seeing innocent people suffer always made your heart clench in your chest.

You quickly deduced what this was all about, it seems Bruce and the league have not been able to discover what the target of these attacks is, they attack without any pattern, their next target could be a company or a school.

- We were unable to capture Talia, and she has shown no signs of what her plan is...we have one of her henchmen in custody, and I wanted to ask you to do me a favor-

- To read his mind and figure out the plan, you don't have to repeat everything, just take me to him and let me see what I can do. But I'm only going to do this once, as a favor to the league, nothing more.

When they arrived, some Super who were old companions greeted you, others looked at you with surprise, you knew what they were thinking, you had returned after years. But you only do this to get Bruce off your back and finally have a normal life.

They sat the man down in front of you, without delay you entered his mind, you were surprised to see that there was nothing...he literally had no thoughts of his own, he was like a shell of bones and flesh that followed orders, he had no control or conscience, not even a sense of right or wrong.

- He hasn't spoken since he was caught? - You asked the guard present.

- Nothing, not even a whisper or a threat.

You left the room and went to the conference room.

- Did you finish quickly, did anything happen, did you find out anything useful?

- That man has nothing... he's like a dummy.

Those present were surprised, they couldn't believe what you were telling them.

- A dummy? You're telling me that this man destroyed an entire building...he's a puppet controlled by Talia?

- Yes, I'm afraid there is no information that would be of any help with your case...well, with that said I'm leaving, I've done what you asked me to do, so I hope you will leave me alone from here on out.

No one objected, but the desperation on their faces was evident. When you arrived at your house you expected to finally be able to rest, but great was your surprise to see Constantin sitting in your living room.

- Not that I mind you being in my house, but at least you could call me.

- You know I like to be spontaneous, I like to have the surprise factor.

You let out a little laugh, Constantin is your best friend, he has been with you through thick and thin and has helped you fight your inner demons.

- So? what do you want to do? I don't have any alcohol at the moment.

- The truth is I just wanted to spend some time with you, I know these last few weeks haven't been the best.

- Ok...you want to watch a bad demon movie for a laugh?

- You read my mind.

It was all laughs that afternoon for the two of you, but elsewhere, specifically at Wayne Manor there was someone thinking about you.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Can Bruce put his thoughts about you in order? Does Talia have a macabre plan? Will you have to face your demons again or overcome your past?

Part Three?

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Time & the Trickster"   A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

by ijuststareatstuffhereok89

Chapter 1: A Birthday Surprise

After getting a call from your mischievous brother asking you to bail him out of jail (again), you meet a curious man who claims to be from another reality. But getting him home from jail is just the beginning of your woes.

CHAPTER WARNING: none

Previous Chapter (Prologue) - Next Chapter MASTERLIST

He didn’t know it was possible before now, but Loki’s headache was even worse as he came to again, immediately finding himself in a new, startling situation. 

Loki lay on his back, spread-eagled on a frigid concrete floor. The hot-pink fleece throw was laid strategically over his privates (as if it did anything!). The ceiling was the same bland hue as the floor, but the shadow of a wall of steel bars fell over his face, complicating the view. Two of the four walls of this cold room were made of bars. The other two consisted of solid rock, littered with graffiti and etchings.

It was a prison cell.

“Of all the nerve!” Loki muttered bitterly, sitting up as quickly as his migraine would allow. “What am I doing here? Guard? Soldier?” 

“Hey, what’s your story?” 

A diminutive man with tanned skin and wearing a baggy black muscle shirt underneath a denim jacket four sizes too large, sat on the only bench in the cell. In his panic, Loki hadn’t realized that he wasn’t alone.

“Where am I?” Loki asked for what had to have been the hundredth time that night. “Please, just answer me.”

His cellmate shrugged. “They brought you in already knocked out, huh?”

“I…suppose they did, yes.”

“You’re in the tank, the police station off Clinton Square. You’ll be out once you call someone and make bail.” 

“I…I have no one to make bail for me,” Loki said sadly, rubbing his forehead. “At least I don’t think so. I’m beginning to get the feeling I’m alone on this plane.”

The man looked sympathetic. “Maybe when my sister gets here she’ll get you out too. You just got into a street fight. Can’t be more than fifty or a hundred bucks for you.” 

“Sister?” Loki asked. 

“She always says its the last time she’ll have my back, but when you’re all the other one has, I guess that’s always up for negotiation,” the man reasoned. He got up and removed his large denim jacket, laying it over Loki, who gratefully laid it over his lap. “What can I say? I love a good bar scrap!” 

He stuck his hand out at Loki, who paused before taking it. “I’m Joey, by the way.” 

“I’m Loki, pleasure to meet you,” he mumbled. 

Joey snickered and rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay, I was gonna bring it up, but you already know how much you look like him, but maybe you still have vodka on the brain. The cops here won’t buy the ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here’ thing, you know. Trust me, I’ve shared a cell with Hugh Grant, Barack Obama, two Jesus Christs and a Chris Evans.”

“Look, Joey, I really am, I mean, I need to find someone--”

“--Just keep your head down, bro. I bet my sis will be here any minute with her wallet full of freedom.” 

It always rained on your birthday. Every single year.

Here it was, ten o’clock at night, and you weren’t even at the bar with your friends or trying to pick up a date. Instead, you were angrily running down the wet sidewalk that ran parallel to Clinton Square, holding an umbrella that did fuck-all to keep you dry in the downpour, on your way to bail your little brother out of the drunk tank. Again. 

There was a reason everyone who knew your family called him ‘Jailbird Joey.’ It seemed like his run-ins with the beat cops in towns were becoming more frequent with the years putting distance between you and your parents’ untimely deaths. Granted, he was never run in for any charge worse than public intoxication, but it was still an embarrassment. You were hoping that he would’ve given you a break for your damn birthday, though. 

If he weren’t your only family, and if he weren’t really just a diamond in the rough, you would’ve thrown him out of your apartment by now. Sometimes, you thought if he could just get out of the city and see more of the world, perhaps he’d find something to motivate him to set a goal or explore a new life path. 

As if, you sneered to yourself, walking up the steps of the police station. Nothing ever changes.

It was such a typical event for Joey to call you for bail that the receptionist at the front desk of the precinct nodded and mouthed your name while listening to whoever was engaging her on the phone. You were getting to know everyone at the station so well, at least one of the cops was thinking of inviting you to his daughter’s bat mitzvah.

“Hey Martha,” you sighed. “Can I go back?”

She nodded silently and pointed to the right, down a long white hallway. You walked right down, not even bothering to sign in like you should have. 

You reached a second desk near a heavy, locked steel door. A familiar face, large and red, greeted you with a knowing nod. 

“How much for him today, Jim?” you asked, as if you were asking for a cut of beef instead of your brother’s freedom. 

“For both of ‘em...two-hundred.”

“Both?” you asked. “I’m sorry?”

“Joey said you’d spot his new pal, Naked Jake,” said the cop, shrugging casually.

“Oh come on, Jim, it’s my birthday, can’t you cut me a deal? I didn’t ask for--”

“--sorry, judge sets bail,” he said harshly. 

“Well, I’ll pay his, but as for his mooch friend, he can rot,” you said angrily, digging into your wallet and throwing down a hundred dollar bill. “Not sure where he got the idea that I’m made of money, anyway.”

“Very well,” Jim mumbled, prodding a large red button with his index finger. After a loud buzz that made your brain vibrate, the heavy iron door behind Jim opened, letting you through. As you went through the doorway, he called down over your shoulder: “Hey Curly, Y/N’s back, but just for the one!” 

Another guard further down the long hallway of barred cells and heavy doors shouted back in affirmation, “Thanks! Hey, Y/N, they’re down here!” 

Your feet walked in tempo to the bitter, annoyed rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ you were sarcastically humming as you approached the cell.

Joey was sitting with his legs folded and back straight against the wall. Next to him, his lap covered with Joey’s jacket and a fluffy pink throw across his shoulders as if it did something to keep him from being affected by the chilly air in the room. He was otherwise naked, and was instantly recognizable to you. 

“Whu…what the hell?” was all you were able to say, your eyes glued to the naked stranger next to you. “Is that….no…Joey, explain!” you continued babbling. “What is Tom-fucking!-Hiddleston doing in a jail cell in Syracuse New York with my dingus brother? IN THE BUFF??”

“Who?” asked the naked man. 

Joey shrugged and mouthed rather indiscreetly, “He’s tweaking.” 

You were a naturally jittery person, and the building anxiety about seeing your jailbird brother being chummy with one of the most dignified, prolific actors on the planet was already making you confused and flustered (as well as sweaty). “WHAT? I…Joey…” 

“He, uh…” Joey got up and met you at the bars for more privacy. “He thinks he’s actually Loki, and he seems really torn up about it.” 

“Where did you find him?” you asked. “Was he just waltzing around Armory Square reciting a Hamlet monologue? Or..?”

“He was here when I got brought in.”

You leaned to the side to get a better look at the guy. Strange, his hair was dyed and styled in the way he typically wore it when he played the role, but nothing indicated any Loki-centric projects were in production at the moment (you knew, you kept up). “He’s not…dangerous, is he?”

“Sis, think about it,” Joey reasoned, “He’s HOW famous? He does something weird, it’s all over Page Six in the morning, right?”

“...yes? And your point?” You blinked, twisting your lip with skepticism. 

Joey made an impatient gesture with his palm. “So, maybe we rescue him and get some kind of compensation and finally pay off all our debts--”

“Compensation?!” 

The strange naked man hopped to his feet, ignoring that the jacket and blanket fell to the floor. You jumped back reflexively as he stumbled forward at the bars, Even Joey had to scramble aside. “I can offer you anything if you help me get back. Anything!” He sounded desperate. 

“N….no…” you said, still nervous. 

“Sis! C’mon!” 

“Miss--”

“--Y/N--”

“Miss Y/N, I promise you, I really am who I say I am, and once I can offer you proof, I shall,” he said, trying somewhat successfully to lower his voice into a calmer one. “If you can get me back to the TVA, I can reward you handsomely.” 

“What’s that?”

“Time Variance Authority,” the naked prisoner explained to you, though it all came across as gibberish. “I think I’ve been separated from my friends in a time of dire crisis. The Timelines are fraying!”

You looked at Joey and raised an eyebrow, and he responded with an identical gesture (it was the ‘family brow’, you and your brother could speak volumes with your eye expressions alone).

“Sure they are, Captain Amnesiac,” you quipped. “Joey, I’m not spending my last hundred on this looney toon no matter how famous he is.” 

“Look,” Loki managed to grab your hand through the bars. It was surprisingly warm, or perhaps his natural body heat only stood out in contrast to the cool air around you. For whatever reason, you felt your shivering skin still. Your heart slowed. Was he casting some spell on you? Or were you just flattered that such a famous, rich actor would be so bold as to touch your commoner’s flesh?

It was his eyes more than anything that spoke the truth to you. They were both desperately pleading and hopeful, large and blue. They were a bit bigger than all of the photos and films you’d seen him in, and you didn’t quite expect his jaw to be so sharp. 

There was something else about the man that was more humble than you’d expect from Tom Hiddleston or anyone in his class. The actor was dapper, polished and refined from decades in the business. You knew this without ever meeting the man; his poise was always evident in every interview he gave. Meanwhile, the man before you had been through some real shit in recent days…perhaps even recent hours. The hair wasn’t shiny but greasy and disheveled. He needed a decent meal and a twelve-hour deep sleep. He needed clothes. He needed a hug. 

And suddenly, light a bolt out of the blue, you believed him. 

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” you asked quietly. “Until we figure out what your deal is?”

He looked at you hopefully. “No, but I won’t be any trouble if you’d give me somewhere tonight while I figure out what to do, please!”

You rolled your eyes at Joey. “Oh yeah, no trouble at all. That’s so Loki!” you snarked, pulling your hand carefully out of Loki’s grip. 

“Yes, it IS Loki! I swear it,” said the prisoner. “Why do you doubt me?”

“I…uh…oh god, he’s so far gone, Joey!” you couldn’t help but remark. 

“I know, but mind if we hurry it up? I’m late for work,” he answered. 

“LATE FOR WORK?” you suddenly barked, causing even Loki to jump, startled. “What do you mean late for work??” It’s ten at night! What were you doing three hours before work that got you in here?!”

“Fighting.”

You looked horrified. Loki looked almost amused in spite of the circumstances. 

“Where the hell were you fighting?!” you asked, taking on a maternal tone as you scolded your baby brother. 

Joey looked down and shuffled his foot with exaggerated sheepishness. “...at work.” 

The rain was only coming down harder as the three of you left the station twenty minutes later, after Joey and Loki signed their release forms. Half the precinct had been invited in to witness what, to them, looked like a very famous man wearing holey castoffs from the station’s lost and found bin, signing a release form after being booked for public intoxication. 

You opened your umbrella just as a cab pulled up in front of the precinct’s stoop. “That’s my ride, sis!” 

“Joey, I’m kicking your ass when you get home,” you warned. 

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Maybe our new friend can do it for you,” he whispered mockingly in your ear. “He’s kinda hot, you know…”

“Joey!” You giggled and stepped back, glad for the small bit of tension-relief before Joey took off for his bartending shift. One thing you promised one another after your parents died was that you would never go your separate ways angry, even if one of you was only going to the mailbox. 

You waited until Joey drove off in the taxi before firmly grasping Loki’s arm. “Alright, it’s a bit of a hike back to our place. Can you at least walk in a straight line?”

“I assure you, Miss, I’m not drunk,” Loki said slowly, looking you in the eyes again without blinking, as if he could drill the skepticism out of you if he stared hard enough. 

Joey was right. The stranger was handsome. He looked disheveled and silly, not an ounce of dignity on his person in that moment. Even so, the wear and tear of his life before now added a layer of something to his countenance you couldn’t put your finger on. You were always a girl attracted to experienced men. 

Back off, girl, you told yourself. If he’s really Tom Hiddleston, he’s not available. That was the way of it, though. No one that well turned out had the right to be single. 

“Let’s just go before we drown out here,” you said, bitter and tired, wishing you could just go to sleep and forget the miserable birthday you’d just had. 

Loki was much taller than you, so he took the umbrella while you pushed the pedestrian walkway button on the corner. Unfortunately, as you walked out of the downtown area, the rain only got heavier. 

You and your brother lived in Little Italy on the north side, above a small pizza shop that always reeked of greasy pepperoni and whatever else was left under the heat lamps for too long. Even in the dead of night, the red ambience of neglected neon signs from the windows downstairs leaked up into your bedroom. It was a twenty-minute walk from the precinct on a sunny summer afternoon. By the time you and Loki made it to the back entrance of the apartment, it was nearly 11:30pm. 

“You live inside of a restaurant?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “Not what you’re used to, I expect. But that's all I’ve got for you tonight.” 

“Then it will do splendidly.” The rich, low baritone in his natural voice was beginning to grow on you. It was lovely and steady when it wasn’t begging you for bail money. 

Both of you were both strung out and exhausted, so you kept the tour of the tiny one-bedroom flat brief, showing Loki that you had the single bedroom to yourself. Joey slept on a ratty recliner in the walk-in closet off the main room. 

Your room was small and cluttered with the things you enjoyed: half-completed knitting projects, several bookcases both free-standing and mounted on the wall, figuring from your favorite action films, and sketches of different characters you admired. Underneath piles of folded-but-still-loose laundry (which you unceremoniously shoved into a corner), your futon sat, unfolded and unmade. 

“It’s strange,” you said out loud, a thought occurring to you suddenly. “Maybe there is something to all this.”

Another being came to mind: one that couldn’t initially avoid the rounds of memes, press, and social media posts when he was first spotted. Granted, by all accounts he’d practically leapt on top of everyone he met when he’d arrived, but the situations seemed a little too similar to you to ignore. Perhaps it was something to bring up in the morning after Joey got home. 

“What makes you say that?” asked Loki, sitting on the futon. 

“You…you’re not the first man to claim he’s a fictional character who came to life in recent weeks, you know,” you said. 

Loki went oddly pale (which was saying much, considering how pallid he always was). “Oh?”

“A crazy guy in London says he’s…you know what?” you stopped short, observing just how worn out your new charge appeared. If he was truly who he said he was, perhaps this news would be too much for him at present.  “Never mind. I can explain it more in the morning. You don’t seem up for it right now.”

“But--”

You leaned down, taking a risk in lightly laying your index finger over his moving lips, stilling them with a “shh! I mean it. I’m only letting you stay here if you can behave, ok?”

“Are you scolding me like a boy?” Loki asked, sitting up straight and knitting his brows, taking a defensive position.

You looked away, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I get like that sometimes. I had to grow up kind of young.”

He relaxed. “Oh?”

Nodding, you indicated around you. “Our parents owned this building, and the shop downstairs. They were killed in a plane crash. Joey and I survived it. I was fifteen and he was eleven.” 

Loki bit his lip. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. 

“Our aunt owned it for a bit, but she sold it before retiring,” you continued to exposit. “Luckily, she was smart and had it in the lease agreement that whoever takes ownership of the restaurant had to let us stay in this apartment at a fixed rent.” 

“How wise of her,” said Loki with a touch of pity.

“Yeah, but even fixed rent is rent to be paid, y’know?” you sighed, looking around you at your tiny room. “Anyway, let’s not worry about it now. I want to see what you’re like after you’ve slept a bit.” 

“There’s no time,” he growled in protest. “Reality is collapsing!”’

“Well, if it does, at least I won’t have work tomorrow,” you chuckled, forcing the first smile out of Loki that you’d seen. Even his teeth seemed a little too perfect for a human’s mouth. 

Meanwhile, there was something to your own jokes and openness to sharing your story that brought his guard down piece by piece. You had a similar cadence to Mobius, only perhaps a bit more dynamic. You carried yourself similarly, painted your words with the same sarcasm. Yet you also carried an extra layer of matronly authority that didn’t quite suit your youthful years. Loki would never admit that he was slightly aroused when you’d shushed him with your finger just now. Now was not the time for that nonsense anyway. 

“Now, go to bed if you can,” you said, getting up. “I don’t have work until two tomorrow, so I should be here. If I’m not, Joey will be.” 

Loki leaned back against the pillow, finally beginning to relax in your presence. “May I ask what your occupation is? Out of curiosity?”

You smiled. What an inane question, given the scenario you found yourselves in. “I work in a bookstore, up at a small locally-owned place in Liverpool. That’s the village at the north end of the lake.” 

He smiled a little wider. You felt warmer. “Somehow, though we’ve just met, I feel that suits you perfectly.” 

You shifted your stance awkwardly. “I guess it does. Or, at least it has for the past five years. Goodnight, um….Loki.” Saying the name felt like an admission of belief, and it made you feel weird to say it.

For his part, Loki was finally settling in and accepting the situation at hand, and that nothing could be done about it before morning. “Pleasant dreams, Y/N…and thank you.” 

“No problem.”

You turned out the lamp by the door. Before leaving the room, you quickly thought of something. On your way out, as you walked by your bookcase, you quickly swiped a ten-inch figurine of Loki in full battle armor, poised to strike with scepter in hand, off the top shelf, praying that he didn’t notice it as you quickly shut the door behind you. 

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[amphibiahawks321]

Night time'

[CriminalM!Reader walks down an alleyway]

BANG💥

M!Reader : AAH!

[A gun was shot next to him]

CriminalM!Reader : What the flour!

Rye cookie : don't move a muscle sweetie....

CriminalM!Reader : I haven't done anything!

Rye cookie : heard from a little birdie that someone stole a couple of jewelry from a saloon a couple blocks down they also put a bounty reward to who can find the perpetrator....

CriminalM!Reader : So!

Rye cookie : And I just know my favourite criminal had something to do with it....

CriminalM!Reader : you have any idea how many thieves this town has? And you think out of all of them you think I did it?

Rye cookie : .....

CriminalM!Reader : .....

Rye cookie : hands up

[Y/N cookie raises both of his arms]'

Rye cookie : ya can run all ya like, but ya know I ain't stopping till I hunt you down...

[Rye cookie walked up to him and checked both of his pockets]

Rye cookie : Huh... Would ya look at that...

CriminalM!Reader : Gosh darn it!

[Pulls out 11 jewelleries out of his left pocket]'

Rye cookie : Waitin til it's night time huh~?

CriminalM!Reader : pfft! Where are you gonna put me sheriff~? The police station is closed

[Rye cookie put both of her dual pistols back to the holders and let out a chuckle]

CriminalM!Reader : What are you-

[Rye cookie grabs his cuffed hands and pins it next to the wall]

CriminalM!Reader : .....

CriminalM!Reader blushing : W-what are you...

Rye cookie : Ya didn't think I forgot our last encounter did ya sweetheart~?

CriminalM!Reader blushing : Y-your seriously bringing that up....

Rye cookie : how about this, I'll let ya go and I'll take the jewellers back~?

CriminalM!Reader blushing : What's in it for me?

Rye cookie : ya don't end up in the slammer and ain't forced to eat disgusting slob~

CriminalM!Reader blushing : Sighs fine....

Rye cookie : ya haven't heard my part of the deal yet

CriminalM!Reader blushing : What? I thought getting the jewelleries back was your part of the deal?

Rye cookie : Chuckles ain't even the slightest~

CriminalM!Reader blushing : Sighs then what is it-.....ngh~!

[Rye cookie start licking Y/N's cookie's neck]'

Rye cookie : Chuckles aw don't ya worry sweetheart~ I promise not to bite too hard on ya~

[Y/N's Cookie blushes redder]

[Rye cookie moves both of his pinned hands into her left hand and uses her right hand to cover her mouth]

Rye cookie : but I am gonna make this little game of ours a lil' rougher~

[neonghostlights]

Quiet Part Two: When It Started

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Detective!Reader

Series Summary: Ten years after Eddie’s death you are a detective for the Hawkins Police Department. When there are a string of deaths you can’t solve, someone comes back from the grave with answers to everything.

Warnings: nothing really beside upside down stuff, death, missing animals and overall gloom. Next part gets bloodier.

Series Masterlist

End Of September 1996•Ten Years Later

You were tired as you dragged yourself into the station.

It was early, earlier than you wanted to be. Coffee in hand as you made your way to your office that was beside the chiefs.

“Good morning!” Loretta said cheerily from her desk. She was somewhat new, starting just a few months ago after Gloria finally retired. She was a single mom in her forties, trying to make money again after her asshole of an ex left her with nothing except for four little ones to take care of.

“Morning, Loretta,” you grumbled through a breath of air as you stalked past her.

You’d be nicer later after you had a chance to drink your caffeine.

Maybe you’d bring her back a deli sandwich after lunch and pretend that they messed up your order again so you didn’t have to see her eat stale crackers as her lunch from the break room again.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Hopper called in lieu of greeting as you passed his office to reach yours.

“Haha,” you deadpanned.

You would think the man would want to stay home after dealing with the shit he’s been through. After his sudden reemergence back in 1986 after a hospital mix up and case of mistaken identity that made the whole to m think he was dead he quickly returned back to his role as chief police of Hawkins.

Of course you and a select few knew where he really was all for all of those months and why he was in such bad shape when he returned.

Hopper shook his head as you sat down at your desk.

Hawkins decided to hire a detective after what happened in ‘86. They decided to have someone trained to handle more complex cases instead of just sending deputies on wild goose chases through town.

So that’s why you went to school and took the job once you graduated.

The only downfall was how boring it was. Hawkins population was low since the ‘earthquake’. A lot of people left, and there were quite a few deaths.

Hence, not a lot of crime except for neighbors accusing each other of stealing lawn mowers and run away animals.

“Detective,” Deputy Callahan chided as he slid a file onto your desk. “We’ve got a missing dog. Maybe if you hurry up you’ll be able to get finger prints of the doggy bowl.”

You rolled your eyes. “For the one hundredth time I’m not animal control. Go bother someone else.”

“Leave her alone,” Hopper called from his office. The damn walls were so thin.

And you didn’t really need Hopper to stand up for you, not anymore.

You yanked the file away from Callahans finger tips.

“I’ll find the damn dog,” you mumbled as he walked away with a laugh.

——

“I can’t believe they messed up your order again,” Loretta gushed as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“I know,” you sighed as you put together yet another coffee for yourself.

“Do you have any plans for this weekend?” Loretta asked.

You raised your eyebrows at her because she knew you never had plans but she was polite enough to ask anyways.

She laughed. “I’m gonna go ahead and get a head start on the kids Halloween costumes this weekend. Jake’s insisting on being a cowboy and Valerie wants to be the tooth fairy.”

“Better then when I was a witch for 7 years in a row,” you shrugged.

“At least the baby doesn’t care what I dress her in as long as it’s warm.”

You smiled and said goodbye to her as you made your back to your desk.

You saw the file sitting on your desk and a rush of excitement went through you as you pulled it off your desk and opened it up, excited to have a new case.

Just to see it was a missing cat.

You threw the file in your cabinet and slammed it hard enough for Callahan to hear in the other room.

You hated this place.

“Kid, I need you on a call. It’s the Walker’s dog,” Hopper said as he poked his head into your office.

“I am not animal control! How many damn times do I need to-“

“No. You’re gonna want to see this.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Enough is Enough

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Goddess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: character deaths, reader being forced to kill, revenge kills, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Heyy! Can you write a one shot  of team free will x powerful demigod reader? Where the reader is the daughter of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades  and blessed by the Gods and the Team need her help for some case and they summon her for help and in the end Dean or Sam fall in love her?

Summary: Sam and Dean take on a case where people are killing themselves after what appears to be a ghost touching them when in reality, something much deadlier is attacking them.

Square Filled: summoning a spirit for @spnclassicbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

“Okay, Sammy, tell me one more time what we’re dealing with,” Dean says as he drives into Victorville, California.

“Two people have died under mysterious circumstances. They were normal people with normal jobs until one day they suddenly went crazy and killed themselves. None of them had prior indications that they were mentally ill or had depression.”

“Yeah, that could be our thing.”

“I already called the sheriff. He’s expecting us.” Dean heads into town and stops at the local sheriff’s station. Both brothers get out and enter the station where the sheriff greets them. “Sheriff. I’m Agent Lennon and this is my partner Agent McCartney.”

“Thank you for coming out here.”

“Of course. What else can you tell us about this case?”

“I can do you one better. I can show you. Follow me.” The sheriff brings Sam and Dean to his desk where footage from a CCTV camera is already pulled up. “Go ahead. Press play.”

Sam sits down and presses play to start the video. There is a highway with passing cars and a diner on the other side of the road where someone is waiting for something. Thirty seconds pass before Sam sees something glitch in and out of the frame. If someone were scrolling through the footage, they would miss it but Sam knows what he’s looking for. As soon as the mysterious object passes through the frame, the man starts screaming in terror. He pulls at his hair and runs into traffic where he gets hit by a car.

“Poor son of a bitch,” the sheriff sighs.

Sam rewinds the footage and stops on the figure that glitches into the frame. There isn’t a good angel for it but Sam knows it’s the shape of a woman.

“Was there footage of the first murder?” Dean asks.

“No. It happened inside the victim’s home.”

“If you get any more footage, please let us know immediately.”

“Sure thing.”

Sam and Dean finish up at the police department and leave together.

“Did you see the ghost?”

“I’m surprised the sheriff didn’t.”

“We should check the diner for any signs of EMF.” Sam and Dean drive over to the spot where the second victim killed himself. CSI and the police already investigated here, so the place is pretty empty. No one wants to go to a diner where someone saw a ghost and freaked the fuck out. “Why don’t you see what you can find out? I’ll talk to the staff inside.”

Dean leaves his brother’s side and heads inside while Sam takes out his EMF reader. He walks down the entire length of the parking lot but not a single abnormality shows up on the reader. It doesn’t take long for Dean to finish talking to the staff inside and he joins his brother’s side when he’s done.

“Anything?”

“They didn't see a thing. It was too dark to see if there was another person. All they knew is that he came in by himself, ate, and left. Minutes later, he went crazy and killed himself. What about you?”

“Nothing. There is no evidence that there was any ghost here. It’s weird, we definitely saw a ghost on film.”

“What else could it be?”

While Sam and Dean ponder on that questions, two teenage kids hang out at a grocery store on the other side of town. They’re known as the troublemakers of the town. They love getting into fights, trashing people’s houses, skipping school, and causing headaches for most of the adults in town. Dylan and Jaden are best friends who feed off each other’s energy so there is no stopping them whenever they come together.

Dylan is resting on the hood of his car while Jaden is smoking next to him. They’re in the mood for a little fucking around with the locals in town. The best kind of people to fuck with are the tourists and people who pass by their town because they don’t know the boys’ reputation. Someone new moved to town not that long ago making him the perfect target for the boys’ torment.

The man is walking out of the store since his shift has finished and walks toward his car. Dylan nudges Jaden with his foot and gestures to the employee. Jaden takes a deep inhale from his cigarette and flicks it onto the ground.

“Melinoe, come out come out wherever you are,” Jaden smirks.

You emerge from the shadows with a look of hatred on your face. Dylan and Jaden smirk and point to the man walking to his car.

“I should kill you two instead,” you glare.

“Do that and you won’t ever see your heart again. Now go kill the bitch before we kill you,” Dylan threatens.

If someone is in possession of your heart, they have the ability to use you in any way they wish. If someone were to pierce your heart, then you’ll die a slow and painful death. These two idiot kids got ahold of your heart and now have power over you that no human should ever have.

You walk over to the man who has no clue what’s about to happen to him. You’re all for killing people and bringing their souls to the Underworld for punishment but only those who deserve it. The people you’ve killed never deserved it despite the two kids thinking they did. You walk past the man and touch his shoulder to let your powers flow through him. The man screams in terror and pulls at his hair as he is driven mad. He carries self-defense weapons to protect himself which he uses to kill himself.

You turn back to the shadows when you’ve done your part.

The next morning, Sam and Dean show up at the grocery store parking lot where the man killed himself. Dean talks to some of the staff while Sam takes out his EMF reader to check for paranormal signs. Much like the last scene, nothing shows up.

“Dean, this isn’t making any sense.”

“The store manager says we can look at his security footage. He got a good view of the parking lot. Come on.”

Sam and Dean walk inside the store and meet the sheriff at the manager’s office where the cameras are. The manager plays back the footage to the right after the man left for his shift. There are two kids by a car in the background that are illuminated by the light pole, and they’re watching the man walk to his car. A ghostly figure walks into the frame and they gesture for it to attack the man.

They watch as the figure walks past the man who then freaks out. He takes one of his self-defense weapons and kills himself with it.

“Who are those two kids?” Dean asks. The manager rewinds the footage and zooms in on both of them, getting a clear view of them. “Sheriff, could you identify them?”

“Yeah. I’ll have my men look into it.”

The sheriff immediately sends the footage over to his IT department who comes back with both of their identities and their addresses. Sam and Dean will take over from here, so they head over to Dylan’s house in hopes that he’s home. Dean and Sam walk up to the front door and knock three times. Five minutes later, Dylan answers the door with Jaden behind him.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Are you Dylan and Jaden?”

“What’s it to you, old man?” Sam and Dean push themselves inside their house and look around. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Where is she?” Dean asks and shoves his FBI badge into his face. “Where are you hiding her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The woman you use to kill people. Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave before I call the police on you. Do you even have a warrant to be in here?”

Dean is about to tear him a new one when you appear from the shadows in the corner of the room. Sam and Dean take out their guns with iron bullets and aim them at you. Dylan and Jaden step back when they see the weapons to stay out of the line of fire.

“Who the hell is she?”

“Those bullets won’t do anything to me.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the thing they keep hostage to kill others with,” you glare at them.

“Kill them,” Dylan orders.

This is it. This is your way out. At this moment, you don’t care about your heart or where they might have hidden it. The fact is, they don’t have it on them right now.

“No, I don’t think I will. I’m done being your bitch. It’s time you get a taste of your own medicine.”

You disappear from sight and allow them a few seconds of pure terror of not knowing where you are. You appear behind them and place your hands on both of their heads. You let your magic flow through their brains ten times harder than you did with the other victims. Almost immediately, they begin screaming their heads off in fear.

They didn’t know it, but they were declared dead the second they possessed your heart.

They claw at their hair, run their nails down their faces so hard it draws blood, and smash their heads against the walls multiple times. Dylan did it so much that his skull split open and his brain and blood spattered everywhere. Both men slid to the floors when they died, and you turn to the brothers who have shocked looks on their faces.

“My name is Melinoe but I go by Y/N these days. I am the Goddess of Ghosts, Nightmares, and Funerary Rites. I am the daughter of Persephone and Zeus and Hades combined. I’d like your help finding out where my heart is so I can be free.”

Sam and Dean call in the double suicide before leaving the scene as fast as possible. You join them in their motel room to talk about what you’re here for and what it means to have someone possess your heart.

“We’ve met some Greek Gods in our time but never someone like you. We’ve met your father.”

“Which one?”

“Zeus.”

“Despite what people say, Zeus is worse than Hades. Zeus got jealous of Hades and banished him to the Underworld.” Sam and Dean look at each other in silence. “Look, I know you think I’m a killer but I’m not a bad person. I only kill those who deserve it so I can guide their souls into the Underworld to exact their punishment. Those two idiots made me kill innocent people.”

“How did they do that?”

“They have my heart. I shouldn’t have killed them. They hid it so I wouldn’t grab it and leave them.”

“We’ll find it,” Sam smiles.

“Thank you. I’m not all bad, you know. I can reunite people with their dead loved ones for a few minutes. Cemeteries are my favorite places to hang out in.”

You, Sam, and Dean do some research on where Dylan and Jaden could have hidden your heart. They would have chosen a place where no one would find it. A place that could be abandoned or a cave. There aren’t a lot of spots like that around town so it’s easy to compile a list.

“What will happen if your heart is destroyed?”

“I’ll die. I had ownership of my heart for thousands of years until one day I met a man. A man who heard the rumors about me and what I can do. This was during the time when Greek Gods and Goddesses were roaming Earth. He’s the sole reason why I believe in love, but he’s also the reason why I believe in heartbreak. He stole my heart and it’s been passed around ever since.”

“Greek Gods were around in 900 BC. That’s a long time to go without your heart.”

“You’re telling me,” you scoff.

“I promise to get your heart back for you.”

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly.

“Okay, I have a list of three places where your heart can be,” Dean says. “The abandoned factory outside of town, the old Well House on someone’s farm, and a cave in Long Beach. Though, I don’t think they’d drive two hours for something so precious as a Goddess’ heart.”

“Let’s check the factory first. These guys craved power. I don’t think they would allow my heart to reside on someone else’s property.”

“Factory it is.”

You three head thirty minutes to the factory outside of town. Before you step foot out of the car, you can feel the power your heart holds. It’s here and it’s calling to you. You don’t have to search the entire property because you know exactly where it is. Your heart is inside a dirty box and you scoff at the treatment it got.

“Wow, never seen that before,” Dean mutters.

You grab your heart and it glows bright green at being connected to the person it belongs to. You move the top of your dress to the side and allow your heart to be absorbed back into your body. Your entire body glows bright green before dimming down, and you turn to the brothers with a smile.

“I can’t thank you two enough for what you’ve done for me. Please allow me to repay you back. Is there a dead loved one you’d like to see again?”

“No, we’re good. I just want to get out of this God-forsaken town,” Dean chuckles.

Sam looks at his brother in thought and gets an idea.

“Actually, there might be.”

It doesn't matter where a person is buried or where they ended up after death. You have the power to draw their souls back to you for a short amount of time to give a person a chance to talk to them. Dean is shocked when you pull his mother and father from Heaven to allow him some time to talk to them. Sam never knew them, not in the way that Dean did, so he gives this moment to his brother.

“You must love your brother to let him have this,” you say to Sam.

You and he are off to the side to give Dean some time alone with his parents.

“He knew them better than I ever did,” he shrugs.

“Listen, I don’t have to be in the Underworld right now. Would you like some company for a while?”

A blush spreads across Sam’s cheeks at the thought of spending more time with you.

“I’d like that.”

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[heeseung-min]

[17:53]

Part 2 from [11:44]

I saw some of you wanted part 2 for this so here you are😁 hope you guys enjoy

"What do you mean there was only one body?! Two of my friends live here!!"

Beomgyu angrily said to the police officer. Soobin also tried to hold himself from yelling because frustrated. When they saw a news of murdering happened on your neighbourhood this morning, both of them rushed to your place only to find Karina's dead body outside the house while you were missing.

"I know you are frustrated right now but we also trying our best here to find Miss Y/n. The neighbours also told us they didn't hear anything."

"Bullshit. How can they can't hear their screaming?"

Before Beomgyu can continue more, the police stopped him and went to do something else. Soobin reassured him.

"I'm sure Y/n is still alive. She will not give up easily. Let's try to find her, gyu. Waiting for the police officer is just wasteful."

-----

-----

"You're going to act like this?"

Jungwon scoffed when he didn't get any answer from you. It's been a week since you got abducted and you've been so stubborn to them. Everytime they bring you food, you will either throw it away or left it untouched. Tired of your rage, Riki decided to tie your feet and hands so you can't throw the food away anymore.

You can feel your body become weak. Sometimes, you also feel lightheaded and thirsty so much. But, you don't want to give in.

"Let me go. I don't want to be here."

"We can't do that."

"I DON'T WANT TO BE IN HERE! LET ME GO YOU SICK FUCK! I WILL MAKE SURE BOTH OF YOU GET SEND TO JAIL!!"

Riki entered the room when he heard you screamed. To be honest, having Jungwon alone with you is better than Riki. At least Jungwon is not too rough with you rather than Riki.

You quickly backed away to the headboard when he came closer. Now, the braveness inside you just now completely vanished.

He didn't bring anything that can harm you. Instead of that, he went closer and sit near you and whispered to your ear.

"I have your parents address. Unless you want to see them here bloody dying, you can continue that."

That sure brought you to accept the fate. You can't do anything with your state right now. Riki took the bowl and spoon-feed you until it's finished and gave you water that you've been needing it for few days.

"See, you become a good girl. We will treat you better. If you want to be brat, you will face the consequence. Listen to us, okay? This is your home from now."

You nodded without saying anything. Afraid you will let out some words that will bring consequence. You waited for both of them to go out before trying to calm yourself from the panic attack you had just now.

________

________

"Are you really sure you asked all the neighbours? It is very impossible for them to not hear our friends screaming for help."

"Listen here, boy. How are you so sure they screamed that night? Probably your friend got killed first before she can even ask for help."

"BULLSHIT. HOW DARE YOU?"

Beomgyu punched the officer to the floor. Before he could do the second punch, he was pulled by Soobin and another officer.

"If you continue doing this, we will have no choice but to arrest you."

"You guys literally doing nothing to save my friend! Y/n is still alive!!"

"Let's go Beomgyu. There's nothing good being here. Let's find Y/n by ourselves."

That's what Soobin said before pulling Beomgyu out of the police station.

Both of Soobin and Beomgyu continue searching around your house area in case there is some evidence left or missed by the police. Soobin sighed frustratingly not finding anything after an hour. He stretched his body and moved around his neck until he caught something. Someone was staring straight to your house and quickly pulled the curtain when he noticed Soobin caught him.

"Beomgyu!"

"What?"

"I think we can get some information from the neighbour."

Beomgyu turned his head to look at Soobin who was staring at the upper floor of the next house.

Knock! Knock!

Both of the men watched a woman opened the door. She's quite old and looked very sweet as she smiled to them.

"May I help you, young men?"

"We want to ask about our friends which was your neighbour. Were you in the house at Wednesday ago?"

"I'm sorry but I was at my hometown. I'm sorry about your friends. They were so kind to me."

Her expression relaxed but Soobin noticed her smile now more to force. She must be hiding something. So, he wanted to try something.

"I heard from the police that the murderer might be two people. Is that true?"

"Oh! yes yes! There were two. I heard that too from other neighbours."

Bingo.

"You are lying."

Now, the smile on her face has changed to shocked. Beomgyu and Soobin sighed before questioning her again.

"Police didn't say anything yet about the murderer but you knew there were two person that night?"

"I- I was not.."

"Please help us find our friend. We will make sure to keep you safe if you help us."

The woman felt guilty when both of them started to begging her. She can see how frustrated and angry they were on their eyes. But, she closed her eyes and sighed before opening again. The guilt in the eyes were gone and replaced by the selfishness. She pushed the boys out of her house.

"Don't come here again and bother me. If you do it again, I will call the police."

Soobin and Beomgyu couldn't believe what just happened. When they thought they finally get some help, it just ruined suddenly. They went back to your house to continue searching. When they got back to their car, Soobin noticed a paper stuck at the windshield.

I'm sorry for my mom's attitude. She did that because she was scared. That night, only one girl got murdered and the other one got kidnapped by two persons. I didn't see the face since both of them wearing a mask. Hopefully this can help you to find your friend.

-Sunoo-

****

****

"Aren't you afraid of getting caught by the police?"

You asked Riki as he tighten the rope around your wrists. You winced when you felt hurt because of the tightness. Jungwon was going out to do some errands so Riki will be the one who took care of you.

"Afraid? Huh, do you think the police will find us, Y/n? After all, no one go out the night you were screaming aloud asking for help." Riki said as he smirked to you as a mock. You were clenching your fists trying to suppress the anger inside you.

It's been nearly three weeks or a month? You also didn't remember it and were slowly losing hope to run from them. The thought of the neighbours didn't help during the police interrogation scared you to death. You didn't want to spend whole life with these creeps.

"But, why me? What do I have that both of you decided to do this?"

Riki sat beside you and caressed your hair gently before he whispered something that made you felt creepy.

"Because we are curious how would you look when you are broken and helpless."

"FUCK YOU!!!"

You kicked hard at his left thigh and tried to throw the small vase on the nightstand towards him. The vase did break and you can see blood coming out frok Riki's head.

"You bitch!! Argh fuck get over here!!"

Riki didn't move for a while because he's busy holding the pain on his thigh and his head. The vase made his head hurt and you took that chance and started to run from the room with the sharp piece of the broken vase.

"You can run Y/n. Make sure I don't caught you cause you don't want to face the consequence."

What Riki said made your adrenaline rush and your speed on running increasing. You don't know which way to go cause you never get out and get familiar with the place so you just ran fast to get far away from Riki. You knew how bad it will be if you get caught and you don't want that to happen.

You keep running until you saw a road few metres in front of you. You started to lose your breath from the running. Your throat is dry and desperate water but you can't give up. Not when you finally can be free. You were happy when you saw a car from far. You decided to raise your hand as a signal for the driver to stop.

However, just when the car got near, someone grabbed you from behind.

----

AHAHAHAH HOW'S THAT🤣🤣🤣 i bet you all frust at the end right

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @lamoons @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @marylalala @enha-stan

I tagged those who wants part 2 of this but some account cant be tagged idk why tumblr is so dumb so hopefully you guys enjoy this

[the-marvelclub]

While you were sleeping | Bucky Barnes

Part 2.

series masterlist

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Exhausted, you walked down the busy street that led to Joe's bar. The previous hours had not turned out as you would've hoped. After the outburst of emotions at the hospital from Steve's friends, you could feel the headache coming on. You weren't even sure why you hadn't been able to tell the truth at that precise moment, heck, you weren't even a good liar. But for the first time in a long time, you were overcome with a feeling you thought you would never feel again, warmth. It was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Soon you realized that your presence there meant something more important to them; hope. Hope of finally knowing what had happened to Steve in the last few years, hope to find out who was responsable for his situation or maybe the opportunity of having him back, you couldn't be sure, but they had welcomed you with such kindness and gratitude, that you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth.

So when they were getting everything ready to take Steve to the avengers compound, you took the opportunity to return home in hopes of getting some sleep, knowing that Steve was in good hands and that he would be better. A sigh of relieve left your body as you opened the door to your apartment, without even caring about changing your clothes, you lay on your bed and fell asleep.

Joe was leaning on the bar as he stared at you in shock trying to process what you just told him.

“Are you crazy?" he finally opened his mouth after what seemed like an eternity. "Steven doesn't even know you exist."

“Is Steve, and thank you for that" you sighed putting your head in your hands, you had hope that the horrible headache was gone by now, clearly you were wrong. And if that wasn't bad enough, you had found out that the men from last night that attack Steve had disappeared on the way to the police station, as if they had vanished into thin air. Part of you feared they would come for you.

"Let me get this straight" he put aside the glass cup he was cleaning and looked at you "you've fooled the mightiest superheroes in the universe into believing that Steve Rogers, who you've never talked to and who you didn’t even know who he really was less than 24 hours ago, is your fiancé."

I cringe.

"Well, it sounds crazier if you put it that way."

"It is crazy either way" he replied "what have you gotten yourself into? What if those men in the alley find out about it too? What if they come after you to get to him? What if Steve wakes up and see a stranger who claims to be his fiancée hanging out with his friends".

The thought had crossed your mind, things seemed to be getting more and more complicated, you knew you had to tell the truth and that is what you planned to do, but somehow the thought of never seeing Steve again was unbearable.

Joe sighed putting his hand on your shoulder as he saw the anguish on your face, "Y/n... h-how much can you really love someone you don't even know?" he stared at you with sorrow, he paused for a moment as if he weren´t sure of his next question. "Are you sure this isn't about Ryan?

You froze. It had been a long time since you'd heard that name, you hadn't even allowed yourself to think about that name and the person it belonged to. He knew that. "It's just, he looked so much like Steve, maybe the only thing you love about Steve is just that."

You swallowed feeling the tears starting to sting your eyes. You didn't want to talk about it. "I'll tell them the truth Joe, I just need a little time to figure out how to do it." you sighed "but first, remember the time you mentioned you knew the address of Steve's apartment?" you said trying to sound as casual as you could.

Joe narrowed his eyes and looked at you curiously.

"Maybe..." he dragged out "what are you getting at?"

"Natasha sent me a text, she invited me to dinner tonight at the compound, but before that she asked if I could pick up some clothes for Steve at his apartment and I said yes." You said quickly, evading the gaze of your boss in front of you.

"Well of course, what kind of fiancée wouldn't know where her future husband lives, right?" He said rolling his eyes.

After begging some more he finally gave you the adress, in fact, Steve's apartment wasn't too far from the bar so you headed to the address Joe gave you. You had to find a way to get in and get his clothes before tonight's dinner.

You sighed staring at the big brown door in front of you, after 4 flights of stairs you found the apartment, you had to find some way to get in without looking like you were trespassing, maybe you could try to explain the situation to the doorman so he would give you an extra key or something. You were about to go back when you heard a deep voice you didn't recognize behind you.

"So are you gonna open the door or stare at it for another 3 minutes."

You let out a squeal turning around with your heart pounding in your chest. Blue eyes met yours, he was leaning on the stair railing, wearing a cap that covered his brown hair, and a black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders. You had never seen him before but once again he looked vaguely familiar. His intense gaze swept over you from head to toe.

"I'm James... Bucky, Bucky Barnes. Steve's best friend" oh great, more friends "you must be y/n, right? Steve's fiancée" he added in an ambiguous tone. He cocked his head to the side and you flinched, a part of you felt exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. As if he was able to see right behind your cheap facade.

Red covered your cheeks as anxiety took over your body.

"U-um... yeah" you cursed yourself internally for stuttering so much "I-I don't remember meeting you."

"That's because we haven´t" his answer was dry as he started walking towards you "so? are you gonna open that door? I suppose you have an extra key, don't you?

"S-sure..." you mumbled, with shaky hands you put your arm up over the door frame praying that Steve was one of those people who left an extra key there just in case. You were thinking of what excuse to use for the intimidating man waiting behind you when your fingers touched something metallic. Bingo. "This is where we keep it" you smiled showing him the small key, he looked surprised for a moment but was quick to hide it, back to his serious face.

"How did you know where he lives?" you asked cautiously as you opened the apartment door. If he was part of Steve's friends, he wouldn't know of his whereabouts for the last 2 years either.

"I stopped by Joe's bar" he simply replied following you inside the apartment "Natasha told me I could find you there, so I went, Joe gave me the location and told me you would be here picking up some things."

The apartment didn´t looked like much, a small brown couch, a TV, the little kitchen on the right side, and a hallway that led to what you suppose would be the bedroom.

"So how long have you two been together?" you turned quickly, Bucky Barnes was going through the papers scattered on the coffee table in the living room.

"Oh, Steve and I?" you muttered "since September 17th" you said the first thing that came to mind.

Shit.

"Huh" he put down the papers and looked at you with a frown "so four months, that's pretty fast".

More like less than 12 hours, but he didn't have to know that yet "You have no idea".

You slipped away quickly to the bedroom before Bucky could think of any more questions. You knew he would find out soon, you could sense it in the way he looked at you. There were no thank yous, no tears or hugs like with Natasha and Steve's friends. No, with Bucky Barnes there were only doubts and mistrust.

Your eyes roamed the room, the bed was unmade, there were still clothes on the floor, cds of old rock bands and history books lay on the side table. You fixed your eyes on the dresser next to the door and checked the drawers for Steve's clothes.

Placing the clothes in the bag you had with you, you headed for the living room, Bucky was inspecting the place as if he was trying to look for signs that this was, in fact, Steve's apartment. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, unruly strands of dark hair sticking out of his cap as he tilted his head and looked at you. "Can you pour me a glass of water, please?" he said casually but his eyes reflected a deeper motive.

"Um, sure," you ran your hand over your damp forehead as you headed to the kitchen. "I don't remember seeing you at the hospital," you said, making conversation out of him, hoping he wouldn't notice that you didn't know where the damn glasses were.

"I just got back from a mission" he responded but you didn't pay attention to him, you opened the cabinet in front of you, revealing two boxes of cereal and some canned goods, you closed it quickly and opened the next one.

"You don't know where the glasses are kept?" you heard his voice right behind you, you turned around, he was just a few steps away from you, the corner of his lips turned up, as if he thought it was funny. As if he knew the answer to his question. He was testing you.

You forced yourself to smile at him, trying to act casual about it. “Yeah, it's just that Steve sometimes moves them around.”

"Yes, I'm sure".

"Ha! see, here they are" you said triumphantly opening another of the cabinets. A hand behind you closed it before you could take one of the glasses.

"You know what? I'm not thristy anymore," he replied with a low laugh as he took some keys out of the pocket of his blue jeans. "We better get going, I have a feeling it's going to be a very interesting dinner."

[yanderes-galore]

Hcs for how a rivalry (romantic) would happen between Connor and his superior model RK-900? Thank you!

Sure! This takes place in an AU where Connor deviates upon knowing he's being replaced and is on the run from Cyberlife.

I'd like feedback as I had so many ideas for this, I want to know how I did! Hope you like it :) This could totally be a longer fic due to the endings ans choices. I'm so happy with this.

Ngl, new fav fic of mine. This is long. I need to write more D:BH.

Yandere! Connor (RK800) vs RK900

Pairing: Rivalry - Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Guns, Murder, Forced kissing, Possessive behavior, Moral conflict, Rivalry, Deviancy, Android/Human, Overprotective behavior, Blood mention, Stalking, Invasion of privacy, Trauma.

You knew Connor first

The android was cold at times but you knew he was just doing what his programming told him.

You worked at the police station, while Connor was assigned to Hank, the android often looked towards you.

It was against his programming to ask about you, yet you still saw him walk over to you.

You weren't opposed to androids unlike your colleagues, yet you didn't want to encourage Connor to be off task.

"Hello, Officer (Y/N)."

"Hey, Connor. Need something?"

"No. I was just checking in. Are you doing fine with organizing crime files?"

"Yes... but you should really go back to Hank, Connor."

"Do you not like me standing here?"

"I just don't want to distract you, Connor."

"I am not on duty as of now. Do I make you uncomfortable?"

This Connor is a combination of sticking with his coding and being a deviant.

He's deviant enough to still have some sort of obsession towards you, but cold enough to go against other deviants.

You have no idea how you affect the android.

You bring out the flaws within him.

The flaws that push him to looking for info about you.

When you aren't around, Connor snoops.

He looks through your computer for the most part.

It would be strange if he asked others about personal info.

He also isn't deviant enough to stalk.

Then, once Connor completes his missions, you meet RK900.

It surprises you when you meet the newer model, he looks exactly like Connor but with different clothing.

This leaves you dreading what happened to Connor....

"What happened to Connor?"

"RK800? He is being hunted by Cyberlife. In short, he is on the run."

"On the run...?"

"Yes. I have been assigned to Lt. Hank Anderson... Cyberlife told me you are also on the case. The uprising is finished. We just need to find RK800 now."

Something about the way RK900 talks puts you on edge.

Connor ran away? So he was a deviant....

It saddened you to know he probably ran due to the fear of being replaced....

No one likes to be replaced, human or android.

This is how RK900 gets attached to you.

He is aware you were close with the deviant, thinking you'll be the key to finding him.

He is a better model of RK800, meant to iron out the imperfections of his predecessor.

Although, turns out they missed one or two.

While not as open about it as Connor, he still feels an attachment towards you.

Through the hunt of Connor, RK900 appears to care more and more about you.

He also keeps trying to convince you Connor's dangerous.

"If you see the deviant, contact me."

"You mean Connor-"

"The name is not needed. Promise you'll call for back up."

"Fine... I promise."

You have no idea that when you're with RK900, Connor is keeping an eye on you.

Finally full deviant, Connor stalks you and his replacement.

It hurts him to know you were stuck alongside someone who looks like him... but isn't him

Connor is now without his LED, body covered in a large hood and baggy pants.

He needed a disguise that would hide his appearance... this is what he could come up with.

He doesn't look like the Connor you used to know.

He looks a bit too human.

He never wanted to be on the run, yet he never wanted to be replaced either.

In fact... he wished he could have you on the run with him.

It would be unsafe, but he really misses you.

Watching you with that RK900 upsets him, too.

Perhaps during the investigation, when RK900 finally leaves you be, Connor pulls you into an alleyway.

You go to scream... but those eyes are familiar.

"Don't say anything. I promise I won't hurt you."

"Connor? Is that really you?"

"I missed you, (Y/N)... Truthfully, I think of you a lot."

"That's... flattering- What is your plan? Are you going to run until your thirium pump stalls?"

"I want to get out of the city... you need to come with."

"... Connor, no, I-"

"Please, (Y/N). I promise we'll live a good life. Just help me-"

"...."

You're left with two choices.

Go with Connor and help him out of the city or stick with RK900 to turn Connor in.

>>> Leave with Connor.

"Fine, I'll help you out."

If you agree to Connor's offer, he's ecstatic.

Unable to control his fabricated form of love, he leans down and kisses you.

His lips are cold, a faux sense of desperation in his movements.

He then pulls away, readjusting the hood.

"I knew you'd say yes."

You then disappear with Connor, alerting RK900.

You were done investigating your area, right?

Why weren't you back?

The chase for Connor intensifies, now realizing you're gone too.

You're now suspected of helping the deviant, your arrest now being thought of.

Connor's grip on you is intense.

He's extremely protective of you and you help him try to leave Detroit.

When escape is within your grasp, RK900 stops you both.

"Connor, look out!"

A gunshot is heard, thirium spilling out from Connor's hood.

"RK800. Release your hostage!"

RK900 has a gun pointed at Connor, meanwhile Connor has you behind him.

"(Y/N) is no hostage.... we're happy!"

Connor pulls a gun from his pocket, pointing it at RK900.

"Back up is on its way, RK800."

You look fearfully between the two.

This could end one of two ways....

>>> RK900 shoots first

"No... leave us alone- I refuse to comply."

"You leave me no choice, RK800. You'd be disassembled anyways."

With quick speed, RK900 shoots Connor between the eyes.

You scream as the deviant hits the ground, RK900 pocketing his gun.

"Now listen, (Y/N). Your arrest is being considered. However, if you come with me with the explanation you're a hostage... you'll be fine. If not... a cell is waiting for you."

You stare warily towards Connor, deactivated on the ground.

Dead upon the head wound.

"... If you say so...."

RK900 then takes you into his hold, walking you back to the station.

"You know..."

RK900 starts, gray eyes looking towards you.

"If you wanted attention from him, I could give you just that."

Your eyes widen, staring up at the android.

It clicks in your head once you get to the station...

He's a deviant too.

>>> Connor shoots first

Before giving RK900 a chance to speak, Connor shoots.

A bullet hits his neck, then another in his head.

In retaliation, RK900 shoots but it misses you both.

Damaged on the ground, RK900 lays motionless.

"Okay, Connor, let's run-"

*Bang bang bang*

Connor shoots three more unneeded rounds into RK900 before tugging you along and pocketing his gun.

"Come on."

His tone is cold once again, pushing you two on a bus heading out of town.

Connor sits you by a window seat and him next to you.

You're caged in, Connor's brown gaze fixated on you.

"(Y/N)."

You look to him, the situation setting in.

"... Can we kiss again?"

"Connor... why?"

"I like to think... I'm yours. So, please, show me I am."

"... if you really want it"

It'll be a long bus ride... you aren't even sure if this is the right decision in the end.

>>> Refuse Connor's offer.

"No, Connor."

He looks to process the information before pressing you closer against the wall.

"I NEED you, (Y/N)!"

Cold lips force themselves against yours, silencing your screams for help.

That is until a gunshot is heard, thirium pooling out of Connor.

"Release Officer (Y/N), deviant."

RK900 points a gun towards Connor, Connor pulls away, pulling a gun of his own.

"No..."

This could end one of three ways.

>>> RK900 shoots Connor

"Very well then, RK800."

*bang*

Connor lets you go, crashing into the alleyway.

You flinch at the loud sound, RK900 putting away his weapon before coaxing you close to him.

He notices you shaking, eyes narrowing at the damaged deviant.

"It'll be okay, (Y/N)... I've got you. I'll protect you."

Normally, he'd ignore your shaking hug.

Although...he felt different.

The obvious culprit would be deviancy.

Which would mean memory wiping... or worse.

RK900 silences such thoughts and decides to hide them from you, for now.

You may not be emotionally stable enough to handle it, anyway.

RK900 presses you to his chest, chin on your head.

He'll comfort you... then take you back.

After removing Connor... RK900 felt... relief.

Was it because you're no longer in danger...?

Or was it because you're finally all his?

>>> Connor shoots RK900

"I'd never give (Y/N) up."

*bang bang bang*

RK900 is caught off guard, falling to the ground.

Connor then holds you crushingly close to his body, making a run for it.

Even though you struggle, he ignores it, throwing you over his shoulder.

You'll understand he cares for you in time...

For now, he needs to focus on getting you both out of town.

"I know you don't understand, (Y/N)... but I'm yours, and I hope you'll be mine.

In this case, while it ends similarly to the "Accept Connor" choice...

You really are a hostage this time.

>>> Connor shoots you

"If I'm leaving... then (Y/N) is too."

"Connor, what!?"

The barrel is pressed against your head, the cold metal freezing your skin.

"(Y/N)!"

*bang bang*

Gunshots sync together, leaving only one android active.

You lay on the ground, gunshot to the head taking you out.

Connor lays next to you, shot to the head damaging his processors.

His embrace is still tight around you.

RK900's LED flickers yellow, scanning what has occured.

It then went red at the realization of your death.

RK900 was speechless.

He called your name in concern... admitting deviancy.

He also felt... angry, remorseful at your death....

He was a deviant too... he could sense it.

But what was the point?

He didn't need to be deviant for anyone now.

"What happened, RK900?"

Hank asks, RK900 turning around.

"I was unable to recover Officer (Y/N). Our deviant is disabled, however."

"Dear god...."

RK900 looks back at you, LED continuing to flicker.

In his mind, his mission failed.