#or order the long one online and hope for the best

[mariusslonelysoul]

What no one tells you about making plushies is that the hardest part is finding the motherfucking fabric

[pa-pa-plasma]

i'm going to fucking kill someone. i got screamed at & called selfish & stupid for telling my mom to wear a mask. she gave me covid

[entropys]

:-) things are getting better september truly is a month of new beginnings

[strawbeerossi]

Sweet Treat

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.

Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.

A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.

“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”

And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.

Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.

He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.

You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.

“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.

It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?

Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘

Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.

“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.

Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.

Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.

You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”

“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.

“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.

The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.

“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.

You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.

You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.

Your body was perfect.

As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.

“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.

The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.

Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.

He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.

When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.

Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.

His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.

“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.

“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”

[boysmentfs]

My new boyfriend.

Tommy was Olivia's bff, he was always there for her above all things, they considered themselves almost "sisters" since tommy was not a guy like the others, he was a Twink, brown hair, youthful face, 20 years old, very thin, just like a noodle and clearly homosexual.

Olivia was the typical dumb blonde girl, tall, busty, the same age as tommy and popular but despite all this she always had things going wrong in love, she had recently met a fraternity guy named "Jake" But as expected, their relationship didn't last long and they had broken up a few hours ago, so she sent Tommy a message, so he could comfort her like he always does.

"Sis... I have ended my relationship with Jake, I am devastated... He was the most handsome guy in the world, I can't believe it"

"bestie, why do your relationships always take so little time? I mean, you've dated really hot guys... Hehe, I don't understand why they break up with you, you're beautiful, sis"

"I don't know, Tommy.... I would love to have a boyfriend who actually loves me for a long time, who protects me, listens to me and all that stuff, like you do."

"It's a shame I like guys, bff, because if I didn't, you know I'd be with you, but don't worry, you'll get a nice handsome guy with an attitude like mine!"

"I hope it doesn't take too long for that guy to come into my life, hey baddie, thanks for listening to me <3, now I have to go to sleep, sweet dreams! xoxo"

After that last message, olivia went straight to her computer and looked for something on the black market that could help her with her plan, and that's how he found a pair of red shorts, a chain and some earrings, In the description it said that with those things the guy who will use them would become the most handsome and loving guy in the world, so olivia did not hesitate twice and clicked to buy it.

The next day, the package arrived at her house, but I didn't want it to be so obvious, so I took the things out of the box where they were and handed them another one with a wrapper full of teddy bears and hearts, olivia knew that Tommy, seeing this, would not hesitate to open it, so once she closed the box, she sent it to Tommy's house.

A few minutes had passed since Olivia had sent the box to Tommy's house, When the package arrived someone knocked on the door and left, Tommy went directly to the door and opened it, curious to see the package he picked it up from the floor and began to open it, Tommy, seeing what was inside the box, was surprised. He never ordered clothes online, maybe they went to the wrong house, so he closed the box again, waiting for the real owner to claim it.

Once he left the box on the table, he went straight to the shower, when he finished his shower he grabbed his shirt but something was missing... And that was his special pink shorts, he remembered that he had lent them to his best friend so he thought of a solution, so he remembered that in the package they had sent him there were some red shorts so he went for them, once he used them, he would wash them so that the real owner would not suspect.

He grabbed the red shorts and put them on, It was a beautiful warm and sunny day so he decided to watch some TV, while watching TV he started to feel strange and a little hot, Something in his mind told him no try on what was in the box, the chain and the earrings, so he went for them and put them on, once je had them on he went to a mirror and saw himself, he laughed because he looked like one of her friend's boyfriends, but thin and without any muscle. After he saw herself in the mirror, he returned to the couch to continue watching TV.

And without realizing it, his foot began to enlarge as it became fleshier, his toes lengthened as veins sprouted and some hair grew on them, now he had feet of size 15, large masculine, all their delicacy was gone, now they looked like the feet of an jock.

His legs began to hurt, because they began to thicken and muscle began to come out, now his thighs were big while his calves were worthy of a real man, some hair began to grow on them.

The next thing to change was his butt and his bag, His big butt began to shrink to a decent size worthy of an jock, it was big but not as big as before although it was defined a little more, her pouch, which she was proud of since it was small and delicate, began to grow to a size 15 and also thickened while pubic hair came out, it seemed that she never shaved, but that made him look more masculine.

His designer thong also began to undergo changes, it went from being a red thong to becoming blue designer boxers so that his manhood would be highlighted even more along with his toned butt.

His stomach, which was thin, began to hurt as abdominal after abdominal came out in Tommy's stomach, a v began to be marked on the lateral sides while he gained a beautiful pack of 8 very worked abs, his chest began to expand outwards as two large defined pecs bulged out, a tattoo began to appear on a pectoral, his torso began to lengthen as he became more masculine, his back also underwent changes, it went from being feminine and thin, to being masculine and wide, muscle also appeared there, giving him a very manly back and worthy of admiration.

hiss shirt began to tear due to his large muscles, that was where Tommy reacted and was surprised and ran towards the mirror.

"Omg! What happened to me? I am dreaming? "This must be a dream, yes... I must wake up."

But before Tommy slapped himself, his arms began to hurt as they began to stretch and muscle began to come out, his biceps were now the size of a ball, his triceps were well worked, his delicate hands began to thicken while his fingers lengthened can and they started to look calloused due to all the exercise he did at the gym, wait... Exercise? Gym? He didn't exerc- but before Tommy reacted, two tattoos began to appear on his two muscular arms and another tattoo on one of his biceps.

Tommy couldn't anymore, he was about to cry, so he got the idea to call Olivia, but before he could do that, his face started to hurt.

Tommy's face, which was young, delicate and feminine, began to change as his jaw became marked, giving him a more manly appearance, His lips that were too full from being an expert cocksucker became thinner but still looked kissable, his nose became big and cuter, his eyes that were green began to turn brown, his beautiful blonde hair began to recede as it began to turn black, at the end, his hair ended up with a cut that any jock could have, his face had become the most beautiful, any girl who saw him would die to be with him, Tommy looked in the mirror again, looking at his new appearance, he became somewhat horny, without a doubt his new appearance was his ideal type, all the blood flowed into his bag giving him an obvious erection.

Tommy put his hand in his bag and started moving his hand up and down. He started to think about how many cute guys he could fuck... But as he thought about guys his erection faded, His mind began to give him new memories as a new alpha aura took over him. He began to imagine himself fucking girls with big butts and tits. His erection returned, but Tommy knew this wasn't right... He was... Homo... Homosexual?, NO, he was straight and loved raising beautiful girls with his bag, As he continued to raise and lower his hand he couldn't hold back anymore and he came and with that all his memories, personality and Tommy faded away.

"Seriously, Olivia is lucky to have me as a boyfriend, I mean, who wouldn't want someone like me?" Max said to himself as he flexed one of his arms in the mirror.

Tommy was now Max, Olivia's boyfriend, quarterback of the football team, leader of his fraternity, he loved parties, alcohol, exercising and having fun, max hated homosexuals, he said they could never be real men like him and his "bros."

After pulling up his pants he received a message from his girlfriend Olivia, Olivia knew that Tommy at this point had ceased to exist so she wanted to test out her new boyfriend.

"Hi love! I miss you... I would like to have you here with me, I want you to make me yours... come to my house <3"

"Well, today I'm free princess, to hell with today's training, I prefer to be with my beautiful girl, so you don't miss me so much while i arrived at your house, I'll send you a photo of me, princess ;)"

Olivia was happy with her new boyfriend, he was affectionate and listened to her all day, just like she wanted.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Spamley

Debut: Ralph Breaks the Internet

Hey, remember the Ralph Breaks the Internet craze of 2018? What a time to be alive! Disney's film about What If The eBay Was A Place was an instant hit, due to the fact that everyone knows the Internet, and everyone wants to see a movie about it! You couldn't stop hearing about it! No wonder it won the Academy Award for best animated film! I think it beat out some movie about spiders, or something...?

Kids today might not remember, because 2018 was so long ago. They're too obsessed with their new age sexymen, like Raymond and the big balls Dwarf. But this movie wouldnt've been the cultural phenomenon it was without one character taking the world by storm: a certain J.P. Spamley!

The Internet fell in love with Spamley at first sight, flooding social media with memes and fan art about the loveable green prick. He rose to the highest ranks of the Tumblr Sex Man for a good while! You couldn't scroll for a few minutes without seeing his catchphrase, "Now's your chance to get rich playing video games!"

What kind of a megacorporation would Gisnep be if it didn't capitalize on Spamley's popularity? So they held a special Spamley Sweepstakes event on November 2019, allowing fans to donate money in honor of Spankley himself! All proceeds would go to Bob Iger and Baby Yoda, and if that's not wholesome, I don't know what is. Those who entered even had a chance of winning WILD prizes, like:

That's it that was the only prize

See him in theatres! This is what Disney told us all to do, and we listened! Little did we know they were doing this to hide a dark secret! If you buy the Blu-ray version of the movie, you can actually manipulate the Scene Select to watch the movie out of order and make some... strange things happen. You can look up a walkthrough online, but the gist of it is making Vanelope kill all the Disney Princesses. Especially Merida. And when you do, you unlock a weird alternate ending...

Spamley NEO is the secret true main antagonist of the film, and he wants to take over Oh My Disney to spread spam and advertisements! No! Not Oh My Disney! Please, for the love of God, NOT OH MY DISNEY!! You have to kill him. You have to destroy your Blu-ray copy of Ralph Breaks the Internet now. I hope you're proud of yourself.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 7

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky’s gut had been gnawing at him for weeks, a familiar, nagging feeling whenever Ian was around. Something about the man didn’t sit right, and Bucky couldn’t shake the sense that he’d seen this behavior before. His instincts kicked in, and he ordered someone to dig deeper into Ian’s past.

The brown envelope arrived the next day. Bucky sat at his desk, his eyes narrowing as he tore it open. Inside were the results of the investigation—pages that painted a much darker picture than he’d anticipated. As he skimmed the documents, his jaw clenched, and a low curse escaped his lips, “Shit.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day, you and Bucky arrived at a shelter for single mothers, a stop on the campaign trail. The women inside had experienced hardships most people couldn’t imagine, fleeing from abusive partners and trying to rebuild their lives. Their stories of survival hung in the air, unspoken but palpable in their tired eyes and wary smiles.

You moved through the room, serving food and making small talk with the women, trying your best to offer some comfort. As you handed a plate to one woman, you said softly, “I understand what kind of psychological torment you’ve been through. I hope you stay strong.”

The moment the words left your mouth, what you’d meant as a word of encouragement didn’t land the way you’d hoped.

Later that night, a video of the conversation went viral. It was clear someone had recorded the interaction and released it online. Bucky knew this had to be the work of his opponents, seizing the opportunity to discredit you—and by extension, him.

You watched the video, feeling a pit form in your stomach as the comments poured in:

"Stay strong? She doesn’t seem like someone who’s ever been through what we have."

"She wouldn’t understand. She lives in a happy home. How could she possibly know what it’s like to run from someone who’s supposed to love you?"

Their words cut deep, slicing through your carefully constructed image. They didn’t know the truth—that your marriage to Bucky was its own kind of prison. Pretending to be the perfect wife had taken a toll on you, but no one saw behind the curtain.

You froze, feeling exposed, as if they’d somehow sensed the cracks in your façade. You had become so good at lying, at convincing the world that you and Bucky were happy, that now, faced with these women who had lived through real pain, you felt like a fraud.

Furthermore, you wanted to tell them that you understood, that you too had felt trapped and powerless. But the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you smiled for the cameras, playing your part, knowing that your life was being documented as an example of “happiness.”

Then your eyes landed on a comment that sent you reeling:

"If they’re so happy, wouldn’t they have a kid by now?"

The question hung in the air, mocking you. They didn’t know the truth—how could they? And yet, their words seemed to pierce through the mask you’d been wearing for so long.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The silence between you and Bucky was heavy, almost suffocating. You hadn’t said much since the shelter incident, and Bucky could sense your stress in the way you barely touched your food or drank any water. You sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the untouched plate in front of you.

Bucky watched you for a moment before stepping closer, his brow furrowing with concern. He gently touched your forehead, his fingers warm against your skin.

“You have a fever,” he said, his voice low with worry.

You immediately pulled away from his hand, your body instinctively recoiling. Your stress had a way of manifesting physically, and whenever you were overwhelmed, your body shut down. This was no different.

“Don’t touch me,” you muttered, your voice hollow.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew this would happen, knew how your body responded when you were pushed too far. Without a word, he slipped his arm around you, supporting you as he guided you toward your room. You didn’t resist, too tired to fight.

“Just leave,” you said once you reached your room, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Bucky ignored your words. He sat you down on the edge of the bed, gently lifting your feet into his lap. You stiffened in surprise as his hands began to massage your aching feet. The familiarity of the gesture caught you off guard—he used to do this all the time when you were together, especially on nights when you came home exhausted, too tired to even think.

Your face grew warmer, though not just because of the fever. The tension between the two of you was palpable, a mix of unresolved emotions and unspoken words hanging in the air. Bucky’s touch, once comforting, now felt like it held the weight of all the things left unsaid.

“I’ll bring the medicine,” he said after a few moments, his voice softer now.

You didn��t respond, too lost in the swirl of emotions flooding your mind. The way his hands moved, the care in his touch—it was all too familiar. It made your chest tighten with memories of when things weren’t this complicated.

As Bucky stood to leave, you finally spoke, your voice quiet and raw. “Why are you doing this?”

He paused, turning back to face you. “Because I care. I always do” His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it was as if the walls you’d built between you both cracked, if only just a little.

You didn’t respond, not knowing what to say. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day and the fever pulled at you. Bucky noticed, his eyes softening. Without another word, he pulled the blanket over you and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You lay there, your mind racing despite your body’s exhaustion. His touch, his words, they lingered long after he’d gone. You hated that he still had this effect on you. And yet, deep down, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him, wanted to let your guard down. But after everything, how could you?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You woke up, feeling the weight of exhaustion still clinging to your limbs, but something was different. The fever that had clouded your mind the night before was gone, leaving you with a sense of relief. Slowly, you sat up, glancing around the room. Bucky wasn’t here. It was the first time you’d been alone in the apartment since arriving.

The quietness felt strange, almost eerie. For a moment, you simply sat there, trying to shake the grogginess from your mind. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to explore the space. The apartment was large, meticulously designed, but there was a personal touch to it that reflected both of you. You wandered through the rooms until you stopped at his office.

The door creaked slightly as you pushed it open. His office was a mess—papers and law books were scattered across the desk and shelves, as if he’d been too busy to organize anything. But something caught your eye, an area that was surprisingly tidy amidst the chaos: his vinyl collection. It was neatly arranged, displayed with care, each record in perfect order.

Bucky loved collecting vinyls. You remembered that about him. As you approached the collection, your eyes scanned the spines of the records. Most of them were from artists both of you used to listen to. Your fingers grazed over the albums, a nostalgic pang in your chest.

Then, something unusual caught your attention. Tucked between the vinyl sleeves was a piece of paper, slightly worn. Frowning, you pulled it out and realized it wasn’t just any paper—it was a letter.

You stared at the handwriting, your heart skipping a beat. It was Bucky’s handwriting. Slowly, your eyes widened as recognition dawned on you. It was a letter he never sent. A letter to you.

Your pulse quickened as a rush of emotions hit you. Should you open it? Guilt twisted in your stomach, but then that familiar voice—the devil on your shoulder—spoke louder. He wrote this for you. He never sent it, but it’s yours.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you quickly hid the letter under your shirt, glancing around the office as if someone might walk in at any moment. Your heart raced as you hurried back to your room, the letter burning against your skin like a secret you weren’t supposed to know.

Once in the safety of your room, you sat on the bed, staring at the letter in your hands. The room felt smaller, your breaths shallow. Was this right? Should you be reading this? But you couldn’t stop yourself.

With trembling fingers, you opened the first letter.

It was short, written in Bucky’s familiar scrawl.

"I’m sorry. I know everything we went through must have been painful for you, more than I ever realized at the time. We were close, but we never truly communicated. I knew you were hurting, and I did nothing to stop it. That’s my fault. I’m the one to blame.

One day, if we ever meet again, I hope you’ll give me another chance. You deserve happiness, and I wish you the best of luck in finding it, even if it’s not with me."

You blinked, feeling a lump form in your throat. You hadn’t expected this. An apology. Words you thought you’d never hear—or read—from him. Your hands shook as you carefully unfolded another letter.

"I read your article. It’s really good. I always knew you’d make a great writer. You’ve always had a way with words. I’m proud of you. I hope you have a safe journey."

The words blurred for a moment as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You never knew he was following your work, that he cared enough to read what you wrote. It felt like a secret window into a part of him you thought had closed off to you long ago.

With a deep breath, you opened the final letter, bracing yourself.

"I’m worried about you. Going to a war zone as a journalist—it’s dangerous, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Please be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. I pray every day that you’re safe."

Your chest tightened as you finished reading, the rawness of his words washing over you. Bucky had been worried about you all this time. His concern, his pride—it was all there, hidden in these letters you were never supposed to find. And yet, here you were, holding the pieces of his heart in your hands.

It was overwhelming. You didn’t know how to feel—angry, confused, touched. All you knew was that the walls you had built to protect yourself were starting to crack, and you weren’t sure if you could put them back together.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You and Bucky met Greg again to prepare before heading to the TV station for the debate. Greg, always thinking ahead, was pacing as he went over the final details. His sharp gaze darted between you and Bucky, trying to ensure everything would go smoothly.

As the minutes ticked by, Greg suddenly paused, his face lighting up with an idea. "Perhaps," he suggested, "before Bucky heads out for the debate, you could give him a peck on the cheek. You know, for the cameras. A little show of affection can go a long way."

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, your expression neutral. "Okay," you agreed simply. The decision seemed easy enough—just a small gesture for the public eye. However, from the corner of your eye, you noticed Bucky’s brow arch slightly, a glint of surprise crossing his features.

Bucky glanced at you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "How about a kiss on the lips instead?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your exasperation. "Shut up," you muttered, though the warmth of the moment lingered between you. Bucky chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the brief banter as Greg scribbled down notes, already planning how to work this into the media strategy.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The day of the debate finally arrived. The room buzzed with tension as cameras were positioned, reporters whispered amongst themselves, and the stage was set. You stood backstage with Bucky, watching as the other candidates made their entrances. Edgar, running for president, was calm and composed, the very image of a seasoned politician.

Then there was Brock, another candidate for vice president—and Bucky’s long-time rival. The two had been at odds for years, their competition fierce and personal. The air between them crackled with animosity as they took their places.

As the debate began, the moderators threw sharp, pointed questions at the candidates, each probing their policies and character. Bucky was in his element, answering each question with practiced ease. His words were clear, his tone confident, and his delivery flawless. Every question thrown at him was met with a precise, well-thought-out response.

Moderator: "Mr. Barnes, what would be your first priority in office?"

Bucky: "My first priority is to address healthcare. Ensuring affordable and accessible healthcare is the cornerstone of a strong nation. We must invest in preventive care and make it easier for families to access the support they need."

The audience nodded in agreement, and even the other candidates seemed to respect his answer. Brock, however, was struggling. Every time he tried to match Bucky’s eloquence, he stumbled, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to make a point.

Moderator: "Mr. Rumlow, what is your stance on education reform?"

Brock: "Well, uh, we need to… to invest in schools, yes, but we can’t just throw money at the problem. We need accountability, and we need… um, better results."

His answer lacked the conviction and clarity that Bucky’s did, and you could see the frustration in Brock’s face as the debate went on.

The tension between the two men simmered, especially as Bucky continued to outshine him with every answer. But just when it seemed like Bucky had the upper hand, Brock saw an opening—and took it.

At the height of the debate, Brock's voice cut through the air, sharp and malicious. "You talk a lot about honesty and integrity, Barnes. But what about your brother? Didn’t he hit someone and never face any punishment?"

The room fell silent, a heavy, uncomfortable stillness filling the space. From your spot backstage, you could feel the tension roll off Bucky in waves. His muscles tensed beside you, his jaw clenched tight. This was his darkest family secret, one he’d hoped to keep buried. But now, here it was, dragged into the spotlight in front of a national audience.

Bucky’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing as he shot Brock a cold, hard glare. For a moment, it looked like Bucky might lose his composure. The silence stretched on, the entire room holding its breath, waiting for his response.

But then, with a deep breath, Bucky straightened, his voice steady but laced with restrained anger. "My brother's actions were reprehensible, and there is no excuse for them. But unlike my opponent, I believe in accountability—and my family has taken steps to address that privately. This debate is about the future of this country, not digging up personal attacks to avoid talking about real issues."

The room shifted as Bucky’s calm yet pointed response cut through the tension. Brock, visibly thrown by how easily Bucky had deflected his attack, fumbled for his next words, but the damage had been done. Bucky had taken control once again, leaving Brock at a loss.

Backstage, you watched the scene unfold, a mixture of relief and pride swelling within you. Bucky had handled the moment with grace.

But you knew you couldn’t rest. With Shawn’s dark secret now exposed, it meant that your marriage to Bucky could be the next scandal to surface.

Join the tag list:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@krissydclayton93

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lassie-bird

@bighappypiels

@buckitostan

@barnesxstan

@bada-lee-ily

@mrsstuckyboo

@florie1

@cjand10

@sidraaaaaaaaa

@aritoocute

@preeyansha

@mcira

@crazyunsexycool

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@vioplay19

@thebuckybarnesvault

@unaxv

@hzdhrtss

@blackbirdwitch22

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

@imrandomstuffsblog

@chimchoom

@wintrsoldrluvr

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@sebastians-love

@kythefangirl25

@mrsnikstan

@identity2212

@justsebstan

@clairoscharm

@billyseye

[suiana]

✎ yandere! loser headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, manipulation, delusional yandere, mentions of p0rn, slight nsfw, stockholm syndrome (?) etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! loser who's basically a shut in, rarely coming out of his apartment except for compulsory lessons at university. he's a huge loser, shit talking others during games, messy apartment, dark eye bag circles, always ordering delivery for his food... he's practically the embodiment of the word loser! if it weren't for his rich parents he would not survived a day past his 18th birthday.

✎ yandere! loser who sees you as his salvation, the only hope in his dark life. through your streams he found purpose in his life - to be with you. and when he found out you went to the same university as him? he just knew that you were meant to be with him! why else would you speak his username so lovingly every time he donates to you?

✎ yandere! loser who's obviously a big virgin. I mean, what would you expect from a guy who hasn't held a girl's hand since he was 5? plus he doesn't even come out of his apartment! the most experience he has is from the pornography he used to watch. don't worry! he doesn't watch it anymore! because now all he has to do is imagine you sucking him off and he cums instantly. he's a true loser. but he's your loser, yours! :D

✎ yandere! loser who stalks you both online and physically. at this point he knows more about you than all of your friends do, maybe even you yourself! he's also the type of guy to like something you posted 69 weeks ago just because he liked how you looked in it. but does one post from long ago matter when he literally spam likes everything you post?

✎ yandere! loser who tries to rizz you up with tips and tricks he read online from sites like Reddit. he read all those success stories in the Reddit comment section so surely it must work out for him too, right?! wrong. because when he tried to pin you against a wall and call you 'baby', you only snorted in laughter, calling him funny and walking off with your friends. why didn't it work?! it was from user @/masterrizzler3000 on Reddit so it should've worked! he's sad now :(

✎ yandere! loser who isn't actually that bad looking. if he put in some more effort into his appearance he would've been a solid 10/10 in your opinion. but unfortunately he doesn't and that brings him to a 6.5/10. don't worry, there's something about his loser self that makes him cuter :) and that's when you decided to give him a chance and go out with him. best worst mistake of your life.

✎ yandere! loser who's actually a pretty good gaslighter and manipulator, so good that you actually agreed to date him. though he isn't aware that he's actually manipulating you so to him, you're falling for him because you genuinely love him. looks like religiously watching monster and death note worked for him. and that kids, is the story of how I (21m) landed myself a solid 100/10 with my loser self!!! -him, probably.

✎ yandere! loser who believes wholeheartedly that you and him are meant to be. sure, you may be a little more lifeless than you used to be, he's not sure why, but you love him! you tell him that every morning after you wake up in his bed! the soft 'i love you's' and 'im yours' from your sweet mouth are practically proof that you love him too, right?! fret not, for he loves you too ♡

✎ "please! I'll die without you-! you... you won't let that happen, would you? haha... of course you won't. you love me after all ♡"

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[piedinthepiper]

Liked ★

Yandere!Seokjin x fem!reader

Summary: You liked him, liked as in past tense. Liked as in you didn’t like him anymore. He didn’t believe it for a second, and he’ll do anything to make you like him again.

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, Jin is kinda narcissistic?, he’s also mean and delusional, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, smut, drugging, implied kidnapping

Wc: 5.9k

A/n: based on this req! Love the idea, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

He met you through Jimin. You were one of Jimin’s best friends, it seemed like he had known you for a long time.

So who were he to ruin Jimin’s image of you, and tell him that you were just so annoying. You were pretty yes, but it was something about your laugh. Something about the way you talked. It just rubbed Jin the wrong way. There are some people you just don’t click with, he thought to himself. As he looked at you from across the table. Some people are just not meant to be friends, and that’s ok. The only problem is that Jimin brought you with him no matter what. It was always “can y/n come?”. He asked Jimin once why he brought you around all the time.

“She just broke up with her boyfriend. Cut her some slack man.”

He had answered. But it had been eight months. Which, in his opinion, was more than enough time to heal from a breakup. But you still showed up. Every. Single. Time.

“What are you going to order, Jin?”

You asked him, looking back at him from across the table. You were slightly blushing for some reason. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, waiting for his response. In all honesty, he had been too busy thinking about you, to even read the menu.

“I don’t know yet.”

He answered in a stern voice.

“I really like the lobster here, it’s really good.”

Jin almost rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Really? Well I guess I’ll order that!”

He said with an overly excited tone. Not being able to control the sarcasm in his voice. Thankfully the waiter came before you could answer him. Everyone started saying their order, before it was his turn.

“I’ll have the salmon.”

He said and looked briefly over at you. To see if you’d have a reaction. You looked puzzled down at the menu for a second.

“I’ll have the salmon as well.”

“Wait! Jin, wait for me!”

You yelled after him, trying to run in your high heels. He had finally been able to leave. And thankfully he was able to mostly converse with Namjoon during the dinner. He had almost made it into the taxi, but you caught him. He couldn’t just shut the door in your face. He’s not directly mean to you, at least he tries not to be directly mean to you. But god, you were so annoying! Why couldn’t you just take a hint and leave him alone?

“What?”

You were a little out of breath, and needed a moment to catch your breath before talking.

“I was just- I live on the way to your place. Maybe we could, you know, share a taxi?”

He mentally cursed himself for not shutting the door in your face. Cause now he had to actually be alone with you for at least 10 minutes.

“Oh come on, I’ll pay for myself don’t worry.”

You said when you saw him hesitating.

“Fine.”

He simply answered and jumped in the backseat. Not caring to find an excuse.

“So, did you have fun tonight?”

You asked him once the taxi started moving. He sighed. Now he had to small talk with you as well.

“Yeah it was alright.”

He shrugged. He could see in his peripheral view that you were looking at him.

“The salmon was so good! You were so right about that one.”

You tried again, once he didn’t take the conversation further.

“I didn’t say anything to you about it. You just copied me.”

You laughed, thinking that he was just joking.

“You’re so funny!”

You said in between laughs, and even went as far as leaning over him in a fit of laughter. He sat completely still. Not engaging with you what so ever. Once you realised, you sat back up.

“We should go out for dinner more together. I think it would-“

“Please y/n! Just shut the fuck up!”

He suddenly bursted out. He didn’t mean to. It just came out.

“You don’t have to talk all the time. You’re so annoying!”

He looked at you, your smile was no where to be seen. And for some reason he missed it already.

“I’m sorry.”

He quickly mumbled, hoping that your lips would turn at least a little bit upwards. But they didn’t. You looked away from him, turning your face completely towards the window. Your entire body was trying the get the furtherest away from him as possible, and it hurt him for some reason. He sighed. Your place was coming up, he would probably feel better once you left the car. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I talk so much because I like you, Jin.”

You said, barley above a whisper. He looked back at you. The taxi stopped, signalising for you to get out.

“I really liked you.”

You gave him a last devastating look before opening the door and stepping out. You shut the door in his face before he could answer. It didn’t matter, he was left speechless. And he did in fact not feel any better now that you left the car. He felt even worse.

“Liked” you said you “liked him”. As in past tense. As in you didn’t like him anymore. He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, and when he can’t sleep he starts thinking. It had been a week since the incident in the taxi. The incident where you said you “liked” him. Whatever that meant.

He would give you an apology next weekend. Pull you aside before you sit down at the table. Explain that he was just tired, that he didn’t mean it. In the moment he meant it, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He was amazed by the fact that he actually felt sorry for you. He didn’t like you, so why was he so obsessed with getting you to like him? Maybe he liked you more than he thought? Nah. He told himself before rolling over and closing his eyes. Trying to think of something or anything else.

Friday came around eventually, and he was ready to meet the boys (and you) at a restaurant. He walked in, a little earlier than usual. He had to pull you aside before you sat down, just so it didn’t get awkward.

“You’re early today, what’s up bro?”

Jimin lit up once he saw Jin approaching the table. He sat down beside Jimin, briefly looking at the empty seat next to him.

“Where’s y/n?”

He asked once he realised it was only the two of them. You always arrived with Jimin. He always picked you up, even if it was a longer route. Jin felt weird just thinking about it. What if Jimin had feelings for you? Why would he go to such lengths if he didn’t? The feeling in his chest couldn’t be described as anything but jealousy.

“She’s not feeling well.”

He simply commented.

“Why?”

He asked with a smug face, slightly poking him in the side with his elbow. Jin rolled his eyes, leaning away from him.

“She’s always with you, it’s not weird that I’m asking.”

He scolded his younger friend. Jimin stopped, but giggled slightly at his defensiveness.

“Whatever you say man.”

Jimin said, before changing the topic. Jin wondered if you truly was sick, or if you just didn’t want to face him. You didn’t strike him as a cowardly person. You would probably show up if you could. So the only explanation to why you wouldn’t show up to hear his apology, must be that you were sick of course.

But two weeks after that, you didn’t show. Two months passed and still no sign of you. Jin wanted to ask Jimin, but he didn’t want Jimin to think he actually cared. But he did care. He wanted to apologise for being a dick, that’s all. His conscience needed to be cleared for him to move on. At least that’s what he told himself. The first weekend after the two month mark, (not that he kept track of the time or anything), the boys went to watch a football game. It was weird that you didn’t show, considering that you loved football. You wouldn’t miss out. So Jin decided to ask again.

“Is y/n still sick? Did she fucking break her leg or something?”

He asked Jimin once they had found their places.

“I don’t know man. I asked her if she wanted to come, she said she was going with someone else.”

He said and shrugged. Someone else? Why was he hurt that you would rather go with someone else?

“Ok, I’ll go get a beer. Anyone want one?”

Namjoon was the only one who raised a hand, small excuses of work in the morning was heard from the others. He squeezed out of the row of seats. He needed to clear his head, he had to stop this obsession he had with you. After the game he would call you, and if you didn’t pick up he would go to your house. Enough was enough, he had to see you.

“Jin?”

Your voice made him turn around. There you were, two beers in hand and the familiar blue shirt of your favourite team. Your hair was in a ponytail, so he could clearly see your entire face. And you were smiling. Smiling at him like what happened two months and a week ago was ancient history.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

He mentally face palmed himself for asking something so obvious. You looked down at your shirt and back up at him.

“The same reason you are, I suppose.”

He laughed awkwardly, before you both went quiet.

“Look, y/n. I just wanted to ap-“

“Hey, babe. I’ll hold these for you.”

A man’s voice interrupted him. He looked at the man who approached you take your beers. You looked at him as well before looking back to Jin.

“I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend Hoseok.”

Jin was left speechless at your choose of words to describe the man. You had a boyfriend now?! The feeling of jealousy started to spread through his chest again.

“This is Jin, Jimin’s friend.”

You told this Hoseok, when he didn’t answer. Jimin’s friend? That was it? He was offended by the fact that you didn’t view him as more. You had a crush on him for gods sake!

“I’d shake your hand man, but you know.”

He raised the beers in his hand awkwardly. Jin still kept quiet. Not wanting to utter a simple word to the man you dared calling your boyfriend.

“I’ll catch up with you, just go back to the seats, ok?”

You told your boyfriend, and he happily complied walking away from the uncomfortable situation.

“Why are you acting so strange?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. I just- I thought you had a crush on me. But now you have a boyfriend, so.”

You smiled at him.

“I liked you, yeah. But after you rejected me in that taxi, I moved on. It’s not that deep, some people just don’t click.”

His stomach turned into knots, he hated the way you sounded like him. He hated the way you spoke about him. That it wasn’t that deep? Well, it was really deep to him. Extremely deep actually.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am. I should’ve never said those things to you.”

He managed to apologise, regardless of the burning anger he felt inside. How dared you reject him? He rejected you first.

“Jin, it’s ok. Seriously. It’s all in the past.”

You patted his shoulder before taking a step away from him.

“Tell the boys I said hi.”

You said before walking away. This was not how this was going to end. He had spent two months and a week thinking about exactly how you would respond, and what would happen after. You were not supposed to be so nonchalant and run away to your new boyfriend. You were supposed to accept his apology and run into his arms. Maybe even give him a kiss and a blowjob for his effort to be so empathetic. He was going to make things right.

He couldn’t sleep again. How could he after you basically dumped him? So he started thinking. Why would you do such a thing? Why would you hurt him? He knows that he hurt you, but he apologised. So you should stop whatever prank you got going on and come back to the group. Come back to him. He really didn’t know why he felt this need for you. Before all this he literally couldn’t stand you. But now it’s like he yearned for you. And it was baffling to him that you didn’t feel the same.

Maybe you were just using that Hoseok guy to make him jealous. Yeah, that’s it. This was your payback. He laughed at the thought and sat up in his bed. Turning on the lamp on his nightstand. Might as well pay you a visit.

He payed the taxi driver before closing the door carefully. It was the middle of the night, not a soul to see in your neighbourhood. He looked up at your apartment building, he knew you lived on the seconds floor. The light in your living room was on. He quickly looked down at his phone. 02:38 am. You should’ve been asleep already.

He walked over to the other side of the road to get a better view of your living room. Trying to get a glimpse of you in your natural habitat. And to his surprise you were there. Completely naked. He felt a familiar feeling in his groin once he saw what was going on behind those walls. You were on the sofa on top of your new boyfriends dick. Your back was turned towards the window, giving Jin a perfect view of your ass bouncing up and down. Jin ripped his eyes away from you to check if anyone else was seeing this. But no lights were on, and no bystanders. What a freak you were, having sex right in front of a window where anyone could see.

Or maybe you were doing it for him? The curtains were slightly open, just enough open for him to see you. Maybe you didn’t shut them completely, for him? Maybe you hoped he would show up after the two of you met the same day? It was working for him. Mesmerised by the way your body moved in pleasure, he slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t help himself. You looked so good, and you were so perfectly placed that he could see the dick going in and out of you. His only wish was hearing you. He wanted to hear you moan so bad. Suddenly you slowed down. Jin’s hand moved faster, trying to reach release before the show was over. Just one last bounce before you sank down beside him. Now facing the window. He continued, now seeing your heaving naked chest sprawled out on the sofa. He was close, very close. And once he saw you get up and walk towards the window completely naked, body glistening, tits slightly bouncing, he couldn’t help but feel a euphoric release.

Reality hit him immediately after. In the time it took for him to ride out his orgasm, you had made it to the window. Now staring directly at him. He quickly pulled his hand out of his trousers, turning around to face the wall immediately. The sticky wet spot that made the fabric of his pyjamas stick to his skin, was a shameful reminder. He didn’t know if you had seen him. He didn’t know if you were calling the police, or still looking at him. But he stood completely still, awaiting his destiny. After a few minutes he pulled his phone up from his pocket, calling for a taxi back to his place.

It wasn’t until he heard the taxi pull up he dared turning around. His eyes flickered up to the window. No sight of you, no sight of nothing. The curtains were shut completely this time.

It was Saturday, Jimin had invited the boys to his house for a few drinks and some food. Jin hadn’t gotten drunk in some time and quite frankly needed it to forget whatever madness happened the weekend before. So he gladly accept once Jimin proposed the idea in the group chat. Something he would regret.

“Can you get the door? I can’t let this burn man.”

Jimin asked and pointed to whatever he was making on the stove. Jin, being the first to show up that night was more than happy to welcome one of his mates, and walked over to the door.

“Jin! It’s so nice to see you again.”

You said and gave him a small hug as you stepped into Jimin’s apartment. He was left speechless. By you, but also by the man that followed you inside. You brought your boyfriend?

“Hey man!”

Hoseok said and stretched out his hand for him to shake. Jin just stood there looking at his hand. He couldn’t move. Too terrified that this was your way of revenge. You were going to expose him as the creep that jerked off outside your house to all his friends. And on top of that you brought your boyfriend to rub it even more in his face.

“You know what, I’m a hugger anyways.”

Hoseok laughed and pulled him in to a tight hug once he didn’t shake his hand. Once he pulled away from the hug, Jin smiled at him. He couldn’t risk getting on the bad side of Hoseok either. Maybe you told him?

“Sorry, Hoseok right?”

He asked and took his hand in his. Your boyfriend chuckled and nodded. What a ray of fucking sunshine of a boyfriend you got. Not completely different to himself, he thought.

“Oh please, just call me Hobi!”

He smiled before walking past Jin and following you inside. Jin continued to stand by the door for a second as he heard both you and your boyfriend greet Jimin in the kitchen. He had to talk to you. He had to pull you aside before you got the chance to reveal his big dirty secret. The boys would think he was disgusting, a creep, a weirdo. What the hell was he doing here? He had to run away. Run far far away and never come back.

“Are you ok?”

He got ripped out of his thoughts and realised the tall figure standing in front of him.

“Ah, Namjoon. You scared me.”

He tried to play off. As if he wasn’t standing in front of the open entrance door just staring out into the hallway.

“I’m ok yeah, but what about you? What have you been up to?”

He said and threw his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders, leading him into the apartment.

“Woah, ok. It’s only been a week since we last saw each other.”

An hour had passed. You still hadn’t said anything. Not even mentioned that night. He had taken a few shots out of agony and suspense. He couldn’t get drunk. No, not while you were a ticking bomb ready to ruin his image forever. He had to stay sober so he could defend himself whenever the situation arose. Or if he was lucky enough to get you alone so he could convince you, hell maybe even beg for you not to say anything. He would do anything for you. For you not to say anything, of course.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

You announced, slightly intoxicated. You were so cute, your face a little red and your words a little slow.

“I have to go to the bathroom too!”

Jin quickly said, getting up quickly. The room got quiet. He realised he had said that a little loud and with a little too much excitement.

“Ok.”

You shrugged, walking away from the table. Everyone started talking again, meaning he was in the clear. He stumbled after you.

“After you, princess.”

You said as you proudly held the bathroom door open for him. He would’ve smiled at your joke if this wasn’t a serious situation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go first.”

You mumbled and started unbuttoning your trousers. He nodded. He didn’t even have to pee.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“I’m not drunk enough to pee while you’re watching me.”

He panicked at your words and didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh- uh. Do you want me to leave?”

You laughed.

“No silly. Just turn around.”

He did as instructed.

“I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve never done that! Please, just don’t tell the others y/n. I won’t recover from it.”

He started pleading, still facing the door. You went quiet for a few seconds. He gulped, anxious of what you would answer.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You said and flushed the toilet. He turned around knowing you were finished. You were struggling with the button of your jeans, but looking at him with a confused look.

“Are you playing with me? Please if you are, don’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

You started washing your hands.

“No, Jin. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is this about that time in the taxi again? Cause I told you it’s ok.”

“No. I mean- uh. Yes?”

He didn’t know what to say. Did you really mean it? Had you not seen him that night? A wave of relief washed over him. If you were telling the truth he was the luckiest man alive.

“What?”

“It’s about last weekend.”

He tested, seeing if you would remember.

“And?”

You asked puzzled. He let out a breath of relief. You were completely clueless.

“I didn’t mean to be so awkward with your- ehhh, Hobi.”

He managed to get out, not wanting to call him your boyfriend out loud. Now that he wasn’t caught and labelled a total pervert, he still had a chance to win you back.

“My Hobi, huh? You’re cute Jin.”

You said as you unlocked the door.

“You’re forgiven by the way.”

You closed the door behind you, and he quickly locked it. He had never felt more relieved in his entire life. Maybe you weren’t looking at him, maybe you were just looking around to see if anyone saw? And maybe he was fortunate enough to be well enough hidden that night to not get caught. Well, he knew he would be more careful the next time. He shook his head, baffled by his own words. The next time? He thought as he flushed the toilet. He didn’t understand what he felt towards you, but he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted the next time to be him underneath you, not your stupid boyfriend. He unlocked the door and started walking down the hallway. He didn’t want to admit it to himself before, but maybe he actually liked you. Like, liked liked you. He sat back down at the table. Taking another shot now that he could actually get drunk.

“Ooo, where are you going?”

Jimin asked you. Jin hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation, but pretended he had been here the entire time.

“This very fancy spa hotel. He said it was an early birthday present.”

You said and looked lovingly at your boyfriend.

“Wow, you’re lucky! You must really love her, Hobi!”

“You’re leaving?”

Jin asked you, ignoring Jimin’s hilarious comment, and quite honestly he didn’t want to hear Hobi’s answer to that. You nodded.

“Yeah, next Friday.”

He took another shot, drowning the jealousy that was starting to bubble inside him.

“I just don’t know what to do with the cats. I’ve asked a bunch of people, but everyone’s busy.”

“I’ll watch them!”

Jin blurted out, almost too excited.

“Are you sure? I’ll pay you if you want to-“

“No, no need to pay me. Don’t have anything happening next weekend anyways.”

“Weren’t you going out of town to see your parents next weekend?”

Namjoon asked with confused brows. Jin mentally cursed him for almost ruining his plan.

“No, that’s the weekend after. I’m completely free next weekend, ready to watch some cats.”

You smiled at him, he had missed that smile so much. To ever think that he didn’t like your smile was insane. What was even more insane was the fact that he blindly said yes to watch your cats, just to be in your house. But he’ll happily feed those little fuckers if it meant that he had full access to your home.

“Again, thank you so much. You’re a life saver!”

You yelled out the window of your car as you and your boyfriend drove away. He waved goodbye as he watched the car slowly disappear in the horizon. Once you were gone he hurried into your apartment, ready to snoop around. He only did it to get to know you more of course. He wanted to know every single little thing about you that only your home could reveal. He sat down on the sofa on the exact spot where he saw you have sex. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers, thinking of that night. He slowly laid down face first, wanting to be close to the spot where you sat completely naked. He rubbed his cheek on it, slightly smelling hints of your perfume. He could stay like that forever. Just frolicking in your scent.

But one of your cats jumped up beside his face, ruining the moment. He got up, annoyed at the grey fluffy animal. He silently pushed the cat off, but when it once again jumped up beside him he decided to look around somewhere else.

He found the bathroom, opening up the cupboard next to the mirror. Some makeup, some skin care, tweezers, tampons. Nothing exciting. He opened the door to your shower, nothing but numerous soaps. He looked over at the bin for a second and wondered if he was willing to go that low. Once he saw your dirty laundry he decided against it. He opened the lid and started digging, a mixture of your perfume and your natural scent hit him. He had never been happier. He suddenly stopped and pulled out a singular thong. It was baby pink with lace. He imagined how good you would look in it. He stuffed it in his hoodie, deciding to venture off to your bedroom.

He immediately opened the nightstand, hoping for something good. And you delivered. Toys of all kinds in different flashy colours. He smiled as he picked up the hot pink dildo. He wondered if you ever thought of him while using it. The thought alone making his pants feel tighter. He walked back to the sofa, he knew what he wanted to do now.

Jin was watching tv in your house once he heard the door open. He knew you would be arriving that day, so he managed to be on his best behaviour and not jerk off in every room of your apartment that day. Small things to make you happy. He quickly got up to welcome you.

“You got home quite late, I was starting to worry.”

No he wasn’t, he knew exactly at what time you would be home. He found a copy of your reservation at the hotel and calculated the time it took for you to get here. But he wanted you to know that he cared.

“No need, I’m home.”

You gave him a forced smile. Something was wrong. A feeling of excitement rushed through him. You came home alone, did this mean that-? Did you really break up with Hobi? He held back a smile.

“Here let me help you.”

He said and reached for your suitcase. Your grip tightened.

“No it’s fine.”

You simply said and rolled it into your apartment. He headed you sigh. He wanted to wait a little longer to see if you would break. Hoping that you would tell him the good news and not let the suspense kill him.

“Can we talk?”

You asked and looked back at him, removing your coat. He nodded understandingly as he took your coat before you could protest and hung it up. You walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Putting your head in your hands.

“Do you want something to drink? I can make you-“

“No, Jin. Please just sit down.”

You were visibly upset, so he followed up on your request. Sitting down opposite of you. You took a few seconds before you started talking.

“Do you care to explain why you did what you did while I was gone?”

You asked and looked up at him. He froze. This was not the good news he was expecting. This wasn’t happening. How could you know?

“What are you talking about?”

He said and tried to laugh it off. You shook your head.

“So you’re telling me you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You asked strictly. He gulped.

“No, y/n. I’ve just been watching your cats. Did I do something wrong?”

You let out another sigh before you pulled up your phone. You touched the screen a few times before your turned it around, showing him exactly what you were talking about. He watched in horror as he saw himself in your bed with his hand around his dick. The other hand was holding your underwear under his nose.

“There are many more of these videos.”

You said as you retracted your phone.

“I don’t need to see them.”

He quickly answered as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Fine, but I want to know why, Jin.”

His mind was racing. How the fuck was he supposed to dig himself out of this one? You had physical proof now. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

“I didn’t know I was being filmed.”

He muttered as a poor excuse.

“Me neither. I set those cameras up when I didn’t think I would find someone to watch the cats. Unfortunately for you I forgot to take them down.”

He went silent again, slipping his hands into his deep pockets. Feeling around, trying to come up with a solution.

“Please tell me you have a logical explanation for all this. Why did you masturbate every single day with my stuff while I was gone?”

You seemed more upset that you couldn’t make any sense out of it, compared to what he actually did. Maybe if he just confessed you would forgive him.

“I like you, y/n. No, I actually think I love you. I’m in love with you.”

He blurted out. You were taken aback at his sudden honesty.

“I don’t understand why, I used to hate you. I never liked you. But ever since the incident in the taxi I haven’t been able to take my mind off you.”

He reached for your hand over the table, but you quickly pulled away.

“I love you, y/n!”

“So why didn’t you tell me? Why did you do this instead? You realise how fucking crazy you sound right now, right?”

You snapped back at him. Coughing slightly afterwards at your sudden outburst.

“Let me make you a cup of tea, it’ll help with that cough.”

He said calmly. You shook your head.

“I don’t want tea, I want you to leave my house right now!”

“Please, can we just talk about this like adults? I don’t want to fight with you.”

You stopped, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Let me put the kettle on, and I’ll tell you everything. Just please, I care about you.”

You touched your throat as you slowly nodded. He quickly got up and started the kettle.

“I did it because I didn’t want to ruin your relationship. I saw how happy you were with Hobi. I thought this was my only way to be close to you.”

He tried his best to get you to feel sorry for him. He knew you would be much better off with him than that excuse of a boyfriend you had. He just wanted to pull on your heartstrings. Even if it was completely a lie.

“I just- sorry. I’m sorry. But I’m crazy about you, y/n. I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know what to do.”

You looked down at the table as he prepared your tea.

“Do you want sugar and milk?”

He asked carefully.

“Just sugar.”

You answered after a few beats of silence. You were clearly fighting some sort of mental battle. But it was alright, he was going to make that decision for you.

“I really care about you. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you, I know. But I want to make it up to you.”

He placed the tea on the table before you. You stirred it a couple of times as you waited for the tea to get ready.

“It’s just really uncomfortable, Jin. Yes I used to have a crush on you but that doesn’t give you the right to do such things.”

You scolded him as you brought the cup to your mouth slightly blowing at the hot beverage.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

He said and bowed his head in fake defeat. This wasn’t his loss. Sooner than later you would be his.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I need time to think about all this. It’s all too much for me right now.”

You took a sip, feeling the sweet warm drink soothe your sore throat. You immediately took another big sip to get the feeling back.

“I get it. I’ll give you all the time you need when we get to your new home.”

He said bluntly. You crossed your eyebrows at his comment.

“My new home?”

He nodded.

“You’ll love it there. Just you and me. We can spend as much time as you’d want to heal all the shitty things I’ve done to you.”

You shook your head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

You felt your sight getting blurry, your body suddenly felt really heavy.

“What- what have you done to me?”

You slurred as you fell back in your chair. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself loosing control of your body.

“It’s ok, baby.”

Jin got up from his chair and walked over to you. In your last efforts you slung yourself off the chair and onto the floor, trying to crawl away from him.

“I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I’m sure you’ll forgive me once you realise what an amazing life we’ll have together.”

He bowed down and grabbed you. Making you look at him. Finally you would be his and his only.

“Fuck you.”

You managed to say before the drugs made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. You looked beautiful, he thought. Like sleeping beauty just waiting for him to save you. It would probably take some time for you to forgive him, but like he said, he would give you all the time you needed. And eventually you would realise that you were made for each other. He would make sure of that.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[rambling-at-midnight]

Second Chances (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne & Reader

Summary: Your and Jason’s relationship gets off to a rocky start in that, well... it doesn't have a chance to start, because the whole universe is conspiring against Jason. Everything comes to a head when a particle collider in STAR Labs malfunctions.

Word count: 5.8k

Six days after Jason discovered your regeneration abilities finds him waiting at a coffee shop at 8:53 a.m. He anxiously checks his watch again. You agreed to meet at 9, which really means you’ll be there by 9:10. He didn’t want to drink his coffee too quickly (how long did coffee dates last? He looked it up online and the results were inconclusive) so he drank a cup at home before leaving to sate the caffeine addiction every vigilante in Gotham suffered from.

It hadn’t made him more alert. Just more jittery.

Jason’s knee jogs beneath the table. It felt too high school prom to ask what you planned on wearing beforehand, so he used his best judgment (Damian would say Jason’s judgment was never good, but what did Damian know) and wore his only pair of jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. He knows a suit is too formal for a coffee date, and his usual sweats or gymwear is too casual. You’ve seen him in all kinds of clothing, so his appearance barely even matters, but at this point he’s going to sweat through the t-shirt before you even get here.

Instead of fiddling with his clothes, Jason combs his bangs back again.

As he walked through the door, Jason’s stomach had flipped like it was freefalling. A hundred little thoughts occurred to him, like, What if the shop’s closed today or What if this is the only coffee shop in Gotham that requires formalwear?

All his fears were unfounded. In the corner, a hipster wearing a fedora sips on his iced macchiato. Two tables down is a gaggle of GCU students that look like they’re cramming for finals. No one even looked over when he sat down to reserve this table for the two of you. It’s right next to the big ornamental bookshelf in the back of the shop, so hopefully you two will have a little more privacy.

Everything should be fine.

Everything is fine.

Jason checks his watch again: 9 a.m. sharp.

Shit. Should he order you a coffee before you get here? Is that presumptuous? Jason knows your usual order, but what if you have a different one here? What if you’re running even later than normal and by the time you get here all the ice is melted and you drink sad, watery coffee to make him feel better?

He should order your drink. Or maybe he should let you order your drink, and he should buy your pastry. Jason stands, then checks his phone to see if you’ve texted. You haven’t.

There’s no line, so he has no time to ponder the decision. When the barista asks what he wants, Jason panics and orders two drinks and two pastries. He saw something on the internet the other day about how women don’t like that anymore because then they feel obligated to stay at the date, but you know that he won’t pressure you, right? Like, sure, he’s never been in a relationship before, and Jason’s pretty sure he’s been in love with you since before he died, and he also wouldn’t be mad if you moved into his apartment tomorrow and never left, but he doesn’t have any expectations for today.

He thinks you two are compatible. Jason hopes so.

He checks his watch again: 9:04. A terrible thought occurs to him. What if you sleep through your alarm and never show up?

At 9:07, Jason’s order is ready, and when he turns around with two drinks and a bag of pastries in his hands, someone says, “Hi,” at his elbow.

Jason is a highly trained vigilante. The sight of him makes criminals crap their pants. He’s mastered over twenty styles of combat.

Jason jumps and drops the coffees.

Because you’re also a highly trained vigilante, you catch them without a drop spilling. “Hi, Jay,” you say again, eyes crinkling with your smile. You look… nice. More than nice. Just like you’ve seen Jason dressed any way, he’s seen you wear anything, and you never look anything less than perfect. But he appreciates that you put in the effort today.

Jason swallows. “H—” His voice cracks. “Hey, Y/N.” He cringes internally. So smooth.

You check the labels on both drinks and tape a sip of the one for you. “Thanks for ordering. Sorry I was late. Wanna sit down?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Jason. He sits in the chair across from you, then feels awkward with his hands. Should he put them in his lap? Keep them in sight?

You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease. Your eyes flick over him as you take another sip of coffee. Jason’s whole body flushes at your examination. He busies himself with his drink.

After about thirty full seconds of silent coffee drinking, you tilt your head and ask, “So how have you been?”

“Good,” Jason says. “I’ve been—good. You know. Recovering.” Internally, he curses his twisted tongue. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” you reply. Take another sip of coffee. Maybe you’re just as nervous as he is.

Jason nods. “That’s good.”

After another brief silence, you sigh and lean forward. Your eyes sparkle, like you’re trying to share a secret just between the two of you. “This is awkward, isn't it?”

Oh, God. You’re about to tell Jason that you two are better off as friends. “I mean, first dates are supposed to be a little awkward, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes, but because you’re essentially meeting a stranger. We’re not strangers, though. I know basically everything about you, and you know all about me.”

“Oh.” The thought of meeting up with a stranger to establish a relationship doesn’t appeal to Jason, honestly. He doesn’t think he could ever love someone he didn’t know. He doesn’t think he could love anyone more than you.

You cover your mouth with one hand. “Holy shit. I totally forgot. This is your first ever date, isn’t it?”

Jason feels his cheeks flush scarlet. “Well, technically, but—”

“Yeah, hanging out with Janie Morris in the library in seventh grade doesn’t count.” You wave your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m totally ruining your first first date.”

“I wouldn’t call this ruined,” says Jason. He asks hesitantly, “Would… would you?”

You smile sweetly. “No. I’ve just never gone on a date with someone I liked this much. I’m a little nervous.”

Jason’s stomach flips. He opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of gagging cuts him off.

Damian and his friend, the youngest Kent kid, stand in line for coffee behind an absolute dickhead wearing a Blüdhaven police officer uniform. Dickhead has his back turned to you, ordering for the ungrateful kids, and Damian’s lip is curled while Jon Kent has his tongue out and finger pointed at his mouth, pretending to retch.

“What are you doing here?” you and Jason ask at the same time, but with vastly different tones.

As soon as he pays, Dickhead turns around and grins brightly. “Hey, guys! So you’re the reason Dami insisted on getting coffee before school.”

“Did Alfred give permission for that?” you ask.

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets and whistles. Damian suddenly finds the ceiling very intriguing.

Jason checks his watch. “He’s going to be late,” he says pointedly.

Dick shrugs. “That’s okay. I was late almost every day to Gotham Academy.”

“Yes, because you were a teenage delinquent. Those of us that actually care about our academics—”

As Jason continues to argue with Dick, Damian turns to you and says plainly, “You could do so much better, Y/N.”

“Come here, Dami.” You beckon him forward, and he sidles over reluctantly. You rub at his cheek with your sleeve. Gently, quietly, so he isn’t embarrassed, you chide, “That’s not a nice way to talk about your brother.”

Damian scowls. “He is not—”

Suddenly, the cash register topples over, pushed out of the way by Kite Man’s expanding kite.

You shove the kids behind you. Jason shoves you behind him. Dick shoves all of you behind himself.

Kite Man shouts at the underpaid barista, “What do you mean no one ordered my special drink this week?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the barista says. “Nobody wants green raspberry lattes.”

“Green raspberry?” Jason asks in disbelief. “Does that even exist?”

Kite Man whirls around. “Yes, it does, and it’s fabulous!” He stands in front of the door and shouts, “Nobody leaves until you all have tried my signature drink!”

Well, of all Gotham’s rogues, Kite Man is relatively harmless. It’s probably easier to just try the drinks and tell him that it tastes good instead of fighting.

Judging by the look on your and Dick’s faces—mutual exasperation—you’re all on the same page.

Unfortunately, the hipster in the corner doesn’t agree. He throws his fedora on the ground and raises his fist in the air. Presumably he has something motivational to say about nonconformity or whatever they care about nowadays. Unfortunately, the shop’s glass windows shatter, and four men with Penguin masks and large guns enter.

“Hey!” Kite Man complains. “I was in the middle of holding these people hostage!”

A squat figure waddles into view. “Fly away now, little birdie, or you’ll find yourself between my minions and a hard place.”

Kite Man shakes his head. “Just because you buy into your bird theme doesn’t mean we all have—”

One of the goons cocks his gun.

“Fine,” he huffs, “I’m going. But I’m telling everyone that you stole my heist.”

Cobblepot rolls his eyes. “You do that.”

Clothes rustle behind Jason, and when he glances over his shoulder, your date clothes have been replaced by your Ghoul costume. How did you even do that?

The Ghoul mask has no visible eyes, but Jason sometimes thinks he can see yours through it. “Get down.”

“Ghoul—”

“All right!�� Cobblepot shouts. “Everyone, hands up and wallets out. As long as you’re smart birdies, I’ll let you all fly the coop.”

“Speaking of flying, has anyone here ever seen a flying idiot before?”

Cobblepot pauses. Everyone slowly looks up, and up, until they see you perched on top of the ornamental bookshelf.

“They’re about to,” growls one of the goons. He raises the barrel of his gun, but you’re already jumping to avoid the spray of bullets, feet out and aimed right for Cobblepot’s middle.

The force of your jump sends him across the shop. You land much more gracefully, put your hands on your hips, and say happily, “Now everyone has.”

The goons open fire.

Jason flips the table up, then crouches behind it. He pulls Damian down and curls around his soft human body. The Kryptonian kid will be fine. In fact, he’s in front of Dick, doing his best to use his invulnerable skin to deflect any bullets that fly in their direction.

Jason’s teeth grind. He hadn’t brought his helmet because he’s an idiot. There are a couple knives tucked into his left boot, and one handgun hidden in his right, but bullets spew so heavily over their heads that he doesn’t think he can join the fight without his armor.

Bodies hit bodies and people grunt. A man grunts, and you cry out. You grunt, and one of the men cries out.

Dickhead finally does his job. He twists around, face twisted into a snarl, and tackles someone out of sight.

“It’s Signal!” one of the goons screams.

Jason squeezes his eyes shut and covers Damian’s when the force of the sun lights up the room. Judging by a couple screams, the goons weren’t so smart.

When Jason straightens up, two of the goons roll around on the ground, clutching their faces and screaming about going blind. Dick has the other two handcuffed, and Signal has Cobblepot pinned.

Where are you?

Jason scans the entire shop, but he doesn’t see you.

“Todd!” Damian tugs his hand. “This way.”

Jason lets the kid steer him through the shop and out the back door. After a second, he realizes that the kid is following a trail of blood.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You’re in the alley behind the coffee shop, wedged between two dumpsters. Judging by the smear of blood in front of the one meant for recycling, you collapsed in front of it, then dragged yourself between the two to hide. Blood stains your pale suit from the trail of bullets in your stomach. One of the goons managed to hit you with at least seven. They’re all in a straight line across, too, and Jason would admire the marksmanship if it didn’t mean you’re bleeding out in the middle of an alley.

You rip the fabric of your suit until the torn skin is visible. Then you reach into one wound with your bare fingers. Sharp, pained gasps escape your mouth, sounds that would be screams had you more strength.

You pull out one bullet. It rolls away underneath the dumpster.

Jason drops to his knees. As much as he knows, intellectually, that you won’t die, it’s something else entirely to watch you bleed out. “Ghoul?”

Your helmet lolls. You cough, and red stains your mask from the inside out. “Hey, Jace. Sorry. Give me a sec.”

Damian pushes past Jason. You manually push your legs out of the way so he can crouch next to you, ignoring the puddle of blood growing around his shoes. They’re black, so the stains won’t be visible.

“Hey, bud,” you say weakly. “You okay?”

Damian nods. “I am fine.”

“Fucking Gotham,” you mutter. “Not even nine-thirty…”

Someone gasps behind Jason. He whirls around, ready to defend you when you’re unable to.

Dickhead has one hand over his mouth and another over Jon’s eyes, even though the alien can probably see right through his fingers. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“S’okay,” you say. Try to give them all a thumbs-up. “They nicked my spine, actually, so I can’t feel anything.” You cough again, make a choking sound, and go limp.

Jason feels it when you die. His heart twinges, and everything in his vision goes half a shade grayer. There’s less color when you aren’t in the world.

“Oh, my God.” Dick pulls on his hair. “Oh, my God, they’re dead.”

Jason tilts his head. “You don’t know?” He looks at Damian. “He doesn’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“Ghoul’s healing abilities are more advanced than we were led to believe,” Damian says briskly. He pulls tweezers out of somewhere and roots around in your wounds, extracting each small bullet with expert precision.

“Dami, stop that,” Dick says. He pulls out his phone. “We need to call someone. Jason, you stop Damian—”

“He has to remove the bullets before they can heal around them,” Jason says.

Dick stops dialing whatever number he’d thought of. He stares at Jason. “What? Jay, Ghoul’s—”

“Dead.” Jason’s mouth is sticky around the word. “Yeah, I know. But not for long.”

“Whoa,” breathes Jon. “I can see them healing.”

“Okay, someone had better explain to me what’s going on right now.”

Jason opens his mouth to, but then you suck in a deep breath and sit up, patting your stomach to check that you’re intact again.

And. Well. That pretty much explains it all.

You and Jason try to plan a makeup first date four days after, just a quick lunch on your work break, but that’s interrupted by a last-minute order, and you cancel when Jason’s already outside the building with flowers in hand. Then you stop by Jason’s apartment for a bookshop trip, but find him passed out on the ground from several stab wounds, and ‘patching Jason’s wounds and ordering takeout’ doesn’t quite count as a first date. Every time Jason visits, Damian is already there with a smug smile to belittle everything he says. Your relationship deserves a proper first date, with nice clothes and the right setting, and he can’t do that simple thing for you.

Two weeks go by, and Jason still can’t take you out on a proper date. The whole universe, and especially Damian Wayne, are conspiring against him.

But tonight will be the night. Tonight, Jason set up a (fake, he doesn’t want to set the whole building on fire) candlelit dinner in his apartment. Tim has been thoroughly bribed to keep Damian busy no matter what, Cass and Babs are handling Crime Alley, and Nightwing is patrolling your usual stomping grounds. Bruce accepted all this as measures to keep Gotham nightlife on its toes, so Jason doesn’t expect any issues from him.

Tonight, nothing will go wrong.

Only two minutes after the arranged meet time, you knock on his front door, and Jason trips in his haste to answer it. He almost brings down the entire table, but his hand narrowly misses hitting the edge. Jason catches himself against the wall and wrenches the door open.

“Hey, Jay,” you beam. You’re dressed somewhat nice, not that Jason’s complaining, but now he feels overdressed in his button down. At least his feet are bare. Speaking of, where are his socks?

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, I—”

You stop short at the sight of the dinner. Jason swallows. Is it too fancy?

Then you snort.

Jason’s chest hurts.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “Just—I didn’t think you were the kind of guy to celebrate every milestone.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, this is our two-week anniversary, right?” You step further into the room and shed your jacket. “It’s sweet, Jay, really, but it’s really not necessary. Between the two of us, I’ll probably forget our one-year anniversary, so at least you’re good with dates.”

“Hang on,” Jason interrupts. “What do you mean, it’s our two-week anniversary?”

“Um, yeah?” You give him a weird look. “It’s been two weeks since we started dating. Or did I get the dates wrong?”

“We’re dating?” Jason squeaks.

You squint, open your mouth, and check the date on your phone. You close your mouth and say hesitantly, “Aren’t we?”

“You never told me that!”

“I didn’t realize it needed to be said!”

Jason splutters. Of course it needed to be said! “I never asked you to be my partner!”

“Well, duh, but you asked me out and brought flowers to my work.” You put a hand on your hip and pop it out. “I thought we would work out the details later. Look, am I wrong? Did I interpret this all wrong?”

Jason could rip his own hair out. “I’ve been trying to take you on one good date this whole time!”

Your face is blank for a while. Then you cover your mouth too late to hide your snort. “Sorry, sorry.” Your hands flap in the air, then you give him an apologetic look and set them straight at your side. “I’m being serious. Just, hon, what about the other dates weren’t good?”

Jason bluescreens at the nickname. He’s not sure how long he stares at you, but once his brain reboots and he realizes he’s standing like a creep, he wipes his chin to make sure there’s no drool on it, then says, “I didn’t even say anything to you when I dropped off the flowers!”

“Yes, I was on call, but I appreciated the gesture.”

“Then that other time, I nearly bled out and stained your clothes with my blood.”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip. “That was kind of stressful, but you weren’t in any real danger of bleeding out. I would have freaked out a lot more if that was the case. Besides, I like taking care of you.”

You have got to stop saying cute shit like that, because Jason’s whole face heats up like a tomato and he can’t muster up any real words. What is it about you that turns him into such an idiot?

“Every time I go to your place, Damian’s there.”

“Damian is literally always at my apartment. I’m afraid that you’ll see even more of your brother if you really start dating me. Since we haven’t been already.”

Jason sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you sidle closer and grab his other hand. Your fingers intertwine with his. “I guess that was kind of stupid of me, huh?”

You shrug. “Not stupid. A little silly. But still cute.” You bounce on your toes and give Jason a look, and all he can think is Oh my God.

Because this is it.

He might have read everything else wrong, but Jason is pretty damn sure that you want him to kiss you for the first time. He might be awful, might be the worst goddamn person you’ve ever kissed, but he’s willing to practice until he’s the best.

Jason’s neck cranes. He leans down and you lean up, eyes fluttering shut, and…

Your phone rings.

Everything pauses. Your eyes open, and a crinkle appears between your brows. “I should take this.” You silence the sound, then look over the electronic screen. Jason doesn’t peek, although his Bat-paranoia is begging for him to.

“Isn’t your ringer always off?”

“Yeah, it’s, um… it’s an alarm,” you say.

You’re a terrible liar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You smile, but this time it looks forced. “I’ll see you later, Jay.” Instead of trying for a kiss again, you trap his arms to his side in a bear hug, then dart out the door.

Jason sticks his head into the hallway and shouts, “Are we still getting coffee tomorrow?” That was his backup plan for if something fucked up this attempt at a first date.

And something did.

You’re already gone.

He goes to your weekly coffee spot anyway in the vain hope you’ll show up. Nine o’clock passes, then nine-thirty, then ten.

After two hours of waiting, Jason has to concede that you’re not showing up.

The moment he stands, someone clears their throat, and when he looks back, Damian is in the chair across from him.

“Do you ever go to school?”

“At approximately nine-forty last evening,” started the brat, but Jason cut him off.

“Not interested in whatever tantrum you’re pitching now.”

“Sit down, Todd.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I know where Y/N is.”

Jason sits down.

Damian clears his throat again. “At approximately nine-forty last evening, Barry Allen sent a distress signal to the Justice League. Batman went to Star City to investigate, and he took Ghoul with him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“How should I know, you insufferable hooligan?”

Seriously. Victorian child. It was honestly ridiculous.

Damian lost a bit of confidence. “I am…” He bit his lip. “Worried.”

“Why?”

“I have not heard from Father or Y/N since their departure.”

Shit.

Jason shot to his feet. “Do we have a zeta to Star City?”

Damian scoffed. “Of course.”

“Good. We’re going to use it.”

“Affirmative.”

Jason drags the kid by the collar of his shirt. His bike is too far, so Jason hotwires a car and hauls ass to the Cave. Everyone else in this stupid nocturnal family is still asleep, so no one interrupts them when Damian turns off the zeta’s parental override and plugs in their coordinates. It’s a good thing he keeps a spare suit in the Cave; he hadn’t even thought to grab it from his apartment.

Jason takes a deep breath before stepping through. He’s had some time to think, so he knows exactly what he wants to say. He’ll apologize. He’ll ask to work through why you think your pain is such a non-issue that you’ll throw yourself at death headfirst. You’ll explain your thoughts, and agree to start thinking about your own health, and then maybe you’ll say ‘I love you’ to each other and kiss and live the rest of your lives happily ever after.

Jason steps into a tornado.

A metal plate zips by so close it nearly shears off his nose. Jason cries out and stumbles back, tripping over Damian as he emerges from the zeta.

“Are you sure you took us to the right place?” he shouts over the whirlwind screaming in his ears.

“Of course!” Damian yells back. “I do not make mistakes.”

“Then what the hell is going on here?”

“Unclear! The zeta should have put us in STAR labs!”

Jason stares at the big metal contraption in front of them. “I think it did.”

“What?”

He shouts, “I think it did!”

If Jason is ever going to look at a machine and think, Wow. That looks exactly like a time machine, this is that machine. It’s almost too massive to take in. And something is definitely wrong with it, unless lightning is supposed to be crackling around it and its metal plates are supposed to be peeling off.

Why had the Flash called Batman to help? What could Bruce do that a speedster couldn't?

“He’s gonna kill me for bringing Robin here,” Jason groaned.

Damian shouted, “What?”

“Nothing!”

Something yellow zips in front of them, and all of a sudden Jason can hear. His stomach just about falls out between his teeth when he pukes.

Damian doesn’t puke, although he does look queasy.

They’re now in another room in the lab. Thick glass windows separate them from the tornado. Watching the metal whirl around is kind of hypnotizing.

“Sorry,” says the Flash. “That happens a lot, actually.”

When Jason looks up, Batman and Ghoul are glaring at him. Funny how he can tell, even though neither vigilante’s mask exposes much (or all) of their face.

“Red Hood,” growls Batman, “what are you and Robin doing here?”

Jason looks past him and says to you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Flash looks between you and Jason and coughs into his hand, “Awkward.”

You roll your eyes beneath your mask. “I thought this would take an hour, tops.”

“Things have gotten… out of hand,” says Batman, which is akin to someone else screaming about the apocalypse and end of all humanity.

“Two important pieces in the collider disconnected early this morning,” says Flash.

“Okay,” says Jason. “So put them back together?” Aren’t these two supposed to be Earth’s smartest heroes?

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Quantum mechanics,” says Batman. “Too complicated to explain.”

You whisper behind your hand, “He’s been trying to help me understand all night.”

“So there’s technically good and bad news,” says Flash. “Good news: the malfunction is fixable. Now. It wasn’t before. Bad news: holding the machine together while it resets will kill you of radiation that unwinds your DNA. Good news: if I vibrate at just the right frequency, I may survive.”

“Okay, great,” says Jason. “What are you waiting for?”

“For you four to get out of range of the blast zone, mostly,” Flash says. “There is a small non-zero chance that the whole building will combust.”

“Five minutes should do it,” Batman growls. “Come along, Robin.”

Instead of coming along, Damian says, “What is that?” and points over Batman and Flash’s shoulders.

Everyone turns to look.

“I don’t see anything,” says Jason. He turns around to see Damian’s arms wrapped tight around your middle. By the time Flash and Batman turn back around, the boy’s arms are crossed over his chest as if nothing happened.

“Apologies,” Damian says stiffly. “I must have imagined it.”

Batman knows his son well, and he eyes Damian suspiciously, but at that moment a piece of debris hits the glass at the right angle, and shoots into the room. Flash jumps out of the way and it buries into the wall behind him.

The tornado’s cacophony is even louder, if that’s possible. Flash blurs into motion, and the ground pulls away from Jason. When he stops moving at the speed of light, he’s crouched beneath a desk next to you. Damian and Batman are together under the desk to your right.

Jason peers around the edge. All he can see of Flash is a yellow blur darting all over the machine. For a moment the wind stops, and every piece of debris clatters into the walls, then onto the floor. Jason’s ears ring.

“Is that it?”

There’s a tremendous crash, and Flash slams into the wall. The force of it holds him there for a moment, and then he tumbles to the ground, unconscious.

Batman darts out from the desk to pull the man’s body to safety. He taps Flash’s cheek, but the man doesn’t stir.

Well, shit. How long can they wait for Flash to wake up?

You say something, but Jason doesn’t hear. He shouts, “What?”

Your hands pull at your mask, and you yank it off, ruffling your hair. Jason smoothes it away from your face on instinct.

“Just tell me what to do,” he shouts.

Your eyes close against the wind. Tears escape the corners of both.

Jason feels your gentle fingers around the edge of his mask, and he helps you remove it. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “This isn’t fair.”

“We can—why are you saying this?” His eyes dart between you and Batman. The tornado in the other room is growing worse by the second, but he’s just looking at you two like some soap opera.

“Hey!” Your fingers latch in the front of his collar, and you yank Jason’s surprised mouth down onto yours. Your noses bump, and he forgets to breathe (he should joke that you take his breath away when all this is over) but it’s… It’s perfect.

His first kiss.

Damian yells, “Gross!”

You pull back. A brilliant smile lights up your face. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jason breathes.

Metal clicks around his wrist.

Jason looks at the handcuff, not really understanding your plan until you latch the other cuff around one of the desk’s bolted-down legs. “Don’t you dare,” he says. Jerks his wrist back. The cuff clatters but holds.

“I’ve got a chance.”

“Not a good one!”

“I’ll see you in a sec.” You stand up.

“What are you doing?” Damian hollers.

“Don’t do this!” Jason shouts. He fights with the handcuffs, and they creak, but he won’t get out of them in time to stop you. Anxious desperation courses through his veins. “Y/N, get back here!”

Damian’s head whips between you and Jason. His eyes widen, and he lunges out from behind the desk to stop you, but Batman catches him around the middle and hauls him back kicking and screaming.

You shout to Batman, “Get them out of here!”

The cowled man looks at you for a long moment. Jason’s spirits rise: will Batman stop you?

But then he nods smartly, giving you permission to exit the room and enter the tornado. Batman tears the door handle off seconds before Robin hits it, banging his fists on the metal and screaming your name. He lets Robin tire himself out doing that and crosses over to Jason. “Will you fight me?”

Jason stares at his father, tears brimming in his eyes. “How could you let them do that?”

Voice completely emotionless, Batman says, “It was the most practical risk to take.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s okay.” Batman crouches and reaches a hand out. He strokes Jason’s hair twice, the way he used to when they were younger, and Jason hates the way he leans into it. “I’ll be back for you, then.” He straightens and barks, “Robin, to me!”

Damian whirls around, teeth bared in a feral snarl. “I will not leave Ghoul!”

Jason can’t hear whatever Bruce says to him, but somehow he persuades Damian to help pick Flash’s limp body off the ground. With a flourish of capes, they disappear, and Jason’s left alone, handcuffed to a desk, listening to the tornado in the next room tear apart the love of his life.

The wind crescendos.

Abates.

The building holds its breath, and then—

Whoosh.

Jason curls up into as tight a ball as possible, teeth gritted against the terrible flooding heat. If not for the shelter of an entire wall and desk separating him from the flames, Jason would be burnt alive. No one could withstand—

Jason whirls around and screams, “Y/N!” The stupid fucking handcuff, he pulls against it, and it bites into his wrist, drawing blood. “Fuck, I’m being so fucking stupid—”

Jason braces the metal chain against one of his knives and applies pressure until it snaps. Then he’s up, feet skidding over glass and metal shards, and he bursts through the door to the particle collider. “Y/N! Ghoul!” He can hear his own panicked breathing, but he can’t regulate it.

You’re okay. You have to be okay. You survived a broken neck, severed spinal cord, and seven bullet wounds to the abdomen. Just because Jason can’t find your body doesn’t mean anything. Just because the room is filled with ash and dust and dirt and no fucking body doesn’t mean anything.

Jason screams your name until his throat is raw. The particle collider is ruined, partially collapsed, and Jason slices open his palms on jagged edges trying to shove it away. Are you stuck beneath it? Jason doesn’t even know what parts were broken.

Something clatters behind him, and Jason whirls around, but it’s just Batman.

Surveying the damage, the man abruptly looks old beyond his years. He barely spares Jason a glance before beginning his own search for you.

“Y/N! Please!” Jason begs. “You can’t be dead, you promised—”

“Red Hood,” Batman says, and his voice is so raw that Jason whirls around.

There’s a pale-clothed arm in Batman’s arm. Jason gasps.

Then he sees that it’s attached to a torso.

Batman grunts and tugs, and the rest of you slips out from under a thick sheet of metal. “Oh, fuck,” Jason says hoarsely. He stumbles over the mess and falls to his knees in front of you. “You smart little asshole, you—” Jason feels for a pulse.

Nothing.

What had Flash said? The radiation unwinds your DNA? Is that something Professor Pyg’s sick experimentation could protect you from?

“Hood,” Batman says.

“No.”

“Hood—”

“Fuck off, B.”

Instead of fucking off, the older man pulls down his cowl and sinks to Jason’s level. “You’re bleeding, son.”

“It’s fine,” Jason mutters. His hands are rubbing it onto your suit, but you’re good at getting bloodstains out of the fabric. It’ll be okay. “Come on, Y/N.” His lower lip wobbles, but Jason resists the stone forming in his throat. You’re fine. You’ve always been fine.

Maybe you just need to breathe better. Jason rips off your mask, but that doesn’t help. Maybe he needs to breathe. He removes his own helmet, but that, too, makes little difference.

Physically, you look fine. Jason doesn’t see a single wound.

Of course, it would be hard for the naked eye to recognize unwound DNA, wouldn’t it?

Jason abruptly has a rush of sympathy for Dr. Fries. He doesn’t give a shit how long it takes or if the technology hasn’t been invented yet, your DNA is getting re-wound.

Then you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes fly open.

DC taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3

forever taglist

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[illusioncanthurtme]

I have this Online Artist Disease where anytime I get an idea I feel like I need to make a thing in order to deliver that idea. Like, oh, a headcanon? Time to make a 5 panel comic to illustrate this vision. Well fuck that, I don't have the damn time. DIPCIFICA HEADCANON GO:

Pacifica keeps her job at greasy's diner for a long time. She eventually finds comfort from being there, routine, having some independence with a paycheck, having lazy Susan as a (very kind and loving) parental figure, etc. And dipper, teen years, crushing on her, sometimes takes his paranormal research work over there. Camps out in one of the booths for a few hours, hoping to interact with her a bit. And hes HORRIBLY awkward. He tries playing it cool, (oh, you know, nice to take my work outside the shack for a change, heheh *sweating*) but EVERYONE knows why he's there. He orders a coffee. Maybe he doesn't even particularly like coffee. Caffeine doesn't set well with him. But he drinks it anyway so she'll come back and refill it, and he'll get a chance to, at BEST, talk with her. Usually he doesn't muster up the courage. He just smiles awkwardly and says thank you.

Lazy Susan probably makes sure Pacificas the one who waits on his table. (Pacifica is very embarrassed - she likes him too but is in denial.) Dipper just thinks he's lucky.

Eventually, when they're dating, he still goes there with his work to spend time with her.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Best friends-part 1

Pairing - Rafe Cameron x best friend!reader

Summary - it’s been 2 years since you’ve seen Rafe, he has a gf and a business degree. You are dating his cousin Cooper and still very involved with the Cameron’s.

Warnings- Descriptive sexual assault, mention of domestic Violence, drinking, language. 18+ no minors

Your families had been friends for years, you had grown up with Rafe. He was your best friend, you couldn’t do anything without each other. Your parents would always joke around that the two of you would get married.

When you turned 14 you realized you might be in love with your best friend romantically but you knew he didn’t feel the same way. He was popular with the ladies, usually bringing a new date to a party each night. He would still tell you that you were his number 1 girl.

That’s when you become self conscious of the way you looked, you started wearing makeup, getting your hair done and exercising religiously. Just so you could match up to the girls he was hitting on.

When you both turned 18, he took off to college. Getting his business degree so his dad would let him run part of the business.

You stayed back though, doing most of your courses online. You couldn’t leave, not when your dad was so sick. So you stayed and wondered what Rafe was up to, you didn’t see him for over 2 years.

You messaged here and there but things weren’t the same anymore. After a while of waiting for him, you realized you needed to move on. You wouldn’t hope and pray that one day he would wake up and feel the same way you do.

So when his older cousin Cooper asked you out on a date, you said yes without a second thought. He was exactly 2 years and 6 months older than you, he’d never given you a second look until the New Year’s party, you had been waiting for Rafe to show up. But to avail he never showed, you met Cooper properly that night and he was instantly obsessed.

Fast forward 8 months into a relationship with him, you found yourself sat on the floor of Tanny Hill. Watching as everyone opened their Christmas presents.

You had been invited by Ward before he had even thought of inviting Cooper and his side of the family, you had to pretend to act surprised when Cooper asked you to come. You knew he had invited you since your dad had passed away, your mum had gone back to work not long after he passed and she was apparently to busy to come home for Christmas.

This year Rafe came on, he was sitting on the large black lounge, arm slung around his girlfriend Lola. She was lovely, blonde with a die for figure. Everything you weren’t. Rafe looked more mature, but happier.

He still caused butterflies to swarm your belly, your heart to stammer in your chest. He still hugged the same and spoke the same, still picked on you in a way that had you giddy.

“Who wants a drink?” Coop questions, stumbling in his step slightly. You shook your head and stood up, he had been drinking since 9am and it was 2pm now. He was wasted. He could hardly stand by himself, using the door frame for support.

“Coop I don’t think you need another drink” you whispered, following him into the kitchen. He waved you off and continued to mix liquids into a shaker.

He had started drinking a lot in the past 3 months, work had been stressful and deadlines where being thrown left and right at him. You suspected he was also nervous about Rafe coming home, he knew how close we used to be.

“Could you open that?” He asks, pushing you the unopened bottle of champagne. His hands gripped the table to steady himself, he chuckled under his breath and looked up at you.

“Open it!” He ordered, you jumped slightly at his aggressive tone. You hated when he drank, he was a whole other person. Mean, manipulative and always ended up hurting you in some way.

You proceeded to uncork the champagne and passed it back to him in silence, he snatched it from you without a thank you and went back to making his drink.

He took a gulp of his drink and walked around to you, sculling back the last of it, he reached out for you. flinching away from him as he placed his hand on your hip.

“Oh come on babe, I didn’t mean to yell” he whispered, pressing his lips to your cheek. You nodded your head in silence, holding your breath. The stench of alcohol on his breath made you woozy.

His lips trailed down your neck, sucking harshly at the skin. He pushed your back against the island bench, trapping you between his large arms. Grinding himself against you.

“Coop, not now. Someone could walk in” you whispered, moving to duck under his arm. He grabbed the pony tail that sat low on your head, pulling you back up to him.

“You don’t get to deny me what’s mine” he growled, his hand gripping the base of your throat. Tightening his fingers around it roughly.

“Coop” you cried, your throat began to burn and the breath you desperately wanted to take was trapped. “You're hurting me!”

He wasn’t listening though, his eyes were glazed over and the expression on his face was no longer him. He was the Cooper you had started to hide from when he came home at 2am in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up” he shouted, his fingers slipped under the material of your sweater. Groping the flesh of your breast roughly, scratching the skin raw.

You had started to cry at this point, tears staining your cheeks. You were thankful that this house was so big, no one would be able to hear you. You didn’t want anyone to witness this.

Cooper began to unzip your jeans, sliding his shaky hand under your panties until he found what he was looking for.

“Cooper!” You cried out, searing pain shooting through you as his fingers roughly entered you.

Tears were blurring your vision now, his lips were all over you. You were struggling to breath from his mouth on your lips and his fingers around your throat.

He began to unzip his own pants, pulling your hand away from the bench and down his jeans. Your fingers frozen, he manipulated them until they wrapped around his cock. “Come on y/n, just a quick fuck and you can go back to the fucking Cameron’s” he slurred, pulling your jeans down to expose your green panties. “Fuck, my favorite” he laughed, he spun you around pushing your face into the table.

The alcohol Cooper had spilt was now all over your face and in your hair, he had you pinned under his hand. Pulling his cock out of his pants, he didn’t warn you or ease you into it. He slammed his hips into you, causing you to cry out in pain.

You squeezed your eyes such and dug your fingernails into the wooden bench, trying to take yourself to a happy place. Anywhere but here.

“Fuck! Get a roo-” Rafes voice filled your ears, the once deafening buzz was gone and you pried your eyes open. Rafe only needed a second to realize you were in distress.

The once disgusted look in his face had vanished and was replaced with anger, his brows knitted together as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Fuck off bro” Cooper shouted, pushing your head back down onto the table and thrusting his hips again, he had no shame.

“Rafe!” You choked, pleading for him to do something. Rafe seemed to have gotten out of the trance he was in and he began bounding towards the two of you.

Cooper pulled himself out of you, tucking himself back into his pants stumbling backwards into the sink.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!!” Rafe screamed, he fisted the front of Cooper's shirt and pulled him closer.

You could tell he was fighting with himself, he didn’t want to cause a scene. Not when his dad was around, he couldn’t risk losing the business.

You had pulled your pants up in hurry, clutching the table in pain as Ward stepped into the kitchen the moment Rafe’s fist was in the air, he took one look at you crying and looked back at the boys.

“What happened?” He questioned, causing Rafe to drop his fist and look back at his dad. “He was assaulting y/n”.

This seemed to anger Ward as well, he nodded his head and stepped over to you.

“Let’s take you somewhere else” Ward whispers, he puts his hand out for you to take. You look back at Rafe and cooper, Rafe nods his head towards his dad. Cooper doesn’t even look at you, he’s so far gone his eyes are rolling behind his head.

You step over to take Ward’s hand and let him take you to his study, he situates you on the couch and hands you some water. You give him a soft smile and move your head to stare out of the window at the sea.

“I’ll be next door” he states, he wants to give you a moment of privacy. He also knows you won’t talk about it to him, you’ll want to talk to Rafe.

You're unaware how much time passes but the door to the study creaks open, Rafe steps in with a bag of ice over his hand.

“Y/n”

You turn your head back to the window, cradling your throat in your hands. The aching hadn’t stopped, the burn in your throat was brutal. No amount of water was easing the pain.

“Can I use your shower?” You asked, moving from your spot and walking towards him. You winced in pain, you hadn’t realized how sore you were. Cooper had been much rougher this time. “Here I’ll help you”.

You let him walk you up the stairs to his room, he pushes the door open. His girlfriend Lola lay on top of his mattress reading a book, her head whips around and sorrow feels her features when she looks at you.

“Sorry babe I thought you were downstairs” he smiled at her, she pulled herself from the bed quickly and flattened her dress. “I’ll use Sarah’s shower” you stated, pulling away from Rafe and walking yourself across the landing with a whimper.

“I have to help her babe” Rafe states and his arms are back around you in a second. You let him lead you into Sarah’s room, he flips the switch in the bathroom and turns the shower on.

“Thanks Rafe” you whisper, you give a soft hug in appreciation and he kisses the top of your head like he used to. Your heart swells, he pulls away and gives you a smile.

“I’ll get you some of Sarah’s clothes” he states and steps out of the room, he goes to close the door but you grab the handle before he can. “Leave it open a little please”.

He nods and steps away from the door, he searches through Sarah’s draws and grabs her a pair of loose shorts and oversized shirt. This should do, he thought to himself.

He walked back to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of you reaching for the towel. He could see old bruises on your arms and the fresh bruises on your hips, he closed his eyes when he caught sight of the harsh scratches on your breast. He knew he shouldn’t look, but you’d seen each other naked before. Okay maybe you were only 15 but still.

“Rafe” you called out, he was at the door in seconds handing you a pile of clothes. “Let me get yours washed” he says, you look down at your clothes and back at him. “No I’ll do it” you went to grab the clothes on the bench but he was faster than you. “Rafe” you warned but his eyes were already looking at the clothes in his hands, the sight of bright red blood stained on your once favorite pair of panties.

“Fuck” he grunted, balling your clothes up in his fists. “I’m getting dad to call the dr” he states, you shake your head grabbing his bicep. “No please Rafe, I’m fine. I don’t want another dr looking at me” you cried, he pulls you into a hug and squeezes you softly against his chest.

“Does this happen a lot?” He questions, he knows he doesn’t have a right to ask. The two of you hadn’t spoken properly since he left and he knew that was all his fault.

“When he drinks a lot he is this whole other person, it only started happening recently. I was never around when he drank before” you mumbled against his chest, you could hear the harsh thump of his heart as he took in the new information.

“He pushed me around a couple of times, forced himself on me a few weeks ago when I told him I missed you. Today was different, he was brutal.” You say, pulling yourself away from his hold. You grab the clothes he brought in and begin to change, keeping the towel around your body until the oversized shirt cover your naked body, stepping into the shorts.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been around y/n” he says, taking the towel from you and hanging it on a hook. He watches you throw your clothes into the trash, and lets you walk out of the bathroom first.

“Y/n”

Cooper's voice frightens you, you step back hitting Rafe’s chest in the process. Your heart races as you take in his swollen bruised face, you didn’t like it. “Coop, Ward told you to leave” Rafe states, stepping around you and walks towards him. “I know I know, I just needed to see y/n. I’m so sorry this happened again baby, you know I love you”.

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom closing the door behind you, you didn’t want to hear it, he was just trying to get you to forgive him. Take him back and pretend like none of it happened.

It was the same every time, this time he’d gone too far.

“Get out Cooper now, I’m fucking serious. Your lucky I didn’t call the fucking cops you piece of shit!” Rafe bellows, you hear a thump against a wall. Either Rafe hit the wall or he hit Cooper who fell into the wall.

“Fuck!” You hear Cooper shout, the door slams behind him. You're pressed against the bathroom door in silence, body shaking in fear.

Rafe taps on the wood quietly and you open the door for him. “He’s gone, let’s get you something to eat yeah?”.

Part two

Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank

(please note a lot of people who commented or like my taglist post I am unable to actually tag, so sorry!! And if you no longer want to be tagged just let me know)

[aninventoryofthepossible]

Solve a murder in No-Tell Motel. Just don't get it wrong.

My new single-player TTRPG, No-Tell Motel, is now for sale in my online shop!

What does it look like, you ask? It looks like this:

The premise: You're the overnight clerk at a shady by-the-hour motel. Last night, one of your regulars murdered another one, and no one - least of all the cops - seems interested in finding out who did it or why.

So it's down to you. Night after night, use a deck of cards in a Solitaire-like spread to track who checks in and out of your motel, who they get entangled with, and sift through gossip to find out how they know each other - and get that much closer to finding out who did the deed.

Just be careful. As the nights wear on doubt will creep in, and evidence will start to point in multiple directions. Make the best case you can, because if you get it wrong - and you very much can - disaster follows.

No-Tell Motel is a 32-page black & white zine featuring a gorgeous cover and character art for 16 motel guests all by artist Shawn McGuan. All you need to play is the book, a deck of Poker cards, a six-sided die, and (optionally) the Dossier and Ledger available for free at the itch page.

"But Ken," you ask. "Can I get any memorabilia swiped from the crime scene?"

"Of course you can, you weird little goblin," I answer. "Here's how."

You can get the following items a la carte, or get every dang thing in the Employee Bundle (pictured above) for $32 right here.

The "Dice Tray" is, of course, for rolling dice and nothing else. Whatever else you do with the "Dice Tray" is between you and your night shift manager. Tin "Dice trays" are 5.4" in diameter and available right here.

It has four grooves to hold things that aren't dice. I have no opinion about what you do with those.

The Room 7 Keychain is exactly what it sounds like: the keychain for the room where the murder happened. It's 3.75" long high-quality plastic with hot stamp foil imprint on both sides. If you attach this to your keys, just be prepared to have an alibi. I know a guy. You can get yours here.

Also, all orders will get a couple-few Stellar Motel matchbooks thrown in until I run out, which shouldn't be for awhile. (I have like 2,000 of these!)

Sorry that's a lot of sales talk - I just personally follow a rule that I only make merch of stuff that I, personally, want. I wanted these things for myself, and they frankly kind of rock, and add a lot to the sleazy, winking atmosphere of No-Tell Motel. Hope you like them too.

[honeybadger16]

Honey Badger in the Lion's Den

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader x Dan Riccciardo

Warnings: smut, threesomes, fmm, swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: Maxiel is real, prove me wrong. Let me know what you think about the pairing, I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Being the girlfriend of Max Verstappen has its perks: traveling all around the world, attending luxurious parties, and grabbing the attention of a certain Australian driver who can't stop staring at you and Max.

You and Max had been dating for two years, and enjoyed every second of it. From traveling around the world to attending the most luxurious parties, Max made sure you were always comfortable and happy during the busy racing season. For him, most weekends consisted of tough practice sessions and grueling workouts.

You made it your mission to help him relax when necessary in order to prevent burn out. This consisted of massages or venting sessions before bed. If it was a particularly bad day rough sex in the bed or shower was usually the solution.

This weekend you arrived in Australia, just as Max and Daniel were doing media duties. You couldn't imagine any serious answers were given as the two drivers loved to mess with other during interviews. Watching the two interact from a screen there was no denying Max's boy crush on Daniel. This had been a long running joke online between fans, but it wasn't far from the truth. Max had been idolizing Daniel since they first met, and considered him a best friend. Max would never tell a soul, but whenever his imagination ran loose, the idea of Daniel on top of you made his pants get tighter. He thinks to himself it's wrong to imagine his girlfriend with another man, but it's just a harmless fantasy right?

Australia had been a total disaster for Max, not finishing the race due a gas leak was the last thing any driver wants on Sundays. Daniel had finished 6th, a respectable position considering he was driving in a shitty McLaren tractor-like car. Max was still in a bad mood as night fell on the racing city. Most drivers wanted to go clubbing and celebrate their earned points, including Daniel.

That's when the two of you heard knocking on the hotel door around 10 P.M. Opening the door you find Daniel's signature smile pulling you into a hug. "Hey y/n I haven't had a chance to say hi all weekend, how are you?" You responded by giving him a recap of the shops you visited and the restaurants you tried- his recommendations of course. Max hadn't looked up from his phone, not in the mood to match the Australian's cheery mood. "Are you guys coming out with us? The club we picked has the best champagne."

Max responds by telling him he's too tired to go out tonight and to have fun without him. Daniel could see through Max's bullshit response and looks over to you for an explanation. You shrug your shoulders not exactly sure what to say. Usually when Max had a rough race, him fucking your brains out helped him feel better. That's when you thought of an idea to cheer up Max. It was risky and could ruin one of the closest relationships Max had, but you were positive it would exciting.

Leaning closer to Max, you whisper, "what if we let Daniel watch as I suck your cock?" Max turns quickly around to face you, turning red in the cheeks, "what?" You snake your hand to palm his crouch, already hardening. You turn to face Daniel who's eyes glaze over with desire as he stares intently at the two of you sitting down on the chair nearby. "I think he also wants to watch me take you in my mouth."

Kissing up Max's neck, you unzip his pants and continue to palm his hard cock through his boxers. Max had given in to the pleasure and began making louder noises in response to your touches. You could hear the zip of Daniel's pants as he takes his semi-hard cock out beginning to slowly stroke it.

You decided it was enough teasing for one night and helped Max take off the article of clothing that was separating your mouth and his cock. He was already painfully hard, his tip was colored brightly red, begging for some sort of relief. You began at the bottom licking the shaft and taking his balls in the hands, avoiding the head. "Fuck-please take it all in y/n." You could see how much pre-cum had collected on top of his cock and collected it all on your tongue.

Max soon becomes confused as you get up and walk over to Daniel. He can only watch as you sat on you on one of Daniel's thighs and connected your lips together. After releasing your mouths apart you ask, "How does Max taste?"

"Like fucking Heaven" Daniel is quick to putting his hands on your shirt tugging it off of you. He was pleased to see you opted for a braless outfit as he began to fondle your breasts, kissing you once again. Max began to notice your hips moving against the Australian's thighs, in an attempt to give your clit some attention. Your hands found Daniel's cock and began rubbing him until he was fully erect.

Max thought he had died and was in his personal Heaven, this scenario only played out in his head when he was jerking off by himself, giving him the most intense orgasms. Yet, here they were, his girlfriend and best friend making out as Max got unbelievably harder. He could see y/n whispered something to Daniel as they both got up to remove the remaining pieces of clothing they both had on.

You came up to Max, while Daniel came from the back. Stroking his cock Max let his head fall back onto Daniel's chest. "That's it baby keep going" You however had another idea. You took one of Daniel's hands and placed it on Max's cock, molding it to go up and down the shaft. Max opened his eyes and began grunting louder turning to face Daniel. The two began to make out as Max was reaching closer to his orgasm. Daniel's lips tasted like the pre-game vodka he drank before he knocked on their door. Even though the taste of alcohol lingered on Max's lips he could get drunk on the feeling of having Daniel so close to him only. Why hadn't they done this sooner?

You removed Daniel's hand and instructed Max to lay down as you climbed on top of him and began rubbing his cock on your wet pussy. Finally, you push yourself down, having to adjust to his size no matter how many times you take him inside you. Riding on Max's cock you take Daniel in your mouth moving up and down. Sounds of moans and grunts could be heard as the three of you reach closer to the end.

Max moves his hips at the same time as yours to reach into deeper and faster. Max's cock curves perfectly into you pushing on your walls as you bounce on him in a faster, more desperate pace. He takes his fingers and rubs your clit, "come with me y/n." With the combination of Max deep inside you and stimulation on your clit, you explode first, Max following soon after. The two of you feel as Max's cum fills you up to the brim.

Daniel grabs your head and brings it down on his cock until your nose pressed against his abdomen. "Shit I'm going to cum." He pulls you off and releases his cum onto your lips and face, groaning as waves of pleasure ripple through his body.

You pull off of Max when Daniel puts you on your back, legs open towards him. Max's cum had started dripping out of you when Daniel began licking at your pussy. Throwing your head back in pleasure you couldn't believe you were close to cumming again so soon. He stuck his tongue inside of you licking up all of Max's cum and swallowing it. You finally reached your end as you tugged on Daniel's dark locks and made eye contact with him. As you rode through your second orgasm of the night, you noticed Max had gone to the bathroom and brought water and washcloths for the three of you.

Still breathing hard, you sat up on the bed and accepted the water giving a soft thanks, while Daniel helped clean you up. The room was silent, but comforting. Daniel and Max put on their boxers once more, while you wore one of Max's shirts. In the middle of the bed Max welcomed the embraces of both you and Daniel. He first kissed you also whispering a soft thank-you. He turned to Daniel and kissed him tenderly as the older man accepted the show of affection. Cuddling up all together the three of you drift to sleep, not worrying about the questions you would receive the next day from the other drivers about your absence.

[footygirl114]

Escolta (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

Surprise! I bring you the first part of a new series as a birthday present! So happy birthday, and I hope y'all enjoy! 🧡💜

The shrill ringing of your phone awoke you from the light sleep you were in, opening your eyes the bright sun on the beach in Bali you were currently laid out on almost blinded you. Reaching over to the table beside you, you snatched the ringing phone sparing it a quick glance as you answer the call with a “Hi boss.” 

“Y/N! How’s the time off?” she asks down the phone. 

You look around the secluded beach you have been relaxing on as you answer with “Peaceful.” 

Michelle, your boss, chuckles down the line as she says “I didn’t know that you could relax Y/N.” 

“I never said I was relaxed, but it is peaceful” You answer her back. 

“Secluded?” she asks you. 

You chuckle and tell her “I haven’t seen a soul since my grocery delivery 3 days ago.” 

Michelle laughs down the line and says “Well I hate to burst your bubble but your vacation is over, I have a job for you.”

For the last 11 days you had been on a secluded beach in Bali, trying to relax but also just enjoying the peace and quiet. It had been a long month working security for a group of British Diplomats who were traveling around the middle east working on peace deals. The few days of peace were needed after being consistently working for a month. 

“Where am I off to this time?” you asked Michelle, as you finally sat up on the lounger you had been laying in. Your mind immediately working overtime thinking about what you needed to do in order to get back to reality. 

“Actually, it’s a different assignment than you are used to but you are the only one I can trust with this one.” Michelle starts and when you do not interrupt she continues “I need you in Barcelona.” 

“Barcelona? for what?” you immediately ask, your mind buzzing wondering if you missed some major news story. 

Michelle chuckles as she says “It’s still a protection detail, but a more sensitive and less invasive one.” 

She has you confused and you stand and start to gather your bag to walk back to your cabin as you tell her “Michelle, just tell me, you know I hate it when you are evasive.” 

Michelle lets out a laugh as she says “Alexia Putellas.” 

“Who?” you ask, continuing the walk to your cabin to start packing. 

“She’s the most recent Ballon D’Or winner, the best woman’s player in the world, and she’s been gaining popularity and there is a some concerns for her safety when she’s attending events.” Michelle explains. 

“What do they need me for? I know they’d have security at these events?” you ask, finally reaching your cabin and immediately starting up your computer. 

“There has been some weird comments online, some fan mail sent in, and they want to make sure there is extra security without all the fuss of a full team.” she tells you. 

You groan as you realise you will basically be a baby sitter for this one “You need a babysitter.”

“Y/N, this could be massive for us, if we can do well here this can expand our clientele and we can finally start to get into the sports world. So yes, I need my best employee to provide the best low-key protection possible to the best football player in the world.” she says. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere Michelle. Send me the details and I will handle it” You tell her with a chuckle. 

“thank you” she chuckles and you finish off the conversation with pleasantries, as you turn on your computer to get your self back to reality. 

**

A week later you are parking the rental car outside of a nice looking apartment building right on the water in Barcelona, ready to head in and meet your new client. You had spent the last week visiting your shoebox of an apartment in London, that was pretty much used to store your stuff and be a landing pad between jobs. 

Having read up on the client and the job, you knew you would be staying in an apartment the client’s manager organised for you in the building. You also spent much longer than you cared to admit googling Alexia Putellas. Something about her captivated you and now that you are about to meet her you feel a bit creepy that you know so many things about her. 

Deciding to leave your bags in the trunk you walk into the apartment lobby, you were told that you were meeting Jose, the players manager, and that there was a seperate elevator to the penthouse apartment which was owned by Alexia. You walked in and looked around and noticed there was no doorman or security in the lobby, mentally noting that in your head you walked to the reception desk. 

“Hola, how can I help you?” the gentleman behind the desk asked you with a smile. 

Smiling back you notice his name tag and respond “Hola Miguel, I am here to see Jose.” 

Miguel nods and says “Perfect, it’s the elevator on the far right, I will swipe you up.” 

You stare at him for a second and respond with a “Gracias” and move toward the elevator, you hear his steps follow you and you watch as he pulls a card from his pocket and swipes it above the call button. 

When the elevator arrives, he allows you to board and leans in and swipes his card again on the inside as he presses the button for the penthouse. He smiles and steps back saying “It’ll go right to the penthouse, and I will let Jose know you are on the way up.” 

The doors close before you can respond, you spend the ride up and thinking over that whole interaction and how this job is going to be a lot harder than you expected if this is your first interaction. When you get up to the top and the doors open, you almost expect to have no one there but you are pleasantly surprised when you are met at the top by Jose. 

“Y/N? Nice to meet you I am Jose” he immediately starts with when the doors open and he holds out his hand to you. 

Shaking his hand you reply “It’s nice to finally meet you too.” 

Before you finish speaking he turns and starts walking and says “Come with me, I do not have much time before my next meeting but I will get you set up.” 

You move to follow and look around as you walk and notice a very formal living room and dining room you pass by, and then you pass through a doorway into a large open concept kitchen and family room. On the far side there is a hallway and you assume that there is at least one bedroom down it. 

When Jose moves to the kitchen island he grabs and turns to hand to you a set of keys and a key card like the one use to get into the elevator. “The keys are for your apartment, 2 floors down, and the card is for you to get into the elevator here and up to the penthouse, it's a private elevator directly to Alexia’s unit.” 

You continue to watch as he hands you a packet and continues with “you will find passes to the field, it will get you everywhere but into the change room. You will also find the schedule for the next few weeks of games and events we have already to committed too. This will change and things will be added but thats a rough outline. When Alexia is in her apartment we won’t be needing you, but anytime she leaves we expect you to follow.” 

At this point you have taken everything he has handed to you and you follow along looking at everything, when he stops talking you look up and see him looking at something over your shoulder. You turn sightly and lock eyes with Alexia Putellas, immediately the first thought in your head is holy shit the pictures do not do her justice.

“Jose, is this my new babysitter?” she asks with a chuckle as she walks closer to you, you also notice she came from down the hallway you think was bedrooms. 

Chuckling Jose responds with “Y/N meet Alexia, Alexia met Y/N the new security agent I have hired for you.” 

You reach out your hand to her and say “Nice to meet you ma’am” 

She reaches out and grabs your hand with a smile and says “please do not call me ma’am. Alexia is fine.” 

“Noted ma’am” when she gives you the eye you correct “I mean Miss. Putellas.” 

Jose chuckles and interrupts the staring contest by saying “I need to run, but I think you should be good from here.” 

“I’ll walk you out” Alexia chimes in and follows him to the front door. 

You stand there watching wondering if you should be doing something, and you decide to look at the schedule you were given. A few moments later you know she has walked back in, you were a highly trained operative after all, but you refused to look up.

You listen as she walks over to the other side of the kitchen island you are standing at and she says “So I think we need to set some things straight.” 

You look up giving her your full attention and ask “what do you mean?.” It was a mistake meeting her eyes cause now you are lost looking into them, and you have to dig your nails into your palm to keep your self focused. It was a trick you had learned in your many years in the military to keep your mind present and not wonder on patrols. 

“I didn’t want you. I don’t need extra security. This was all Jose’s idea and I really don’t think I need someone following me around.” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest watching for your reaction. 

What she says doesn’t take you by surprise, its not the first time a client has said this to you and you know it won’t be the last. “You may not think you need it, but I have seen the videos and clips, and seen the messages you have gotten. You may not think you need it right now, but the whole point of hiring me is that I am going to work my ass off to make sure nothing happens and you continue to remain safe.” 

She stands there for a moment staring at you and you feel like your being judged hard. When she finally shrugs and says “Fine, but I do not like this, and I need to make sure you understand that football is my life and I will not let anything get in the way of it.” 

You feel like she is talking about more than just a protection detail but you can’t even entertain that right now. “Listen Miss Putellas, I got in to your apartment no questions asked by saying I was here to see Jose. Anyone could have done that, and that is not okay when you have no warning of someone coming into your apartment.” 

“What?” she asks and moves around the island to your side. 

“No one even asked who I was or why I was here, they just scanned me into your elevator. People are crazy and anyone could have found out where you live and come into your apartment. I will not let that happen, and the first thing I am going to do is make sure you are safe and comfortable in your own apartment.” When you finish you realise you may have gone on a bit of rant and immediately feel the blush rush to your cheeks. 

She moves closer to you and says “You really are here to just keep me safe?” you nod and she continues “and you won’t get in my way?” She asks looking right into your eyes. 

Nodding you answer “I understand passion, and I know what it feels like to have the drive you do, I will not get in your way. If anything I want to take this off your plate and make you feel confident in anything you are doing.” 

The ringing of her phone causes her to jump back, and you notice how close you were to closing the space between the two of you. While she distracts her self by the phone, you move to gather yourself and your paperwork and you move toward the door. 

“You will need to go to the lobby and get on the other elevator, but your apartment is 1212. I won’t be going anywhere tonight but I leave at 8am to go to training.” She says as she covers the mouth piece on the phone. 

“I will see you in the morning.” you tell her and keep your self from looking at her by pressing the button on the elevator. When it arrives you move to get on it and you can’t help your self but look up and meet her eyes. She smiles and winks at you just as the door closes and you know you need to keep this professional, but you are going to be in big trouble while you try.