#and you'd be shit out of luck without connections

[chenziee]

Happy 34 communism-free years!

Thank you to all the people who took part in taking the regime down. So glad I never had to live through that time, thanks to you 🙏❤

Rest in peace to everyone who died fighting or merely tried to get out of this hell. You will not be forgotten.

Iron curtain can get fucked ❤

[irisintheafterglow]

hello hello everyone my sincerest apologies for being so ia lately...

*drops this enemies to lovers abomination on your doorstep like a cat and then disappears back into the woods*

cw: swearing, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injury, more swearing

it wasn't your first choice to be roommates with dabi. in fact, it wasn't your choice at all; it was shigaraki's. when you first joined the league and were declared important enough to stay in the same housing situation as the rest of its members, the only available space was a small side bedroom that was more like an oversized closet.

and just your luck, it was connected to the bedroom of the deep-fried creep himself.

for one, he unsettled you beyond belief, always lurking in shadowed corners and moving about without so much as a rustle. he had a nasty habit of saying whatever was on his mind, always biting out a comment that had you scrunching your nose in distaste. but mostly, he figured out early into your situation that it was very easy to get on your nerves.

he hid your body wash.

he mismatched your socks.

he moved all of your furniture one inch to the left so you kept running into the corner of your nightstand.

he walked into your room and pulled a single corner of your fitted sheet off the mattress.

his little pranks were always irritating but not enough to feel genuinely angry over, which was frustrating in and of itself. your attempts to voice your concerns to others, however, proved fruitless.

"have you considered that maybe he likes the attention you give him?" you shrug in lieu of responding, plucking another puff of stale popcorn from the bowl between you and toga as your legs swing off the ledge of some abandoned high-rise just outside of musutafu. "i'm serious," she continues, unsettlingly thoughtful. "dabi doesn't do all of that for anyone else."

"yeah, because he actually likes you guys, even if he won't admit it," you point out. "he does all that shit because he's pissed he has to share a bathroom with me."

"i think it entertains him, to a certain extent," toga muses and you frown, feeling far from comforted. "i know he cares, if that matters at all."

"how so?"

"he's grumpier when you're on longer assignments. checks in on your room, waiting for you to get back." you blink at her and wait for toga to declare that she's kidding and spontaneously prance away into the night. but, she doesn't, and when she catches you staring in disbelief, she shows her palms in surrender. "dabi hasn't told me anything, i promise. it's just what i've observed."

"and how many times have you observed this and never told me?"

"let's see," she begins, counting on her fingers a concerning amount of times before giving up and rolling her eyes. "it's kinda hard, since it's not always sulking in your room. he pesters everyone about when you'll be back, especially me and twice. he and tomura almost got into it when dabi tried to interrogate the boss about your whereabouts."

"maybe he's just wondering when i'll finally die so he can have his space back," you mutter, unimpressed.

"no, i don't think that's it," toga states earnestly. "if he wanted to kill you, he definitely would have by now. we all would have."

"thanks, toga. you really know how to make someone feel better," you deadpan but are unable to keep your smile from breaking through when she beams at you like she'd won the lottery. "let's just hope i get to have a serious conversation with him before he pours sand in my sheets."

as luck would have it, your wish for a serious conversation would eventually arrive...while you were struggling to staunch the bleeding from your shoulder.

it was a lucky hit from your opponent, a simple lapse in your judgment that gave them enough time to swipe at your neck. you meant to block with your forearm, but barely brought up your arm in time for the blade to slash just above your armpit. by the time you'd disposed of the crime syndicate tomura sent you to destroy and clambered through your window, the dark spots in your vision were closing in like a black-and-white movie vignette. you couldn't muster the energy to shout for help, nor could you find another piece of fabric to stop the bleeding. eventually, your body slumps against the frame of your bed, the exposed mattress soft on the back of your head. that fucker must have pulled up the fitted sheet corner again, you groan in your head, a last-ditch idea forcing you to grab your phone by pure instinct.

"i'm busy," is the first thing dabi says when he picks up the call, not expecting to hear you on the other end. on your side, it's enough to annoy you into having more energy; on his side, he can sense something is off as soon as he hears the unevenness of your exhales. he wills his feet to move faster across the dark rooftops, away from the bright flaming scene behind him and closer to home.

"yeah, and i'm bleeding all over your dirty floor, jackass," you grit out. he can't tell whether to burst out laughing or stop his heart from sinking. "if you could steal some gauze on your way back, that'd be fuckin' terrific."

"stop talking," he grumbles, "you're wasting energy. i'll be home soon, so stay on the line."

"you're literally so annoying, do you know that?"

"yeah, yeah. i know you love it." even as your consciousness fades in and out, you can still register the smirk in his voice. "hey." the sternness in his voice snaps you awake. you don't remember closing your eyes, nor can you tell how long they were shut. "you better still be alive, idiot."

"my heart beats from pure spite, dabi, so don't worry about me," you scowl. "get here faster so i can wring your stupid neck."

"aww, the little wifey wants me home," he teases and you physically cringe away from the phone, your fingers stained crimson after trying to pack your wound with whatever rag you could find.

"remind me to kill you once you get back."

"you wanna kill me now that i'm back," he replies without missing a beat. the hang-up tone beeps at the same time as your window slides open again. you vaguely register him crouching in front of you, his fingers ghosting over your injury.

"i fucking hate you," you declare unexpectedly after he's retrieved the first-aid kit from your shared bathroom. "you have no idea how much i loathe your existence."

"it's good to see you too, i guess," he responds absentmindedly. you watch his eyes, so intense and absolutely molten, scan over your skin and analyze what to do next like a supercomputer. "hey," he snaps his fingers twice in front of your fading vision. "you gonna tell me why you hate me, or am i gonna have to drag your ass from out of the underworld?"

"i hate you and your pretty eyes," you scowl, once again very much awake. he makes a noise between a chuckle and a snort and prepares a cloth with enough alcohol on it to just smell painful. one hand firmly holds your shoulder in place and your body acts on instinct when he moves closer with the cloth. "don't fucking touch me with that."

something inside him snaps before he can control it.

"you wanna die instead, then, dumbass?" you blink at him, taken aback by the sudden frustration that breaks through his cool demeanor. your mouth tightens into a straight line when you catch the way his eye twitches just above the stapled purple skin on his cheek. it didn't seem like he was frustrated with you, he seemed frustrated with...himself? "you hate me that much that you won't let me save your damn life? what the hell did i do to deserve that?"

"you pulled the corner off this stupid bedsheet, to get started on just one thing, and don't get me started on that dumb--" you're cut off by your body spasming on its own as he presses the cloth onto your wound, white-hot pain searing through your entire right side. the action leaves you gasping for breath, heaving on the floor with tears pricking the corner of your eyes; when you come back to yourself a few seconds later, you register dabi's free hand has traveled from your shoulder to gently cradle the side of your neck.

"there you are, easy. you can come back to me now," he murmurs, his thumb brushing just under your jawline. "i figured making you angry would distract you long enough to let me clean this up...i'm sorry."

"is..." you swallow and your voice suddenly seems so much smaller. "is the painful part over?" to your surprise, he doesn't insult you or mock your cowering; if anything, his gaze softens when he nods.

you sit in an uncomfortably awkward silence for several more minutes as he stitches up your gash. being around dabi, for better or for worse, was like having a human muscle relaxant nearby. your body couldn't help but decompress, slowing your heartrate to a speed you almost mistook for feeling safe. as much as he irritated you and loved to get under your skin, something about his presence felt reliable, and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't attentive.

"do you mean what you say?"

"hmm?"

"you heard what i said." asshole. you roll your eyes and wait for him to back it up with some sort of insulting humor. but, when he's finished carefully pressing a bandage on your shoulder, he sits back and waits for you to respond. "well?"

"of course i don't," you force out after a few moments' hesitation. "i could never truly hate you, no matter how much i try."

"why do you try? am i that easy to hate?"

"honestly, i thought you would be," you admit and his eyebrows raise once, like he was huffing in amusement. "but for the life of me, i just don't see you the same way the world does." he stiffens and clears his throat, his attention darting anywhere but your face. "you're annoying, please don't get me wrong," you quickly clarify.

"oh, we were doing so well," he chides with a poorly-hidden smirk and you lightly swat him with your uninjured arm. "this is the part where you confess your undying love for me."

"in your dreams, stupid."

"isn't everyone always saying you can make your dreams a reality?" you finally spare him an exhausted laugh and he gives you a rare smile, one you only saw once in a blood moon. "speaking of dreams, you should rest. shigaraki's gonna want a debrief in the morning, and you know he gets grumpy on thursdays." you groan and put on your best innocently-manipulative face.

"do you wanna keep taking care of me and take over my breakfast shift for tomorrow?" your eyelids droop but you still persist in batting your lashes.

"i'd rather die, but good effort!" he replies and you return to your blank expression. without hesitation, his arms loop under your legs and back and gingerly set you on your bed, pulling the sheets over your body and going so far as to tuck you in. "you all snug in there, little bug?"

"i am, thank you." without another word, he departs with a single bow of his head and an unfamiliar sense of panic washes over you as he steps closer and closer to the exit. "w-wait--"

"i thought you'd never ask." he turns on his heel like he'd been waiting for you to speak up and returns to your side, respectfully stopping at the edge of the bed. "alright, let's hear it. i'd like to hear a 'please, dabi' and a 'thank you for saving my life' and a 'you're the best in the entire city' and--"

"get in the bed, idiot, before i change my mind," you conclude, carefully flipping yourself so that your back is to him. you hear him chuckle and slip under the blankets with you, draping an arm across your midsection to pull you closer. "is this the part where you confess your undying love for me?" his breath is even and warm on the back of your neck, and you swear you feel his lips brush your skin before he answers.

"yeah, something like that."

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[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART SIX

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You give Javi some time to explain his connection with Los Pepes and a conversation makes you realize your feelings for Javier are still confusing.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, smut, (but without details for no spoilers) Javi being sweet, and then being jealous

A/N: that's not my best chapter but if you guys want Javi and reader together here's some crumbles

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

• PART FIVE

4.1k words

Javier paced the room and rubbed his face, still not believing how all that shit happened.

He knew working with Los Pepes wasn't a smart move, but he was so done, so fed up and at that moment, it was the only way out to stop Escobar's terrorism spree. If the cops weren't strong enough, maybe the criminals who didn't agree with his ways could be.

He wasn't proud of it but after Carrillo's death he realized something should be done as fast as possible. When a strong man like Carrillo was cowardly murdered in a trap, he saw anyone could be killed like that. Fuck, Murphy and himself should've been there, they should've been dead by then and the only reason they got away was pure luck.

He could deal with his self hatred, with his shame and how low he got, but he couldn't deal with all that coming from you.

He wasn't stupid, you were both past that point, you did hate him, and you couldn't stand him, but until then, no matter how bad he hurt you, it was on the personal side. Not that it hurt any less, but he knew it was bound to happen, he always screwed things up and even if he hadn't pushed you away at that moment, he would break your heart one way or another.

But he still had your respect as a cop, as an agent, especially after he'd saved you from Carlos, you still admired him professionally, but now? He was sure he was nothing to you.

He didn't know what options he had now, if had any at all, you'd said you wouldn't tell anyone, but were you telling the truth? Maybe he scared you off acting like a creep earlier, but he couldn't control himself, it just happened and when he realized, he was already pressing your body against the wall, he already had his lips on your skin, it was a sudden need, his body ached for it and all he wanted to do at that moment was to show you he wasn't a dirty cop and he still your Javi.

Your Javi.

He wished he was still your Javi, he missed that dearly.

He thought of lighting up another cigarette but gave up, getting the envelope in hands and crossing the hall. He knocked on your door insistently. He knew you were there and he hadn't seen any indications your prince charming was around, so he waited patiently until you opened it.

His jaw tightened the moment he saw you wrapped in nothing but a towel, you had just got out of the shower and his cock twitched inside his tight jeans. Fuck, you were gorgeous and your body was tempting and inviting. If he could, he would just wrap his arms around your body and press you against the wall. He wouldn't have strength to take you to the bathroom, he would just get on his knees and eat your pussy right there and then before fucking you in the middle of your living room.

You, on the other hand, managed to calm down after you locked yourself inside, you stopped crying and tried to rationalize things instead of leaving it to your heart. You felt crushed at finding out Javier was involved with drug dealers, you could never expect that from him, you always assumed Javi was one of the best agents DEA had in Colombia, his work results were really impressive, you knew how much this job took a toll on the agents, how dark and depressed they eventually got, it was the kind of duty that often broke them, and yet you'd seen Javier being so human at work more than once.

Before he treated you like garbage and you fell out, you had plenty examples of what a sweet man he could be.

He was so kind to people, to you, to kids, and even if he insistently said he wasn't much of a cat person, he still fed the stray one that walked around the building some leftovers.

So could he really be a double agent?

You weren't sure, but apparently he desperately wanted you to believe he was not a dirty cop. He was so desperate he repeated that over and over, while his face was buried in the crook of your neck and his lips dragging small kisses on your skin, or when he had his face buried between your breasts and was getting so dangerously close to your nipples.

Just the mere memory of it was enough to bring that familiar tingle back in a place that longed for a man's touch.

So when you realized Javier was working his sinister power of making you inappropriately turned on, you knew it was time to go for a shower.

You even managed to relax and get your mind off that for a while but when you heard knocks on the door, you knew your torment was about to begin again.

Funny how you just knew it was Javier knocking on your door, you didn't have any external clue, just a hunch it would be him, and once you opened the door, there he was.

You could tell his monkey brain had forgotten absolutely every word he had rehearsed telling you the moment he saw you standing there with only one towel around your body. Of course it wasn't appropriate but at that point you were just so tired you invited him inside and told him to lock the door.

You turned your back to him and disappeared into the hallway, leaving your bedroom only when you were finally fully clothed. The disappointment in his eyes was visible and you just wanted to scoff at his nerve in thinking that after everything you would still welcome him naked and fuck him on the couch just like one of those cheap porn movies he probably enjoyed watching.

"What are you doing here, Javier? I thought we'd already talked about everything… I know I have nothing else to say to you"

Javi placed both hands on his waist and nodded "I know you don't, but I gotta tell you a few things and you will listen to me"

You rubbed your forehead and weighed your options: you could either willingly let Javier explain himself or you could ask him to leave and that would lead into another argument and accusations and you were just exhausted of that, not to mention Javier has his ways of making you hear, he proved that earlier by almost making you cheat on your boyfriend.

You were really enjoying your relationship with Manu, but you also knew Javier and how powerful his touch was and you also knew yourself enough not to trust the two of you so close like that. You just couldn't play with fire.

So you got up, grabbed a bottle of wine, two glasses and allowed Javier to start.

You listened through one, two, three, four glasses of wine.

Javi made sure to explain to you detail by detail, how he felt the night Carrillo executed those boys and how he began losing faith in the police. Then Carrillo was executed in a humorless action of destiny and he turned to the most unlikely ally to defeat Pablo Escobar.

You didn't interrupt him and once Javier had finished his account you could see he got even more relaxed, of course it could just be the effect of alcohol but he was so relieved he didn't have to keep that secret all by himself and he could finally feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder.

He killed the rest of the wine and stared at you, waiting for what you had to say.

You shook your head and sighed, letting all his words sink in.

Javier wasn't a double agent, he kinda was actually, but he didn't benefit from that deal with Los Pepes, and he didn't give them privileged information from the DEA unless it was about Pablo's sicarios whereabout. The body count that grew each passing day had a lot of Peña's doing. But none of those dead bodies when they were still alive were good people, and they wouldn't hesitate to do much worse than what Javier was doing.

In conclusion, what Javier was doing was wrong, but you didn't really care, you knew he was helping make the streets safer even if it was in a twisted way.

What really concerned you was his integrity. It was dangerous, and what if they thought he wasn't useful anymore? What would happen to him? You remembered you left him waiting for words of support or despise or anything at all, what he couldn't bear was the silence.

"I don't like this, Javi" you admitted and bit your lips "it's dangerous, if the DEA finds out about it, you can lose your badge, you can go to jail! And that's not even the worst part: you can get yourself killed!"

He knew you were right and he wished he could turn back in time and undo all the shit he had done, he hated to see how worried you were, the hint of disbelief and disappointment that still lingered there.

"Just like Steve's cat!"

You quickly added and saw how Javi let out some belly chuckles at your words. For some reason that sounded inappropriately funny and you couldn't help but laugh as well, the best example you could think of was a dead cat and for whatever reason it amused Javier.

It'd been a really long time since you two had shared a laugh and you only realized how much you truly missed it at that moment. He was able to calm down and took a deep breath, going oddly silent and took your hand, holding it in his

"If I were killed, would you care?"

He asked you in a low, shy voice and tried reading your expression, he just needed to know if you still had any good feelings left for him or if he had just screwed things up royally and there was nothing left of the two of you.

You stared at him in disbelief, biting your lips as you observed his sweet brown eyes, making you melt on the inside. You liked Manu's eyes, but now you were so close to Javi, you were sure no one could beat his warm pools of brown, looking like a lost puppy craving for love.

"Javi" you whispered and saw how big his hand was compared to yours, how his long fingers stroked your skin in a caress "of course I would care… I-I think I would die too"

You admitted and saw how his expression got indecipherable this time, you felt so exposed, so raw to admit that, but when he pulled you for a hug you knew you had done the right thing by being honest with Javi. You also needed to be honest with yourself. You still had pretty strong feelings for Javier, he was your everything, you wanted to make things work with Manu, but Javi owned your heart in a way you thought no other man ever would.

"I think you should go home now, Javi" you told him gently and he nodded, he knew now you still had feelings for him, and he had feelings for you, but Javier decided to do the honorable thing and step away. For once, he was going to respect your decision and only if you admitted to yourself first and to him you wanted him, he would be with you.

•••

"So, Connie's back and we're having a barbecue so we want to invite you, Y/N" Steve said with a grin as you stood by his desk. Once more, some documents and files had been delivered wrongly to your department and you had to take a trip to the DEA division to hand it over.

You felt kind of guilty to think the last time you were there and you went snooping through Carlos' desk and found the evidence on Javier. You knew the correct thing would be giving them to Steve and reporting Javier for his illicit actions, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Instead, you gave them to Javier and promised you wouldn't say a thing.

Still, your eyes ran around the room, silently checking for another yellow envelope like that, whoever took those pictures and tried ratting on Javi could try doing it again.

You realized you weren't paying attention to Steve, so he just laughed softly, he'd been in great spirits ever since his wife returned. So he didn't even care if the world was falling into pieces.

"I said you can take Manu if you'd like, and maybe Javi can bring his girlfriend" he winked at the two of you and thought it was even more amusing to see how Javi shot you desperate, puppy eyes at his joke.

"I don't have a girlfriend…" he said embarrassedly and you nodded, rolling your eyes at Steve "you're very funny, Steve, we missed that" you smirked and said goodbye to them.

After that night, you and Javi were on speaking terms again, though you didn't have much to talk about - or the things you did want to talk about weren't so appropriate.

Steve looked down at his desk and noticed your forgotten your notebook. You often carried with you taking notes and writing down important stuff.

He grabbed it and saw when something fell from inside of it. He frowned curiously and laughed as he saw it was a picture from Javier.

"Hey Jav… Y/N forgot her notebook here, you should go and hand it to her" he called his friend's attention and placed the notebook and the picture down.

Javier frowned and took it into his hands. He couldn't believe it. It was a picture of himself and his horse, from the last time he'd been home. It was taken at his dad's ranch and he had his characteristic sunglasses on and a big smile on his face.

Javi usually kept that picture in a portrait in his living room, he'd seen you staring at it before, always complimenting his smile and making him blush, in a dorky way he always felt embarrassed.

He had noticed the picture seemed to have disappeared a few months ago but didn't actually care a lot about it, he had so many other things to worry about other than that.

However, the mystery was solved and now he knew where it'd gone.

He checked the back of the polaroid and felt his cheeks heating up and felt so thankful Murphy hadn't paid attention to it, otherwise he would be teased for the rest of his miserable life.

He recognized your handwriting immediately and he didn't understand why you'd written that, but it brought a smile to his lips, feeling a warmth spread through his chest.

"Javi és el fuego que arde mi piel ♡ "

He shook his head and got up, taking the elevator and going straight to your floor. He felt a sudden need to see you, it wasn't enough, he wanted to hand you the picture, see your face when you realized he knew about your habit of stealing from his place.

He saw you focused on the piles of paper in front of you and took a second to admire how beautiful you were, he cursed himself under his breath for the hundredth time for being such a moron, if he had played his cards right, you could have been his by now and he would be the luckiest motherfucker in the world, but now he only had crumbles of your attention and it was already good enough because it was much more than what he deserve it.

"You forgot your notebook, cariño" he said with his usual smirk, leaning his body against your desk and watching you.

You looked up at him and couldn't help but allow yourself to smile, it was just so Javi and it reminded you of good times.

You took the notebook from his hand but he caught your fingers in his grip "rojo te sale muy bien, cariño" he said, looking at your red nails and winking at you.

You didn't have enough time to answer, when Manu patted Javier's shoulder, drawing his attention

"Agent Peña, I don't appreciate when you talk like that with my girlfriend, I'd like you to keep respectful" the younger man said politely and turned to you, pecking your lips gently, which caused Javi to look away.

You said goodbye to Manu, promising to meet him later, though the situation embarrassed you a little, you also felt pretty good about the scene Javier just witnessed. One peck on the lips would never hurt him as much as the image of him and a hooker that looked like you hurt your feelings, but if he looked bothered and that was a victory for you.

You could tell Javi gritted his teeth and licked his lips softly, raising an eyebrow at you

"So you guys are an item for real?"

You tilted your head and nodded

"Well, yeah… it's recent, but it is a nice relationship"

Javier shrugged in disdain and bit the inside of his cheek

"It's surprising, I figured you could do better than Manuel"

You scoffed and laughed at the nerve he got, nor believing he had the guts to talk about Manu like that.

"Yeah? And who would be better, you?"

Yes, me.

That was the first thing that crossed Javi's mind, squinting his eyes softly as a heat spread in his lower belly, he felt so annoyed at your sassy, bitchy reply, before things happened you had never been this bratty towards him, and at the same time he felt a hint of annoyance something else woke inside of him.

He felt like he wanted to teach you a lesson, punish you so you wouldn't be all sarcastic towards him, and more importantly, you wouldn't look for another cock than his. He would bend you over his lap, lift that slutty skirt up and give you one, two, three swats, watching as his handprint would be there, in a delicious shade of red, marking your beautiful cheeks as his, at the same time he would pull your panties to the side, spread your legs a little and he would shove his fingers into your soaked cunt, making you whimper as he finger fucked you and you had to rub your clit on his rough jeans to help you get your relief.

Instead, Javier just sighed and placed his polaroid on your desk.

"I'm still a DEA agent, I could have you arrested for theft, Y/N" he said before straightening up his body and walking away, leaving you mortified at the fact he'd found out you'd stolen that picture of him.

•••

"So, what's Peña's deal with you?" Manu asked as he filled your glass of wine and got comfortable on the couch. It wasn't the first time he had been to your apartment, but it was the first time he was going to spend it there with you and that made you a little nervous.

Steve's barbecue would be the next day so you figured it would make sense to have your boyfriend spend the night over, instead of making him drive back and forth.

You thanked him for the wine and took a long sip, finding the right words to tell Manu.

You didn't want to lie, but you also couldn't tell him the truth… how would he react to knowing you were crazy about Javier Peña? You were sure he wouldn't take things well, who wouldn't? Javier had such a reputation, it wouldn't work.

"Well, Javi-Javier and I were very good friends, we used to be close friends" you began "and I know how that sounds, but I never had sex with him or anything remotely close to it, I did develop some kind of a crush, but it faded with time" there it was, your first lie.

"We had some disagreements and we fell out with each other, then he kept his distance and I did the same as he was engaged in some peculiar relationship…" second lie.

But you couldn't screw things up with Manu, you couldn't tell him the whole reason why you fell out with Javier was because you kissed and he felt guilty about being a dick, and then he made things even worse by hiring your lookalike hooker, how could you just dump all that on him?

Luckily to you, Manu was a ray of sunshine, he was a truly nice guy and deep down you knew he was way better than you deserved it. He softened up and smiled, leaning in and kissing you.

One kiss led to a second, then a third and when you realized, Manu had you under him. His cock was buried deep inside of your cunt and though you were wet, something was missing.

You didn't know exactly what, you rubbed your clit at the same time he pounded into you but it wasn't the same you were expecting to feel.

It was weird, you couldn't exactly tell what was off, but something was indeed off and you didn't know what to do.

You closed your eyes and tried focusing on moving your hips against your boyfriend's but suddenly a flash of brown eyes appeared in your mind. You shook your head unconsciously, but your mind wouldn't just obey you, suddenly you were imagining a mustache scratching your skin, as familiar lips kissed you down.

Your imagination was so vivid you could practically feel Javier's fingers on your body, his touch, his arms holding you and that set a fire into you you didn't think you were holding in.

And then you moaned. Loud.

You finally began enjoying yourself, each thrust you pretended it was Javier fucking you, making you one of his whores and it wasn't right, it was disgusting and it sent you to a very messy orgasm.

Javi walked down the hall carrying some groceries bag he got after postponing it forever and now he finally had food to make himself dinner.

He got some drinks to take to Steve's barbecue the next day and also a bottle of your favorite wine, maybe he could knock on your door later and invite you over for a glass, now you guys were on speaking terms again and maybe you'd enjoy it, right?

He looked for his keys in his jacket pocket absentmindedly when he heard muffled sounds. He thought it was odd and looked around, but this time the sounds were louder, enough to be heard in the hallway.

He frowned as an anxiety crept up in his chest, as the possibility of a scenario formed in his head.

But it couldn't be true.

It wouldn't, would it?

He swallowed and walked to your door, he didn't feel proud of it but he needed to be sure.

He placed his ear against the door and gasped when he recognized what kind of noises were those.

You were moaning.

Javier didn't know how to describe what he felt, it was like his limbs went numb at the same time he felt his whole body heating up in an unpleasant way as his heart raced.

Jealousy, anger, bitterness, rage, it all took over him.

He couldn't believe you were letting that boy fuck you like a bitch.

He wanted to break into your apartment and take that piece of shit away from you. He wanted to pull you by the hair, bend you over on your cute coffee table and pound you from behind, he wanted to make you moan like that. He wanted your red nails scratching down his back, he wanted you calling his name as he brought you to the best orgasm you could have. He wanted his sheets soaked with your honey, he wanted to be drowning in your juices, he wanted his mouth on your nipples, on your clit, on your ass. He wanted his cum to drop down every part of your body, but he couldn't have it because you were someone else's.

He stepped away from your side of your hallway as if it burned him and went to his place, fumbling with the lock and just throwing the bags inside.

He immediately turned around and walked back to his car. There was no way he would stay home that night, not when he could hear you being fucked by another man across the hall.

_____

A/N: I may or may not be a little too horny for Javier 🤷‍♀️

[velvetvexations]

The thing about comparing Kipperlilly's grudge to hating DEI and affirmative action is that those things are exactly what she's advocating for. The Bad Kids are not receiving accommodation for anything - and in fact Aguefort seems like the type to despise things like accommodations and would tell disabled people to pick themselves up by their bootstraps, but I digress -rather, they have direct connections to massive save-the-world plots three years in a row now that puts them way ahead of everyone else. Though they put in hard work, that doesn't change the fact that no one else working as hard as they can will ever equal being told to go stop a god from coming back and coincidentally your dad (a) worked directly with that dead god's primary agent in the past and (b) is now a super cool angel secret agent who will directly assist you in the task. Oh, and also, your teammate's parents are the dead god's primary mortal agents. And also they kidnapped your other teammate's dad because he's a powerful demon lord so now she's involved too. And you all happen to end up on Leviathan, where Fabian is an instant celebrity who immediately gets a cult worshiping the planks he walks on because they all work for his rich undead infernal dad.

The issue is that people keep mapping it to the real world and seeing "tragic backstory" like it would be IRL, which is a mistake. It's not a disability. They don't go to normal school to become accountants or NASA engineers, they are there to be doing exactly that shit that their backstories rope them into. Like, this isn't Buffy, they aren't saving the world incidentally, this is school for saving the world to pursue a career in saving the world. Spyre functions so differently from IRL that everyone is dramatically failing to comprehend the actual situation everyone is in.

And the thing about hating affirmative action is that it presumes someone only got into whatever not because they have skill, but because of their race or something like that. That's manifestly different from what's going on here. Kipperlilly has no doubt the Bad Kids are incredibly powerful and skilled - but their backstories gave them opportunities to use that power and skill that no one else will ever have regardless of effort or even luck. The Bad Kids can't go five seconds without tripping over the revelation that the BBEG for the year is one of their second cousins. That just doesn't happen to other people, period. The world revolves around the BK's in ways it will never revolve around anyone else so the Bad Kids will always get the massive adventures to save the world and be the top of their class because they're personally connected to the narrative.

Remember, Brennan has confirmed that other AA students do not do shit like that. They do exactly the sort of missions you'd expect them to - go in dungeon, fight monsters, come back. It's not "uh, the Rat Grinders should have just gone out and saved the world too", that's not how it works. AA students are not usually expected to, their rat grinding is just a more tedious and efficient version of what they would be doing otherwise. The BK's don't get involved with these plots simply because they're the most heroic heroes ever who seek wrongs to right, they do it because every single time everyone but Gorgug (who is for the most part absent major narrative stakes) was born someone that would get those in's, feats reproducible by no one else.

"Ah, but the Seven-"

The Seven prove the tragedy of it. Because Kipperlilly is right, but she's also wrong. The brilliance of BLeeM this season is that he's crafted a narrative inseparable from the meta of how the game works. In a very real way this is like the Dungeons & Dragons versions of Tron. The fact that it's a series of fictional TTRPG sessions is essential to the universe and it's story, in a Twin Peaks-ian way.

Because, see, it's not actually, technically magical trauma that gives out those narrative advantages. Magical trauma is just the most obviously visible side-effect. What the issue actually is is that, as everyone has noted over and over again, the Rat Grinders are NPCs, and it is therefore impossible for the world to ever bend itself around them the way it does for the PCs. Except, most are just saying that as a funny haha joke.

No, like, literally, that's the issue. They will always be in the shadow of the handful of people that the people constructing their world, their timeline, their very existence, has decided matter. They are doomed by narrative causality to be "boring". And I'm going to take a moment to say here, isn't it crazy no one is talking about this when we just got done with Neverafter which was all about this exact thing????? Like, literally the BBEG was the Authors. That is the situation here, more or less.

Anyway, there will never be a demon attacking that due to a curse is only vulnerable to hot licks from Ruben's guitar passed down from the first gnomish rocker. Mary Ann will never be the prophesized liberator of kobolds enslaved in dragon dens. Ivy will never find out her father was secretly a super-soldier for the Council of Chosen who before he was assassinated left her notes detailing a sinister plot within the government of Solace.

People keep having a hard time with this because it intuitively doesn't feel right to ever classify something like losing a father in any context to have some kind of bright side. But if you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this: Adventuring as it's done in Spyre is not something done in the real world. Adventuring is something everyone chose to go to AA to learn and put into practice as their long-term career. And in that, absolutely these things give the PCs a completely one hundred percent insurmountable leg-up on the thing they're all in competition for.

And it being completely insurmountable in that way further goes to show the difference between hating that situation and hating affirmative action. Even AA is not a guarantee that a specific member of the majority will lose out on something and a specific member of the minority will get it instead. As soon as the character sheets were rolled everyone else at Aguefort may as well have just gone home and started studying to be accountants because the main characters had been chosen. Or they could keep going and hope they get a spin-off, I guess.

But Kipperlilly does keep trying, for she doesn't really comprehend the true eldritch horror beyond her existence shackled to the bits of a bunch of comedians, and her solution is to adjust for those unfair advantages.

Which is affirmative action.

How is that not obvious.

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Thank @feral-ferrule for reminding me of this little aside. Now ya'll gotta deal with it.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Dosing the Batch Boys: (Glitterstim)

In Disgrace (ch3) Crosshair and Tah'nyem are dosed with Glitterstim, a psychoactive variant of spice made by the spiders that live in the caves of Kessel. It lets you read minds...This results in their minds slamming together in new an confusing ways, which is fun for their chapter but it even occurs to them that it might be even funner in bed, let's explore that a little.

Though glitterstim is canon it's underutilized and definitely not utilized the way that I do, so this is very HC based. We're also going to assume that the drug doesn't affect the health of the boys in anyway. (Echo, sweetie I worry about you other wise.)

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hunter-

I think what would get Hunter off the most about being in your brain is the complete confirmation that all of your praise is genuine. All the boys might be surprised at just how attracted clonethirst girlies are to them but Hunter is particularly susceptible to the flattery of it. Ego boosted, the next aspect he would utilize is the direct feedback for how pleasurable his actions were. You'd probably not get to actively participate as much because he would get wrapped up in feeling what heights he could drive you to.

Wrecker-*let me in meme goes here*

What is going on in there? I can only imagine Wrecker's brain being a kind of messy place, sparks flying back and forth, complex equations drawn in crayon... What would be hot about it is just how overwhelmed with his emotions you would get. With practice he might be able to hold back but without it your brain is getting flooded. Joy, exuberance, and of course the sexual pleasure on a feedback loop. Actually, don't do this with Wrecker, you two are gonna fry.

Echo-

You'd have to ease Echo into this, he'd feel a little self conscious that you might feel any discomfort his implants and prosthetics might cause him, and you would, but having that open map would guide you to new ways to comfort him and make him feel good. He'd also find himself enjoying a type of relief basking in your mind. Like Hunter, he'd be enamored with feeling what he does to you and would try to heighten your experience more than focusing on himself.

Crosshair-

Cross isn't a selfish lover, but unlike Hunter and Echo he's very of the mindset that pleasure is a two way street. He'd more than likely take advantage of the connection by doing things that are mutually beneficial and might yield crazy results via feedback a la 69ing. More closed off and focused, Crosshair would have more control over holding your mind on task, easily keeping you away from parts of him he wouldn't want you to see.

Tech-

Where do I start?

Absolute dog shit at staying on task, once you let this little gremlin loose in your brain he'll start to rip you apart like an engine. Good luck keeping him out of your deepest darkest secrets, your half forgotten ruminations, dreams, and whatever other threads he gets his hands on. Not like it'd be much better, but you can also step into the whirring whirlwind resting in his brain pan. A single calculated thought releases so much mental energy you're floored immediately. There's not even sex yet, and since you'd be a helpless kitten of an rc car hooked up to the power of a jet engine you might as well let him run wild kriffing you within full efficiency.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Not that it moves the plot much besides being way too comfortable with each other too quickly, there are lasting effects of the Glitterstim on CrossXTahny.

She never gets a clean slate with the rest of the Batch Boys since she was exposed quite strongly to Crosshair's opinions of them. His opinions of them directly after Kamino. Yeah.

Also more of a fun fact, in case of alternative dimension shenanigans, Tahny would always be able to pick her Crosshair out of a line up. Even if it's between other Crosshair's that had Glitterstim experiences with other Tah'nyems.

Kids got little tan lines in the shape of each other burned into their brains.

[nancynancydrewdrewdrew]

Noisette is Bad at Making Treasure Hunts

I'm really not sure if Noisette actually wanted anyone to find her treasure, or if she still harbored a ton of resentment and fear towards the city and wanted to clear her conscious before death by making it appear that she had done the work to ensure it would be found without actually making it possible for someone to do so. If she really wanted the stained glass to be returned, she could have just written in her will "the stained glass is in xyz, please give it back the following places:"

Instead, if her goal really was to have someone find the hidden stained glass after she died (as she states in the game in her final letter) she was bad at following through on her goals. The fact that Nancy was able to do so is due to so many contrived coincidences that would completely make it impossible for her treasure to be found in the real world. To find her treasure you need:

a) access to her moulin. This is in IMO her stupidest move in the whole game, she was director of public works (or something like that) and instead of trusting the moulin to the city when she died she did nothing and let it go to auction to a private buyer. Literally the only person in the entire game who gives a shit about her and the treasure (Lynn Manrique) can't do anything to find it bc Noisette didn't ensure that the treasure would be accessible to the public

okay, so maybe she intended for whoever purchased the moulin to find her treasure. Nope! because...

(Okay, I have a lot of thoughts here and this ended up being really long so the rest is under the cut!)

b) you would also need access to another completely private residence, Hans's old apartment. Nancy is lucky that Dieter still lives there and he works in the fashion industry, which coincidentally the owner of the moulin is in. But what are the odds of that?? Also, it states in the game that Hans went to Germany after the war and never returned to Paris. So did he just hang on to an empty apartment that whole time or did Dieter randomly end up in the same apartment as his grandpa? Paris was fine with a German soldier occupying an apartment during the war and never wanted to re-allocate it afterwards?

okay, so there's someone that has access to the moulin and Hans's apartment, they can find the treasure, right? Nope!

c) you need a very specific mechanic key to open the panel in the apartment wall. A key that for some reason only Hans had? She never spoke to him again after the war, so I'm assuming in order to hide her diary afterwards she had her own key, but that's not a part of the treasure hunt or clues at all. Nancy got Hans's key out of pure coincidence, so how was someone else supposed to open the panel? okay, someone living there managed to open the panel, maybe some construction workers discovered it during renovations. So can they find the treasure? No! d) The panel is locked, and you need to 1. know that the hazelnut symbol refers to Noisette and 2. know her life story to the point that you'd know her life fell to shit in 1945. if you weren't connected to the mystery, good luck!

So you made it in the panel, you have her diary, and you have the paper with the eyes. That doesn't help at all unless you...

e) know what Noisette's last words were! If that was an important clue, why not write it down somewhere??

also...

f) YOU NEED A FRENCH RESISTANCE WWII DECODER. Noisette was said to have died recently when the game came out in 2006. You're telling me that in the sixty years between the end of the war and her death she never once noticed that no one has one of those just lying around? She couldn't have changed that step or at least hidden "ma cherie" in one of the lock boxes? In the game we get incredibly lucky that we just randomly stumble on one, and even in that case it's known to be so rare that we need to jump through hoops to get it.

That's all well and good, but there's more! g) you need to be able bodied enough to use ladders, swim through tunnels, and more. And you also have to be willing to break the law and go into restricted areas of the catacombs, AND swim through flooded areas?? of the catacombs?? where they have dead bodies?? who would do that?? h) once you do that, you need to have a working knowledge of the metro system, otherwise you need to go back and do it all twice. And that's assuming that there are no line changes or renames in the time between making the puzzle and someone finding it! You also have to hope that no one has made any changes to the art in the park in that timeframe

Okay it took a while but you found the treasure!!

I) Now you're locked in so you better hope you know how to use the code she likes to get out, otherwise you're stuck there forever and you're dead. If you didn't pick up a random code book while visiting the park, sorry!

This ended up quite long, but my overall point is that it would be completely asinine to assume anyone would be able to discover the treasure. Even Nancy finding it was contingent on a ton of random coincidences and deus ex machinas that would be unreplicable in the real world. I love the puzzles and the vibes of this game but the I hate the plot and after writing this I'm realizing how much I really hate Noisette as a person lol

[instarsandcrime]

I was wondering, do you have any Alastor head canons? They can be about whatever you'd like to say

Oh dear, that's an interesting question! He's one of the characters that I tend to write at my slowest because honestly, like everyone else, I have no idea what his deal is. But I'll do my best for both snz and otherwise!

Not snz:

To me, he's a fellow anemic. He needs to recover his strength with food after he goes a bit overboard with his powers or transforms into something larger and more eldritch.

As a small addition to the previous headcanon, his go-to food for recovery is his mother's jambalaya rather than the regular venison or otherwise. I know that's a bit of a well-used one, but it's well-used for a reason!

Before episode 5 Alastor most likely still visited swing clubs with Mimzy. I can definitely imagine them tearing up the dance floor together, even after death!

I can also imagine Alastor on regular dinner dates and tea times with Rosie for gossip sessions.

I genuinely do believe in the 'Lilith deal' theory, and that his order is to protect the hotel. However, he's also trying to worm his way out of the deal with the hotel as well.

He refuses to use a cellphone at all times. He would rather suffer a double death. So if there's ever a worst case scenario where he does need to communicate via text, he would probably dictate the message to Niffty. The results tend to vary.

He has a radio in almost every room for security, safety, and communication purposes.

He has a strong alcohol tolerance, considering the 1930's and its speakeasy days. He'd probably be the second or third to last in the hotel to lose to a drinking contest.

The most crack headcanon that I have in regards to Alastor being aroace: Before he fucked off for seven years, Vox tried to ask him out, but Alastor didn't pick up on the cues at all and thought that it was a deal to join the Vees instead. That leaves everyone who asks with the impression that Vox was pissy over asking Alastor to join his team instead of, you know, a date. And the worst part is that Vox can't say shit about what really happened either, because who would just admit that????

He has a deer's tail because I say so, actually.

Snz:

Another obvious one, but he's a germaphobe. 100%.

He's not much of a caretaker unless he really likes the person. Charlie, Niffty, and Rosie are good examples!

When they're asleep he'll sneak in a Creole pet name for luck, as long as no one else is around to hear it.

He has bad bedside manners for anyone he doesn't have much of an opinion on-- or worst case scenario, anyone he hates.

With Lucifer he pulls out all the stops. However, he does align with the fact that he cares about Lucifer recovering-- but only because it would be boring without the regular brand of chaos that he brings.

Connected to the 'Alastor has radios set up around the hotel' headcanon: He has a playlist of over 1,000 songs specifically titled 'Songs Lucifer Hates', and puts each one on full blast until Lucifer caves and takes his medication or goes back to bed.

Yes, this torture method can easily follow him out of Lucifer's room and to any radio in the hotel.

No, Lucifer does not last past four or five songs, and that disappoints Alastor every time.

Alastor does not get sick often, but when he does he gets hit hard.

His sneezing usually comes in doubles or triples, and they tend to be on the more intense side.

They're hard to hold back, so he normally stifles to stay quiet-- unless the room wants to listen to screeching feedback and loud outbursts.

He is a handkerchief user, and carries them wherever he goes. For people very close to him, he will let them keep one.

I'm a sucker for a magic user's loss of control with their powers-- I can see Alastor's emotions get outed by his shadow, or his tentacles shoot out at random intervals.

He gets feverish easily, complete with fever dreams, and tends to mumble about them in his sleep.

[sourpatchys]

Chapter One: It Begins

Time: Quarry

Rating: PG, nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Two souls connected by fate and severed by ignorance. However, with the world changing and medication fading, they will have no choice but to face the truth. Female reader!

A/N: This chapter is much shorter than the ones in the future will be— I wanted to get some solid ground to stand on, and I feel like I did that here!

—

The topic of soulmates wasn't one for the weak of heart. It wasn't a rare occurrence, but it wasn't common by any means— it fell in a middle ground of the unknown. scientists and doctors alike took the concept at face value, never batting an eye to the phenomenon that plagued so many people.

It was a topic that most of the world viewed as taboo. And you, by a stretch of bad luck, became part of the equation.

At 16 years old— your dreams took the form of memories— only they weren't yours to remember.

Sometimes, they were fun, with laughter and warmth— and other times you swore you felt blood pouring down your spine as a sick, cold, darkness consumed you. The pain in these dreams almost felt real, and as you woke you swore there would be markings— yet there never were.

You never dared to tell anyone. The few people you'd seen who openly had soulmates weren't exactly socially accepted, they were "claimed", and no one wanted to be near them.

"Freaks of nature" is what your father called them— and by extension— what he had unknowingly called you.

At 18, you finally told your doctor. Now without the threat of your parents and peers finding out, you felt safe enough to get prescribed a "dream repellent". One used to keep up social norms, to ignore the soulmate bond all together.

Sometimes you really wish you had told someone close to you— maybe then you could've found your other half, maybe you wouldn't have needed the pills at all.

Even as someone with soul bond— you knew next to nothing about it. You chose to live in ignorance. You didn't want to think of the life you may have had, the life chosen for you.

It had been years since your last dream. Years since you heard the muffled cries of the person you were supposed to love.

And now, with no medication available, you have no choice but to face them. Potentially for the rest of your life.

You knew they were still alive somewhere, even with your limited knowledge on the subject, one thing was certain— when a soulmate dies, the other is always quick to follow.

It had been at least two months since the outbreak— and if your soulmate had died, you definitely wouldn't be alive and kicking as you were.

You were lucky enough to have found a group of survivors. Georgia was not your usual playing ground, and you were almost sure the world would've taken you with it, if it hadn't been for the kindness of Lori and the others.

Your dreams, for better or worse, hadn't started back up again, quite honestly you were hoping they never would. Even without the societal norm hanging over your head— you were afraid.

You had never felt love, or lust— not even the pull of attraction towards a childhood crush. You were, by all means, taken for, by someone you had never met.

You were sure, feeling all of those things for the first time in your adult life— would kill you.

The group you were staying with were kind people, you never went a day without food or water and Shane, the self appointed leader of the group, never shot you down if you wanted to learn a new skill. Dale, who you had jokingly deemed the groups father figure, never bat an eye when you talked to him about silly things. They were truly a found family, one you could call your own.

There were a couple people, namely, Ed, Merle and Daryl, that you avoided. They didn't seem to care for the groups makeshift family dynamic, and you weren't about to try and convince them otherwise.

Geeks you could handle, when shit hit the fan you had taken out more than just a few, but people were another thing entirely.

Even before the fall, public places always kept you on your toes, you never knew what someone else was capable of or what they were thinking. So you bid your time by playing with the children, helping Carl with the homework his mom had given him that day, and folding laundry with Carol.

Overall, it was a pretty sweet gig— given the circumstances.

That didn't mean it was flowers and rainbows all the time though, fights tended to break out more often than not recently.

"I'm tellin' you right now, if you don't get me on that run I'm takin' my brother and we're getting the fuck out of here!" Merle screamed, marching his way up to Shane as he threw his arms around in a rage.

"You know, without you and your brother we're down two fighters and a hunter— we need you here, not out there."

"Oh is that so?" Merle backed up, moving himself mockingly as he continued "You'll let a carpet muncher and a scrawny Chinese kid go, but not one'a yer' fighters? Is that it?"

Shane rubbed at his face with his hands, clearly trying to find a way to step away from the conversation entirely.

"Listen man— you can go, but if yer' goin' then Daryl's gotta take all the hunting on, he's gonna be out there, by himself, for at least a full 24 hours— are you willin'ta risk that?"

Merle sneered and started to laugh, raising his arms out to his sides in victory.

"My little brother can handle himself bossman, it ain't no hair off my back if he's by himself."

Contrary to Merles words, Daryl wasn't too keen on the idea once he was clued in. He didn't hate going by himself, it was a lot easier to stay quiet and track without someone in your ear, but the fact he was used as a bargaining chip got under his skin more than he expected.

"You can't just say stuff like that man. I wasn't even there."

The sun had set by this point, its last shining rays slowly disappearing under the horizon, the soft glow from the campfire taking its place.

"Oh, common' its no biggie, I get out and get my stash, and you get to stay here and play fairys in the woods. Sounds like a good deal to me, little brother."

Daryl kept his eyes casted to the ground, keeping his hands busy by sharpening his knife on a river rock he had found earlier in the day. Sometimes Merle got to him more than he'd like to admit, at times he just gave up, not willing to start something he wasn't prepared to finish.

The elder sat up straight, a gleam of mischief shining in his eyes as he took in his brothers demeanor.

"You're gettin' those dreams again, ain't you little brother?"

The dreams.

They had stopped years ago, everyone he told thought he was crazy. For a while, hyped up on whatever substances he could get his hands on, he believed he truly was immortal, that the world had made a sick mistake.

Soulmate connections aren't supposed to just stop, not unless there aren't any memories left to give, and yet he was still alive and well. And if they did stop— they definitely weren't supposed to start again.

"Nah, they haven't."

Merle stood, clapping his hand on Daryl's shoulder as he walked himself over to their shared tent, seemingly content with the lackluster conversation they managed to have.

"Good thing, I don't want you gettin' all emotional before we get ourselves outta here, I don't need you bailing on me over some pansy that might not even be alive."

Merle sure knew how to get under Daryl's skin. The fact that his soul bond could be a geek had never even crossed his mind until now. The level of uncertainty creeping up his spine was just enough to drive him mad.

—

The next morning was mostly uneventful, your chores stayed the same as any other day, Daryl went off to find some game, and Glenn's group headed out to Atlanta for supplies.

The only major difference was the amount of people who had left, leaving a much quieter overtone settled over the quarry.

The silence was almost unnerving, the children weren't playing, the loudest person in camp was gone, and Dale wasn't telling his usual stories, too worried about Andrea.

As the day carried on, you found yourself floating between tasks, a looming sense of anxiety holding itself over your head. You weren't entirely sure why— there was plenty to be anxious about—  but it wasn't a feeling caused by anything you could see or hear, it was a sharp feeling, as if ants were crawling under your skin.

Up until this point, you had almost prided yourself in your ability to keep your composure, you had you moments of terror, you'd screamed and cried, but if nothing was happening in the moment, it was easy for you to ignore it all together. Today— you couldn't ignore it.

Snapping you out of your dazed state, you heard a screaming car alarm ripping through the mountains.

"What is that?!" You called, fidgeting where you stood, your heart beating a million miles per hour. Something was seriously wrong with you.

And then you saw it— a bright red car hurdling through the mountains.

Something inside you knew— they had finally come back.

Next chapter

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 8

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: HiMERU, Jun

Proofreading: Remi + 310mc (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: Peace & hyenahunt

Jun: 'Course, if you were to think of me as a friend... then I'd obviously be happy about it.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

HiMERU: Hm... So he speaks like that, does he?

— Well then, I wanted to ask you a few questions.

Jun: Ah, uh... Sure, but why’re you getting all formal with me…?

HiMERU: — One moment. Allow me to search my memory.

You are Jun Sazanami, correct?

Jun: Seriously? You know this shit, so why're you acting like we're meeting for the first time? Tryna act like you're beyond even remembering my name again?

That's pretty nasty of you. To an idol, getting your name forgotten is something worse than death... That's what my shitty old man says all the time.

Well, not that you could even call me an idol, the way I am now.

HiMERU: Mm. Considering your attitude... Are you perhaps a friend of HiMERU's?

Jun: A friend... isn't quite how I'd put it, nah. We're not strangers, either, but I don't think you could really call us friends...

Jun: 'Course, if you were to think of me as a friend... then I'd obviously be happy about it.

HiMERU: Is that so? Nonetheless, it seems as if you do have some connection to him. I suppose this is what they call a stroke of good luck.

Do you know what HiMERU is doing at this very moment?

Jun: 'Scuse me...? What're you going on about? "What he's doing" — well, you're right here talking to me, yeah? What kinda riddle is this?

HiMERU: Hm... Allow me to rephrase the question. Have you heard what HiMERU is scheduled to do today?

Jun: Why're you asking me that? As if I'd know what your schedule is, man.

You're weird as ever, huh?

HiMERU: — Yes. HiMERU is a rather interesting existence.

Jun: Seriously, why do you keep talking like you’re someone else?

... but um, either today or tomorrow, Kazehaya-senpai's planning on standing upon a newly set-up stage within the school.

And you said something 'bout wanting to perform on it too, didn'tcha?

You'd been practicing hard every day lately so you could make the most of such an opportunity if it ever happened, right?

Looks like you're real busy, going all out to the point you've even been skipping class for it.

HiMERU: — Yes. And without our permission, as well. That is what I don't understand.

HiMERU has always been obedient, and never once has he gone against our instruction. Recently, however, it seems as if he's been moving about beneath our nose.

It's rather strange... There are a large number of discrepancies between the reports he's given us and the truth, which is certainly suspicious.

That is why I have taken the time to come here, so that I could meet HiMERU in person and ascertain the truth.

... Just once, I'd like to see HiMERU on stage for myself.

Jun: What the hell are you going on about? You alright? Worn yourself out a lil' too much?

Well, not that I hate that part about you. You may look like a flawless idol and all on the outside, but you're kinda a mess on the inside.

HiMERU: — HiMERU is not only flawless in appearance, but as a whole, isn't he?

Jun: Yeah, yeah. That's what you always say, but it's all just lip service.

You may have the reputation of thriving as Reimei's top idol these days, but I heard that the truth is you're just constantly making mistakes.

Doing stuff like forgetting the names of your colleagues, or messing up with your song and dance...

HiMERU: ...?

Jun: All the higher-ups sweep 'em under the table since they don't want Reimei's name to take a hit, though. The Non-Specials often make fun of you, y'know? They say you're pretty awful.

HiMERU: ......

Jun: But I mean, I'm pretty jealous that you get to even just stand on a stage, HiMERU. You might kinda suck as an idol right now, but with enough experience, who knows, you may become a real one eventually —

Well, just keep doing your best and don't give up. I sure hope you don't end up hitting rock-bottom like me again.

As for me, I'm cheering you on. You may be hard to get a handle on sometimes, but anyone can tell you're real serious 'bout it all.

HiMERU: What are you talking about?

Jun: What?

HiMERU: HiMERU is considered flawless and as the Top Idol by all, isn't he?

Jun: Like I said, that's only what you keep insisting, yeah? You suck ass as an idol, so God knows where you got your oddly high confidence from, man.

Are ya getting carried away with how much people call you a top idol? Or maybe not — you've been this way from the very first time I met you.

HiMERU: That can't be... No, perhaps—

— Jun Sazanami. Thank you for the information, but I must be going — I must ascertain the truth of the matter immediately.

Jun: Sure... Well, what the hell was that all about?

Jun: Haha. Honestly, from our very first meeting all the way 'til now, you've always been completely incomprehensible, huh?

...Everything else in Reimei just keeps changing for the worse, but knowing that at least one thing's constant here helps to keep me going.

[ ☆ ]

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[mamamittens]

How to (try to) escape a yandere in One Piece

Okay, so an old ask keeps popping up in my head so I might as well address it semi formally and out loud, yeah?

The problem with One Piece characters as yanderes is that the world is so batshit nearly every character could canonically be yandere as it stands. And you'd be fucked several times over a majority of the time.

Safest yanderes to escape from?

Your average civilians with little to no 'bigger' friends. I'm talking folks like Makino. Maybe they know someone that would be willing to help but the distance and relative difficulty getting a hold of them gives you an amazing headstart and without a lot of evidence you can safely assume you're getting away baring terrible luck. Average fishmen and mermaids, as well as minks or any other more exotic species counts here too with the added benefit that they can't afford to travel in certain areas without being sold as slaves (as terrible as it is).

Tricky but maybe not impossible?

Average marine and pirate. Your small fry background characters not imbued with special abilities or strong devil fruit powers. They could get a leg up by allying themselves with a stronger marine/pirate just sadistic/amused enough to entertain their crush to track you down but it's unlikely they'll put all their resources into it. Marines could put a bounty on your head, Which makes things more difficult, but unless they can get enough sway they're basically just getting you arrested and locked away out of their reach. Which if you ran away you probably won't see too much of a problem with. More well connected members of other species are also here as long as they're small fry that can't quite overpower more... Greedy interests.

Yikes my guy, I think you might be screwed here.

Smaller pirate crews/captains with a good amount of heft to their name but not really warlord or yonko status. As well as Marines under more unhinged superior officers that like them or can be convinced how important it is you're 'rescued'. Like, Coby or the Hearts pirates before they allied with Luffy and co. There are still options, they're probably busy with more pressing matters than the apple of one of their member's eyes (though the captain is another question) so you can probably get a good distance away. With enough dedication you might even succeed at disguising yourself forever. World's a big place but... If they spot you once it's unlikely you'll get the chance to run away again. So uh... Make it count yeah?

RIP to you, the clock is ticking and I hope brief freedom was worth it.

Uh, about any of the big pirate crews and I'd say warlords, admirals and up, as well as yonkos go here. This includes the Strawhats but double cause they're tenacious and very willing to help each other out with a lot of friends to help do it. While not... Strictly impossible to get away or even necessarily impossible to stay 'gone' you're going to need some big strings to pull it off. I'm talking fade away to obscurity on a random island in bum-fuck-nowhere-(insert random blue here) kinda gone. And travel in OP in a right bitch so you better be quick and determined. Or at least faster than your yanderes' fastest friend. Certainly don't run to known friends, unknown allies, or any family no matter how removed.

Possible escape routes? Deep and secretly with rival crews/organizations and hope they don't learn about it cause they won't give a shit about wrecking hell to get to you then. Amazon Lily if you're a woman and hope it doesn't get out cause unless Boa Hancock is also yandere for you, she likely won't risk her whole island your one person. And I wouldn't recommend it if your yandere is Luffy cause then you're either dead or just going right back to his side. If you're running from a marine, world noble, or celestial dragon the Revolutionary Army is a pretty good bet. Just hope tricky politics doesn't mean you get cut loose too (or an RA member gets a little too fond of you as well). Reverse if your yandere is part of the RA and hope they don't manage to track you down with their information network.

Are you sure you actually got away or is this just a game of cat and mouse for them?

If the yandere is strong and capable of independent travel under their own power they probably go here. Jinbe, Marco, Ace, (a few others with powers or devil fruits that make traversing the seas alone not only possible but a breeze) and probably highest ranking Marines. Even without using allies and friends your odds are getting dicey. How you escaped is a miracle and unlikely to happen twice. I'm not even sure you actually got away unnoticed to start with. This might be a 'game' to teach you how impossible it is to leave the yandere in question. The moment you're in danger (possibly just after it if they're sadistic) or exhausted and pathetic they'll sweep in and carry you back 'home'.

With an incredible amount of luck you could get away. But if they got this far in OP they're probably hella stubborn and determined. So even as the years go by, they won't forget you. But they'll sure as hell remember what you did. One wrong move... One bad stroke of luck... And that's it. If even a friend of a friend sees you and opens their mouth, you're liable to come back home to see them chilling in your living room scowling at the lackluster accommodations. They probably won't understand why you ran away.

But they'll certainly put in the work to make you understand why you never should have left.

The 'X' factor that may make it better or worse when you try and leave.

Naturally, depending on their temperament, they may take your leaving.... Better? A little? Delusional will convince themselves you were just so scared! You didn't understand! This of course adds a bit of desperation to their actions and may lead to more severe restrictions until you get it through your silly head that you're safer with them. It does mean that they won't check the more 'dangerous' escape routes first because there's no way you really know what you're doing... This train of thought won't last long though. More sadistic yanderes will relish the excuse for punishment--arguably its more important than ever that you disappear really well because retrieval won't be a gentle process. Level headed yanderes will likely think through your actions. Might even understand... But except for very rare circumstances, you're not likely to just be let go. They need you... Just like you need them (and you'll understand eventually that they're right).

One Piece is just the definition of 'the world feels a hell of a lot smaller when it counts'. The only real barriers are politics and the sea. So if they can bypass one or both your escape routes dwindle quickly. Lack of communication between islands only goes so far when there's a lot of movement between them. And a clever enough pirate can abuse the system to locate you faster than you think.

By all means you should strive for freedom but... It's better to be mindful about how far you'll need to go once you realize the situation you're in before acting recklessly. If you were caught once you can be caught again.

And if uh... You 'left' with something you better hope they didn't know about it beforehand. I don't see that going over well. Just... Add a little timer to your escape plan cause they probably had more eyes on you than you think.

[hymn-of-muse]

A Twin's Connection

[a twins connection]

another scp story i thought i would move over here, even though these scp's arent from any wiki it is inspired by an scp related game

A twin's connection...

Is stronger than you think...

"Specter 30, Your assignment is to track down Subjects SCP-37319 and SCP-37329. Upon discovery you are to incapacitate them. Your primary directive is to have them unconcious, not dead, and brought back to the nearest facility under the foundation's name. It is highly important you keep the two subjects SEPARATED at all times. Do not let them out of your sight if you can help it. Once you've located them, radio back and we'll have a team sent out to help you escort them. Under no circumstance are you ever to let them be within the same vicinity of each other once captured. Good Luck"

The mission details seemed fairly straightforward and simple, easy enough to understand. The file that came with the instructions held details of the two mention 'subjects'. A pair of twin children. If the subjects the foundation was after were just two kids you'd think this 'assignment' would be super easy and gone off without a hitch.

But the report and logs inside the case file of the mission held more details that clearly stated otherwise. These were no ordinary kids.

"Specter 30, log 3. I've tracked down subjects 37319 and 37329 and located the area they've been hiding in for the past few days now. I'm currently observing them and their surroundings before i make any moves, the safer option would be to catch them with their guard down and it seems like they've developed a bit of a routine for themselves. I'll return with more updates again soon."

"Specter 30, log 5. The following conversation is between the foundation agent, Specter 30, and a field communications operator from the foundation, codename Zion.

Specter 30: Zion, this is Specter 30. Do you read me?

Zion: Specter 30, this is Zion, I read you. What's the situation on your current assignment?

Specter 30: I've been observing the twin's routines for a bit now, just trying to find the right time to make a move...but these kids...they seem so...normal? Are we sure this is what we're after here? a couple of runaway kids?

Zion: Focus, Specter 30. These subjects are not normal kids, they are dangerous anomalies and your orders are to incapacitate them and keep an eye on them untill your backup escort team arrives. Do not let the subjects fool you nor should you let them out of your sight. Do you understand?

Specter 30: but they're just-

Zion: I repeat. Do you understand, Specter 30?

Specter 30: Understood, Zion.

Zion: Good. Now, you need to make your move now, you're on a time limit Specter 30.

Specter 30: Right. I'll contact you again either once I've captured them or something comes up. Specter 30 out."

It was clear a few logs were missing from the entire file, but the information on the logs that were still there was all i needed. They were a bit old, but the only reliable source i had.

"Specter 30, log 10. I managed to catch the subjects off guard both are out cold and tied up, if they wake up before the team gets here then- wait something wrong, one of them's missing. Shit."

"Specter 30, log 12. Brats. Thats all they are. Brats that like to play tricks. I lost connection with the foundation but managed to reconnect and get through to zion earlier. She's sending the team but i hope they get here before either one of these kids makes trouble again."

"Specter 30, log 15. I didnt...No i should have known it was in the mission's instructions to keep them apart. the team arrived and we got the twins into two separate vehicles. Just as we started leaving they...they cried out for each other. Damn they looked so genuinely scared and desperate to stick together...i couldnt find it in me-i though.. i thought separating them would just be cruel so...so i had them ride in one car together. Worst mistake of my life! those..those arent children. theyre monsters! the minute they touched hands when they were together... god i cant even find the words to describe it..."

"Specter 30, log 16. When those kids joined hands as we took off towards the foundation they had the...their faces changed drastically from a look of fear to a look of pure malice, but a look of malice with a plastered large...creepy smile. Thats when i knew i'd fucked everything up. i got warned over and over but i didnt listen. now im paying the consequence. the entire team is dead. its just me again. i dont know why they didnt kill me, maybe they like me? or maybe they like playing with me... damn it im sick of being these monster's toy! i dont care what the instructions say, i've already fucked up so theres no way the foundation still wants me but maybe i can still do some good. i'll track down those little shits and kill them just like they did my team. theyre too dangerous to just let them roam the world free...i feel like shit for learning this too late. i'm tracking down subject's 37319 and 37329 again, and this time im ending them."

The logs seemed to have ended here, and thats where the report picks things up. My guess is that the report was written by this Zion, since theyre the only other person to have worked on this.

"Mission 76 Report: Failure. Specter 30 failed to follow strict orders to track down and capture subjects scp-37319 and scp-37329. The entire escort team is proclaimed KIA with no survivors, all killed in the same fashion. Specter 30 attempted to complete his mission a second time, only with the intention to kill the subjects rather than bring them to the foundation as instructed. This attempt cost him his life, and the subjects, also known together as SCP-373.9, remains lose out in the world. The foundation has decided to shut down the project for scp-373.9's capture for the time being, with this being the 13th failed attempt. No further Information is known of this case."

That last part wasnt...exactly true. They did try again, and they know more than they let on. The foundation never stops hunting these scp's. The last guy they sent to capture 373.9 was called "specter 39"...or was it "45"?

No matter. Because they'll keep sending these specters. Unless they're stopped. Thats why my sister and i are here, researching. The best way to learn how to stop your enemy is to know them right?

What better way to learn about the foundation than to pay a visit? Maybe then they'll learn that a twin's connection is much stronger than it first seems.

reblogs are appreciated!

feel free to request more angst, fluff or whatever comes to mind!

be sure to check my pinned post!

[batmanrogues-scenarios]

Any rogues

Reaction to meeting nb reader

They're a protege/kid of a villain NJ and is basically the tech whiz of their family

Has a robot arm AND a robot assistant, they make all of their tech from scratch it's pretty impressive cause all of their tech is futuristic

If rouge needs help w finding someone who's deemed untraceable? Reader got their back cause despite being the tech whiz they're also a skilled hunter, good luck for whoever their finding cause they'll be horrifying when tracking someone (You'd think that they have something personal against the person but they're just really focused on getting the job done)

They're good with any weapons. Guns, sword, scythe, etc. Etc. it's kinda concerning tbh

Took one look at rogue and went, "You're my big sibling now. No refunds"

Can take down hordes of enemies without breaking a sweat but would internally panic if someone cried in their vicinity cause they don't know jack shit about comforting people

Has a no kill room for some reason BUT they'll have exceptions :)

They're kinda a vigilante, they take down villains but they'll also be alright if it's a hero they're not fond of

- smitten simp

Ok, I'm gonna choose different rogues for this since the concept is much different from our Magic Sib. Hope you enjoy it.

Riddler

Someone competent!

Would love to watch their robot walk around and analysis it

Would talk about it with Y/N and says they had a future ahead of them; still, need to learn though but he is here

He doesn't per say needs help with finding someone but if that person refuse to show up, he can ask them to get them out of the hidding-

Oh wow, they're more effective than he thought , especially with weapons; maybe he should have eyes on them

Ey, wait, waitwait! He never agreed to that you little shit!

Gets used to that but it's very bickering relationship

Just gives them a look whenever they panic, no it doesn't mean he would help

His suprised they don't kill, it goes against everything he knows about them

Not sure if he should hang out with person who wants to take him down but hey if they want to take Batman down he is willing to help

Mad Hatter

Oh okay! He thinks having a sibling is nice

Can spend so much time talking about technology, would love to compare theirs with his

Will paint their arm with Wonderland imagines

Really thankful for helping him catch people, it's hard sometimes it's like they hope threw rabbit holes

Would ask if they want axe from him

Stands up when there's emotional situation and tells Y/N how to act

Asks them to not hunt him down, please

Penguin

Not sure why they walk behind him like lost chick but they seem useful so why not

Is impressed by the kid, whenever he has someone to get to or some tech problem he goes to them

They grow on him, they connect through having a disability

Cannot help with social aspect, he's horrible with people

As long as they won't take him or his people down he's okay with them

[linguenuvolose]

hey! i really admire that you're going to live abroad - you're basically living my dream (though my dream is a different country than yours, but all the same.) i thought i'd ask a question that i'm not even sure you can answer, but i'll try anyway: i am close to a point where i could apply to jobs abroad, but it feels so daunting to untangle all the connections i have at home (not even friends and family, more like insurances, flat, job, all that stuff.) it all feels like such a permanent thing that would be really hard to undo or get back into, should i ever return. how do you manage that? do you have any advice for me?

hej! my job is a bit confusing but I'm actually not moving haha, I'm staying in Sweden so I don't know how much I can help you, sorry!

I wish I had an answer though because god I feel you. before finding this job I was very actively thinking of moving to Italy at the start of next year (I was also 100% convinced I'd do my masters in Italy but that happened to be in 2020 so I thought hmm maybe not). but yeah, the more I thought about it the more intimidating it felt. it's so easy to be like wow I want to move abroad! but then there are so many factors and you don't really know where to start.

even if I'm not moving now I still feel that it's something I really want to do within the next 5 years or so, the prospect of always living in this city is just feels wrong to me. so even if moving abroad "for real" scares me to death and feels daunting and huge I think I would regret it even more if I never went for it, I'd be consumed by the "what if" and I think that's motivation enough for me. your dreams are worth going after!! like, be responsible about it, maybe don't end your lease without further plans but I think you can do what you want and still be smart about it.

and like moving abroad is not all or nothing, you're allowed to try it out (maybe do a workaway kinda thing? maybe travel around for a bit if you have the money, rent out your current apartment if you're allowed to so you're not completely cut off from life "back home" if you decide to return). you're allowed to decide it's not for you and come home after 3 moths, or to love it and never come back to your home country again. (I do have to admit that this "we'll see" mentality is shit scary to me because I like knowing haha but I think it's healthy to just see where life takes you sometimes)

but yeah, concretely how to get there I'd suggest trying to find people who have done the same move, look at the website of your embassy in the country you want to go to etc. maybe make a little list of anything you can come up with that you'd have to do before moving and break it down to as small steps as possible. eating an elephant and all that, when you do get started figuring it out things will start falling into place

sorry for this little ramble idk if this is what you were looking for but if moving abroad is something you want to do I think the stress of the preparation will be worth it! I'm wishing you all the best of luck (and please let me know if you do end up going!!)

[iznsfw]

Speaking of threesome, I think a Joyuriz one would be fantastic for someone like me who is a fan...

Bias Wrecker

IZ*ONE's Jo Yuri x Kim Chaewon x Choi Yena & Male Reader

First off, I'd like to apologize to the anon who requested this. This was one of my first ever requests and I feel so sorry I haven't touched the draft in a while. Please know that I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, and that I always will appreciate your support.

First draft edited by @worldsover ! Thanks to @brokennightmares01 for helping me continue this and beta reading!

"I won! I won! Holy shit, this is the best day of my entire life!"

You swear that you could break the floor of your apartment because of how roughly you're jumping up and down. Hell, you could feel the floor shake just by your leaps of joy, and if they were any louder, your yells of "I won! I won! I won!" could crack the windows just like that.

You have woken up to find out that you have become the luckiest man in the entire world.

There, on the bright laptop screen, is one golden e-mail from Off the Record Entertainment, the subject line being "Congratulations! You have won a fancall with…"

You've just won a video call with your favorite K-Pop idols: Jo Yuri, Kim Chaewon, and Choi Yena.

You open the e-mail, still not believing how you could have possibly been chosen to win it. Maybe it's a scam? Some cruel joke by an internet troll?

But no, it was sent from Off the Record entertainment (verified check mark beside it), written in Korean and English. You read the e-mail word for word:

"Congratulations, Wiz*One!

You have won a video call with IZ*ONE's newest subunit: Joyuriz! Jo Yuri, Kim Chaewon, and Choi Yena all thank you for your constant support towards them.

Please prepare a working device (cellphone, laptop, desktop etc.) with strong Wi-Fi connection on April 29th 20** at 9:00 P.M. KST.

See you there!"

You read it again, just for good measure. Then a third time to ensure the email wouldn't just disappear from your screen like magic, and a fourth time to just think about your sheer luck.

You dance around in your apartment, screaming out celebratory yelps without any thought of your neighbors. You simply couldn't wait to see your favorite idols. You just couldn't wait.

----

Do you know the feeling of wishing for something so badly that whenever you pray for it, you promise all sorts of things?

"God, if I get this I'll never ask for anything ever again."

"The day I achieve that is the day I never complain again."

That's what you feel like. Except for everything you have prayed for has already been granted. You did not actually think you'd win; you had only hoped you would after purchasing a few albums for yourself and your friends. It was a good thing you did not set your expectations so high.

Your stomach is tight with excitement. You have already opened your laptop in your living room, black earphones and a charger plugged into it. Having logged into the site recommended, it is only any minute now that you finally get to call them.

You place a hand on your chest. Your heart pumps against your hand quickly like a drum being beaten. You hope that when you finally meet the threesome, they wouldn't hear your nervous and excited heart.

Okay… you got this.

Something flickers on your screen. You refocus your attention on it again, and find three almost identical girls grinning widely at you.

Oh my god, you think. This really is the best day of your life.

Jo Yuri sits in between Choi Yena and Kim Chaewon, beaming at you from the other side of the screen. You're glad you have good internet connection so you can see a high quality girl's smile in high quality.

You smile back at Yuri. This might be one of the few moments in life wherein you have smiled genuinely.

"Hello! Hello, Wiz*one!" Yena yells excitedly, waving at you. "What's your name?"

These girls are genuinely stunning, even when they are only wearing minimal makeup and white t-shirts. Chaewon has her dark blue hair down that brushes the blades of her shoulders. She has a cute cheeky smile while Yena has a mischievous one. Yuri is in the center, her own ash blonde hair in pigtails, sharing both of their features.

You state your name in stutters. Yena—or is that Yuri? Oh wait, Yuri is in the center—laughs at your nervousness playfully, and tells you to calm down a little. But how could you when all three women are drop-dead gorgeous?

"Ohh! Cute name!" Yuri enthusiastically shows you a thumbs-up.

Chaewon rolls her eyes at her."You're just saying anything."

"Be quiet, Chaewon! He's cute!"

The blood rushes to your cheeks. Jo Yuri—the Jo Yuri—has just called you cute. Another reason why this is the best day of your life.

Chaewon squints at you to see you better, then slowly smiles. "He is!" She places her cute face on her hands and props her elbows on her knees. "You're so cute, oppa. Or are you younger?"

"Older than Chaewon by a month."

"He's an oppa!" Chaewon declares victoriously. She pumps her fist in the air.

"Be proper, Chaewon!"

"I am being proper, Yuri—I mean, Yena." Even Chaewon can't tell them apart sometimes.

You laugh a little at the three adorable girls arguing back and forth. You've only seen their playful bickering in their variety shows, and now you're given the opportunity to actually share these moments with them. This is every man's dream, and you're living it.

You talk to them. You talk to them as if they were your actual friends, and you can see they enjoy having you do so. You compliment them on the great album, earning a smile from Yena; Yena was the one who produced all the songs in it. You talk about how the choreography is so fitting to each of the songs, and look very easy despite each being difficult, earning red cheeks from Yuri; she made the choreography for each song. You tell them how the album cover is one of the prettiest ones you've ever seen, earning a happy giggle from Chaewon; Chaewon participated in the graphic design for the album.

Three really talented women who are also jaw-droppingly beautiful. What more could you ask for?

A lot, it seems because—

"Can I ask you guys a question?" you interrupt them briefly.

"Anything!" they chorus. Their adoring faces scooch themselves closer to the camera.

"How do you do fanservice so well?"

That is actually a genuine question. Later, you would say you did not mean for it to lead to so many things at once. But it is a blessing to you anyway.

You have always wondered how weird it must be for managers to tell these women that they must kiss and queerbait for people to be interested with them. If it were any other job, it would be even weirder. Just imagine a Walmart manager telling two employees to make out for the customers in fruit aisle 2.

Very weird!

Thankfully, the girls give you a sincere and honest response.

"Welllll," Chaewon replies, tapping her chin. She looks deep in thought, as if the question has never occurrred to her before. She shrugs. "I actually don't know. What do you think, Yena?"

"I don't know. He asked you. Of course, since you're so pretty and soooo talented."

Yena's words drip of sarcasm and jealousy. Her arms cross themselves over her white shirt.

Chaewon tilts her head to the side like a puppy. "Wait, why are you upset?"

"Well, if you didn't stare at him like you wanted to suck his cock while his mother watched maybe I wouldn't be so upset, would I?"

The harsh words cut through the air like a knife, killing the giddy mood and leaving all of you deathly silent. You are as equally taken aback as Yuri and Chaewon, who stare at Yena with genuine shock written across their faces.

What the hell? you ask yourself. Are they… are they fighting over you?

Yena is a cheerful and cartoonish girl to anyone and everything. Even the fans know that. Why is she being so aggressive now?

Chaewon is the first to dare break the silence. She puts an end to it with a sarcastic little laugh of her own.

"Oh my god," she finally replies, slapping a hand to her mouth. She slides it back down her lap. "I can't believe you're jealous. You're jealous that oppa likes me best!"

Wait, what now?

"No, he doesn't," snaps Yena sharply.

"You see the way he looks at me! You like me best, oppa, don't you?"

You're confused. Why are they fighting over you like this?

But you must admit: three gorgeous girls fighting over you is kind of neat.

"Answer me!" Chaewon demands. Her foreignly harsh voice makes you scramble to an answer.

"I, I like all of you equally," you stammer as the situation escalates further.

"That's not an answer. Which one!"

"I'll—I'll have to go with you."

Chaewon bounces up and down triumphantly. You try not to look, but as she does, you can see her small boobs bounce along with her movements. "Ha! You see? Oppa likes me best!"

Yena smirks. "Nothing a little fanservice can change."

Before Chaewon could come up with a proper snarky response, Yena suddenly grabs Yuri's face and pulls her close. The younger woman squeals in surprise, but her eyes slowly shut as her duplicate seals the little distance between them with a kiss.

Wait, what the hell is happening?

Your eyes widen to the size of pizza pepperonis. Is this real? Or is this another one of your dreams that seem too good to be true?

Pinch your arm to be sure. Your nails create stinging marks on your reddening skin.

Oh my god, it's real.

Soon, soft moans and sighs are heard through your earphones. Your mind urges you to unplug your earphones and click the red "end call" button at the bottom of the screen, but your greedy eyes just keep looking at the scene unfolding in front of you. You couldn't stop staring as Yena's plump lips leave light pink kiss marks on Yuri's neck, and the latter's small hand slips underneath her unnie's shirt to get a good squeeze of the ample tits.

You keep asking yourself if this is a dream, but you know very well it isn't. Might as well make the most out of it.

Your hand trails down to your crotch. You palm the growing erection slowly, licking your lips as you watch Yena rid herself of her hiked up shorts and unbutton Yuri's as well.

Yena turns her sultry gaze to the camera and winks at you. "Do you see now how I do fanservice so well?" she asks.

You sigh. The throbbing of your dick restricted by your jeans is getting more urgent. "Definitely."

"So who do you like more now, oppa? Me or Chaewon?"

"Alright, that's enough!"

You are surprised that Chaewon is even there; you have been too focused on Yena and Yuri undressing and making out with each other that you have forgotten that Chaewon is there. Maybe the fanservice did work.

Chaewon joins the duo by quickly discarding her own shorts, throwing them somewhere in the room. Maybe in the corner? Or did she throw them on the cabinet? Wherever she threw them doesn't matter; what you are focused on is Chaewon crashing her lips with Yena's duck-like ones, freezing the rapper's movements. Though surprised, Yena quickly recovers by kissing back enthusiastically with her hands tangled in Chaewon's hair.

They make out as if they haven't just fought. Yena's caresses on Chaewon's blue hair almost seems loving. Chaewon's hand holding the other girl's waist rubs patterns on her hip to test the sensitivity in the area. Clearly not enough, so she switches her touch to Yena's thighs. Once she feels the sighs vibrate against her mouth, she knows she's gotten the reaction she's wanted.

"Mmph, unnie…" Yuri whines when she is left out of the love-making. The adorbale pout is definitely enough for the two older girls to give attention to her because the next whine that is heard from her is one out of pleasure.

Chaewon wraps her legs around Yuri and gently bucks her hips towards hers. Yuri gasps loudly, legs locked around Chaewon's hips as the main vocalist starts to dry hump her crotch with only her panties on. Although there is still the barriers of clothing holding them back from feeling the real thing, it makes her so undeniably wet. What also gets her so aroused is the way Chaewon's lips engage in a sultry making-out session with Yena, running her hands down Yena's sides and groping her butt.

Your breath is constantly hitched in your throat while your unblinking eyes stare at the threesome actually engaging in a threesome. You take a look at how soft Chaewon's thighs look now that the shorts don't cover them, and how they curl around Yuri's shapely hips so she could properly scissor her. Your ears take in the heavenly sound of Yuri's moans while your lips hunger for a taste of Yena's ducky lips the way Chaewon is able to have.

This is just like a wet dream come true.

"Oh... oh my god," sighs Chaewon. Yena's lips have stopped kissing her now and have switched to her milky neck. Chaewon's eyes would have rolled to the back of her head in pleasure if she didn't want to take a look at you first. And when she speaks, her voice is brittle: "O-Oppa, it feels so good..."

Those words will stay with you forever. Just with those hooded eyelids and the weakness of her voice, Chaewon has easily ranked up on your bias list.

"Fuck, unnie, I want to feel the real thing." Yuri makes sure to threaten Chaewon's position on the list when she needily bucks her hips higher. "Can I take off my shorts too?"

"Of course you can." Chaewon gives you a knowing look. Her eyes catch your erect cock standing in the air. She licks her lips. "Let's give oppa the best fanservice he's ever seen."

Chaewon pauses her scissoring for a moment to let Yuri take off her shorts. Once they slide off her leg, you are able to see the pretty white panties that Yena's fingers sneakily crawl on top of to rub at the flint clit. Yuri's voice cracks when she moans, her legs closing around Yena's hand so it can further stimulate her erogenous area.

"Hey, not so fast, Yuri-ya," Yena scolds, quickly pausing her movements. "You can't just make me do all the work."

"But unnie, I need it!"

"I'll only give you what you want if you eat me out well, okay?"

The needy Jo Yuri nods quickly. She's quivering from head to toe, willing to do anything just to feel the heat fire up her core again.

And so Yena plants her own core on Yuri's mouth. Yena quivers a little at the feeling of the subunit's youngest member licking at her center with her wet, pink tongue. Wiggling her ass back and forth into Yuri's face, Yena holds up her end of the bargain by rubbing Yuri's clit above her panties. Your earphones are invaded by the blended sound of Yuri's surprised moan and Yena's gasp of pleasure.

Chaewon then presses her own pussy in between Yuri's legs. The wetness is surprisingly abundant, shocking her for a moment, dripping on the floor and on her own pale skin. The slick wetness makes it easy for her to rub against it.

She sways her hips once, then twice. Just two movements makes her hungry for the addicting pleasure. She ups the pace of her movements, causing the heat to spread from her feet to her whole body.

"Oh fuck, Yuri-ya!" The hot feeling that Chaewon easily seeks out from rubbing her and Yuri's nubs together is enough to make her blush. Her legs tighten around Yuri's waist as she holds on to one of the vocalist's raised legs. "You're so fucking wet!"

Yuri whimpers helplessly as Chaewon begins to scissor her faster and Yena's hands start to tweak her nipples. She wants to squirm from the pleasure, but the weight of Chaewon's legs on her waist and Yena's pussy on her face keeps her pinned to the floor, essentially making her a little fuckdoll for her unnies to use.

Loud girlish moans combined with slick squishing corrupts your formerly virgin ears. Your eyes are wide in disbelief, almost as if they can't comprehend how a videocall led to your three biases having a three-way for you. It's almost like a wet dream no pinch can wake you from, or more similarly, a special video in the incognito "hub" you'll always try to find.

You start to jack yourself off. All the guilt leaves your mind for having wanted to fuck these girls—the way Chaewon's small breasts look perky in that white sleeveless undergarment now that she's taken off her shirt makes you want to join them in their threesome.

However, the screen that blocks you from each other makes it impossible. But they do their best to make it worth it.

Chaewon sways her hips in circles, angling Yuri's legs so she can take control over how she rubs their clits together. Messy juices stain their thighs because of how sensitive their nubs are, only to be stimulated further with scissoring. She can no longer articulate anything besides shameless cries no better than Yena can, whose voice she did not know can reach such heights.

Chaewon can see Yuri's tongue become a toy for Yena to ride, as Yena's hips rise and slam onto it for the delicious feeling of her tongue fucking her walls. With the technique of the wiggles and laps at the juices from the tight pussy, Chaewon is certain that they have definitely done this before.

"Yes, just like t-that, Yuri-ya!" Yena cries out. Her hands are placed on mentioned girl's throat for balance, making it difficult for Yuri to breathe properly. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum! I'm gonna—"

A shrill scream violates your eardrums. Yena's tits visibly bounce beneath her white t-shirt along with her ass that rises and falls on Yuri's mouth. Yuri puts her all into her unnie's orgasm by sealing her hands over her thighs and wildly licking and suckling, even when she can barely get enough air for her burning lungs.

Yena's body feels as if it was lit on fire. She tries to fight against Yuri's hands holding her legs back, but it proves to be anything but easy; Yuri is determined to wring out every drop of cum from her. And God knows how Yuri is once she sets her desides on something.

"Yuri, stop. It's too much. Yuri-ya, Yuri-ya!" When Yena finally struggles hard enough to push off the other girl's mouth from her, a stream of squirt flies into the air and lands on Yuri's face and chest like rain. She leans heavily against the wall of the room, shaking from head to toe due to the violent orgasm.

Meanwhile, Yuri is gasping as if she has been submerged in water for too long. She certainly looks like it; her face and chest are decorated with a certain type of fluid. Her eyes are wide open and so is her mouth, which tries to savor the air that had been so insignificant to her before.

The timer for the videocall starts to beep. You realize it has been beeping for the past fifteen minutes but you have failed to notice it. The three minutes total for a videocall had long been spent, but the girls decided to go against protocol to show you exactly how next level fanservice is performed.

Another thing you've paid no attention to is the shocking white liquid that coats your hand and pants. You realize that you came along with Yena, and possibly Yuri too—her hips are starting to shy away from Chaewon.

"Chaewon unnie, please," she whispers softly. "Too much."

"There's no such thing as 'too much'," Chaewon contradicts. She keeps steadily riding Yuri's pussy, selfishly seeking out the pleasure from her clit sliding against the same. "It was, hah, so fucking selfish of you to keep what you were doing with Yena a secret. To hide how good of a dongsaeng you can be."

Chaewon cannot believe what she has seen. Yuri is usually a brat. She always has something to complain about, may it be something taking too long or things refusing to go her way. But Chaewon saw how quick she was to obey what Yena wanted, how surprisingly obedient she became.

And she wants some of that for herself.

"Please, unnie, I'm sorry," says Yuri, hoping the tears that swim in her eyes would spark some pity inside Chaewon's lusting heart.

"Prove you're sorry. Fuck unnie with those fingers of yours."

Yuri is visibly relieved to have her used pussy and mouth get a break. She moves away from Chaewon, crossing her legs together in hopes to stop their trembling. After she lets Chaewon sit between her legs, she meekly slips her fingers inside her, immediately feeling the clamp of the vaginal walls on her fingers.

Yuri throws Yena a concerned glance. To her relief, Yena isn't passed out much. She's just taking time for the world to stop spinning; her hand is placed over her heart to assure herself that it is still beating while her shoulders rise and fall.

Should she be concerned? Yena trying to make sure that she is still alive isn't any better than the possible result of her passing out. Maybe she should—

"Oh, fuck, that's it, Yuri." Chaewon's sighs bring Yuri back to Earth. Chaewon closes her eyes and leans further into her chest. "Fuck, keep doing that, baby."

Face flushed, Yuri does as she's told. She maintains the moderate speed of thrusting, letting her fingertips nudge against Chaewon's walls to search for the G-spot. She finds it upon a rougher patch of skin, and just one rub against them renders an "Oh fuck, Yuri" from her.

She places a hand over Chaewon's sleeveless undershirt and raises it up to her chest. Beneath it is a white bra that she easily rips away to show you Chaewon's perky breasts, not too big but round, topped with small pink nipples. She squeezes one uncertainly, then continues to grope it after another one of Chaewon's lewd reactions.

You've only seen Chaewon's breasts from her more revealing outfits, and sneakily used photos of that to get off during the nighttime. But now that you are able to see their small fullness, you are certain that you are going to blow again.

And to think that before this, you have only imagined how Yuri's moans would sound like. Because of how smooth and silky her voice is, you've imagined how how they would sound, and are pleased to find out that they are exactly how you thought they were.

Those very moans start again when Yena sneaks from behind and hugs Yuri to herself, then places her fingers inside her. Yuri jerks in surprise, which results in Yena's fingers being driven deeper inside her.

The subunit looks a mess. Chaewon's legs are spread wide to accomodate Yuri, whose shoulder she is leaning against with hooded eyelids. Yuri has turned her head to engage in a lustful kiss with Yena who is behind her. Yena is steadily fucking Yuri with her fingers the same way the latter is with Chaewon. Their clothes and the demeanor they put up for their fans have disappeared altogether; now they are just three girls fucking each other, with their minds only thinking of how to pleasure the other with their lips and their fingers and their skin.

Chaewon's sweat has ruined her shirt. The helpful Yuri tears off the remaining fabric just in time for Chaewon's orgasm.

"Ah, Yuri-ya!" With the tight body of the second eldest of the subunit now fully nude, you are able to see her pretty pink pussy tensing around the digits that are pounding it. Yuri's jaw drops in bliss as Yena's fingers bring her to another orgasm.

With Chaewon shaking in between Yuri's legs and Yuri passed out in Yena's shoulder, your cock spurts another bout of cum. But now they land on the screen, making it look like you have actually ejaculated on their faces.

The downside is you might have broken the system of your laptop. You've lost your money buying albums so now you won't have cash for a new laptop, but it's all worth it in the end.

"So, oppa," Yena's weak voice manages to stutter out, as she looks directly into the camera, "who's your bias now?"

"All three of y—"

But then their image glitches into a rainbow of green and red and your screen fades to black.

Your frustration won't matter. Later, your signed albums would be delivered with a sneakily pasted note. And it would say:

"Just in case you want to have another fun time ;)

Call us: ****-*****-****

We love you forever, WIZ*ONE."

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Congratulations on the 5k!

May I request a “kisses for a cover” blurb with Bucky Barnes and Reader? Thank you 😊

God you hated running. This wasn't part of your job description. You were the guy in the chair. Running and shooting were for other people, but you didn't get nice things. They just had to have a closed network and you just had to hack into their serves in person. And of course the alarm was sounded just as you finished downloading the last of the information. Of course Sam had said it was best you split up pulling the goons chasing you in two different direction. Just your luck you'd find yourself alone with Bucky Barnes in the absolute worse case scenario. You were so scared for your life, you couldn't even take the opportunity to properly admire his ass as you ran a pace behind him.

"This way!" he ordered, reaching behind him to grab your hand and pull you down yet another alley way.

Your lungs were burning, but some how you managed to keep pace with the pull of your arm only mildly aching.

Bucky weaved you through the maze of endless houses and apartments until you came to an open market. To your relief he finally slowed his pace, forcing you both to flow with the crowd.

"Did we lose them?" you dared to ask.

Bucky kept his head movements to a minimum, but you got the impression his eyes were everywhere.

"I doubt it," he said. "We need a better vantage point."

Wordlessly, he moved the pair of you between a pair of stalls, allowing him a better view of the crowd without being obvious.

"Shit," he cursed.

"What?" On instinct your went to turn your head, only for Bucky's hand to catch your chin, pulling you back to him.

"Don't move," he whispered. And it was only then you realized just how close you were. Shit you must be distracted if standing chest to chest with Bucky hadn't even crossed your mind.

You kept your eyes on him, as his scanned and area just behind you. He then looked back down at you, his expression unreadable.

"Please don't slap me."

It was your only warning before his lips were pressed against yours.

Your hands moved to his shoulders with the instinct to push him away, put he only pulled your closer, one of his hands curling into your hair.

"Just go with it," he murmured, before he was kissing you once more.

You weren't sure if it was the fading adrenaline or just your hormones, either way resistance was futile. You kissed him back, letting your hands slide from his shoulders and around his neck. There was a solid chance you might die in the next few minutes. Might as well go out on a high note.

You honestly couldn't say how long you were standing there, but it was just enough to leave you dizzy as he finally pulled away.

"I think they're gone," he said, inspecting the area behind you before meeting your eyes. "You okay?"

It took a moment for the words to register and a moment longer for you to connect the dots on what had just happened. What resulted was a soft, but meaningful, "huh..."

His brows furrowed as his lips pressed into a confused line. "What?"

"Nothing I just..." You blinked, forcing yourself to recenter. "I always thought the whole kissing some one for cover was a cliche movies invented to up sexual tension."

"Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable," he said, as if that explained everything.

"I mean...sure, but was that the only thing you could think of?"

"It worked didn't it?"

You held your hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine. You're the expert."

He nodded in acknowledgement, leaving a long awkward pause in the air.

You bit your lip. "It was very nice by the way."

"Alright, you can drop it now."

He moved passed you, back towards the market, not even bothering to see if you would follow. You did, of course and just in time to see a slight blush on his cheeks and he marched forward.

Maybe you should get out in the field more.

(15/20)

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.