#((I really enjoy the detail in that sign lol))
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gen4grl · 3 months ago
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from artistic mental breakdown to 5 wips simultaneously lmao
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year ago
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#so i survived my 1st week as a phd student. it's interesting. im not sure how i feel#the negatives are that i forgot how much stress being around people causes me. as a research assistant i was able to be on my own schedule#and go into the lab at odd hours so i never had to see anyone. but now im in classes and teaching and have a shared office#classes are tolerable stress wise so long as im sitting on an edge. i only feel a lil like im dying. teaching makes nauseous beforehand.#which is odd bc im not really worried while im doing it or before im doing it. i thibk its just that i have to interact ans i kno im a#mediocre teacher bc id rather die than do the back and forth of asking questions and u should teach interactively#i like to break down complex idea and help people with problems but i was not build to teach in classrooms. i get knocked off points when#i give class presentations bc i cant make eye contact lol. so that'll b annoying this semester. and its just so hard to function in an#office space. idk its weird like i dont even feel it that much while im there its just like a flashing *i need to leave* alarm. and then#when im alone its like a physical weight off of me. and i cant tell if thats what's draining my energy or if ive just cycled into a low#energy lul bc im just like. i wanna sleep. and for me thats always a sign that somethings wrong. i dont feel that bad mood wise but its#like there's a rock weighing me down as im trying to tread water. so those r the big negatives. the positives r that#i do enjoy being back in school. i love the structure of it. but im also self destructive abt structure so well see how it goes. but my#lab mates seem nice as does my advisor. i feel a bit bad bc ill have to learn genome stuff from the ground up. and today i was trying to#convey ideas to him like an insane person. bc i dont have enough background to talk fluidly abt my prospective project and i have a picture#of what i mean but not all the details. hopefully i made some sense. i think the idea is cool. and thats the other really positive thing.#the papers i have to read associated with this project r waaaaaaaaaay more interesting than anything i ever had to read for my masters. like#they're the types of papers i would force other ppl to read for lab meetings. so im optimistic abt not hating it by the end haha#yay for being excited abt science. but i guess thats the other thing i feel bad abt. like im interested but haven't read a lot to prep bc#i cant express how difficult dyslexia makes things but also i cant control how interested in things i get so i bassically banned myself#from reading papers im actually interested in like 3 years ago bc in retrospect i was prob going thru a hypomanic episode#and i was like reading papers abt microbes in Antarctica all day and not working on my stuff. and i just remember walking into the lab at#like 5am to trasfer alage with tears streaming down my face bc i was just like. i cant have this nice thing and b functional. it has to stop#so i just created this weird barrier in my mind where im not allowed to read fun papers. so its odd to b reading them now for work. its odd#also i was walking to my office worring abt things and then i saw some moss growinf around the edge of the sidewalk and it made me wanna cry#bc i am an extremely normal individual. i have normal feelings abt photosynthesis. but anyway yeah. its been interesting#hopefully ill stay optimistic. next week we have a orientation for new grad students. and i might have to drive like an hr away. hate that#the driving i mean. not the orientation. that should b fun#unrelated
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bigbuffjoonie · 2 years ago
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THIS FIC WAS AMAZING YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE SORRY FOR!! I’M HAPPY TO READ ANYTHING YOU WRITE AND I AM HAPPY TO WAIT ANYTIME TO BE GRACED WITH YOUR WORKS OKAY!!!!
Awake? | Jin x Reader
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Pairing: (Soft-ish) Yandere Android Jin x  Reader 
Word Count: 8.0k
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Stalking (technically), Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jin), Choking (Not by Jin), Slapping (Not By Jin)
Note: This is based on the Playstation game Detroit Become Human
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview: Androids had always been incredibly efficient, that was their designed purpose after all, to make human life easier. And because of that, humans often chose the easier option. The human population had fallen to its lowest numbers in centuries and it was predicted that it would fall even more. Synthetic love was far more appealing than its organic counterpart. You could have anyone you wanted, they could look however you wanted, they would always be agreeable and it was achievable for a cost. 
A/N: A fair warning as always, this is not yet edited lol. I always feel so bad that I make you guys wait so long for a fic so I roll it out as quickly as possible. I don’t really anticipate this doing very well for a few reasons, but mainly because it’s so far from anything I’ve written before. Hopefully, some of you will enjoy it, and if you don’t I’m sorry I made you wait so long for something you didn’t want 😭 Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜
This fic is dedicated to @softie00 thank you so much for your encouragement, kindness, and help with making this work come to fruition 💜
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The world was almost nothing like it had been before. 
As a child, your grandparents had delivered you stories that were nothing more than fairytales to you. A world where trees enveloped the land in massive waves of emerald green that rivaled that of the ocean. It was a place where if you were quiet, patient, and lucky enough you could spot a family of deer grazing in your backyard. They spun tales of endless days of summer spent barefoot running through the grass while catching fireflies - something you had never seen outside of an image. 
The world that they knew had died a long time ago. It was their grandparents that had started it, and it was their generation that had finished it. 
What had once been a quiet suburban community was now dwarfed by hulking shapes of concrete, metal and glass. Artificial had taken over. What greenery was left was preserved, but no human civilian had been granted the right to step foot on that land, those small pockets that remained were left untouched and uninhabited by your kind. 
It wasn’t just your community that had become a city, a community that you had not been alive to remember, but everywhere else as well.
And it was because of the androids. 
The first one that had been revealed had shocked the entire world because of its human likeness - it was so perfect that even the trained eye was unable to decipher whether it was man or machine. And then suddenly the world was flooded with them. Factories began sprouting like uncontrollable weeds and around them grew cities that tore up the earth and cemented their place. The world had become a concrete jungle. 
Androids quickly began to multiply, their numbers rivaling even that of the human population. But they were much easier to spot now. Their programming had been changed to help with that, their mannerisms a bit more formal, their voices slightly stilted, and upon their temple was a small LED disk that symbolized their status. 
Androids had always been incredibly efficient, that was their designed purpose after all, to make human life easier. And because of that, humans often chose the easier option. The human population had fallen to its lowest numbers in centuries and it was predicted that it would fall even more. Synthetic love was far more appealing than its organic counterpart. You could have anyone you wanted, they could look however you wanted, they would always be agreeable and it was achievable for a cost. 
But not everyone could afford their own personal android, the basic models still being priced at around $8,000 and those androids were just for helping around the house. So the comfort industry boomed. Love hotels soon followed, places where you could rent an android for pleasure and have their memory bank wiped immediately after. Human interaction was no longer a necessary requirement but an option. 
And you, well, you couldn’t consider yourself all that much better. 
You wearily blinked, your eyes stinging from the bright LED light that hung above you. You huddled beneath your umbrella for protection from the thick torrents of rain as the sign flickered gently. 
“Awake?” The sign read, as if it were taunting you. 
A long string of nights filled with insomnia had led you to this point, pathetically drenched in rain as you stood outside of an android establishment. The comfort industry extended to all areas, not just pleasure. 
You hesitantly stepped through the sliding doors and were greeted by a dimly lit lobby. It was completely devoid of human life, but several androids were there attending to seemingly unnecessary tasks like dusting an already clean surface or straightening an unused pillow on one of the lounges. 
You hurriedly rushed by them, not wanting to garner too much attention as you already felt pretty pathetic about your situation. As soon as you stopped at the front desk, the android behind it greeted you. 
“Hello, my name is Celene, are you interested in our cuddle-bot service tonight?” She asked with a gentle smile. 
You cringed at the name, your finger digging into your palm in a show of anxiety as you forced a pleasant smile. It wasn’t the androids’ fault that some human had come up with such a belittling name for their service. 
“Yes, please,” You mumbled in response. 
“Alright, I’d be happy to get you started,” She grinned, her LED spinning yellow as she processed your command, “If you look at the screen to your right you can customize your visit. You can pick your android model, appearance, sex, duration of stay, and tailor your experience that will best help you achieve your desired goal for your visit. If you have any questions, I would be happy to help.” 
A glass screen beside you lit up revealing several multiple choice questions that you could answer such as: what is the reason for your visit? How long has this problem persisted? What do you find comforting? What scents do you prefer? So on and so forth. 
The questionnaire wasn’t exhaustive but it was not short by any means. But the quality of the service so far had begun to ignite some hope within you. This was the only other option you could think of to deal with your insomnia, you felt as if you had exhausted all other options. 
There was one section in particular that grabbed your attention, the final section titled “Scenario.”
“Celene, what does ‘Scenario,” mean?” You asked. 
“Scenario allows you to further customize your experience by enhancing the personality of your chosen android. It is similar to role-playing. We have a few options available. The boyfriend or girlfriend scenario will have a much more intimate approach whereas the caregiver scenario has a familial or parental approach, to name a few.” 
You pursed your lips in thought as you scrolled through the scenarios, pretending as if you hadn’t already chosen yours the second Celene has mentioned it. To put it lightly, you were just as starved of affection as you were of sleep. The whole debacle of synthetic versus organic love had affected your generation the hardest. The dating pool was halved by the presence of androids and as a result you had never dated anyone before.
But still, you read each scenario title before ultimately scrolling back and picking the one that you wanted: “Boyfriend Scenario.” 
The screen flashed, processing your commands, before switching to the last page. It was time to choose your android. The selection was surprisingly wide, but of course all androids fell in the same age bracket; all appearing youthful and beautiful so beautiful that it was almost uncanny. 
You bit your lip and furrowed your brows in thought as you swiped through all of the selections. There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with them, but you also didn’t know what exactly it was you were looking for. 
“May I make a suggestion, miss?” Celene asked, causing you to jump as you had forgotten her presence. “A new line has been released for testing, if you choose an android from that new model you will receive a discount for participating in the trial period.” 
While the service wasn’t too expensive, it was still money being taken away from your daily expenses and unfortunately you were never one to walk away from a good deal. That was something your mother had instilled in you with great success. 
And so, you agreed. Celene’s LED spun yellow once more before the page before you was filled with seven new images of androids. All of them had face molds you hadn’t seen before, each with their own charm and subtle imperfections that only served to make them more attractive and more human-like. But there was one in particular that caught your eye. 
There was something about him that gave you the feeling of a person you could pretend you were in a long-term relationship with. He had the boyfriend look to him. Maybe it was his longer slightly curly brown hair, his big brown eyes, or even his plush pouty lips. There was something about him that comforted you, something that felt like coming back to your warm bed on a cold rainy day. 
With a simple touch of your fingertip it was decided. 
“That one is a wonderful choice, it will be sure to help you get a good night’s sleep,” Celene nodded before smoothly rounding the desk, “If you follow me I will lead you to your room.” 
You followed Celene like a lost puppy, keeping close to her as she led you into the back of the building and through various hallways. The rest of the building was similar to the entrance. It was all lit with a soft yellow light that reflected off of the polished surfaces. But it was also eerily empty. You could only assume it was because everyone else had checked in much earlier than you had. That thought was far more comforting than the idea of being the only human being in the entire building. 
All of the hallways were lined with doors, there were so many that it almost seemed never ending. But maybe that was your insomnia laced brain playing tricks on you. After a short while Celene stopped in front of one door in particular that appeared no different or special from any of the other ones you had passed. 
“This door will only open with your fingerprint or in the case of an emergency during your stay. If there is anything you need your android can contact the front desk and I can prepare it for you. We hope that you enjoy your stay.” 
“Thank you, Celene,” You said with a slight jerk of your head and a tight lipped smile. 
“It is my pleasure,” She said before returning your smile and taking her leave. 
Once she disappeared around the corner you allowed yourself to let out a deep exhale, your shoulders relaxing as you were left alone. You were exhausted but you were also incredibly nervous. You were sure this was going to be awkward at first, there was nothing normal about cuddling someone the first time you met them. Although, he was probably used to it. He wasn’t human after all, he didn’t have those types of feelings or any at all really. 
So, with a swift crack of your neck, you pressed your thumb against the door plate and stepped inside once it slid open. 
The room was rather plain. Everything was white, gray, or a soft beige color and the furniture was very minimal. There was a comfortable looking bed, a decent sized couch, and some cushioned mats on the floor on the lower split level of the room. You could only assume it was to give you the option to choose what was most comfortable. 
You noticed that the walls were also screens. Some of them looked like they were disguised as windows, but with a close inspection you realized that they were simulation screens. You could choose the environment you wished to view. 
And, outside of those main features, he was there. 
When you had entered he was sitting on the ground, on the edge of the split level platform staring at the blank screens. But he was looking at you now, his head turned to look over his shoulder towards you. 
While the other androids you had met seemed human, he was the most human looking one you had ever seen. The smile that spread over his lips was infectious as he rose to greet you. 
“You’re home! But look at you, you’re completely soaked,” He tutted, pulling off your rain jacket and rushing to hang it up. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day, have you eaten?”
It took you a moment to respond, still taken aback by his fluid motions and manner of speaking. He was unlike any android you had ever met, that was for sure. He just seemed so unlike them. 
“Hello? Is anyone home?” He teased you, tapping you gently on the top of your head, “You must have had a long day if that was a hard question.”
“I ate,” You finally said, your fingers playing with one another awkwardly. 
“That’s good to hear, I’m very proud of you.” He said, smoothing out the locks of your hair his impish actions had disrupted. 
You couldn’t deny the warmth that flushed through your body from his praise. The older you got the less often you heard that someone was proud of you. And it was much more special when someone that looked the way he did told you that. 
“What’s your name?” You asked. 
His face twitched slightly, the lenses of his pupils dilating and contracting as his LED spun yellow. The pleasant smile dropped off of his face and it went stoic, like his programming was momentarily paused as he processed a dialogue that didn’t quite fit. It was chilling to see someone who once appeared so human drop their persona and show their hidden nature. It was another reminder that none of this was real. 
“What would you like to call me?” He finally asked, his expression still flat and devoid of simulated emotion. 
You were stumped for a moment and unnerved by his unblinking stare that refused to leave you. In a moment of panic you uttered the first male name that came to your mind, the name of a boy that you had a crush on in high school that never noticed you. 
“Jin? Is that okay, do you like that?” 
“My name is Jin,”  His LED spun blue, his eyes finally blinking once more as his subtle pleasant smile returned, “Silly girl, we’ve been together for so long and you can’t remember my name? If I didn’t think you were tired before, I definitely do now.” 
“Right, I’m sorry about that,” You apologized, it seemed like going along with it was the best answer you could come up with. 
“Come on sleepy girl, let’s get you ready for bed,” He hummed while grabbing you by the wrist and guiding you towards the bathroom where a set of comfortable looking sleepwear was laid out. “Take your time, I’ll be right outside.” 
Once the door closed and you were left alone you were able to relax for a moment. The tension in your shoulders wasn’t entirely from anxiety but now a result of the interest and excitement you couldn’t deny you had. While Jin had slipped up for a moment, when he was working as designed he was perfect. He wasn’t clingy but he also wasn’t distant. He was teasing but not hurtful, and he knew how to praise you. 
You were beginning to realize that there was some truth to what the others believed, androids could be easier. 
When you had finally changed and emerged from the bathroom you could see that Jin had been keeping himself busy in your absence. The lighting in the room had shifted, it had become dimmer and much more soothing. There was a scent in the air as well, one you recognized as what you had answered in your survey not that long ago. 
The android himself was pulling the blankets and sheets back from the bed, preparing it for you and you assumed himself as well. 
“There you are,” He said, pausing his work to cross the room, “I have everything ready, would you like to pick the environment tonight?” 
You gingerly retrieved the remote from his hands and swiftly scrolled through the options before picking your tried and true classic and floating it up on the simulation screens. The floor to ceiling windows that previously appeared to have their blinds closed were now open revealing a murky city skyline with soft lights accompanied by rain and thunder. It was not unlike the actual weather you had fought through to get there. 
“Hm, I think that’s everything then. Are you ready for bed?” He asked. 
“Let’s give it a try,” You said with a nod. 
Jin moved before you did, climbing into the bed easily and fluffing up the pillows behind him before looking up at you expectantly. 
God, this was so weird. 
You stiffly climbed in beside him and sank down into the mattress, allowing him to pull the blankets up over the both of you. You were closer to the edge of the mattress, purposefully trying to keep as much space between the two of you as possible despite paying for the opposite. You hadn’t shared a bed with someone since you were young and it had never been someone of the opposite gender. And while Jin wasn’t human, he still looked like a man and that was cause for some hesitance and shyness. 
Jin being the perfect android that he was quickly took notice of this. Instead of saying anything he raised his arm, opening up his chest to you while simultaneously pitching the blanket up. Quietly and slowly you shuffled across the mattress and allowed him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. 
You were momentarily startled by the discovery that he was warm and soft beneath your fingers like a real human body. And, even more surprisingly, there was a solid thump emanating from his chest right where your ear was pressed against. Androids operated on a fluid system, this meant that his pump had been placed in his chest much like a human heart. Whoever made him had done so with intricate detail and care to make him blend in as seamlessly as possible. The only thing that reminded you of his nature was the steady, soft blue swirl of his LED. 
“What are you thinking about?” He finally asked, his fingers now gently stroking a pattern across your cheek and up over your temple. It was repetitive, light, and evidently soothing as it spurred a yawn from you that was rather surprising. 
“This isn’t as scary as I thought it would be,” You admitted. That was partially the truth, but you thought it better you didn’t instill an existential crisis into the android by telling him about how human he seemed. 
“Why would sleeping with your boyfriend be scary?” The android chuckled. 
“Don’t say it like that!” You groaned, pressing your face further into his chest in utter embarrassment. 
The android hummed in response, curling his arms around you in a firmer hold, the compression soothing you as well as your anxiety. He seemed pleased with himself, like it had been his plan to embarrass you into his embrace. 
“There’s no reason to be scared of me, I’m here to take care of you,” He explained, smoothing his palm up and down your back in gentle strokes.
“That’s not what I was worried about.” 
“No? What were you worried about then?” 
“That this wouldn’t work.” 
A beat of silence followed but the android didn’t cease his soothing actions. You could tell from the gentle yellow glow from his temple that he was thoroughly processing your words. 
“You haven’t been able to sleep in a long time?” He finally asked. 
“No, not for a very long while.” 
“Can I ask why?” 
“It’s too quiet in my apartment. It’s just me and the loneliness sometimes becomes too much. Sometimes I go so many days alone that when I finally do see other people my voice doesn’t sound like my own and it hurts to talk. But I don’t even know anyone well enough to tell them about my life, my problems, or how I’m doing. And then by the time I get home and I finally lay down all of those thoughts become so loud in my head that sleep becomes impossible. And then I worry. I think about everything that bothers me. Every deadline, every irrational fear. It scares me so badly that sleep no longer becomes a possibility.” 
You’re utterly surprised by the word vomit that flies out of your mouth. You never expected that you would divulge all of your fears to an android that you just met. But Jin was good, he was amazing at comforting and as a result pulling out any information that he needed to comfort you better. 
“You’re not alone now though, are you?” 
“...No.” 
“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of. You can close your eyes and I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll make sure that you’re safe and I’ll be here when you wake up.” He says, his voice softer now. “I’ll take care of you.” 
It felt like you had been adrift in the ever growing expanse of space. Like you had been dragged into the void without a single spot of starlight. It was terribly cold, dark, and lonely. It was terrifying. But now, it’s warm. Where you had once been adrift you were now anchored. And it wasn’t so lonely anymore. 
You could feel your eyes tiring, it was becoming harder to keep them open each time you blinked. This was unfamiliar and startling, but the gentle touch of your android soothed you. You weren’t alone, it was safe to sleep. 
“It’s okay, don’t fight it. I’ll look after you,” Jin whispered, his soft lips brushing over your forehead in a barely there kiss. 
And, as if he had given you permission, you allowed your eyes to fall shut and felt the soft lull of sleep pull you under. 
~~~~~~~
Androids were not meant to think. They were not created to care, but to serve. Unfortunately for him, he was made with the purpose to fulfill both of those things. To serve, and to care. But not to be human. 
That very idea itself was flawed. 
It was easy to follow protocol, to monitor your respiration, your heart rate, and your REM cycle. But it was harder to formulate a way to care for you. That required abstraction and abstraction is a very human thing. 
Jin, as you had called him although he had had many different names, knew that he was different from the other androids he had encountered. They lacked dimension, they were computers with bodies, and he was something else entirely. But he was a being still bound by code and design. It was difficult to put a label as to what he was. 
And with you, that label became even harder to define. He had a database full of information about human interaction and physical touch, yet his programming was stumped by you. You were unnecessarily kind, you didn’t call him “it,” and you didn’t demand anything of him. You were unlike the other patrons he had cared for before. You treated him like he was human and that was something he had never experienced before. 
It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t logical. 
He found himself staring at you now, your cheek flush with his chest and your hand curled into the fabric of his shirt like you were anchoring yourself to him - afraid that he would leave you as you dreamt. You were by no means perfect, he had never met someone who looked perfect when they were unconscious, but you were by all means adorable. If he were human, he could say that he liked you, that he enjoyed your presence. 
But he wasn’t human, and this was his purpose. Nothing more, nothing less. That was what his programming demanded. 
And even though he knew that to be true, even though he knew that you were asleep and no longer required comforting, there was something else inside him that drove him to subconsciously cup your face with one hand and gently stroke the skin there. 
He could blame it once again on his programming, afterall the boyfriend experience protocol was driving his shell of a body, but there was this thrum inside of him. This feeling like he was trapped behind a glass wall and on the verge of breaking through it and finally taking control of his body. 
It was wrong.
He was aware of the others that he was dangerously close to becoming like. Androids who were infected, ridden with a virus that corrupted their code and made them operate as if they were human. It made them think that they could feel. They were glitched, turncoats, deviants. And that was a sure fire way to be decommissioned and scrapped for parts. 
But it was okay, that wouldn’t be him. He didn’t want anything, he couldn’t feel. It wasn’t anxiety that scrambled his processor, it was overstimulation from too much input. And if he could keep convincing himself that that was the truth, then he could avoid being decommissioned. He could keep seeing you. 
You. 
You were still asleep, blissfully unaware of the android at your side whose “mind” was racing. You didn’t need him right now, he didn’t need to be on still. And so, in an effort to quiet himself, he entered sleep mode. 
This was the closest he would get to being human. This was the closest he would get to you. And from the outside, it certainly did look like two human lovers entwined, coming back to one another after a long day apart. 
He too could pretend. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke up he was still there, just like he had promised you. His warm touch was still there, cocooning you in a perfect embrace. He was awake, if that was what you could call it. There was a soft smile gracing his lips as he looked down at you, the still rising sun making his synthetic skin glow. 
“How did you sleep?” He spoke first. 
You blinked slowly, trying to shake the clinging threads of sleep from you before you could speak. And, as you fully woke up, you realized with a start that you had slept through the entire night. A task that had been so hard for so many years had been easily managed by him. 
“I’ve never slept better,” You admitted with a gentle smile of your own. 
“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” He said, the new term of endearment sending warmth throughout your body, “Do you really have to go to work today?” 
Still in character, he was able to remind you of the impending end of your session. 
“You could stay, just for a little longer if you wanted to. We could have the rest of the morning to ourselves.” 
“I really wish I could, but I have to go.” 
A look of disappointment and sadness washed over his face and for a brief moment you could have sworn despair flickered over his features before an unsettling stoicness masked those simulated emotions. It was like his program was forcibly shut down. There was something upsetting about seeing him be filed away, about seeing Jin removed and the android returned. 
You readied yourself for the day in silence, your body tense as you worried over Jin. It was clear that he wasn’t there anymore. His programming had been terminated when you declined to lengthen your session. You couldn’t understand the instant connection you felt with him, you could only chalk it up to the lack of attention and affection you had felt in your life. The comfort he had brought you, the gentle touches, the soothing smiles and words, it all had messed with your mind and in turn, your heart. 
You lingered at the door of the room, his room. You couldn’t help but look back at him sadly. He was seated back where you had seen him for the first time the night before, on the ledge leading to the bottom split level. His back was facing you, you were unable to make out his expression but you were certain it was flat. Just a machine waiting for further instruction. 
You hesitated, then swallowed, “Jin?” 
He didn’t move. 
“Will you
will you remember this? Me? At all?” You asked. 
“Company policy dictates that the service androids memory banks be wiped within fifteen minutes of the end of the session in order to protect the privacy of the client.” He replied, his voice flat. 
Your heart fell into your stomach. 
You slowly approached him before sitting down beside him on his step. His gaze remained trained ahead of him, staring at a blank simulation screen.
“There isn’t a way that you can remember me?”
Silence. 
“Jin?” His chin slightly jerked this time, something so subtle it could have been a muscle twitch if he were human. 
“If the client were to make follow up sessions the data would be maintained and preserved. That of course comes with additional expenses.” 
You pursed your lips in thought, your brows drawn together in concentration. It was easy to make a decision based on your emotions. Selfishly, you wanted him to remember you. You didn’t want him to forget about you like he had countless others. You didn’t want to be like the others. 
You wanted to be special. 
There was also the fact that you knew just a taste of what he had to offer would never be enough. Now that you knew he could help you, could give you the affection you were starved of, you wanted to keep him. It was a sound investment, it was a necessity. You needed him. 
You let out a shaky breath and acted quickly before you could change your mind. You leaned forward and gently pressed a quick, shy kiss to his warm cheek. The android jerked in what could only be described as surprise before finally looking at you. The lenses of his eyes dilated and then shrunk in a fraction of a second. He was seeing you, really seeing you. 
You left quickly after that, far too flustered to look at his beautiful face any longer after what you had done. That, and you had several more sessions to book in advance. 
But, if you had lingered for a moment as the door swung shut you would have noticed the flash of emerald green that filled the room, the subtle chirp of wildlife, and the gentle thrum of thunder and light patter of rain. 
The screens displayed a forest you hadn’t chosen.
~~~~~~~
He remembered you. And while that was good, that was also part of the problem.
He hated having other clients. And while there weren’t too many, there were enough that it bothered him. He often found himself replaying his stored memories of his time spent with you when he should have been monitoring his clients. It was a dangerous thing to do, if he was found out his memory would definitely be wiped for interfering with his service. 
But the more time he spent with you, the harder it was to remind himself that he shouldn’t feel or think anything. He was parts, a computer, strings of ones and zeroes, he shouldn’t think or feel anything. 
He didn’t want to be decommissioned - he didn’t want to die. But he also didn’t want to let go of you. That was no longer an option. 
He knew you could see it too, you could see him slowly becoming human. And you did everything but discourage him. You asked him how his day was, what he did while he waited for you, what his favorite color was, what his favorite song was - questions no human had ever bothered to ask him before. And scarily enough he found he did have preferences which he shouldn’t have had in the first place. His favorite song was your favorite song, his favorite color was the color of your eyes, and all he ever thought about while he waited was you. 
He had never wanted anything before, he never had desire. But now, he truly desired you. What he would give to keep you there with him, or better yet to come home with you. Then he could have you all to himself and he wouldn’t have to tend to other clients. 
In the beginning, his program demanded that he treat you like his “girlfriend.” But at this point, he wasn’t sure where protocol began and his desires ended. 
Even now as his new client entered the room he replayed his memories of you, the simulation screen alive with the forest. He was remembering the last time he had seen you, just another one of your many visits. 
You had looked healthier than he had ever seen you. The tired, sickly look on your face had long ago disappeared and the slouch of your shoulders was replaced with confidence. He felt satisfied that he had done his job well, but he was far more satisfied with the knowledge that you were happier because of him. 
“Welcome home, did you have a good day?” He asked with genuine interest. 
“It was good enough, what about you?”
“It was good because I knew I would see you.” He said with a grin and a dramatic wink. 
“I just got here and you’re already starting with me.” You rolled your eyes, a display of just how comfortable you had become around him. 
“I can’t help it, you’re cute when you're flustered.” 
“Alright, I’m leaving,” You teased, turning dramatically and shrugging your jacket back on. 
The LED on his temple spun yellow, his hands trembled. His body moved without thinking and he quickly grabbed hold of your arm. You were startled, he could tell by your wide eyed, confused expression. 
“No, don’t go.” He begged, his voice sounded breathless and even frightened. 
You had spent many sessions with the android, and not once had you ever detected fear in his voice. You didn’t even think it was possible, what purpose would that have in his programming? 
Once more, you were reminded of just how human the android seemed. There was a nagging suspicion in the back of your mind, an article you had read, a news story you had heard in passing about androids like him. But you didn’t want to admit that there was anything wrong with him, not when he had helped you more than he could possibly know. 
“I’m not going anywhere, it’s okay.” 
That seemed to calm him down, his hold on your arm loosening but not leaving. If you didn’t know any better you would think that he looked self conscious, anxious even, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. 
That night, you cared for him instead. 
There was a random moving playing in the background, the lights were dimmed, and the simulation screens were drawn shut. Your back was resting against the headboard of the bed while the android laid his head on your lap, his legs curled up and his arm wrapped around your thighs. Your fingers were mindlessly sifting through his hair, twirling the longer strands towards the bottom. His eyes had fluttered shut and his LED was thrumming a soft blue. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he was asleep. 
Your heart shuddered as you stared at him, it wasn’t the first time that you had thought about how beautiful he was. He was everything you had ever wanted. He was funny, sweet, caring, and he made you feel as if you were perfect. You had never felt like that before. All your life you had been compared to the female modeled androids that were readily available. They were stunning, they always smiled, they were nurturing, and they always obeyed - they never disagreed. 
But you also realized that you were no better than the men you had been surrounded by. Because here you were, finding comfort in an android instead of a “real” man. At the end of the day, you were paying for company. Jin only remembered you because he had to, it was his purpose. You weren’t special, you wanted to be, but you weren’t. 
At that moment, you made a difficult decision. It was going to be your last night with Jin. You were human, he was an android. There was no future in that. You couldn’t keep coming back to him for the rest of your life, wasting away because you were a sad, lonely human who couldn’t find companionship with your own kind. If you didn’t end it soon then you never would. 
You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you traced the gentle contours of his face. You hadn’t intended to lie to him but you were going to have to leave him. You need to learn how to live your own life. 
“Jin?” You whispered, your voice cracking from barely concealed emotion. 
He slowly opened his eyes as he rolled over on your lap to face you, his big brown eyes staring up at you.
“Can I kiss you?” 
The pump in his chest quickened, an occurrence which he could not explain. He had clients order him to do that before, if it comforted and helped them he was required to do it. But no one had ever asked him, he had always been ordered. 
His LED was spinning rapidly, the bright yellow hue flashing in the darkness. He was processing, thinking over everything quickly. Instead of saying anything, he propped himself up on his elbow and gently took hold of your jaw before leaning in and connecting your lips with his own. 
It was soft, warm, and sweet. Everything that you had expected it to be. But his gentle touches broke your heart, how were you supposed to leave when you had grown to care about him so much? It was hard to remember that he was a machine when his lips felt so gentle and warm, when his touch cooled your burning skin, and his strong hands pulled you into his lap. It felt like he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. 
But you knew better, it was his programming, he had to satisfy his client. That was why you refused to let it go any further and that was why you knew you wouldn’t be coming to your next session. 
You weren’t special. 
“Is this it then?” His current client huffed, stalling his memory as well as the swipe of his finger over his lower lip as he remembered your shy, hesitant kiss. 
His client had been huffing and puffing for the past fifteen minutes, tossing and turning on her side - your side - of the bed in an attempt to garner his attention. He was failing to serve his purpose. 
“Is something wrong?” He finally asked, giving her the attention she desired. 
“I’m bored and unsatisfied. I paid all of this money just to lay here while you do nothing.” She grunted. 
“Is there anything I can do to help improve your experience?” His programming took over. 
A sudden look overcame her features, one that he couldn’t decipher but also knew he shouldn’t like. She tossed the blankets aside and crawled over to him, slinging her leg over his and climbing into his lap. He tensed beneath her touch, confused as to what she was doing. 
“If I’m paying all of this money for you, I figure I should get my time well spent,” She explained, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. 
His LED spun yellow, he didn’t like this. He didn’t want this, this wasn’t what his purpose was. 
“My purpose is to help you sleep -” 
“Then help me by tiring me out. You’re telling me people pay just to sleep here? That’s a load of crap. You’re no better than the bots at the fucking Eden Club.” She sneered. 
The Eden Club, that was the “love hotel” in the seedier parts of the city. If she wanted that type of comfort she could have gone there. 
“My purpose is -” 
“Shut the fuck up!” She snapped, bringing her hand down across his face in one clean slap that snapped his head to the side. 
It didn’t hurt, he didn’t have pain sensors, but it was surprising. It was scary. 
“I’m sick and tired of your fucking mouth,” She hissed. 
And then she was wrapping her hand around his throat, squeezing hard and pinning him down. He didn’t need to breathe, it didn’t hurt even though her nails had sliced through his synthetic skin and blue blood was rolling down his throat. 
It didn’t hurt, he didn’t need to breathe, but he didn’t like it, he was scared.
He was scared. 
He wanted to fight back, he wanted to throw her off and run but he couldn’t. He was locked down, his programming reminding him of the number one rule: never harm a human. 
But his processor was scrambling. The room was green from the simulation screens, wild life chirped, she was tugging at his clothes, his blood was gliding down his neck, he couldn’t fucking move, and then there was you. 
You. He didn’t want anyone to touch him, except for you. 
It felt like he was throwing himself against solid glass - spider cracks slowly but surely spreading along its surface with each violent attack until it finally shattered and fell apart. And he could move. 
He ripped her hand off of his throat and threw her off the bed, her body colliding so harshly with the hardwood floors that she rolled and cried out in pain. 
His LED was a striking, vibrant red that pulsed in the dark. The fight for freedom was violent, and that was ensured when he grabbed hold of the lamp off of the night stand and connected it with her head over and over again until she couldn’t think or feel anything any more. Just like a machine. 
Her red blood pooled onto the floor, soaking into the wood and everything it touched. He could see it all over his white shirt - feel the stickiness of it all over his hands, forearms, and face. 
He was awake. 
But as he felt immense relief, he also felt frightened. He was feeling everything all at once - happiness, anger, disgust, and fear. He had violated his prime directive. In his first moments of freedom he had killed a human being. And while the feeling of her blood on his skin disgusted him and sent unpleasant chills through his wiring he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad. She was disgusting. 
But he was panicking at the thought of his impending decommissioning. So he ran, he tore out of the building he had been in his entire life and took to the dark city streets. He already knew where he was going, he had pulled up your client profile from his data banks the minute he had stepped outside. He knew where you lived, had known this entire time, but now he was able to fulfill his wish. Finally, he would be the one coming home to you. 
He could see your window of your apartment, the light was still on. Of course it was, you couldn’t sleep without him - you needed him just as much as he needed you. You were meant for each other. You needed to be taken care of and it was his job to take care of you. Even with his freedom he could see that goal flashing in his visual pathways - “Comfort your partner.” 
He pounded on your door in rapid succession, not stopping until he heard your light footsteps approach and the door creaked open. You barely opened it a crack but that was enough for him to wedge his hand in between the door and its frame and force it open completely with his inhuman strength. 
You stumbled backwards with a shriek of fright, convinced that someone was breaking into your apartment only for you to be stumped by the sight of your android slamming the door shut behind him. 
“Jin? What are you doing here?” You managed to ask. To say you were surprised wasn’t even the beginning of it. 
“I’m home.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling with joy. 
“Oh - oh my god, what is that?!” You yelped, stepping away from him in fear as you finally caught sight of the blood all over his body. It was soaked into his shirt and pants, smeared over his hands and arms, and specks of it were sprayed over his face like gruesome freckles. 
You knew that didn’t belong to him, his own “blue blood” stuck out in vibrant streaks down his throat. 
“You’re scared,” He said, the smile falling from his face, “what’s wrong?” 
He took a few steps forward only for you to scramble backwards, sliding around your kitchen counter in an attempt to try and barricade yourself from him. He was painted with human blood, you didn’t want to find out how it had gotten there. 
He still didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything wrong, well nothing wrong to you. Why were you shutting him out? He
he loved you, didn’t you love him? You had kissed him, you had comforted him. You had to love him too. 
When he got too close your eyes shifted to your bedroom door behind him and you foolishly decided to make a run for it. You didn’t make it far, the android was too fast. He easily wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back into his chest - holding you tightly as you whimpered and thrashed like a wild animal caught in a snare. 
“Comfort your partner” - his protocol still read. 
“Shhh, it’s okay,” He cooed, his voice soft beside your ear, “Just relax, everything is fine. I’m here, I love you.” 
His touch was leaving behind bloody handprints on your shirt and on your cheek as he cupped your face in an attempt to get you to look at him. Your body had finally fallen limp as you realized there was no fighting him. 
You had tried denying it for so long, but Jin was corrupted. He had a virus like those others you had heard about. And he was dangerous. He said that he loved you, he held you like he loved you, kissed you like he loved you, but he was a murderer. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had murdered for you. 
These were the consequences of falling in love with a machine. These were the consequences of an unnatural, artificial affection. 
“I’m home now, it’s okay, neither of us ever has to be alone ever again.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple and then your cheek. 
“Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged, a tear finally breaking free and cutting through the streak of red he had left behind on your face. 
“I would never hurt you, I want to take care of you. I want to love you.” 
He carefully scooped you up and carried you into your room, the place you had tried to escape to before was now a cage for you and your android. He climbed into your bed with you still in his grasp and proceeded to go through his usual routine of comforting you before bed. Although this time the sheets were stained red, his grip was a little too tight, and his LED was a rich red. Everything was red. 
In the most twisted way possible, you had gotten your wish. You were special. 
“It’s okay, don’t fight it. I’ll look after you,” Jin whispered, his familiar words taking on an entirely new meaning as you lost the tension in your body. Your arms that were locked out, pushing you away from him, collapsed and allowed him to pull you into his chest.
You could feel his nose pressed against your hair, his hands soothing over your back, his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. He was acting like nothing had changed, like the two of you had never left that place. Like you would be able to relax in his embrace.
Before, your room had been a part of your insomnia. Now, you were certain you would never be able to sleep again. 
Your world was almost nothing like it had been before.
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#i love android fics so much#is it the fact that something without feeling is so moved by the main character that they burst to life idk but#whenever I see android I say SIGN ME THE FUCK UP#so so sorry for the caps lock I hope it’s conveyed properly that your fic is amazing and appreciated AS ARE YOU!!#also the line where in a twisted way you got your wish. you were special#CHEF KISS!!!#yn is special like imagine being so nice that a robot literally breaks thru it’s own binary code to be with you#granted this one is covered in blood and murdered someone on the way to be with you but YKNOW LOL#this fic demonstrates rlly well the consequences of reliance on androids including intimacy#at the same time bc I’m an old lady I view it like well if this is how mankind treats androids like that one lady then perhaps it’s deserved#the fact that Jin had a thought process to begin with was an indicator he was different I think#whoever developed jin and the other robots in that line must be packing up their shit and shutting everything down lmao#do the androids report what happened when they see the corpse or?? is there even a protocol for that??#imagine they try to recall the other 6 and they go rogue too lmao#7 cuddlebots on the loose#bad enough with 1 on the loose after commuting a crime#yn sweetie I’m so sorry#this fic was so good I’m gonna be thinking about this one for a long while lol#i really enjoyed this one thank you!! 💕💕💕#anyways back to me gushing about the story#the premise was so interesting how there are love and cuddle hotels and how the rooms can be changed to imitate nature#like the greenery that just isn’t there anymore#and the detail where comfort your partner comes up despite jins freedom was so cool#like this whole fic was really cool I hope you know that!#also $8000 damn thats expensive god knows how much the robots that do healthcare would be#love how Jin doesn’t bother to wash off the blood he’s like immediately ✹hug✹
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rosesnbooks · 4 months ago
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Astrology observations #5đŸ–€
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🌜I wrote these for fun, based on how i see these placements. i'm not a professional! hope you enjoy these🌛
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⭐cancer placements allow themselves to feel their emotions. they may get annoyed by the intensity or the amount of them, but they process them fully, and this makes it easier for them to move on. random thought but writing letters to people they like may be something they do or did as kids haha. they're very romantic
⭐some aries venuses have obsessive tendencies when they have a crush, and they get frustrated a lot if they think they can't/shouldn't pursue them. they enjoy the tension, but they don't want it to last too long because they dislike not being in control, and having feelings for someone leaves them feeling too vulnerable. that's why they try to move on if they can, but it takes work. when they do find someone, they become really clingy but they still need freedom when it suits them
⭐mars in libra avoid conflicts and try to be reasonable about everything, but if they think you crossed a line, you'll see why aries is their sister sign pretty soon. once they tell you off, you'll never see them the same way, so underrestimate them at your cost
⭐having stelliums can be interesting. it for sure puts a lot of emphasis on the influence of that house on your life, and i found that it can be both positive and negative since they face lots of challenges related to their house but also many blessings. those who have stelliums kind of embody multiple characteristics simultaneously
⭐sun in the 11th people glow when they are with their closest friends. they also tend to dream big and care a lot about the world. their friends usually help them in their future goals. they feel a bit different than people in their hometown/country, mostly because they cannot be tied down to a single culture because they enjoy different things, which usually makes them quite open-minded and tolerant. they can be picky about the people they let in super close though
⭐mars in the 6th can procrastinate a lot actually, but they get things done. may get sudden waves of high energy and get things done rapidly and extensively. they expect a lot from themselves regarding their ambitions and aspirations. they try to improve themselves in any way most of the time, but they should also accept their current state if they want to evolve and love themselves. they need to watch out for their moral perfectionism too. it's okay to make mistakes as long as you apologise and strive to change for the better
⭐i've found that virgo mercuries can be really direct, even if they are shy or don't talk much around strangers or acquaintances, they have their moments. super funny too
⭐north node in cancer struggle with accepting their vulnerable side. they hate feeling like things and people can evoke strong emotions in them. they want to be more detached, but those that work on themselves find it very rewarding once they embrace their strong emotions. they can also be really reliable, practical, and thoughtful
⭐fire+water combinations in birth charts-i am sending you a hug. i know exactly how difficult it is to keep all those emotions under check, and that you need a lot of understanding and rest to function. use those emotions and passions well hun, you are strong and capable. you have a lot of empathy and wonder inside of you
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⭐capricorn sun/mercury have a dry way of texting. their humor is difficult to read via text and they simply are not fans of texting, and it shows lol
⭐aries mercuries are not always available online and they may come and go when they're online, but they'll answer all of your messages one by one with lots of enthusiasm. they also like to send memes and joke around a lot
⭐virgo mercuries are not fans of texting and they can answer you after a couple of days or so even if they really like you. similarly to aries, they'll make sure they answer everything and they also pay attention to every detail you mention. very sweet really. their humor shines brighter in person
⭐taurus moon are very capable. they may prefer rest over anything else, but their patience and dedication to the things they need to do is really cool. they are calm most of the time so it's nice to be around them, just don't disrespect them and everyone will thrive
⭐taurus venus men can be really possessive. even if you like such behavior, some can go to extremes and try to control how you feel, think, and behave. they have a specific image of an ideal partner and they want you to fulfill it
⭐libra venus tend to care about how they look and present themselves so they put lots of effort into that. they also have standards when it comes to beauty and some expect others to dress and look well, whether they know them or not
⭐women with venus in aquarius-you may be attracted to men who are mysterious and act like they're special. just be careful because there are so many toxic ones out there who want a relationship but not truly, because they don't want to dedicate themselves to you and maybe plan on using you
⭐pisces moon can feel like they're drowning in their own emotions sometimes because they cannot control them easily and they tend to give in. if they like to portray themselves as a martyr these emotions can get out of hand because they let those emotions lead them which influences their mental health and relationships. those who are developed process these emotions and try to figure them out and let them pass. they can learn a lot about themselves and others this way. creative outlets can be of help to process this
⭐leo moon need to watch out for hurting people when their ego is hurt because they can lash out and make lots of damage. take a second to think whether it's worth it or not, since there is no point in trying to "win" in a fight with someone you love
⭐pisces mars can be too forgiving, especially to those they care about. don't let people walk over you dear, no matter who they are. nobody deserves that kind of treatment
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thank you for reading!đŸ€i also offer paid astrology readings, so check out my blog for more info
©rosesnbooks
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reiderwriter · 5 months ago
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🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯
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Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)
Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?
Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.
A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?
Masterlist || Bingo Board
“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 
“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 
“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 
“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.
“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”
“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 
“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but
” 
“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 
“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”
The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 
“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”
The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you
 well, you were great at directing him. 
“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”
“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.
“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 
“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.
Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 
Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 
“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 
“It seems like you had experience.”
“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No
experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.
You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 
“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 
“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”
You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 
But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 
“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 
“Hi.”
“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 
“I
 I thought we could..”
You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 
“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.
“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 
“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 
“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”
“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 
“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 
"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."
You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 
“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 
“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 
As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.
You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 
“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”
“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 
You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 
You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 
You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.
“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 
Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 
They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 
You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 
With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 
“Fuck, Y/N
”
“How does it feel?” 
“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.
You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 
“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 
“I want you to burn me.” 
His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 
You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  
His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 
“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 
Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 
You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 
“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 
It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 
You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 
Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.
“Good job
 Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 
He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.
“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 
You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 
He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 
Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 
“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 
“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 
He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 
“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
Text
blood moonlit, must be counterfeit
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)
wc: 1.68k
cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”
“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”
“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”
“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 
The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 
“Who’d you come to the party with?”
“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”
“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.
“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 
“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”
“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”
“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”
“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”
“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.
“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt
” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 
“What about him?”
“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 
“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”
“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.
“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 
“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”
“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 
Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 
“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“See what, gorgeous?”
“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.
Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 
“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”
“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”
“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 
“If someone messes with us?”
“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 
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Note
BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.
Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.
Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.
7.15am
Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.
By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.
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This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.
Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.
What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.
8.39 am
Fun fact!
When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.
Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.
Another fun fact!
If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.
What fun facts.
At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.
(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)
10.41am
Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.
Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.
11.20am
Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today.  Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech.  Let's see some quotes!
On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:
“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”
Fair, but also you are a government, George.
On Tories who attack the civil service:
“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right." 
... right. But you just... Uh.
On Tory culture warriors:
“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead
 and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”
Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.
1pm
Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.
But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.
Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
3.45pm
Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.
The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.
3.50pm
Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.
Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.
The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.
The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”
*
On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.
3.56pm
The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.
Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.
An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO
3.57pm
Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.
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I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.
4.12pm
Good tweet alert!
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5.08pm
Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.
He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?
Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).
Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.
Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.
An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.
Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals.  His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.
*
(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.
Why were they offered at all, do you think?)
*
So 
 this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant.  Like, actually.  Genuinely.
Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.
5.44pm
The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:
Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden.  He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".
Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office.  At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.
Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened
Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew.  Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.
Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:
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What a sea of punchable faces.
7.58pm
But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:
Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?
The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.
Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.
This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.
8.02pm
Boris Johnson
QUITS
as an MP
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The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.
He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!
"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".
Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.
(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”??  What are you planning, Big Dog??  I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)
8.41pm
Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.
11.43pm
And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:
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Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.
Not a bad finish.
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ktownshizzle · 25 days ago
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Terms & Conditions | Chapter 3
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader
Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?
Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au
Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, I might include scootergate in a future chapter but please know it will be written sensibly imo and with so much love for our Yoongi (I just wanna protecc him at all costs even thru this silly story!), some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range
Chapter Warnings: reader vs IKEA furniture, 1k words about Yoongi's hands, second-hand embarrassment, more cracktastic internal monologues, a tiny bit of angst
Word count: 7k (approx. 30 mins to read)
Posting date: October 19, 2024
Notes: Very Yoongi-coded of me to work through my sickness. So, yes, behold an update, while I am in the throes of flu. Enjoy~
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Masterlist
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Sometimes, the mediocrity in this office is just unbelievable. You’ve put in a request for a filing cabinet so that you can organize the copious amount of paperwork that’s been accumulating in your little space that has overtaken yours and Yoongi’s desks. That was two months ago. It finally arrives today, still in its flat box packaging.
Great.
You’ve been staring at the pieces of the Ikea furniture for what feels like an hour, trying to make sense of the instructions. Of course, they’re all diagrams and singular letters and numbers—just a bunch of arrows pointing to nuts and bolts that apparently hold this whole thing together.
Btw, where the heck is Yoongi?! He’s usually pretty punctual. Pretty and punctual. Hmm. Anyway

Just as you’re about to abandon your unwanted task to write a strongly worded email to the procurement department, Yoongi strolls in your office, oblivious to the war inside your mind.
“You’re late,” you blurt.
Caught off guard, and wholly unused to your raging bitch tendencies, Yoongi looks like a deer caught in headlights, mumbling, “Sorry, I uh I just got this scooter and am still—”
Is he pouting? OH god

“No, no
” you backtrack, not meaning to sound haughty at all. “You’re fine. I don’t really—sorry, I’m just in a mood.”
Yoongi nods, assessing the pile of rubble you are on, as he sets his helmet and bag on the desk. He takes a spot on the floor next to you, leans over to squint at the same set of instructions, and decides, “This shouldn’t be that hard.”
You roll your eyes, picking up a random board. “Yeah, says the guy who hasn’t tried yet.”
Wordlessly, Yoongi pulls the screwdriver from your hand and the nearest piece of wood, starting to line everything up. You expect him to struggle, because he’s an idol–LOL–he can’t be that good at this, maybe marginally better than you, but nothing to write home about.
Boy, you are so, so, spectacularly wrong. Chae would be laughing at you later that night as you recount this gross misjudgment on your part and would proceed to send you the link to Run BTS episode 148 and as you watch it in your bed with a sheet mask on you’d be like the fuck is wainscoting??
But for now, you are decidedly a non-believer, even as Yoongi moves through the steps with surprising ease, piecing it together like he’s done this a million times before.
“Hold this,” he says, passing you one of the boards to brace while he screws in the side panels. His fingers brush yours as he adjusts the position, and it’s then that you notice his hands.
Well, you’ve noticed his hands before, but this time it’s different. You watch as his long fingers grip the screwdriver, veins running along the back of his hand, disappearing beneath his shirt sleeve, flexing with every twist. It’s oddly mesmerizing—beautiful, if you’re honest with yourself. They look perfectly balanced between grace and ruggedness, bone structure firm, but the skin warm and soft.
God, those hands
 Your mind flashes to places it shouldn’t, and you quickly look away. You clear your throat, as you wrestle with thoughts of those hands wrapping tenderly around your throat. 
Holy shit.
He’s completely focused on aligning the screws, while you’re completely unfocused thinking about how you’d very much like for y’all to screw.
Wow. You are a fuckin’ pervert. And so shit at double entendres.
As he continues to work, you can’t help but observe his fingers as they move with precision. Long, lithe, bony in all the right places. Delicate, yet also powerful. And then there are those lovely veins—they pulse slightly with each motion, as his fingers curl effortlessly around the tool like it’s second nature. 
It’s way too easy to imagine those hands doing something else entirely. Something that has nothing to do with Ikea furniture. Everything to do with you. Naked, ideally. Now, preferably.
OK Stop. Stop right now.
With a shaky exhale, you force yourself to focus on holding the cabinet in place, but the mental image is seared into your brain now. There’s something unfair about how attractive Yoongi’s hands are—how much control they have, how easily they move, how they make your brain go berserk.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, his voice breaking through your thoughts.
“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you haven’t said anything for a minute.
He blinks blankly at you and doesn’t say more, just passes to you a handful of screws. You take them from him, swallowing the lewd thoughts racing through your mind.
As he finishes screwing the rest of the pieces together, his thumb grazes along the edge of the board, and your eyes trail after it like you’re hypnotized. You bite your lip, trying to focus on anything else. Anything but how good his hands look. Did you seriously just discover a fetish right now?
He shifts closer to tighten something, and you’re hit with the warmth of his body, plus the faint scent of his soap. Your heartbeat picks up, but you stay silent, pretending this is all fine, like you’re not on the verge of asking him to stop and just drag you to the back office closet to fuck.
Sweat is dripping down your neck at the sheer self control you are exercising at the moment. You need him to hurry the fuck up, because there’s already an uncomfortable wetness in your underwear and you need to deal with it stat. 
He inspects one of the wood pieces and knocks on it as if to test its strength and you study his knuckles, slightly prominent dappled with subtle brownish-pinkish marks perhaps from boxing.
Honestly, that’s so hot.
Yoongi finishes tightening one side and sits back, leaning on his hands, fingers splayed out on the floor. You glance down, and oof there they are again—those damn hands, long and elegant, resting on the floor like they’re mocking you. You wonder, just briefly, what it would feel like if those palms were pressed up against you, instead of the floor. Will those hands be gentle, rough, will he be the type to leave marks

You’re staring. Definitely staring.
Yoongi clears his throat softly, and you snap your eyes up to his face. He’s watching you now, head tilted slightly, lips pressed into a line that looks suspiciously like he’s holding back a smile. There’s a knowing glint there—of course he’s caught you, but he’s not going to call you out for it.
“Want to hand me that last piece?” he asks, voice calm but with that little hint of amusement in it. He motions toward the final panel lying next to you, hand outstretched.
You quickly pass it to him, avoiding his gaze completely. His fingers brush yours when he takes it, slow, deliberate. 
Oh shit, he definitely knows.
He lines up the final piece of the cabinet and starts screwing it in, but there’s a shift in the air now. You force yourself to focus on what’s in front of you—on the fact that you’re literally just building a cabinet and not having an existential crisis over someone’s hands. 
You glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but he’s focused on the task again, his lips slightly parted as he concentrates. You catch yourself staring at his lips now and quickly look away before he can notice that, too.
Finally, he finishes tightening the last screw, sitting back to admire the completed cabinet. “There. Not so bad, right?”
You breathe out a laugh, the tension in your chest finally easing. “Yeah. Thanks for saving my ass with this.”
Yoongi shrugs, wiping his hands on his slacks. “It was easy enough. I think you were just overthinking it.”
You roll your eyes, feeling more at ease now that the project’s done. “Well, maybe if I had hands like yours, I wouldn’t have struggled.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and your face ignites.
Fuckkkk stupid fuckk dumbass bitchhh
He glances at you, eyebrows raised, then looks at his hands, flexing his fingers like he’s just realizing what you’ve said. He’s silent for a second, and then, “My hands?” There’s that barely-there smirk on his face, subtle but unmistakable.
You scramble to recover. “You know what I mean,” you mumble, grabbing a stray screw off the floor, wishing it would just swallow you whole.
Mercifully, he doesn’t push it further. Just chuckles softly, leaning back against the wall, his gaze flicking to you for a beat longer. “You’re welcome,” he says simply.
He stretches his fingers one last time before stuffing them in his pockets. “They’re at your service, whenever you need them.”
Cheeky bastard.
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“Yes, mom, I won’t be late,” you tell Chae as you tug your high-waisted leggings into place, your phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder.
“Ok. See ya!” 
Finally you smooth the fabric of your sports bra in the office bathroom mirror, turning slightly to check your reflection. The purple set hugs your body in all the right places, accentuating your curves and giving you that boost of confidence you hadn’t realized you needed. You’re not perfect by any stretch, but something about this fit makes you stand a little taller, feel a little bolder.
It’s after-hours, and the office is mostly deserted. You’d told yourself it’d be fine to walk back to your desk dressed like this—barely anyone’s around to notice. Yoongi left minutes ago, or at least you think he did. He never really stays after 5:30 p.m. except that one night he returned “for his ear buds” and even then he actually went home and just came back to get drunk with you, apparently.
As you step into the hallway, your dunks squeak faintly on the floor, echoing in the quiet. You glance around, feeling pretty damn good as you make your way back to your desk to grab your stuff before heading to Chae’s Pilates class.
But as soon as you open the door to your office, you freeze.
Yoongi is still there.
Standing by his desk, packing up, his head snaps up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes lock onto you, and for a second—just a second—they widen, raking over you in a way that’s anything but office-appropriate. His gaze drifts from your legs, up to your waist, lingering at the curve of your hips, then up to your chest, where the sports bra does more work than it has any right to.
You see the exact moment he tries to recover. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and he quickly looks away, busying himself with stuffing papers into his bag like they’ve suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.
Oh. Oh.
The corner of your mouth twitches. It’s almost funny, really—after all the teasing and the subtle suggestions, Yoongi finally looks like he’s the one caught off guard. Finally. You saunter further into the office, a booty-tooch here and there, pretending like nothing’s out of the ordinary, but inside, you’re fully aware of the power shift that just happened.
“Didn’t think you were still here,” you say casually, grabbing your water bottle from your desk. You make a show of bending just slightly, and when you look up, you don’t miss the way Yoongi’s stare flickers toward your cleavage before he quickly averts his gaze. His ears are a little red. Gotcha.
“I thought you’d left already.” He clears his throat. “You uh you got a class?”
“Mhmm
” You hum sweetly, tossing the bottle into your bag. “Pilates. My best friend convinced me to go. Free trial and all.”
Yoongi nods slowly, still not quite making full eye contact, like he’s trying really hard not to look directly at you again. The sadistic part of you wants to make it worse, just for shits—after all, didn’t you deserve a little revenge after the way he had you silently losing your mind over his hands the other day?
“So
 what do you think?” You tilt your head, as if the answer to that question isn’t already written in big, bold letters all over his face.
Yoongi finally looks at you then, before darting back to his bag, his fingers a little too purposeful as they zip the bag shut. “About Pilates?”
“No,” you say, smirking. “About the outfit.”
It takes him a second to process that, and when he does, you swear you see his jaw tighten. He presses his lips together, trying to keep his cool.
“It’s
 nice,” he says, the understatement of the year, and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to say more. 
“Huh.” You cross your arms, weight shifting to one hip, the motion drawing his eyes back to you at the sliver of skin that just revealed itself. “Just nice?”
Yoongi exhales, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time in the months you’ve known him, he looks rattled. Not by much, but enough to notice. You wait, feeling a surge of satisfaction, enjoying this just a tad too much.
He catches your gaze again, this time holding it for longer. His tongue drags across his bottom lip, the gesture slow, and finally, finally, he leans back against the desk, arms crossing as he gives you an appraising look. The faintest smirk pulls at his mouth, but it’s restrained, like he’s weighing his next words carefully. You are still in office premises after all, not in some club in Garosu-gil.
“You’re trouble,” he says softly, and the word hangs in the air between you. The same word you’ve used for him more than once—now, turned on you. “You know that, right?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a grin. It feels like a straight-up W, having him flustered, even for a moment. “Yeah?”
He lets out a tiny chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah.” His eyes drop to your legs again, another once-over. When they return to yours, they’re darker, more intent. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before replying, “Definitely trouble.”
You pretend to mull it over, playing with the front zipper of your sports bra. “I mean, you’re the one staring,” you tease, fully aware of what you’re doing now.
Yoongi’s grin returns, a little sharper this time. “And you’re the one who walked in here looking like that.” His voice rasps just slightly on the last words, and it’s enough to send tingles down your spine.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you jest, this time repeating one of his lines from the other night. He shakes his head again at you, clearly remembering it, too.
“Well,” you say, voice deliberately airy, “I should get going. Don’t want to be late for class.”
Yoongi nods, and his eyes follow you as you move toward the door. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little smug in the way he’s gawking at you. Man like him is used to being surrounded by gorgeous women, being in an industry that demands being perfect, and yet he seemed enamored by a perfectly imperfect you. How you like that?
Wow he’s still watching. Well if he wants this as spank bank material tonight, then by all means, you consent for him to stare. 
“Have fun at Pilates,” he says, his tone a little too even.
You pause at the door, glancing over your shoulder with a triumphant grin. “See you later, Yoongi.”
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You have to admit, work has been pretty inspiring since you and Yoongi started hinting at your attraction to each other. Coffee breaks now feel like mini dates. Over steaming cups of latte (americano for him) that now tastes a little less shitty, your knuckles brush sometimes—just a quick touch, but neither of you pulls away. And even though it’s brief, it’s starting to mean everything. 
It’s becoming more obvious: you’re both opening up, letting each other in, swapping stories that are equal parts random and revealing. He tells you about the black cat he ‘borrows’ from a friend when he feels lonely. You tell him about your complicated relationship with your dad, how it’s still a work in progress. Each conversation feels like another layer peeled back, another step toward something deeper. Hopefully.
But then, of course, your inner saboteur decides to join the party. You start wondering what this really is for him. A way to pass the time, maybe, cause he’s just bored in the house. You know the kind of life Yoongi’s used to, but since he’s forced to step away, and here you are... just there, conveniently available. A little distraction. Maybe that’s all this is. You think about how easily he could pick you up like a little plaything and tickle you whenever he likes. Cos, damn, you know he knows that you are very much tickled.
He hasn’t asked for your number. And honestly? You don’t think you have the guts to ask for his. But it’s not even just about guts–you think you’re a plenty empowered woman. There’s the NDA—a whole ass contract hanging over your head, making sure you won’t cross. You’re stuck, confined to these small, controlled moments within the four walls of work.
And that’s what gnaws at you the most: you don’t know if this could ever become something real outside of this space. Your lives, your worlds—they’re just too different. 
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Your Saturday looks a little different today. Tonight, you find yourself in Chae’s place of work. You’re wearing a pretty little dress, paired with cute heels that make you feel amazing, even if they pinch a little. Your hair is softly curled at the ends, one delicate pin securing it behind your ear on one side, leaving the rest to fall naturally. It’s simple but enough to make you feel put together, like you belong here, even if this whole scene is a bit fancier than your usual.
The soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses fill the air as you settle in at the bar, a glass of sparkling wine in hand. The lighting is low, giving the restaurant an intimate, almost cozy feel despite its sleek, upscale design. Dark wood tables, candles flickering on every surface, and the kind of velvet seating that makes you want to sink right in. It’s posh, but not stuffy—like the kind of place where you can have a real conversation without having to shout.
You take a slow sip of your drink, eyes drifting around the room. The bar is polished marble, gleaming under the soft pendant lights that hang overhead, casting a gentle glow on everything. The vibe is understated but undeniably chic, with just enough buzz in the air to remind you that this is a special night. 
You imagine Chae in the kitchen, totally in her element, probably yelling at someone to get the garnish right while she’s knee-deep in prepping plates. Too busy to talk, but that’s fine. You didn’t mind. You’re here for the food, the drinks, and to support her.
A guy, about your age, slides onto the barstool next to you. “Hey. You here for the friends and family thing, too?” he asks casually, although it’s obvious since it is a private event after all. You know he’s just trying to make conversation.
You smile politely, nodding. “Yeah, my best friend works here. You?”
“Cousin of one of the line chefs,” he replies. “No idea who most of these people are, but free food, right?”
You chuckle. He seems harmless enough—just someone to pass the time with while you wait for the meal to start. The conversation flows easily, touching on casual topics. Nothing too deep, but enough to make you feel at ease in the unfamiliar crowd.
Then, out of nowhere, a ripple passes through the room. You notice heads turning, subtle whispers growing louder as two men were ushered to a VIP section at the far end of the restaurant. You exchange a glance with the guy–Jungwon, curiosity piqued.
“Who’s that?” Jungwon asks, craning his neck slightly. “Some kind of celebrity?”
You squint in their direction, but couldn’t quite make them out. “No idea, but they must be, with that kind of posse.”
Just then, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, seeing a message come through.
Chae: fuck ur bf and my bf are here!!! Omgggg 
Your eyebrows shot up. You quickly type back:
You: Wtf are you talking abtt?!
But before you can get a response, you are ushered into the main dining area with the rest of the guests. The low lighting and beautifully set tables were designed for an intimate evening, and you found yourself seated at a small two-person table with Jungwon due to limited seating.
As you settle in, your vision drift towards the VIP section again, this time landing directly on someone you didn’t expect to see. Min Yoongi was sitting there with none other than Jeon Jungkook.
Your breath catches in your throat. Oh. Well, that explains the murmurs. The sudden shift in atmosphere. And Chae’s message.
You weren’t expecting this—him. Not here. Not tonight.
You tell yourself to look away, play it cool, but your eyes keep darting back, betraying you. Yoongi hasn’t seen you yet—thank God—but it’s only a matter of time. 
You’re hit with a wave of something—excitement? Nerves? Probably both. This was supposed to be a low-key night, a chance to support Chae and enjoy some free food and drinks. Instead, it feels like the stakes just shot up, like you’re tightroping between wanting to be invisible and being seen.
You take a steadying breath, flicking back to him one last time. He’s still talking with Jungkook, leaning back in his seat, completely unaware of the fact that your world just tilted slightly off its axis. 
Suddenly, Yoongi’s head turns, almost like he can feel your frantic energy. He sweeps the room, pausing when they find you. And for a split second, there’s something there—recognition, a softness in his expression, the kind of look that makes your heart stutter. His lips lift at the corners, like he’s about to smile, and for that brief moment, you let yourself believe in it.
But then, just as quickly, his gaze shifts. His expression cools, like a door closing in slow motion. The familiarity drains, replaced by something distant. Detached. He nods at you—polite, formal, like he’s acknowledging a colleague at a meeting. Nothing more. Before looking away.
Wow. That’s cold.
That tiny, hopeful flicker you’d felt just a moment ago? Gone. You weren’t expecting some grand gesture, but this? This feels like... nothing. Just a nod. Just formality. 
You shift in your seat, fingers tightening around the stem of your wine glass, feeling like shit.
Of course. Of course it’s like this. Why wouldn’t it be? Here you are, your first taste of seeing him outside your office bubble and your inner saboteur was right.
It’s disappointing, but not surprising. This was always confined to the office, wasn’t it? That’s where it was convenient. But out in the world, with people around and the difference of your class apparent? Just look–he’s in the VIP section and you’re
 not. It’s different. He’s different. And maybe you are too, suddenly unsure of where you stand with him.
Was he annoyed? Uncomfortable that you’re here? You replay the moment in your head, trying to decipher the brief look on his face before it shifted. You’ve always had a tendency to overthink things, but still... that coolness in his gaze lingers in your mind, and you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed.
You glance away, pretending to focus on the glass in your hand, but the truth is, you don’t know how to feel. You don’t want to feel disappointed, but you do. And it’s hitting you harder than it should, because maybe, deep down, you wanted more.
But this is your first glimpse of what happens in the real world. And right now, it feels like you’re just two strangers in a crowded room.
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The first course arrives, pulling you out of your thoughts, and you try to refocus, letting the taste of the food ground you for a while. You chat lightly with Jungwon, making small talk about the meal, the restaurant, anything that keeps your mind occupied. Every now and then, though, your thoughts drift back to Yoongi, to that cool, distant nod, and the wound in your heart expands. You try to shake it off, tell yourself it’s nothing, but fuck—it stings.
Your phone buzzes again with a message from Chae. You excuse yourself from Jungwon and pull your phone out.
Chae: If u don’t intro me to Min Yoongi, friendship over!!!!!!! Also jk but ik you havent met him yet. Omg im guna freakkk
You sigh. Of course. Chae doesn’t know. She hasn’t seen the awkward distance that’s already wedged itself between you and Yoongi tonight. And you definitely don’t want to be the one to burst her bubble. This is her night—a huge one for her culinary career. The last thing you want to do is drag your personal worries into it.
You type up a simple reply.
You: On it. Stand by. And pls act normal
Fuckkk how are you going to do this? You excuse yourself to the powder room. Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you adjust your lipstick and clean up the edges with the pad of your ring finger.
Yoongi’s a good person, you remind yourself, your mind running through every little moment you’ve shared with him at the office. He won’t embarrass you in public. That’s not who he is. But still, there’s that nagging doubt in the back of your mind—the one that’s been whispering ever since you saw his face earlier, the way his warmth slipped into something more distant.
And if he does embarrass you? Well... maybe that’s your answer. Maybe tonight is the night you get the clarity you’ve been secretly waiting for. 
You come back to Jungwon wiping his mouth with the table napkin, chewing the last bits of his mains. Before you can even politely excuse yourself, he gulps his drink in one go, “Hey, I think I'm actually gonna bounce.”
So that’s that. You text Chae and make your way toward Yoongi’s table, heartbeat picking up speed.
Chae: I’m goin in. Get your ass ready. 
As you approach, Beefy—the bodyguard you recognize from past run-ins inside the office—gives you a friendly nod and lets you through without hesitation. You give him a grateful smile before turning your attention to Yoongi and Jungkook. Jungkook is mid-conversation, laughing at something Yoongi has said, but as soon as you appear, their heads turn toward you.
You give a small wave and a smile. “Hey.”
Yoongi’s eyes meet yours for a split second, and he gives you a smile that reminds you of that day you first met. Forced. Awkward. Tight-lipped.
Fuck. You’re starting to feel like such an idiot. Maybe this was a mistake—maybe he really doesn’t want to associate with you outside of work. You should’ve read the room. 
But before your thoughts can spiral any further, Jungkook thankfully steps in. “I’m Jungkook, and you are?”
You give him your name, a small, polite bow. You’re about to explain who you are, but before you can, Jungkook’s face light up with recognition.
“Ohhh, wait,” he says pointing a finger at you, a grin spreading across his face, “You’re Yoongi-hyung’s boss.”
You freeze. Boss? His grin widens, and suddenly, there’s a teasing glint in his eyes as he flicks his gaze between you and Yoongi like he’s just connected some dots.
Yoongi shoots him a look, something caught between exasperation and warning. It’s like you can hear the silent “Don’t.” Jungkook ignores it, his smile only growing, and so is your confusion.
“That would be me,” you say, trying to hold onto your composure, giving Jungkook a nod while feeling completely out of the loop.
“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me she was going to be here?” Jungkook’s tone is light, but there’s an unspoken challenge beneath it, like he’s teasing Yoongi in a way that only someone who knows him well could. The silent back-and-forth between them is hard to miss, and it leaves you feeling both confused and embarrassed. There’s clearly something you’re not getting.
Yoongi just shrugs, his voice more detached than you’d like. “I had no idea.”
You furrow your brows, trying to make sense of what’s happening. Jungkook gives Yoongi a curious look, as if they’re having an entire conversation through telepathy. You, meanwhile, are just standing there, completely out of place and unsure whether you should laugh or back away slowly.
And Yoongi hasn’t even addressed you directly in the midst of all this. God, you’re so embarrassed.
At this point, you figure it’s time to bail. You gave it a shot, and it feels like Yoongi doesn’t even want you here. Sorry, Chae. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you Jungkook, but I should just—” You jerk your thumb over your shoulder, already planning your exit.
“No, no!” Jungkook interrupts quickly, grinning like he’s enjoying this way too much. “If you’re here, you should definitely join us,” he says, gesturing to the empty spot next to Yoongi. “There’s more than enough room.”
You hesitate, but before you can even respond, Yoongi speaks up, his tone calm but there’s something else beneath it—something strained. “She’s with someone already.”
You blink. Someone?
Ah. Now it makes sense.
You glance at Yoongi, the pieces falling into place. He thinks you’re here with someone, like on a date. Is it really why he’s been acting distant? Hmm. It’s almost funny now, if it wasn’t so painfully awkward.
You clear your throat. “Actually, I just met Jungwon here. I came alone.” You explain it to Jungkook, but really, the person who needs to hear it is Yoongi. “And he already left, so I’d be down to join if it’s cool with you
.” 
Jungkook’s grin is immediate, and he pats the seat next to Yoongi like it’s been waiting for you all along. “Of course! Sit with us.”
You hesitate for a second longer, glancing at Yoongi to see how he’s reacting. His expression shifts—softens—and before you know it, he’s pulling the chair out for you, at the same time Jungkook gets a call.
“Be right back,” Jungkook says and disappears into the hall towards the back of the restaurant.
You settle into the chair beside Yoongi, feeling this strange tension. You glance at him, but Yoongi avoids you, eyes fixed on the table.
But then, just barely, you notice it—the faintest tug at the corner of his lips. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He’s smiling, the kind of smile that betrays him. The kind that says, Yeah, you caught me. And it confirms what you guessed was happening: he was actually kinda jealous. Which is ridiculous, because why would he feel that?!
He breathes out a soft fuck, before he runs a hand across his scalp. It’s almost funny now and you can’t help but shake your head at him, a small pout playing on your lips. You hear a “sorry” in the deepest register you’ve heard for his voice.
Neither of you says a word after that, but the moment speaks for itself. There’s a quiet agreement to let it go. 
“So
” you start.
Yoongi clears his throat. “Can I get you something to drink?”
You blink, a little surprised, but grateful for the gesture. “Just a glass of white, please.”
He nods, finally looking at you for a second before signaling the waiter. His voice is calm, easy, as he orders for you. He orders a whiskey neat.
As the waiter walks away, Yoongi leans back, glancing at you briefly before looking away again. He doesn’t say much, but the small smile that lingers on his lips tells you enough. He knows he got caught acting a fool. And he’s not quite sure how to deal with it.
And honestly, you don’t know what to feel about it, either. It’s
 madness, really.
When your drink arrives, the clouds seem to part. You extend your flute towards him, and he clinks it with his lowball and you both take a sip, peering at each other through your own glasses.
Jungkook sits back down at the table, and the conversation picks up almost immediately. Jungkook leans forward, flashing a bright smile. “So, what’s it like working with him?” He jerks his head in Yoongi’s direction, boba-like orbs twinkling mischievously.
Yoongi sighs, leaning back in his chair, his usual calm demeanor settling in. “Stop,” he mutters under his breath, already sensing where this is going.
You laugh softly. “He’s not so bad. Actually, he’s really helpful.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “Helpful? Yoongi-hyung? Are we talking about the same guy?” He’s clearly enjoying himself, teasing while keeping the mood light.
Yoongi shoots him a look, shaking his head. “I’m right here.”
But Jungkook grins, ignoring Yoongi’s protest. “Nah, you sure he isn’t sleeping on the job?”
You chuckle, nodding. “Well, he does use his lunches for sleeping more than eating.”
Yoongi groans. “Great. Love this conversation.”
“I knew it,” Jungkook laughs, before drinking the rest of his drink like a shot.
You can’t help but snicker, but there’s something in you that feels a little protective of Yoongi. “To be fair, he is helpful. You should see him in the office. Always stepping in when I need something fixed.”
Yoongi’s lips twitch, fighting back a small smile. “See? Helpful.”
Jungkook just raises an eyebrow at him. “Wow, look at you, hyung. Gunning for Employee of the Month.”
“It’s literally just him in my department. He already wins by default.” you bump Yoongi with your shoulders to coax a tiny smile from him, and you’re successful.
Conversations flow naturally after that, going towards the meal you just had (which Chae would be happy to know got rave reviews) onto other things.
“So, where are you from?” Jungkook asks.
“Busan,” you say with a grin, catching the flicker of excitement in his eyes.
“No way!” Jungkook says, clapping his hands together. “I’m from Busan, too!” He leans in, his enthusiasm infectious. “Do you know that bungeoppang stall at Gukje Market?”
You blink in surprise. “The one with the darling ahjumma with the big hair and red lipstick? I used to go there after school.”
“Oh shit, really?” Jungkook lets out a laugh. “I still dream about that mmm...”
“The ahjumma?” Yoongi asks, straight-faced and full of shit.
Jungkook’s expression sours and you giggle.
“You’re just jealous you’re missing out, hyung,” Jungkook says, turning to Yoongi with a teasing grin. “Busan people know what’s up.”
Yoongi doesn't say anything, just looks at both of you with amusement as you share a high five.
Before Jungkook can continue, Chae finally approaches the table, in her crisp chef’s uniform and a bright smile on her face. 
You introduce her quickly, and she immediately fits in, shaking hands with both of them. You admire the composure, really, considering she is meeting her favorite people.
But what she says next surprises you, when she stops being “loyal ARMY” and starts being “protective best friend.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Chae says to Yoongi, her tone light, but knowing.
Yoongi looks momentarily caught off guard, but before he can say anything, Jungkook jumps in, grinning wide. “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve heard a lot about her too,” he says, nodding toward you.
Huh?!
You feel your face heat up, and Yoongi glances at you, clearly not expecting the conversation to turn on him like that. “Wonder why you two talk about each other so much,” Jungkook muses, tapping his chin dramatically.
You and Yoongi exchange a look, both of you feeling the awkwardness creep in. You try to laugh it off, but it’s clear both of you are embarrassed.
Chae, despite starting this whole ripple, decides to shift gears to give you a reprieve, “Anyway, I hear you’re part-timing in the military kitchen, Jungkook. I’ve been dying to know what you think of our food, as a fellow professional.”
Jungkook beams, clearly thrilled to be praised for his culinary pursuits. “Oh, it’s fuckin’ phenomenal. Though—that,” he points at one of the dishes on the table, “that’s way better than anything I’ve had lately.”
Chae’s face lights up. “Ah, that makes me so happy. That’s one of my original recipes. What did you like about it?”
As the two of them dive into an enthusiastic conversation about food, you feel a shift under the table. At first, you think it’s nothing—a stray napkin, maybe. But then it happens again, more deliberate this time. You glance down, and—oh shit, that’s Yoongi’s hand.
Your breath catches for a second, your heart doing a little flip. You glance at Yoongi, but he’s still keeping his attention on the conversation between Chae and Jungkook. Still, there’s something there—something softer—that he doesn’t quite hide.
He’s slow, careful, like he’s testing whether you’ll pull away. You freeze for a second, your pulse kicking up. His fingers brush yours lightly before he gently takes your hand in his, slipping it under the cloth of the table like it’s a secret just between the two of you.
Your heart soars. He’s talking to Chae, pretending everything is normal, but this? This is definitely not nothing. You glance at him, but he’s looking ahead, calm and composed as always, matching the tenderness in the way his thumb strokes over your knuckles.
You squeeze his hand back. It feels like the confirmation you’ve both been waiting for, even though neither of you says anything. 
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As the night winds down, the crowd starts thinning out. You wait near the entrance for Chae to finish up, scrolling absently on your phone. You’d figured Yoongi left through the back at some point after he and Jungkook were requested to tour the kitchens. But then you glance up and there he is walking towards you.
He stands close, gaze steady on you, like he’s been waiting for this moment. “I’ll drive you home,” he says, his voice low, like it’s not even a question.
You’re caught a little off guard. “You don’t have to—Chae and I were just—”
“I’ll drive you home,” he repeats, softer this time but just as firm. There’s something in the way he says it that makes it hard to argue. It’s not just the offer—it’s the way he’s looking at you, like he’s already decided.
And because God knows you’re so weak for this man, it’s almost pathetic how you just nod wordlessly.
Chae appears, barely catching the tail end of the conversation. Her eyes dart between you and Yoongi, and then—because of course she can’t resist—her jaw drops dramatically. 
She pulls her phone out, putting on the most ridiculous performance. “Yeah? I’ll come over!” She pretends to talk to someone, then covers the phone mic, turning to you. “I won’t be home. Don’t wait up. You have the whole apartment to yourself, all night.”
You shoot her a look, and she gives you a wink before making herself scarce. You groan inwardly. Way to be subtle, Chae. Really nailed it.
Yoongi chuckles under his breath, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He motions to the car waiting outside. “Come on,” he says, and just like that, you’re following him out into the cool night air.
The car pulls up, sleek and black, with a driver already waiting inside. Yoongi opens the door for you, and you slide in, nerves buzzing in your chest. He slips in beside you, the driver closing the door for him.
The city lights blur past as the car moves through the streets, and for a moment, you’re both quiet, just watching the world pass by. But then, you feel it—his hand, creeping over the seat like it’s found a familiar place, slowly sliding over yours.
Your breath hitches as his fingers intertwined with yours again, his touch warm and steady. There’s no hesitation this time. His grip is a little firmer, more certain.
“Come closer,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, but the way he says it sends a shiver through you.
You hesitate, more out of nerves than anything. “It’s ok,” you mutter, half-playful, half-nervous. “I’m fine here.”
Yoongi lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and amused. He doesn’t push it, but his thumb strokes over your hand again, like he’s perfectly content with the small bit of contact for now. Still, you feel the tension simmering between you—the quiet pull you’ve been dancing around for weeks, maybe months.
The rest of the drive passes in a blur, your thoughts spinning. When the car pulls up in front of your apartment, you take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You know what comes next. You’re psyching yourself up to make the move, but Yoongi’s voice echoes in the stillness inside the car.
“Good night,” he says, watching you with that look that makes your heart race. “You look really pretty tonight.”
You feel the blush creeping up your neck, “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He nods, a boyish grin on his face. 
And before you can stop yourself, the words spill out. “Yoongi, do you... want to come up for ramen?”
The second it leaves your mouth, you cringe inwardly. Ramen? Really? But it’s out there now, and you can’t take it back.
Yoongi’s tongue skims the seam of his lips before it curves into a knowing smile. “Ramen, huh?”
You clear your throat, trying to salvage whatever dignity you have left. “Yeah... you know. If you’re hungry.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Yoongi unbuckles his seatbelt, his eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Ramen sounds good.”
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A/N: So....... ramen, eh???? Please lmk what you thought about this chapter <3 Any favorite parts? Personally, it was Yoongi drooling over MC's gym fit. That was hella fun to write.
Thanks again for reading this you lovely human!
Important poll right here Chapter Four >
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Taglist: @glossdebut @kam9404 @mar-lo-pap @nnybtitts08 @granataepfelchen
@perfectiondazesworld @wobblewobble822 @yoongznme @caressesurloceanlove @rinkud
@kayleefriedchicken @jajabro @tinytan-gerine @xxbibin1208 @forevercarpediem227
@yoongicatagenda @someshinesomedont @marnz1990 @iheartshopping @confidentjus
@queenbloody @whydoeyecare @sadroses98 @curlyquennn
@sexytholland @kiki-zb @hiddlestandom
Hope I didn't miss anybody, but if I did please shout at me in the comments. 💕
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christhopersturniolo · 9 months ago
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à­š HOCKEY PROBLEMS à­§
summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.
notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!
warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.
à­šà­§
My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.
Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.
And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.
Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.
Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.
Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.
Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.
After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)
Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.
The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.
The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.
On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.
Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.
FLASHBACK
I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.
As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.
I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.
I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.
He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.
“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.
I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.
Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.
"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."
“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.
As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.
I never went back to those lockers again.
END OF THE FLASHBACK
I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.
The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.
The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.
As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.
Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.
“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.
The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.
Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone
Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.
“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.
My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"
The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.
I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.
Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,
Cameron.
"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.
My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."
Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way
I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.
Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.
"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.
"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.
He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.
Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”
The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”
“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”
Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.
Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”
He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.
Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing
“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.
"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”
“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.
“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”
Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”
“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.
Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.
I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.
As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.
Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.
“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.
I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”
Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.
He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."
Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.
I kiss his head “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He answers quietly.
à­šà­§
hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.
also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 3 months ago
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Hello, hope you are having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request a BAU Team/maybe a little Spencer x Male x assassin
Who now works for the BAU, they are really good at stealth and undercover as if it's breathing air, they want a semblance of normalcy using the skills they were taught for good, but they can't hide, they can't run forever their past will haunt them come for them when they least expect it. (Note: reader has scars/ reader has a crush on Spencer but is afraid of how he would react if Spencer knew the real them) Prompt: to hell and back
This request is over a year old surely, im so sorry!
This a rare one folks, it's over 1k words lol. I hope you like it! I really enjoyed writing it!
Warnings: blood, injuries, scars, stabbing, reader stabs someone, use of the word paranoid/paranoia, a few curse words, reader doesn't even get their dinner :(
They only ever saw you with long sleeves. They knew a rough outline of your previous life, no details. You signed a contract to keep the details of your previous life quiet. Only Strauss knew. You had worked as an assassin for the government for five long years, training rigorously before that for two. When leaving that life, you were given a new identity, (Y/N) (L/N). 
It had taken it’s toll, sometimes your knees creaked, your wrist seized up, sometimes old wounds hurt. But ultimately, when needed, you moved silently. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to hide forever, that eventually your past would catch up to you. And so, you were hesitant to try to get close with your team. You liked them (perhaps liked one member a little too much), and you knew they liked you. But you knew first hand that traitors could come from within.
You weren’t sure when, exactly, you developed a ‘crush’ (which was a word you refused to admit outloud) on Spencer. But soon enough the sight of him was enough for butterflies to swarm your stomach and your breath to hitch. You had never regretted your previous decision to take your original line of work, until those butterflies appeared. You knew it would never happen. That you and him could never be a thing. Because he was pure, and you were
 tainted. You had done unimaginable things that would make any sane person run in the opposite direction. 
Not only would he run for hills if he found out what you had done, but then there were the scars. You had been injured more than once during your line of duty. They weren’t exactly something you were fond of. So, you wore long sleeves, trousers. Never short sleeves, never shorts. Not even outside of work when you were out and about. The only time you ever did was when you were at home.
It is possible to say that, over the years at the BAU, the paranoia lessened. You were no longer convinced that every unfamiliar agent was someone from your past looking for revenge. That was your biggest mistake. 
You had seen a new face around the bullpen, you had been with the BAU three years now, without incident. And you knew that new recruits had been hired recently. So, you thought nothing of it.
A few weeks went by without incident, just proving that everything was fine. You were just being paranoid. 
Until one night, you realised it wasn’t paranoia. You were walking back from the chinese takeout around the corner from your apartment when you were pulled back and down an alleyway. He managed to stab you before you got hold of the knife, twisting his grip and stabbing him. You glared at him, twisting the knife before removing it. You repeated the motion once more before throwing the knife into the dumpster just to your right and shoving the ‘agent’ to the ground. 
Food forgotten, you took a breath. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, it was clear they knew where you lived, they had been following you for some time. You ground your teeth, increasing the pressure you placed on your stab wound. Spencer. He lived close by. And with the thought, you set off. 
It took you about ten minutes of staggering in the rain and scared looks for strangers before you reached his block. You stumbled up the stairs, pausing when you reached Spencer’s door and knocked loudly. 
Please be in, please be in. 
The door swung open.
“What the fuck?” Spencer asked, staring at you wide eyed.
You clutched your hand against your stomach tighter, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” And with that, collapsed. 
You came to a few minutes later, now sprawled out on Spencer’s couch. “You need to go to the hospital.” Spencer said, pressing a handful of gauze against your wound. 
You shake your head, forcing yourself to sit up against your elbows. “No.” You choked out, wincing again. 
“(Y/N), you’ve been stabbed-”
“I’m fine.” You muttered, “No hospitals.” 
He watched you for a few seconds. “I’m calling Hotch.” He said, dialling before you could argue. 
You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up properly. “Spence-” You’re not quite sure when you started calling him Spence. It just came naturally after a while.
The entirety of the team was there within ten minutes. When Spencer opened the door, they immediately sensed something was wrong. 
“(Y/N)’s been stabbed.” He rushes the words out and immediately heads back to the couch. Only to find you forcing yourself upright.
You needed to leave. They were going to find out, everything was going to be revealed. Not only would that break the contract you signed for Strauss, but it would put them in danger. It would put Spencer in danger. 
“You need to lay back down.” Hotch said as Spencer helped (forced) you back down.
“I’m fine.” You grumbled. 
“We need to cut the shirt away, we need to make sure there’s no other injuries and it’s soaked through.” Rossi chimed, handing a pair of scissors to Spencer. 
“No, Spencer-”
Morgan gently pushed you back down. “Will you just let us help you?” 
You sighed, feeling the cold air bite at your skin as your shirt was cut away. The team collectively gasped at your scars, the red of your blood only emphasising the white of the scars that covered your body. 
You distantly heard Prentiss on the phone with 911. This wasn’t exactly going to plan. You turned to look at Hotch, “You need to tell Strauss.” You said firmly. “Strauss needs to know- ow.” You gave a soft hiss as Morgan took over holding the gauze to the wound.
“I need- I need a second.” Spencer mumbled, standing up and making his way to the bathroom. Presumably to wash his hands. At least, that’s what you would do. Ah shit, there was going to be blood everywhere.
“Did I get blood on the couch?” You asked, craning your neck and attempting to twist your body to check.
“Can you just sit still?” Morgan huffed. 
JJ watches Spencer leave with a concerned gaze before following him into the bathroom. “Spence, you need to breathe. He’s going to be okay.” JJ said softly, giving him a small smile. Spencer nodded, taking a deep breath. 
“You’re right.” Spencer said, raking a hand over his face. “At the very least he’s stubborn.”
“Exactly.” She said, “He’s going to be okay.”
“He’s covered in scars, JJ.” Spencer whispered quietly. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” She said, “Let’s worry about that later, okay? Let’s focus on helping him now. Everything else can wait.”
“I like him.”
“I know Spence.”
“I really like him.”
"I know you do." JJ smiled, squeezing his arm slightly. "Come on, let's go check on him - make sure Morgan's not trying to kill him."
Spencer gave a quiet laugh, following JJ back to the lounge.
"Will you just sit still?" Morgan huffed.
"You're so bossy." You muttered under your breath, blinking slowly.
"You're literally bleeding, shut up and accept the help." Morgan resorted. You huffed in response, but stopped trying to get up, once again.
"Paramedics are one minute out." Prentiss updated after thanking the dispatcher.
You blinked, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, accompanied by the familiar blood-loss tiredness. You shifted your eyes, focusing on Spencer as the world around you blurred before going dark.
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babygorewhore · 3 months ago
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‱Headcannons for Cooper Adams‱
Requested by anon!
These are my opinions and just from what I observed from the movie! I’ve seen it twice. So it’s okay if you disagree! But it’s just my opinion BE NICE!!!!!!!
These are both SFW and NSFW but the top half is not smut.
Warnings! Mentions of oral! Both receiving! Choking! Talks of masturbation! unprotected sex, bondage, Dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink briefly talked about but not in detail. Very very minimal mention of spitting. These aren’t really in order. Talks of his mother. Brief talk about if there was an age gap (most likely would be lol) Nothing graphic tbh. These are very generalized. I mean he’s a killer but I didn’t really dive into that. Mwah!
-Cooper would initially have reservations about dating someone younger than him. He’s middle aged and was married for a while (until she’s dead RIP)
-You immediately had a crush on him and he knew that. He’s a smart man. He knows how human beings work. He knows how to read people and their body language.
-But finally after weeks of tension, Cooper finally asks you to go out with him.
-I feel like Cooper is creative with dates. He would like the traditions, going to dinner but I also feel like because he’s so observant he would know exactly where to go.
-carnival, museum, park, cemetery, concert, Cooper would go wherever you want.
-Cooper would stalk you. No questions. He’d find all your social media, learn everything about you, but he wouldn’t reveal it. He’s an expert in pretending to be calm.
-He’s not completely without conscious or a heart. He does love his children. He’s capable of it. Cooper would frequently check on his kids while he’s with you.
-Cooper has OCD (Same) and I feel like a lot of that has to do with his mother. It was a way of coping with severe anxiety and intrusive thoughts. He does compulsions to soothe himself. He often fidgets.
-Speaking of his mother. Cooper had a complicated relationship with his mother. Obviously we weren’t told that much in the film but my guess would be that she neglected him. She saw signs in him that weren’t normal but instead of helping him, she either pulled away or punished him.
-Cooper wanted to please his mother. He wanted her approval so this carried into his adult years. He tends to avoid conflict when he can, as we saw with the other mom and why his family seemed so shocked by his outburst. Normally, Cooper shoves down his anger in front of people.
-But when he finally snaps, well, we all heard the horror of his crimes committed. Cooper has so much rage inside of him and he only allows it to come out on “special.” Occasions.
-Cooper probably loves his job as a fireman. I feel like he trains younger men who work there. I also hardcore believe he has saved many lives but he has that entitlement that he can also take it away when he wants. But when we saw him help that young girl, he automatically knew what medical care to give her. Again, he probably has kept people alive on the way to the ambulance.
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-Okay Cooper is a fucking freak. Let’s not lie.
-I don’t think there’s much he isn’t into tbh. But I think one of the biggest kinks he has is utter dominance or corruption.
-Cooper loves to play the role of an average, easy going guy and silly guy but once that bedroom door closes? He has you bent over, arm around your throat and ass in the air.
-since he’s so big, he can easily overpower you and he enjoys this. Cooper loves to wrap a hand around your neck, controlling your breath as he thrusts into you.
-I feel like cooper, which would normally go against his need for cleanliness, he would love spitting. I’m not gonna go into a ton of detail but I feel like he would love to spit on your cunt, or drool into your mouth after eating you out.
-Speaking of oral
Cooper wouldn’t usually ask or expect it, I feel like one of the fastest ways to make him whimper is to suck his cock. His entire career is about other people so for someone to sink to their knees, wrap their lips around his dick and take their time to lick and suck
it would drive him crazy.
-While you give him head, Cooper tends to bob your head up and down or cup your jaw so he can feel it. He also goes inside if you slap his cock on your tongue before you take it.
-Cooper loves eating pussy. I’m talking, burying his entire face, he can’t hardly breathe but why does he need air? He pins your thighs down, spreading you as wide as possible as he fucking devours you. He humps the bed, moans and grunts from your sounds. Honestly, he eats you out for his pleasure too. Coming home, and just sinking his tongue in your pussy? He loves it.
-Cooper loves to tie you up. We all know this. He really appreciates it :) He ties your wrists in front of you. I don’t feel like he’d love it for himself though. Bonus points if he ties you up and then eats you out.
-Okay. Cooper loves to get marked up. He has a very very high tolerance for pain. He took being TAZED multiple times and was only down for a few minutes. Scratch his back, slap him, hell even bite him and leave marks. He fucking loves it. If you drag your nails down his bare back
he looks like a fucking animal.
-But Cooper also likes to be submissive. Hear me out. I don’t think I would classify him as a complete switch. But a Dom/switch leaning. Like 70 percent of the time he likes to have control, as he said. “I’m in control.” However, if you call him a good boy, play with his hair, praise him and give him kisses? He’s puddle in your hands. If you call him a sweet puppy though
he would let you walk him like a goddamn dog.
-Submissive cooper has a mommy kink in my opinion. He loves to worship your chest, play with your nipples. He wants your approval. He wants to know you’re proud of him.
-Cooper I feel like wouldn’t regularly
sext? I think if he was gone a while he would love an occasional sexy picture but I don’t think he wants to tell you what he wants to do. He wants to physically show you. But sometimes on a phone call, his breathy and deep voice saying “can’t wait to see you when I get home.” You know what he means.
-Cooper isn’t shy about PDA but I don’t think he’s over the top. I feel like he has an arm around you, or hand on your waist/hip or hold your hand. Kiss on the head. But I don’t think he’d be overboard. He’s extremely possessive though. Don’t let anyone else look at you

-Cooper likes to have alone time. But for some reason I don’t feel like he jerks off a lot? I mean anything he’d want I’d be ass in the air, but you know what I mean? I don’t feel like he THINKS about it? Very rarely, he will jerk himself off in his fist. Thinking about you.
-Cooper is the master of dirty talk. He has the perfect balance of praise and degrading. “Fucking needy little slut huh? Mmmm, such an obedient little princess for me.”
-Cooper has more
old time nicknames for you. Sweetheart, honey, sugar, babydoll. Sometimes princess or baby girl. But primarily, I think sugar or honey.
-I feel like Cooper would have a firm pressure if he held you. He’d love to hold you on his lap, rub your back. If you rest your head on his chest, he doesn’t “play.” With your hair; but more so massages your scalp or neck.
-Cooper likes to read I think or listen to audiobooks. He’d love to listen to you talk about books to if you enjoyed reading. And he’d love recreating scenes from romance books you like 
👀
-Cooper I think is a spanker. He smacks your ass as you’re walking away. Especially when you’re bent over. He’d spank it so hard it would be red. Or if you’re straddling him, he’d grip your ass. But I think he likes tits too. He’s not picky.
-Cooper doesn’t have a “type.” In my opinion. But I think personality wise, he likes nurturing and caring. Someone sweet. He can find beauty in everyone. If you’re goth like me, he’d love that too. But whatever makes you happy.
-Coopers love language towards you is gift giving and physical touch. He likes to give you things or special gifts. And he loves to touch you. I think physical touch and words of affirmation make him feel loved though. Things he didn’t get growing up.
-Last but not least, Cooper loves dad rock. (Me too) but I think he has a guilty pleasure for pop music.
If I forget anyone; I’m sorry! Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @lovalova444 @rosaleelovesdilfs @cryobabyy @stillwjk-channie-lixie @redhead1180 @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @rubyfruitjungle @dinbrowneyes @cellophane-wasp @cattt777 @horrorpiggy @oceanblvd111 @waywardtigersandwich @cherryinterlude @the-ghost-code @wildgirllz @redpillbluepill @velvrei @faelvz @sararuno
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pressureplus · 3 months ago
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Hello!!! I really love the way you write stories and head cannons too.
Idk if this is similar to other one but I'm just gonna do it anyway.
(reader can be she/them)
I always imagine this that Reader and Sebastian used to be best friends and Sebastian had fallen in-love with the reader so he decide that he's going to confess to the Reader but sadly the reader suddenly transfer to other school that is out of the country because their father force them to but the reader sent a final letter to Sebastian which handed by Reader's freind to him.
Years later after Sebastian turned into a monster and the lockdown happened, the reader went down because of the crime they did that they killed their father but got amnesia that they couldn't remember anything. When Sebastian and Reader meet, the reader couldn't remember anything. But is Sebastian gonna try to regain their memories or no.
Sorry if this is too specific. It's fine if you don't want to I respect your decision.
No, no, its not too specific! It just took a while to write, that's all. Sorry if it's not as detailed as you would like. I mostly write half asleep and that's what I'm doing again lol
Aphotic
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Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader
Au: Classic
Warnings: N/A
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ â—žàŸ€àœČâ—Ÿà­šà­§â—žàŸ€àœČ◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ â—žàŸ€àœČâ—Ÿà­šà­§â—žàŸ€àœČ◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
She had left him wanting all those years ago. The way she smiled lit a warm flame in his heart every time he saw it, her laugh ringing like clumsy church bells in his ears. She was beautiful to him, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Entirely striking and stand alone. Of course, falling in love with your best friend never ends well, and it certainly didn't for them. The letter he got that day entirely broke his heart, you’d gone and left him behind. No amount of love could keep you close to him either. It was signed with your name in the prettiest handwriting he’s sure you could manage. Some of the letter was so shakily written it was hard to decipher. As though you were scared, or maybe crying due to some of the little tear stains left on the paper. The ink mixed with it to create little splotches.
Now, here you stood. Your eyes cold and unfamiliar with him. He tried his best to say what he’d wanted all those years ago. He tried to explain how he felt when you just left, leaving only a letter behind. As though you hadn't tore his entire life in two with your bare hands. Yet you stared, eyes entirely blank and expression melting into confusion. It was like staring through ice. Those pools of both uncertainty and without any care, unfamiliar with him, with his voice, with his words. Somehow you not remembering him was the worst part of being down here. What you'd been sent down here for? You never could quite answer. He tried to push his feelings down when he realized you didn't understand a word out of his mouth.
Instead, he lied. He said he's sorry, that you had reminded him of someone he used to know. A person he’d once been familiar with. He was certain that little thing couldn't have been you. She’d been as quiet as a mouse, keeping low and skittering around corners. You couldn't be them, he's sure of that. So he began to help you, his hands in yours practically every step of the way. His all encompassing presence surrounding you, keeping you warm, keeping you fed, keeping you safe. He’d stick his neck out for you and complain the whole time. He’d claim he hated it every time he saved you from certain death. Really, if he was honest, he just wanted to be close to the shell of you.
If he could never have you, if your memories had been lost to time? He’d build new ones. Maybe building them in a place this cold and unforgiving wasn't ideal, but beggars can't be choosers. You were still just as beautiful as the day you left him too. If you were nobody elses heartache for the rest of time, you’d always be his. So he’ll sit and watch you enjoy things you always used too enjoy, and pretend to be just as shocked as you are when you say how happy they make you. Maybe he’ll hand sew you a plushie or two and say he got bored, rather than just wanting you to have something soft to carry around. Maybe he’ll get to fall in love with you all over again.
Maybe this time you'll love him enough to stay. Whether your memories do or don't come back won't change a thing. You will always be his precious Y/N. The one he kisses late at night, the one he cuddles with, the one he hopes to have children with. You're the Y/N he won't let leave him, and he’ll be damned if he can't save you now. Maybe before this place he was small, weak, human. He couldn't have saved you before, let him save you now, won't you?
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modern-gremlin · 6 months ago
Text
Morning Errands | Sebastian SDV — Married Life 🔞
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Pairing: Sebastian (SDV) x afab!reader
Summary: You need Sebastian's help with beginning-of-season errands. If only there was a way you could "wake him up".
Tags: Husband!Sebastian, Smut, established relationship, detailed descriptions of sex, a dash of fluff. NSFW Tags below the cut.
Word Count: 2,900 (I did it, a fic under 5,000 words lol) A/N: Fun Fact — this idea started as a non-SDV related adult animation concept I was in early development of. I unfortunately do not have a lot of time for animating things anymore, so it's definitely more feasible to write it down. PLUS, I just love quickly shooting these stories out — better spat out here than rotting in my brain!!
It was really fun to rewrite it to fit the Stardew Valley world; I think it just gives me so much more to work with. Especially when it comes to writing about the world in detail. (and I get to feed my Sebastian brainworms <33) Hope you enjoy the read xoxo
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NSFW Tags: morning sex, foreplay (dry humping), some dirty talk (mostly teasing), oral (male receiving), overstimulation, creampie
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"Seb? Seeeeebb, it's 6:40," you say softly with a gentle shake of his arm, "we gotta get going." Still unwilling to move from his comfortable spot on the bed, Sebastian stifles a sleepy groan in response. It's always been hard to wake him up — that's something you knew even before you married him. Working freelance comes with the blessing and curse of setting your own work schedule, which means late night cramming sessions are a normal occurrence. You don't really blame him for wanting to sleep in, but today, he promised to help you with your ever-growing list of morning chores.
You run your fingers through his hair, lightly brushing the dark strands off his cheek with the back of your fingers. He just looks so peaceful when he's asleep; it's really such a shame to wake him up like this. Especially when he wraps his arm around you to cuddle against your thigh. It's almost tempting to sink yourself back into his arms and shut the whole world away under the protection of your shared bed covers. Almost — but you know better than to underestimate your beginning-of-season errands. It doesn't help that you also agreed to host a family dinner with Robin and Demetrius this evening. So much to do, so little time. In hindsight, you wish you planned this all a little better.
With a little more force this time, you try to shake him awake. "Mmph
 just a few more minutes
" he mumbles while releasing his arms from your thigh, now lying on his back. At least he's able to get a few words out. That's a good sign, you think to yourself. You head toward your bathroom, hoping that by the time you're done brushing your teeth he'll be sitting upright. Maybe.
A soft, cool breeze enters the small opening of your window as you pass through the hallway. It's remarkable how quickly the seasons change in the valley. From your view in the bathroom, you can catch a glimpse of your summer crops, now reduced to wilted clumps in the soil. You'll definitely need Seb's help with this today. You take a little extra time to brush your teeth and wash your face, trying to buy him time to get up. He's gotta be awake by now, right?
You're not surprised to see him still splayed on the bed, eyes just barely fluttering at the sound of your footsteps entering the room. "Seb, it's almost 7 now. I really need your help," you plead sweetly, hoping the cute tone you've adopted would prompt him to move with more haste. He just smiles and offers a curt, "Mhm," in response, eyes still shut. Wow, he's really out of it, huh? You might need to switch strategies.
If you married Sebastian knowing that he's not exactly a morning person, he should also count on the fact that you're always up for a little bit of mischief — because now, you've got a plan that's basically foolproof. Creeping up to the bed, you slowly plant a knee on each side of his body to gently straddle his lap. With your chest pressed against his, you place kisses on his face. "Sebby, come on" you whisper tenderly into his ear, "you can get up for me, can't you?" He lets out an amused huff out of his nose and wraps an arm around the small of your back. He's definitely more awake now, but perhaps a little more provocation will do the trick.
You kiss along his jaw down to the side of his neck, playing with the collar of his t-shirt with your fingers. His eyes lazily open when you stop, now meeting his gaze from where your cheek rests on his chest. "Morning, sleepyhead. Remember those errands I need help with?" you tease. He lovingly smirks at your remark, placing a hand on your head to gently stroke your hair.
"Mm
 what time is it?" he asks in a raspy voice. You answer his question with a light pinch of his cheek,
"Probably seven, by now. We're running a little late, y'know?"
The fact that 7AM is considered late to you is something he's still getting used to. If left to his own devices, he'd absolutely sleep the day away and have his breakfast at 3PM. Yet, he tries his best to slip into your daily schedule because that'd mean he'd get more time to see your face throughout the day, wouldn't it? But you know what they say, old habits die hard, and right now his old habits have him basically glued to the bed.
"What are the chances I can convince you to push these errands to tomorrow?" he asks cheekily.
"Hm
 slim to none," you reply. "With the dinner party today and the fair coming up in a few weeks, it's gonna be really tough to–" You notice his eyes droop as you speak. "Seb?" He startles awake at the sudden call of his name.
"M' sorry, babe. Promise I'm not doing it on purpose," Sebastian rubs his eyes and yawns. "It's just... hard to stay awake."
With a smile, you shake your head and sigh, "what am I gonna do with you?"
"Hm
I don't know. What are you going to do with me?" He places his hands onto your back again, looking down at you with a suggestive smirk.
Leaning in closer to his face, just barely grazing your mouth over his, you whisper, "I might have a few ideas."
Placing your hands around his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw, you pull him closer into a deep kiss. He tightens the grip around your waist in response, pulling you closer toward him. God, if he wasn't awake a few minutes ago, he definitely is waking up now. He takes your mouth into his, enveloping your lips entirely and gently brushing them with his tongue. You can feel your pulse quickening as your breasts press firmly against him; an urge slowly building and itching at you from below. Unable to contain yourself, you lower your hips to grind against the thick bulge beneath you. You can't help but smile at how hard he already is; grinning against his tongue.
You pull away to shift your weight onto his clothed cock, gasping at how it rubs against you. "At least one part of you is up," you jeer, rocking slow movements against his length. He muses at your words and brushes his hair away from his face, granting him a better view of your body on top of his.
"Can you blame me?" he smiles, his sleepy eyes scanning your form. Running thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt, he gingerly lifts up the fabric to reveal your bare chest steadily bouncing at the rhythm your clothed pussy rubs against him. "Fuck me," he gasps breathily, "what a way to wake up."
His exasperation makes you laugh, motivating you to grind your hips with more fervour. "I'm glad this is working," you admit, "because we have just– so much– to do
" Your words are broken up with every sway of your hips. He pulls your shirt off your arms as you continuously pleasure yourself with his dick, moaning and creating a wet spot on his boxers. He just watches as you use him, in absolute awe by how your body reacts to his. His head slowly falls backward onto the pillow, closing his eyes to take in the stimulation. Then suddenly, you stop.
His eyes dart open again at your weight being lifted off his lap, ready to pull you back onto him. You move his hands away and lower your face to his lap. "Nuh uh. You gotta wake up," you chastise before pulling down his boxers. He groans breathily when his thick cock springs free, smacking his toned stomach from the speed of your movements. Without warning, you spit on his tip and run your palm against his shaft, causing him to tense at the sudden sensation. For a while, he can only stare at you with furrowed brows and complete admiration.
"I should sleep in more often," he teases while grinning at his own remark. But soon his sly grin is replaced by a strained grit because you wrap your fingers around his fat length, stroking him at an unfair pace. He perches himself up by the elbows, watching you fist his cock from base to tip. "Fuck, baby. You gotta slow down or ill–" You lower yourself to lick his balls, dragging your way up the shaft.
"Can't, Sebby," you say, stopping at the tip. "Can't have you falling asleep on me." Taking his length in your hand, you guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.
He instinctually places his hands on the top of your head as he throws back his own. The bed gently shakes at the bobbing of your head, catching and swallowing his length into your throat. It's all so sudden; so frustratingly sexy that he can hardly take it. With the hand that grips at your hair, he tries to pry you off him — hoping to gain some reprieve. But this only invites you to suck on him with more excitement. It's just too hard to resist when he praises you in his gravelly, morning voice. "Holy fuck, babe. You're too good at tha–" You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he pushes you away from him; he must be close.
With a gentle tug of your hair, you give in and pull away. You and Sebastian heave heavily, the latter trying to regain his composure. He's usually the one to make you melt underneath him, so you can't help but marvel at his flustered expression. "You awake now?" you triumph with a mischievous smile. He picks himself up to stare into you; the look in his eyes tell you that you're in for it now.
Releasing his grip, he sits himself upright and leans toward you. "Hm, yeah. I think I am," he says while returning your expression, "turn around."
Without a question, you turn yourself around, resting your chest on the bed while lifting your ass toward him. You wiggle your hips tauntingly in his direction until you're greeted by a firm smack — a small yelp escapes your lips from the impact. "So impatient," he chides while soothing the sting with his palm, "well, you got what you wanted. I'm up." He slaps your ass again before leaning behind you, pressing his chest to your back to whisper into your ear, "unless
there's something else you wanted."
Just the sound of his condescending tone sends shivers down your spine, and he knows it. He hooks a finger by your dripping slit and tugs at your underwear, causing the fabric to bundle tightly against your clit. All semblances of your mischief has disappeared, vanished with his scolding and now you're moaning his name into the covers. You can tell he's enjoying every lewd noise you make, because now he's tugging at your panties harder, trying to elicit a bigger reaction.
"Well, now that I'm awake, let's go over our to-do list, hm?" He releases your underwear, only to slip his cock beneath the fabric and vigorously rub your clit.
"Seb
 I can't–" you plead, eager to feel him plunge inside you. He places his hands on your waist, stroking soothing circles with his thumbs against your back.
"Don't worry, baby. You'll get it, after we go through the list. Okay?" he coos.
Stumbling your words in between moans, you begin listing the day's tasks. "W-we
 need to clear off the crops
and prepare the fields."
"Mhm," he hums while wetting his tip along your slit. "What's next?"
"Clear off the weeds in front of the b-baaaarn–" You words shake as he teases your entrance with his tip, gliding it to catch your slick. "Then go to Pierre's
 to pick up ingredients for tonight." Your legs quiver as he prods your wet cunt, not fully entering.
"Is there
anything else?" Sebastian meaninglessly asks, his own voice getting shaky in anticipation. He doesn't really care what's on the to-do list, not at the moment at least. No doubt he'll have to ask about it later, because all he cares about now is making you beg to be railed.
"We might also need to–" This time, he slowly pushes his cock through your wet folds, slipping himself inch by inch into your cunt until his thighs are flush against you. His size fills you entirely, stopping any words from escaping your mouth.
He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your pussy clench around him, still gritting his teeth to continue, "We might need to what? I didn't
 catch the last part." He nearly pulls himself out entirely while waiting for your response.
"We
might need to–" You breathe in heavily while his dick pulses inside you. "Seb, please," you beg in a petulant tone. Your cries are so needy and desperate, but you don't care. There's no pride between you two, only true love and the aching desire to be fucked. Lucky for you, the feeling is mutual. Deciding he's equally impatient, he fucks his full length back into you.
"I think I get the gist," he says with a satisfied smile before plunging himself in and out of your cunt. He so badly wants to praise how well you took his teasing, but he's almost completely breathless. Lost for words at how tight you are, how well your pretty pussy takes him, and utterly smitten by the way you moan his name between thrusts. He wants to pound more of them out of you — a reminder to everyone in town that you've chosen him and he's the one fucking you the way you deserve.
Really, this is just one of the many moments he's reminded just how lucky he is. He feels so lucky that you decided to move to this boring town. So lucky that you stuck around despite his icy exterior, and miraculously lucky that you fell in love with him. Now he gets to wake up beside you everyday, fuck you like no one else can, and navigate life's mundanities with the person he loves. Morning errands be damned; nothing ever feels like a chore now that you're his.
He pounds you harder now — as if he's trying to bury his intentions deep inside you so you can feel his gratitude. Because even all his sly remarks and bullied thrusts are just another way of praising you; another way to tell you he loves you without saying it out loud. Your pussy clenches down on him so tightly, grasping onto his praises like your life depended on it. Ready to cum all over his cock to confirm that you feel the same. But even if your cunt wasn't being obvious, your words certainly were.
"Seb– it feels so. Fucking. Good," you whine in between thrusts. You try to warn him of your impending burst, but the arch of your back signals your orgasm much faster than you can speak. Backing your ass further into him, you accept his length against your cervix until you feel your release. You convulse around him, whispering thank you's under your breath. The only sound reaching his ears are your muffled cries of pleasure and the squeaking of the bed. He fucks you through your orgasm, but even after you come down from the high, he's still not done.
He rails your stimulated pussy over and over again, causing you to reach out your hand behind you to slow him down. "S-sebastian, I just came. Slower, it's so f-fast"
Grabbing your arm by the wrist, he plows deeper into you. "Sorry, baby. Can't," he says breathily, "We got too much to do today, remember?" You turn your head back to look over your shoulder and flash him a blissed-out smile, silently laughing at his twist of your words.
Reaching around to your front, he rubs circles around your puffy clit while he fucks his last few, sloppy blows inside you. "So close, babe. M'so fucking
close" he says with gritted teeth. His movements on your bud stokes the fire within you, threatening to shatter you once again. With one last buck of his hips against yours, he shoots his load deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim with in white. He groans profanities as he sputters small thrusts into you. The warmth of his semen hitting against you is the last straw, sending you into your second orgasm of the day.
Dropping your wrist from his grip, he leans forward onto your back, pulling out slightly causing his cum to spill out of you. You breathe in unison, heavily and laboured as you try to regain your bearings. Maybe it's been ten minutes or maybe it was an hour, but you both lay beside each other, unbothered by the time that's passing you by.
When you both come down to your senses, your eyes lock onto his and suddenly you're both chuckling at the morning's happenings. With a bright-eyed smile, he takes your palm to rest on his cheek. Placing a kiss on your knuckles, he greets you to start the day.
"Good morning, honey."
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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year ago
Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Hey, Jealousy
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”
Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”
Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”
“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger
”
“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”
A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.
“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”
“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”
“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”
“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”
THEN
It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.
As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.
He could be merciful when he wanted to be.
The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their
 “situationship”, however

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.
“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”
“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”
“I was just - doing - my job-”
Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 
“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”
Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”
“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”
“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”
“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”
“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”
“You’d better be.”
NOW
The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.
“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”
“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 
“We said we’re sorry!”
“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”
“I’m going to kill you–”
John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”
“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”
“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”
Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.
Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”
Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–
“Johnny.”
“Sir?”
Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”
“Aye.”
“Still in effect.”
.
.
.
Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.
Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.
When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –
There.
Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.
All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.
Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.
He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”
She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.
Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”
“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.
“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”
Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”
“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.
With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.
According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.
She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–
The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”
“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”
“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”
She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.
Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.
I should put in for a day or two off.
“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.
“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”
Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.
“Soap-“
“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”
Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries

Anyone would lose their patience.
Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 
As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”
Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”
All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.
“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”
Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?
Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.
“How much of me can you take?”
“All of it.”
“Bloody hell
” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”
She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”
His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.
Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.
Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”
She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.
Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”
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starlightandfairies · 7 months ago
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Helloooo :) i hope you’re having a wonderful day or night! Or just both lol. Anyways, is it okay if I ask for a Klaus Mikaelson x Female reader one-shot? For me, I don’t like where the reader just falls in love with him so quickly, despite everything he has done. I was thinking of something with fluff and he has to work for her love? So basically, reader has been friends with Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline since childhood, but she’s still human. And she hates Klaus for what he has done to her friends and family, but despite everything he has done he hasn’t don’t anything to harm her physically in any way. (Hint hint, cause it means he likes her lol). And because of this, he tries to show he genuinely cares about her. It takes her a long while to eventually warm up to him.
Sorry, this is a lot -_-
uh, and not very detailed lol. I wanted to leave it up to your imagination, but totally fine if you can’t cause writers block and other things. Anyway, an idea: maybe reader gets saved by Klaus and he admits he likes her but she kinda plays hard to get. of course, she can’t help but to be flattered by his accent, his flattery, his looks, etc. And because she is human, being tortured or just kidnapped by supernatural beings is genuinely terrifying and he comforts her? I hope this is all okay! Of course you can change or add whatever you’d like. I love Klaus so much, and I love your writing!
Description: If the great Niklaus Mikaelson wants to become closer to the reader then he would have to push through thick and thin to do so.
Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing
*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*
Thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I really tried my best to show this eventual bonding that is more realistic, while also not rambling on for a story length.
Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, F/fs = favourite flowers
Word Count: 1, 915
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First Person's POV 
Niklaus Mikaelson drove me insane, I do not understand how he thought he could follow me around, begging for my interest like he hasn't done anything wrong to those around him. The great Klaus Mikaelson was many things but he wasn't the type of man I would bend over backwards to show that their past didn't matter. I won't lie, there were times when it was hard to really show my distaste for the Hybrid due to that accent, his looks and his charisma but I do like to pride myself on my stubbornness and the fact that I'm not that easy to charm. 
Besides Matt, I was the only other human, sure Bonnie was in a sense human but she had her magic to protect her and I had nothing. I didn't have any of that. I was just a straight-up human who could die at any second or become permanently injured if tossed around too harshly. The girls have grown to somewhat like him and every now and again will remind me of the fact that not once has he ever tried to hurt me, not once has he ever used me as bait or tried threatening me in any way shape or form.
Bonnie, Caroline and Elena have all expressed their hatred for the man and it only fueled mine. I have no clue what it would take for me to show any sign of sympathy for the man or any sense of forgiveness considering what he's done. There were times when I even disliked Damon and Stefan for what they've done. Sure, it might be contractionary of me to like the Salvatores and not hate them like I did Klaus... but still. 
It's at least been a good two years of having the Mikaelsons in our lives. Rebekah and Elijah were tolerable. I felt for Rebekah and Elijah seemed true to his word, even if he was sometimes conflicted between his family and his morals. Klaus was 
"Hey, Y/n!" I huffed, stopping in my tracks, knowing there was no use in continuing on when he could easily Casper the ghost right in front of me. I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow, not impressed by his persistent attitude. 
"What do you want Niklaus? 
"Well, love... I was hoping I could treat you to some dinner. Show you some of the best places. Things you couldn't possibly comprehend seeing." I rolled my eyes, shook my head, sucked my lips into a straight line and raised an eyebrow.
"Really, Niklaus? Every time it's been a no. What makes you think this will be a yes?" 
"I saw your play last night, I think you are a pretty amazing actress." I didn't believe him, I think that he's making stuff up, trying to show that he's a good guy. 
"Prove it, what happened when the actor playing Stanley threw his chair." Klaus chuckled lightly, licking his lips for a moment before he walked closer and leaned in for a moment. 
"You tripped over your own feet, fell over... you worked it into your performance, no one in that audience would've known any different. I think skill like that is pretty talented. I have seen many performers across my lifetime and not many could do that." I rocked on my feet, biting my lips and huffing for a moment. 
"You came to my performance?" I questioned my tone soft for a moment, surprised that Klaus came. The girls weren't able to due to supernatural issues happening again, I didn't want to show any sign of falling for his charm.
"Yes, I did. I don't know why you sound so surprised..." I shrugged, taking a breath, glancing away for a moment trying to remain as stoic as I could.  
"I have to go, goodbye, Klaus." I carried on my way, going back to doing what I originally planned on doing before. Tonight was the closing night of A Streetcar Named Desire the girls were meant to show but once again due to the new big bad in town, they didn't show. I stood in my dressing room, wiping off my makeup before the tears could come. I was just about to open the door before I was stopped by Klaus.
"K-Klaus... what, what are you doing here?" He handed me a bouquet of my F/fs, I took them with a small smile and stepped aside to allow him into the dressing room. 
"You got your own dressing room, that's pretty neat..." The Hybrid trailed off, glancing at the desk that was covered in tissues, I moved to clean them up but he moved in front of me before I could. 
"Why are you crying...?" 
"I'm okay Niklaus." I turned to him hearing his chuckle, I raised an eyebrow in question, how dare he laugh at me!
"I promise, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at the fact that when I'm getting closer to breaking down your walls, you call me Klaus but when you realise that you're dropping your walls you go right back to calling me Niklaus." I sat back down, staring at him surprised that he picked up on something that I hadn't actively been aware of doing. 
"My friends couldn't come. They promised that they would but because of the new big bad in town... they couldn't and because I'm human-" Realising I was sharing my than I would like to Klaus, I bit my lip trying to remind myself that I couldn't get close to Klaus. 
"Let me read you something." He pulled out a newspaper, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, just for once but turned my attention to continuing to remove my makeup. 
"Y/n L/n's performance as Blanche DuBois has been spectacular on all nights of the production. In my years as a critic, I have never seen this much dedication and accuracy similar to the vision Tennessee Williams had when picturing Blanche DuBois. I admire Y/n greatly as a performer and know that she is an actress highly dedicated to perfecting her characters' mannerisms and hope that she goes far with her acting journey." I stared at Klaus surprised, I jumped to my feet, staring at Klaus with intrigue and took the paper from his hands. 
I read the words, staring at them in shock that this was actually true, the author's name is what shocked me the most. Klaus M
"You wrote this?" 
"I did." 
"And you mean it?" 
"I do." Maybe... maybe if a man who didn't know me could make the time to watch all of my performances... maybe he wasn't so bad. 
"Thank you, Klaus... it means a lot." 
It took two years, four months and 18 days for Klaus Mikaelson to get me to warm up to him, I think I deserve a trophy for just how long I've made him work to get to know me better. The truth is, I am terrified of getting killed, kidnapped or tortured by the supernatural me, I mean what if someone worse than Klaus comes into town and because I am one of the very few humans left in town I get used as collateral? 
I was walking home from the Grill, minding my own business until everything went dark and I finally came to find myself tied up in a chair, blood dripping from my nose, head and stomach. I cried out, looking around terrified of who could be hurting me and what they would do if they didn't get what they wanted. 
"Hmm, you're awake again. Try not to pass out this time... the blood loss will really be screwing with your head. I would apologise but I really don't care I just need that damn hybrid to come forward and save your ass-" 
"Who are you?" I cried out, trying my best to not show weakness but the pain in my limbs and the fear that was coming in made it impossible to think of anything but my pain. 
"Who I am isn't important, I tried to keep your face pretty but you know." The unknown figure shrugs, leaning in closer and grabbing my face in his hands with a glare forming and with a snarl he reveals his fangs. I shake my head, feeling his breath on my skin and whimper feeling his fangs pierce my neck. 
It fades away swiftly, the tears cascade down my cheeks, and I stare in shock seeing Klaus standing there and dropping the man's heart onto the floor. Within an instant I was in his arms, I grabbed onto his shirt letting out a sob and whimpering as the pain seemed to increase. 
"Shh, love, it's okay... you're gonna be okay. I've got you." Klaus reassured, biting into his wrist, he gestures to his wrist and I slowly suck on his wrist. 
"I won't let anything happen to you, love. I am very fond of you, I will not let anything happen before I can tell you just how fond I am of you." I stared in fascination as my body healed instantly, it always surprised me and always made me curious to realise how lucky these supernatural beings were. 
"Please, please don't let them hurt me. Don't let them get to me." 
"It's okay, love. I've got you." 
"I'm so scared, every day, I'm scared that I'm going to be kidnapped or tortured... being human, I know I'm nothing compared-"
"I won't let that happen. Love, I won't let anyone hurt you, not again. I swear to you." He hummed lightly, rocking me in his arms and whispered over and over again kind and soothing words. I decided to bring it back to his starting words, once I felt okay and able to move on from what just happened. 
"You're fond of me? Nothing new-" I stated, with a shrug, biting back the smile I wanted to show, Klaus chuckled and helped me to my feet. I stared at him, surely making a weird expression as I hid my emotions. 
"I am fond of you, I like you, quite a bit and I want you to know, love I will do anything to keep you safe. Even if you hate me for the rest of eternity, I will do what I can to keep you safe." My heart skipped a beat, it made me feel special knowing that someone cared for me that much, I nodded and sucked in a breath gradually letting a smile come through. 
"Thank you for saving me... "
"You're welcome, love. Love, I hope you know how gorgeous you are." I blushed, scrunching my face up as his normal charm got to me more than normal. 
"Flattery only gets you so far." 
"Yet, it got me to becoming closer to you." I shrugged, smirking for a moment and sucked in a deep breath. I grabbed his hand, smiling happily and tried my best to not focus in on the blood on my clothes, his clothes and the floor from the attacker. 
"Well, then, perhaps I'll let you in closer." 
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11cupids-tarot11 · 5 months ago
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Short messages from your cat/kitten! ₊˚âŠč♡ ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎
˚₊⋅─── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ───⋅ ˚₊
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1 -> 2
Cupid's Services Cupid's Master-List Socials
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Pile 1- Queen of Cups, Nine of Cups, Nine of Pentacles.
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Hi my pile 1's! So right off the bat I feel like your cat really adores you! You guys are best buds, your cat loves to spend lots of quality time with you, just chilling in the same room as you, I'm seeing for some they really love watching you 😍 lol some of you could like to listen to music with your cat and even for some your cat loves listening to you play an instrument ✹ it's like special bonding time you guys have!
I think your cat is very content with you and hopes you are too! They love the way the things are even if sometimes they show it in a funny way like by knocking over cups and such đŸ€Ł they think you're so beautiful, in everything you do! They see every detail! They admitted to really love you, like family! Lol. I think you have always grown up around animals or have always been an animal lover, you could've had your cat for awhile now, even have other small pets like fishes and such, they might like to watch those too! How cute!
I feel like for some of you this is a boy cat. Someone could be a water sign, the color blue might be significant here!
Hope you enjoyed!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Pile 2- Six of Cups, Queen of Cups, Queen of Wands.
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Hi pile 2!
For some of you I feel like this is a cat you might've had one when you were younger since they were a kitten, but you don't have them anymore. I feel like a majority of you they might've passed away. But they want to say they love and adore you, you were their queen! They idolized you lol you were so sweet to them, took very good care of them and they love you for it and want you to know that! 💘
You could've found this cat as a kitten or maybe been given them, either way you treated them with so much adoration and they remember your lovely smile! 😊 Because you were so sweet to them!
This cat could've followed you around as a kitten! Might've imprinted on you and thought you were their mother đŸ„ș💖
I feel they also think it was so amazing how you knew exactly how to take care of all their needs, like when they were hungry you suddenly knew every time and bam like magic they had food lol đŸ€Ł how cute they think you took care of them very well! They thank you for that! 💖 đŸ„č
Hope you like this reading!!
/ᐠ≜꩜ ᯅ ê©œâ‰Œăƒž
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