#harassing employees is NOT THE MOVE

[shegoesbyjoy]

“What do you make of the claims that Robert and Aleksander have made about Ilnar and Tõnas, and the sense that ZA/UM has been stolen from them?”

“In the beginning, when we became friends...to me, he was a god. I was very young, very influence-able. I sort of admired him to a degree where my own personality was eaten up.” – Argo Tuulik, Writer at ZA/UM (responsible for Cuno, The Hardie Boys, Evrart Claire, and more)

Bonus:

Investigation: Who’s Telling the Truth about Disco Elysium? by People Make Games

[unloneliest]

the problem of the matter is i did internalize so much of what ex friend believed about me. even though i knew he was wrong and knew what was happening and tried to stop it and if i took more action to stop it would have been abusing power i held in a way i couldn't live with myself for.

[miraphoenix]

re: this post, discord isn't a social media, but fuckers keep treating it like one by migrating all of their communities and posts to discord in the wake of each social media fuckup, so it kind of is one by usage at this point?

Like. Nine times out of ten, if you're looking for information on something, whatever you're looking for is locked in some fucking discord server.

If you want help with a game or a mod? "Oh, come join the discord!" You want some support or have questions about a medical condition? "Hey there's a discord for that!" You want to talk to somebody about a hobby? "There's a great discord community!"

All of these things used to be on forums that were accessible without siloing yourself into an instant messaging box full of people all talking at once, to search for the one nugget of information you actually need in the moment. It would be like if you wanted to get eggs at the grocery store, but to get that one thing, you had to naturalize as a citizen of a foreign country first.

And don't get me wrong; I have a discord account, and I use it to talk with friends. But I would rather eat my own shoes than join a "community" just to get some answers to a question that used to be posted visibly on reddit, tumblr, or fuck forbid, a topic-specific forum.

(To top it off, this doesn't even touch on my thoughts that discord, being a social tech company in 2023, is going to implode like all the other social tech companies because of increased monetization pressure. It's just a matter of time before they make dumb decisions like reddit, or get bought out like skype.)

[silverislander]

i've been thinking a lot recently abt how different my current job is to my first job and how much more i like it and why, and it really just comes down to like. basic humanity. at the hardware store, it was a really intense "time to lean time to clean" mentality, we weren't allowed to chat with the other cashiers even during slow days, we couldn't get caught reading/drawing/goofing off while on cash, we weren't even allowed to leave the corral. at the supermarket, we're expected to take our time w the customers and talk to them. the managers and other departments come out when they're bored to come chat w us! i read the local paper during slow hours and draw in between customers, and its great! everyone is also just really nice and friendly which is fantastic, i can't name one person over there i don't get along with

and i happened to remember the first meeting i had to go to for the hardware store lmfao. i showed up in uniform bc there was no indication that it was a meeting instead of a regular shift, we were basically told to go stock the shelves/face items for an hour (? still not sure why. they did this to all of us and it did Not need to be done) and while we were paid for that time i was NOT trained for it, so when customers came up and asked like "hey wheres the plumbing section" i had to go "um. i don't know :) let's go find someone else" and had no way to deal with it when they inevitably got really fucking mad w me for not being able to help them

and then when the meeting finally actually started, it opened w the manager going "ok i heard some of you had some things you wanted to discuss!" and a couple of the other cashiers reading off a list of issues they wanted to address. none of which were actually addressed. it was shit like "when you guys come down to customer service and immediately disregard the policies we've just explained, it makes us look like the bad guys and gets us treated very poorly by future customers" "ok well are we supposed do about that :)"/"you need to give us our breaks on time. if managers have to be in charge of telling us when we're allowed to go on break, they need to make sure they're not hours late when doing that" "well we're really busy so sometimes we forget but i guess we'll try :)"

... yeah. if i had been a little bit smarter at the time, i would have realized 2wks in that this was a baby union, we were being exploited and i was abt to have the shittiest fucking summer lmao

[agriocnemis]

watching as apparently there is more project moon drama as I have long since just accepted that they were not prepared to get this far most likely.

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you

[diejager]

hiiiii! can i request a miguel x reader? miguel is a big shady business man (kinda like king pen) who owns a strip club and reader is one of the strippers who everyone knows not to mess with since she’s miguel’s girl. a guy starts sexually harassing reader and miguel kicks his ass and puts him in his place. if you’re cormfortable, i would like smut ❤️

Property Cw: smut, possessive behaviour, DUB-CON, worshipping, sex workers, strip club, pimp, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, marking, stripper/sex worker!reader, tell me if I missed any.

Despite the place being a strip club - one on the higher end of the city - there was one rule that it followed to a T without exception: do not touch the workers without consent, yet this pig decided to forgo this fundamental rule put in place in ever strip club and touched you when you’ve told him many times to back off. His sweaty and grabby hands moving across your skin left you shuddering, his hands leaving you feeling disgusted by his touch.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, moving between the bodies to get away from the man.

“C’mon babe!” He moved to try to grab you, insistent that he only wanted to share a drink and talk, “Please! One lap dance!”

Men like him just couldn’t take no, it frustrated you. That might’ve been what he said : one lap dance, but you knew his type, he would demand for more after you were done and become forceful if you didn’t comply. You tried to distance yourself from him, your heels thumping quietly on the velvet flooring, hurried and annoyed while the man followed you, his fingers grazing the naked skin of your shoulder. You wore a blue teddy, the darkest shade of navy strapped to your skin, the bust acting as a corset to push out your breasts and the thin fabric cupping the swell of your ass. It was almost sheer, the few ribbons and decorative texture hiding anything too intimate from the public and garter straps holding your sheer stockings up your thighs. Your attire seemed to be the source of his obsession and of his liking, even following you to the boss’s VIP corner.

“No!” You swung your arm back, hurrying to the bodyguards standing between the VIP and public area of the club, “I told you-”

In your frantic hiss, you walked into a wall, groaning softly. The wall was more so a wall of sculpted muscle than a plaster and drywall, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his protective embrace. A wide and firm palm gripped your stomach, kneading the soft flesh under the lingerie.

“When she says no, it means no, cabrón,” Miguel growled, his broad stature overshadowing the man that followed you. When you turned your head, Miguel had his wrist in hand, the man winced and whimpered at the tight hold, strength threatening to break his wrist, “You got that?”

He nodded, running away with his tail tucked between his legs, out of the club and as far as he could from the beast that held you gently. Turning you around, he led you up the stairs connected to his upstairs suite, a personal balcony that overlooked the proudest part of his kingdom.

“He’s done.”

He wouldn’t be coming back, once Miguel gave the order, the person wouldn't ever be allowed back into any of his establishments. He had rules that he wanted to be respected, towards his employees and especially you, his sweet girl that he picked up from the previous pimp in the area he now controlled with an iron fist towards the cruel and abusive.

His mezzanine was spacious, a soft, faux leather couch, a black able and a private bar area in a corner for him to indulge in his drunken pleasures with or without guests. You’ve always liked this place, a distance from the music and crowd on the ground floor, it was a solace in the busy club. He sat you on the table, the cool surface making you flinch while he faced you, the leather dipping with his weight. He tenderly cradled your cheeks, thumb running along the curve of your painted lips, his eyes roving down your coverage, smooth skin uncovered to his hungry eyes and calling for him.

“Oh, mi dulce Musa,” he cooed, his lips kissing a line down your neck, the dip of your collar, the smell of your breasts and the warmth of your cunt, wetness pooling over the fabric of the teddy he gifted you. “I’m happy you came to me first.”

He hooked a thigh over his shoulder, spreading you on your back as he slipped a finger under your lace, pulling it aside to look at your glistening folds. Sliding two fingers between your labia and collecting your slick on his calloused pads, spreading them open to admire your cunt, clenching around air —hungry for his thick digits. He bowed his head, pressing a kiss on your throbbing clit, pulsing and needy, circling the entrance of your drooling hole, feeling it clench. Wrapping his lips around your nub, he sucked on it as he plunged in, two fingers stretching your tight warmth, guiding his hand in and out.

You cried out, bucking your hips against his rugged face, grinding upwards with a slow mewl. You felt stretched wide, a finger of his counted two of yours, long and sturdy, pumping into you with a goal in mind, tapping your gummy, sweet spot and pulling you apart from the seams. You moaned, shuddering under him, body wracked with tremors when he pumped a third finger, untangling you from the seams of your salacious and confident image you built from your time as a sex worker. You were a wanton mess, back arching and legs quaking, painted nails curled around Miguel’s hair, pleasure coiled tightly in your core.

His pace was steady, hand driving in deeply, coaxing more slick out of you, curling against your warmth. You clung to him desperately, head thrown back and teary eyed as you balanced on the precipice of your climax, an agonising thrum of pleasure beating between your thighs. Sensing your end, he rolled your clit with the tip of his tongue, giving you a bit of solace before he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You wailed, jerking around as your pussy closed around his fingers, your heat squirting over his hand. It was a blinding fire, eyes rolling back into a white cloud, sightless after your earth-shattering orgasm.

He whispered sweet compliments, laving over the bloodied mark with the flat of his tongue, slowly pumping in and out of you until you rode off your release, legs still shaking and hands still curled around his head. He kissed his bite, red eyes drinking in your debauched figure with his mark, a sign of ownership over you, the red indentation of his teeth bleeding you.

“Mía. Mi dulce Musa,” he whispered, gazing at you lovingly, predatory eyes glowing bright red under his lashes and wild curls.

Taglist: @yas-v @elliewilliamsbae @rinieloliver

[kittenlittle24]

Colleagues

Masterlist

Limping to his apartment’s door he heard dull music coming through it from the other side, bringing a gentle smile to his lips. 

Quietly, he opened it and entered the house, greeted by you, skimpily dressed in underwear and in a shirt that barely covers your ass, dancing sensually to some pop song he never heard and if not backed by your entrancing moves would probably have annoyed him to no end. 

He waited patiently for the song to end, only then he clapped and cat-called, making you jump and clutch your chest. 

“Asshole! You scared me half to death “

He placed his hand on his heart in fake hurt before walking over to sit on the couch. Leaning his cane against the seat beside him, he leaned back and stretched his legs out to rest them on the coffee table, careful not to knock the two glasses and the bottle of wine that was waiting there. 

Staring at you, he raised his eyebrows, “Well? Aren’t you going to continue?”

Crossing your arms across her chest, you shook your head

“Are you planning on joining me?” You inquired. 

He mentioned to his leg, “Hello, cripple in pain over here.”

Walking towards him, you took his hands in your soft ones, “Good thing dancing has been scientifically proven to reduce levels of cortisol caused by chronic stress. It also causes the brain to release dopamine – a natural mood booster, and endorphins – a natural painkiller. I learned it in med school.”

Letting her drag him back to an upright position. 

“Med school? I thought you were a stripper.” He answered sarcastically 

Scuffing as you shook your head at him before replying softly, “I’m out of your price range, old man.”

Smiling at you, he gently grabbed your chin his fingers to raise your face, and connected his lips to yours.

“What are we celebrating?”

“I was let out of my contract, just got to sign some paperwork, and starting Monday I’m officially a PPTH employee.”

“Cuddy hired you?”

Nodding excitedly, she pulled back and grabbed his right hand to shake it, “Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, pediatric surgery resident.”

Grinning he shook it back. 

“Dr. House, Head of Diagnostic Medicine, can’t wait to harass you during office hours.”

[simp-ly-writes]

Boss & Bothered

Pairing: Boss!Spencer Agnew x assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Spencer is your boss to a degree and you spent a large majority of time by his side that you begin thinking things about your boss an employee really should not be considering...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, boss/employee relationship, creepy man, harassment, protective!spencer, implied offscreen- VERY suggestive themes, kissing.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,708

─ · · A/N: thank you for the ask, anon! 🫶 and if you know me personally, out of all the things you read, please don't read this one, I went into a different world while writing this... hahaha erm...

─────── · ·

You had a crush on your boss. As the assistant to the Smosh Games channel you spent almost every moment by his side and there was not a single odd task you had not done; like running to the thrift store to get ten red shirts or to the corner store when the kickstarter and assorted energy drinks were out of stock in the kitchen.

You loved you job and truly loved working beside Spencer and you did not know at what point when those friendly stares and touches had become romanticized in your head. From him always opening the door for you or reminding you to take a break (or another one), he never once took all the extra work you did around the studio for granted and maybe that was a cause for the rose-tinted glasses.

Yet when he would bring your favourite coffee order in the morning even when you had said every time that that was your part of the job, he would just wave a hand in your face, assuring you before walking over to his desk- his schedule for the day already printed (and colour-coded, obvriously) so that the day would move smoothly.

Yet even when the day did not, Spencer never snapped or showed any anger towards you. Still being the caring and understanding boss you knew him to be, boss, you remind yourself. Yet you both acted past your positions, you had met his friends outside of work, went out for drinks with him at the end of a long day and even had dinner at his place one time (or maybe it was two times? three times? cant be more than four times?).

But that was just it right? You were both friendly co-workers. Or well, boss and worker but Spencer never held his position above your own, or at least not when it was important. He would pull the boss card as a joke every now and then off-camera that you feigned annoyance to much to the enjoyment of everyone else who loved his on-going joke around the office. A joke was all this is, just some lighthearted teasing when he puts a fleeting hand on my shoulder to ensure I know it is a joke.

But that all seemed to change when a developer from a gaming studio came in to demo the game alongside the cast. Spencer would be starring in this video, you sat behind camera, ready and waiting with his phone and can of kickstarter as you sorted through emails on your tablet, unknowing to the presence beside you.

"Hey, do you know where the director is? I have a tight schedule to be on since I... need... to... be..." his words slowed as the sentence progressed before falling off completely as the developer look at you. His mouth slightly agape before quickly fixing his hair and jaw. Looking up from your tablet, shutting it off quickly as to not give away company secrets, you presented a friendly smile to the individual. "Sorry, could you repeat your question please? I was a little bit tied up on these emails," you say, tapping your fingers against the metal device to exaggerate your point.

"Oh, um, haha, yeah, I was-a looking for the director. Do you know where he is, love?" you cringe automatically at the nickname, leaning slightly away in your chair as you look around the room quickly trying to find Alex Tran. You begin to cringe up your spine, contracting into yourself when the developer takes a half step closer to your chair, you can hear his breathing in your ear that has your smile twitching before you stand to present more space between the two of you.

"I don't see him here at the moment, we are also shooting another video the next studio over. I'm sure as soon as the cast is done there in..." you click on Spencers phone to see the time, "...in 10 minutes. Do you have everything you need to run the software or is there anything else I can get you in the meanwhile?" you ask politely, hands gripping your tablet as the man smiles.

"Alright, thats okay, that you for letting me know. I could really go for a coffee if its not a hassle? Maybe I could also add my number-" you take a big sigh out in relief once hearing the door to the studio open. Alex, Spencer, Courtney, Amanda and Trevor all filing in one by one. Your eyes meet Spencer's as he pauses his conversation with Trevor, eyebrow raised in question as you tip your head towards the developer that stands back by your side.

Spencer's brows furrow as he walks over to you, a smile plastering itself against his features as he steps in between the two of you, extending his hand as a physical barrier. "Hi, Tyler is it? I'm Spencer the head of this channel and Alex over there will be directing the video. Apologies for the delay, Trevor, Courtney, and Amanda were all finishing a shoot. I hope you understand?" Spencer clarifies, pointing at everyone he mentions, tone leaving no rude for argument.

"Yes, this lovely sir/miss, told me. I never got your name sweetheart-" Spencer coughs, his shoulders tense as he looks over his shoulder at you, "Could you go check in with Alex and see if he's doing alright? I can see the set up from here," Spencer pulls his boss tone at you for the first time without a joke or fault and all you can do is nod, pivot on your heel and walk towards Alex.

"Everything alright there, superstar?" Alex teases. Supserstar, that's what the Games department staff called you, seeing you run around like a shooting star while managing a thousand jobs in one with grace, simply put a superstar and you were gracious for the name as you nod at Alex. "Yeah, a lot better now, he was... very friendly." You choose your words carefully, knowing that the developers team is sponsoring todays video and fuelling your pay check.

"Mhmm," Alex hums out, carefully watching Spencer speak with the developer. The passive aggressive undertone is a surprise to everyone in the room from how friendly Spencer usually was. "Spencer really seems worked up, did something happen during the last shoot?" You ask, refusing to turn yourself back around before the cameras roll.

"No, he actually ended up successfully losing Don't Win Mario Kart but I think this is a more recent than that thing, what exactly did the guy say to you?"

"Oh, well he was... nice. Just like I said, a bit too friendly for me upon first meeting. Kept calling me pet names and stuff like that, didn't get handsy or anything, must be a cultural thing," you say before subconsciously taking a drink from the open Kickstarter can without a second thought. "Makes sense then," Alex shrugs before walking over to the filming crew as you follow behind and sit back in your chair. "What makes sense then?" you wish to clarify yet receive no answer except a presence by your side.

"Hey, you doing okay? I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier to help," Spencer comments, taking his phone and drink from your hands with a tight smile that does not seem to reach his eyes. "Yeah, thank you handling it. I didn't want to seem rude to him-" you begin to clarify to your boss who cuts you off. "You did nothing wrong, you did everything right. I sorted out the rest, THAT shouldn't happen again," Spencer points out strongly before taking a sip of Kickstart.

"Oh," is all you manage to get out before Alex calls the cast to their positions and you open your tablet again and move back to those emails only to find your mind drifting, cheeks warming at Spencers protective display...but any other boss would do that right? Protect their employees from clients... and what about what Alex said earlier too...

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you mindlessly reply to email after email and fix everyones schedules before sending them out for tomorrow morning. The cameras are still rolling as you fix yourself in your chair, trying to become more comfortable for only a five minute break to be called and you are standing up in an instant to update Spencer on all the new information you received.

Spencer stands right beside you, leaning against your chair, can in between his hands and glasses slipping down his nose as he watches you intently rambling on and on about the tight schedule him and Alex had after this shoot to maintain while also taking a dinner break. Yet what caught you off guard was how comfortable you felt being so close to him, your arms touching every time you breathed, his gaze so trained onto you that it held you confused as to why you reacted to negatively to the man before. Slowly looking over to Alex who was already looking between the two of you with a knowing smile.

─────── · ·

Since then the dynamic had changed in the office, or at least between you and Spencer. You both were closer (if that was thought possible by the rest of the staff), so close in fact that you both were called into Ian, Anthonys, and HR's office that morning.

"Hey guys," Ian greeted, albeit a bt awkwardly as he looked between the two of you. Anthony offered a wave from behind the desk as well, it felt as is your parents were sitting you down for a talk, your cheeks painted pink as you looked at Spencer to only find support as he shrugged and leaned in saying, "Seems like we are the ones in trouble for once, what are we going to do superstar?"

And all you can do his shove him away playfully, refusing to look at Ian and Anthony as soon as papers came onto the table. "So... before we get started. You both have been doing amazing work, both together and a part but this is not a promotional meeting," Ian began before Anthony took over, they seemed to have rehearsed this...

"We are, as well as HR, who deemed that it might be easier to talk to us that you two are potentially seeing each other, and there is nothing wrong with that! We just need to know if you need to swap departments," Anthony says looking at you. You rapidly shake your head, laughing away the sweat that is building on your palms, rubbing them on your pant legs now refusing to look at Spencer, nervous that the crush you had been harbouring for some time now was being forced into the light.

Spencer also appeared to be refusing to look in your direction as well, stuck in a starring contest with Ian as the room laid in wait before Spencer spoke up, "We are not, formally, seeing one another, though I do enjoy spending time with them outside of work, as I hope they do too?'

"Yes, of course I do. I don't see you as my boss when we sit and eat out like that Spence," you mention to only received a raised brow that has your eyes widening at your word choice... should've just said outside of work, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Your cheeks have never burned so hard, your nails digging into your pant leg only for a hand to rest on top of them, easing you to relax. And by trailing your eye up to a tattooed arm that you would kill to colour in, you stop dead in your tracks at the hint of a smile on Spencers lips before you both are dismissed without signing a singular paper (or at least yet, you hope).

"Only at dinner, huh?" Spencer presses as soon as the door closes but you keep on walking in front of him as he jogs in front of you, causing you to pause in your steps. The cubicles are now all left empty as everyone has left for lunch, you two are the only ones in this way to large of a room, yet it does not seem large enough for the conversation you are about to unpack.

"... what do you want me to say, Spencer?" you press back, dodging the question successfully for a round as Spencer takes a step back, hands raising slightly from his sides. "I'm just curious where else I would be your boss outside of work if dinners are the only thing that counts..."

"Spencer!" you whisper shout, mind already going into the nooks and crannies you did your best to hide. You looked around but had not yet felt uncomfortable by the converssation, only the unbearable heat starting to crawl up your skin as his harm drapes itself over his forehead. His buttoned shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his signature leather boots creak as he shifts his weight. He seems as bothered as you are right now... as he cannot stand still....

"Oh... I see now," Spencer begins, his low tone has you moving closer to grasp onto his next words, your heart races, your brain a bit fuzzy but you don't feel nervousness or the least bit scared. In fact, you feel freer than ever in this moment, unloading what you desperately tried to hide for so long. "...where else do you hear my voice telling you what to do outside of work?" Spencer continues, keeping his tone even as you meet eyes catching a flickering of surface level genuine curiosity mixed with something, deeper, almost hidden...

You gasp, Spencer tilts his head, putting that little sound to memory as he waits for you to take the next step closer and you invite yourself to. You can feel the heat coming from his body, you both stand so close, you chests brushing up against one another, your breath hitching as he fixes his hair while staring at you. "Spencer..." your voice worries yet comes off as a whine, "What?" Spencer asks softly, still allowing you control that has you really questioning of going back inside that office and signing those damn papers.

"We can't do this right now, here in the office, please," you manage to get out behind your brain imagining every scenario where you press him up against a white wall and not kiss him all over to you both are breathless. "But outside?" Spencer asks once more, "Outside of dinner?" Spencer presses further as you only nod once, "yeah, outside," you confirm before taking a step back as he does the same, swallowing harshly and playing with his hair once more.

"Okay then," Spencer confirms.

"Okay then," you copy and for the remaining day in the office. You are sitting awkwardly in chairs, fingers aching to put your digital signature to the e-document as you keep sneaking glances at one another. It does not help when his phone buzzes in your lap that has you startling upright during the end of a shoot (thankfully).

The car ride back was even more tense, you both car-pooled often, living in the same building but watching him out of the corner of your eye as you changed the stick-shift, his arm, showing off his inner arm tattoos came to close to your hand, just teasing its way to your leg, you quickly parked, feeling that you were squirming in your chair, utterly restless.

─────── · ·

You both barely managed to get into the apartment and lock the door before your hands were on one another, breaths equally catching and being saved. Spencer groaned against your touch as you fell weak at the knees and fell back onto the couch where he met you and watching his cage you in, leaning in closer and closer, the documents lingered on your mind that had you presses your hands to his chest.

Spencer immediately stood up, "You doing alright, darling? Did I do something wrong?" your heart raced even more. "We, I- need to sign those papers right now before we continue..." you point between the two of you, intently looking up at his pink lips, "...this," you breathe out as Spencer sits down on the coffee table, feeling around for his phone as you both scramble to put your e-signatures on while also claiming sick leave... for you both would not be showing up tomorrow morning either once feeling his lips and the caress of his skin against your own.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 😮‍💨 whew... umm... No Part 2's on this one! (sorry)

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

[eggcats]

I know everyone's already said this, but Vox is so funny because he's quite literally the most competent and professional Vee.

EXCEPT for when it comes to Alastor.

Like, HE’S the one who had to calm down Valentino and keep him from making a scene. (Especially because, yes, it looks bad if they can't control their employees, but - even in hell - it looks even worse if their top pornstar has to be dragged to the studio vs walking in on his own).

Velvette doesn't give a shit about professionalism. Like, Vox wanted to talk to Carmine about Angelic Security, and you think THAT'S how he wanted Velvette to treat her to try to guarantee them working together? Absolutely not.

(Also, Vox being able to immediately turn the tide of the paparazzi harassing him about news that JUST broke? Granted, he did use his hypnosis, but it wouldn't have worked if he didn't immediately come up with something on the fly. He knows how to keep his company running AND looking good, as WELL as being innovative enough to create new things with little to no notice.)

The other two Vees? I would not trust either of them to be the public speaker or the face of the company the way Vox is. Do you think either Velvette or Valentino would have been able to come up with a solution to the moved-up Extermination date in a way that pleased the general public?

But then. Some old timey radio deer shows back up and he immediately breaks down and can't plan for shit.

He sings a silly little song and immediately gets owned to the point he loses power to the entire city.

He plans to break in using a dude they KNOW is incompetent, and his only response when it (obviously) fails is to fucking gamer anon hate with "hahaha kys loser!" and the second he is confronted with Alastor’s face he can't do anything. He doesn't even try a single other thing after this point, cutting his loses entirely.

And THEN he avoids the meeting sending Velvette instead, potentially fucking up their ability to collaborate because he can't handle seeing Alastor.

This bisexual wreck of a television doesn't fucking leave his gamer dungeon once since Alastor is back, doing everything he can to avoid seeing him in real life.

Like, imagine what dealing with Vox is like from Alastor's perspective. HE never sees the professionalism or competence - he ONLY ever gets the pathetic mew-mew Vox!

Alastor is constantly being told how competent Vox is with his company and shit, but the second he's in the same room with him Vox is glitching and can't walk in a straight line without running into a wall or something. If I were Alastor, I'd have fun teasing the television too, because, like, what's wrong with him? It's funny!

Like, does Alastor register that this treatment is only for him, or does he think the rest of hell is pathetic enough to not notice or to just accept it? Does Alastor think Vox is like this all the time, and he's using his hypnosis to make everyone else forget about it?

Vox is just such a funny man, he has one weakness and it's just Alastor - and Alastor isn't even doing anything, he's just nearby minding his own goddamn business, lmao.

[rafesbabygirlx]

I Love Him Though

Masterlist

Toxic Rafe x Kook Reader

Contents: NONCON/DUBCON, smut, breeding kink, oral (m+f receiving) name callings turns into pet name calling, daddy kink, degradation, physical abuse mentions. Unsuccessful offering (prostitution) Rafe is back and forth with emotions. Ward is dead but I still picture curtain bangs S2 Rafe when he’s ’toxic.’ That should be everything.

Not read over

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: someone let me know if I’m using warnings right. Please also I’m working in better dialogue and hope it’s improving. :)

You were the quintessential heiress princess, born into OBX’s most prominent family. The youngest of four brothers and your parents’ only daughter, you just graduated from USC in California with a business degree and returned to the island, stepping into the role of Chief Operations Officer, second only to your father. Your beauty was legendary on Figure Eight—admired by girls and desired by boys.

Alongside you was your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron—handsome, irresistible, and undeniably complicated. He went to UCLA for business. Not his first choice but he’d be damned to let you be across the country on your own. You started dating sophomore year, and despite the ups and downs, you stayed together, much to your parents’ dismay. They had warned you about the Cameron family, especially Rafe’s drug and anger issues. But the relationship felt like the one thing that was truly yours, and you didn’t care.

Not when he slapped you in front of your friends. Not when he tried to offer you to Barry as payback for a debt. (Thankfully, Barry had some decency.) Not even when he ruined a family dinner, barging in during a coke-fueled rage. You excused yourself to take care of him, understanding that it always came back to his issues with his father. This all happened during his downward spiral and issues with the Pogues. All this you heard from Sarah and not the supposed love of your life and yet you still stayed. None of these behaviors changing in LA at school.

You thought Rafe would change after his dad passed—become softer, more loving, and respectful. Instead, it pushed him deeper into anger and bitterness. While you thrived at work, earning the admiration of your family and employees, Rafe’s messages grew increasingly hostile throughout the day. You couldn’t understand how he had the time for this, given that he had taken over his father’s company. But not shocked how he just rode through it without care.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe 8:50 AM: “Hey, are we getting dinner tonight?”

Rafe 12:00 PM: “Are you fucking kidding me? Three hours?!”

12:30 PM: 7 missed calls from Rafe.

Rafe 2:00 PM: “Why do I even bother with a stupid bitch like you? I could fuck anyone I want.”

You 2:05 PM: “We’re still on for dinner. Jesus Christ, Rafe, I’ve been in meetings since 7:30 AM. Do you not have anything better to do?”

Rafe 4:00 PM: “You’re questioning me about what I do? I work hard to keep my dad’s legacy alive while you probably have your daddy’s help. You’re pathetic, and I should slap some sense into you.”

Rafe 5:00 PM: “What time are you gonna be home?”

You 5:05 PM: “Six.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Moments like these, unfortunately frequent, made you regret ever giving Rafe a key to your apartment. Even after all this time, you refused to move in with him at Tannyhill. You loved him, but the thought of living together was unbearable until he got his issues under control.

As expected, when you arrived home, Rafe was already in your kitchen. You didn’t even have a chance to put your bags down before he started. “What the fuck is your problem?!” His face was red, fists clenched.

“Rafe, I’m not doing this. I work—I actually work—and you harassing me all day with your bullshit is no—��

Before you could finish, he slapped you, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. Your mind spun as your face burned from the sting.

Rafe's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. You tried to struggle against him, but he was too strong, pinning you down with ease. His grip on your throat tightened, and you felt the sting of his words as he spat, "You wouldn't have to be treated like such a whore if you weren't such a bitch with a mouth on you."

“Fuck you Rafe, get off of me!” Your protests fell on deaf ears as Rafe's grip only tightened, his voice low and menacing. "Go ahead, finish telling me what you think," he growled, his teeth bared in a snarl. He dragged you up the bed, your head hitting the headboard with a thud, before climbing over you and trapping your arms beneath his knees. “Just be a good girl for me. Alright?”

His hand stroked his hardened length, the tip brushing against your lips as he smeared precum across your mouth. You tried to resist, but Rafe's anger only escalated. "Fine, I guess we can do this the hard way," he sneered, his grip on your throat becoming a vice.

You struggled for breath as Rafe's hand closed around your throat, his grip tightening until you could barely gasp for air. Just as you thought you would suffocate, Rafe thrust himself inside you, his hands gripping your hair as he pumped furiously. He didn't care about your comfort or your well-being; all that mattered was his pleasure and your punishment.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You were suffocating, your airway constricted by Rafe's girth and your own helplessness. His cock felt like a vice around your throat, choking the life out of you as he thrust deeper, his grunts echoing in your ears. "Open up and look at me, let me know who your daddy is," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

You struggled to open your eyes, but the discomfort was too much, and tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. Rafe yanked your hair, the pain searing through you, and slapped you hard across the cheek. "LOOK!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

You complied, your eyes watering as you gazed up at him, your vision a blurry mess. Rafe's eyes lit up with perverse pleasure. "Yeah, there are those pretty eyes, my pretty fucking slut looks so good choking on me," he crooned, his voice dripping with sick satisfaction.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic, his cock slipping in and out of your throat with a wet, slapping sound. Drool pooled at your chin, his balls slapping it making the drool drip down to your chest as you struggled to breathe. Your body felt numb, your mind foggy with pain and fear.

Rafe didn't seem to care, lost in his own pleasure and power trip. He gripped your hair tighter, his hips bucking wildly as he continued to thrust, his cock jamming deeper into your throat. The pain was unbearable, but you knew that stopping would only make it worse.

And so you lay there, trapped beneath him, your throat ravaged by his cock, your body broken and bruised, as Rafe continued to throat fuck you like an animal, his pleasure the only thing that mattered. Finally with one final thrust he came down your throat. The warm liquid somewhat soothing the sting of pain that’s there.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

He moves back to in between your thighs and his hands gripping your hips. Your arms now rushing with blood again are limp next to your body, no feeling to them and Rafe sat on them for what felt like an eternity. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you try to push him away, but he holds you firmly in place. "Please, Rafe, stop," you beg, tears streaming down your face. He ignores your pleas, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and lust.

He kneels there, not moving. You sit up to look at him better through tears as you cry. His hands still grip your hips tightly, holding you in place. You try to wriggle free, but he doesn't budge. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your skin as he glares at you. You just want him away from you.

"You're mine," he says, his voice low and threatening. "You'll learn to stay in line." He doesn't move, just sits there, his body a heavy burden on yours. You're trapped, unable to escape his grip or his gaze. He hands you his undershirt to wipe your face of the drool and tears. You just cry into it.

The silence is oppressive, the air thick with tension. You sob quietly, trying to break free, but he holds you firm. Time seems to stand still as you lie there, helpless in front him. His eyes never leave you.

He finally breaks the heavy silence, his voice low and hesitant. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I love you so much, and I don’t want to be without you, but sometimes you need to learn your lesson.”

Tears stream down your face as you clutch his shirt, your voice trembling as you respond, “Rafe, I can’t do this anymore. You’re possessive, overbearing… and it scares me. Why can’t you understand that?” Your voice cracks, the words carrying years of frustration and fear.

He brushes off your plea, offering a half-hearted, “I know, I know. Let me make it up to you, show you I care.” His eyes are distant, his apology empty. He doesn’t understand. He never really listens, and deep down, you know he’s counting on you not doing anything about it.

Without acknowledging the depth of your pain, he lifts your chin and kisses you—deep, consuming, as if that alone could erase everything. His hands move with practiced ease, guiding you back onto the bed. His lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses, sucking in your nipples, down your stomach and to your thighs, but the tenderness feels misplaced, hollow.

His thumb starts tracing gentle circles on your clit, while the rest of you is screaming, begging for him to stop. But the weight of his presence, the years of manipulation, pin you down as surely as his body does. He peels your panties off, his breath hot against your skin as he licks up your cunt, but it all feels wrong. It feels wrong but you can’t help but moan.

He begins to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. You're telling yourself no, but all you can get out are moans when you buck your hips up into him. He keeps working, sucking and licking at your pussy as he slides two fingers into you. "Oh my god, Rafe, right there," you force out between pants, your body trembling with pleasure. He looks up at you, a wicked smile on his face as he takes in your contorted expression. He loves this power he holds over you, and you can't help but be consumed by it.

Finally, he releases his fingers and mouth from you, climbing over you like a predator stalking its prey. He stares down at you, his eyes burning with desire, and you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. For a second, he doesn't look like the evil man that terrifies you. "I want you to be happy, to be loved," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Can we please be happy together, no more of these crazy ways?" You ask. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, and without saying another word, he lines himself up and thrusts into you, hard and fast. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel like you're being consumed by him, body and soul.

His pace is relentless, your body shuddering beneath him as he pounds into you. Your eyes roll back in your head, but he grabs your chin, pulling your gaze back to his. "Look at me, baby, look at who does this for you," he growls, his voice low and demanding.

You obey, staring into his eyes as he continues to fuck you. "No one can make you feel this good," he says, his fingers digging into your hips. "This pussy was made for me, I should fill you up and get you pregnant. What would your parents say if I knocked you up, huh? I know they hate me, hate who I am. But you love me, I know you do. Ugh, you wouldn't be clenching me like this if you didn't."

You don't reply, your eyes locked onto his as he continues to thrust into you. You know he's right; you'd love to have a family with Rafe, to feel him inside you, to know that he's the one who made you pregnant. "Tell me who you belong to," he demands, his fingers pinching your clit.

"You... I belong to you daddy," you whimper, your body trembling with pleasure. "I'm all yours."

"That's right, baby," he says, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. "When you listen, you get a reward." You lift your right leg over his shoulder knowing you’d get him at the perfect angle to hit your G-spot.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you cry out, your body arching off the bed. "Keep going."

He grins, his eyes burning with desire. "Me too, sweet girl," he says, thrusting harder. "Tell me where you want me. You want what I said? To fill you up, get you pregnant?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan out a lie, your body convulsing around him. "Fuck, fill me up."

He groans, you cum hard and he follows suit. His eyes rolling back as he cums deep inside you. He stays like that for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip from you. Then he’s sticking a finger inside shoving the cum back in. "Gotta make sure it sticks, mama," he says, using the endearment that makes you shudder. He confuses it as a good one.

He leans down and kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth as he holds you close. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling with passion. You know that this is just the beginning, that Rafe will keep pushing you, keep taking you to new heights.

“Y’know I love you right?” All you can do is nod.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You’re trapped between what you want to feel and what you know—caught in a cycle you’re terrified to break.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Rafe pulls away and silently rises from the bed. You lie there, motionless, feeling broken, battered, and emotionally drained as his absence fills the room. Curled up on your side, you stare at the wall, your mind numb, listening to the sound of him turning on the shower. The water runs, but it does nothing to drown out the hollow ache settling in your chest.

This has become your reality—a constant 360 with Rafe, a never-ending cycle of hurt, apologies, and hollow promises. Round and round, you go, lost in this whirlwind of love, control, and regret. You loved him once, loved him deeply, and you still find yourself missing the boy he used to be. The one who made you laugh, who held you like you were the only thing that mattered. But that boy feels like a distant memory now, replaced by someone who uses love as a weapon.

You convince yourself that he must love you—he has to. Why else would he want you to feel this way? He wouldn’t go to such lengths to make you feel good if he didn’t care, right? It’s a lie you tell yourself over and over, a story that comforts you even when the truth is painfully clear. You know it’s a manipulation tactic, one he’s used time and time again, but it works every time.

And you let it work because the idea of leaving, of being without him, despite your parents pleas, is scarier than staying trapped in this vicious circle.

[yan-lorkai]

Can we please have some hcs or oneshot where Yuu works at Mostro Lounge and has to deal with a difficult costumer? How would the octotrio react if said costumer tried to hit or insult Yuu? Platonically or romantic it's funny btw, thanks!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I was indecisive between platonic or romantic so I left ambiguous. I hope u enjoy, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, Floyd beating a random and reader knowing about their yandere tendencies but liking nonetheless.

A death wish. This customer has a death wish, holding you by the collar of your shirt while he glares right at you as a predator to his prey. You aren't a prey though, not that he knows this.

You look down, his blazer wet from the drink you purposely spilled on it because he was an annoying asshole. He looks angry or something but you don't care. Instead you focus on the reaction of your co-workers, some tremble knowing what's coming, others running to get Jade and Floyd. You almost can't wait.

"Sir," You smiled how Jade taught you. Sweet, disarmingly. Your fingers coming around to hold his wrist. "I apologize for this little accident. Though if you insist on being violent there will be consequences."

"Yeah and? Those idiot eels can't save ya now. I only need a second to mess your face!" He snorted, unable to stop the toothy grin from dominating his smug face. He was dumb, and oh so fascinating, you almost wished to study his brain but you knew not much would rest of him when your tweels got him.

He slapped you on your face hard enough that it send you stumbling to the ground, his hand already reaching for his magic pen, its tip lit by flames so bright your skin screamed. So hot, unbearably so, like fire. “You are nothing but a mere employee, you should know the customer is always right."

He was ready to strike you with all his might when a strong hand landed on his shoulder. It's was Floyd. The usual smiley eel was frowning now but a dark glint was raising on his eyes, mischievous, evil. He used to look at you like that when you used to tell him to leave you alone, though he was obviously more softer when roughhousing with you. With this customer though?

"Are you alright, my pearl?" Jade asks, helping you stand up and searching for injuries. But you assure him you're fine with a nod of your head, feeling if anything a little tired. It was so noisy today. And you were kind used to dealing with these type of costumers, used to see the punishments and then getting coddled by your favorite trio.

"Mind accompany me to Azul's office?" Jade offered you his arms which you accepted but still didn't move an inch. A smug smile now on your lips as the customer who was arguing with you now shaked under Floyd's stare. As he should.

"Destroy him," you said to him, eyeing the customer who pushed you. "and be quick, Floyd darling."

Then you walked to Azul's office, ignoring Floyd's laugh and the sounds of his fists hitting the other guy's face. You were used to things like that happening frequently but it did bother you that this was the only way for people to behave. The only way to correct their behavior, as this wasn't gonna happen if he wasn't harassing you and making uncomfortable comments about you.

The screams of pain and the smell of something burning was all you kept in your mind as you sat in Azul's office, Jade putting a glass of water on your hands for you to drink before seating by your side.

"Unbelievable," Azul looked at you, at your uniform crumpled. He stood up from his usual spot and held your face on his hands, so sofly, so lovingly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I can't leave you alone one minute, angelfish, look what he did to you!"

He pressed on a small scratch in your cheeks, swelled and hurting, it made you wince and Azul was not happy with it. You could see him planning something. Planning a revenge against that guy.

"Floyd better off him for touching you." Jade said, cleaning the scratch gently. "If he don't, perhaps I'll have something to nimble on later."

You laughed. They were overprotective of you, they were before, they are now. You kinda like it. You like their gentleness, the softness, the slow dancing with Azul when he didn't have a new victim to trick, cooking with Floyd and splashing water on Jade while you wash the dishes. The simple moments with them were precious, each and every single one. And of course you knew about their dark side, could see it as clear as day but you accepted them nevertheless.

As if you have a choice. You knew about the house they built underwater, decorated how you like, full of things you loved. You knew a lot of things even if you pretended you don't.

After making sure you weren't hurt and that everything was fine, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you guys, you know that?"

Azul hummed, exhaling in your scent as Jade leaned in to kiss your unharmed cheek. You knew they were swearing and angry at themselves to let you be alone out there, Jade and Azul stared at each other as if exchanging guilt and you didn't want them to feel like this. You held each of them their hand and squeezed both hard enough to get their attention.

"We should go out and do something," you suggested tiredly but your eyes lighted up with excitement with the prospect of doing something with your favorite trio. But before any plans could be made, Floyd barged into the office, his once-white shirt now stained crimson. As he always did, a wide grin stretched across his face, sending shivers down your spine.

As Floyd entered, we could see he was carrying a battered bag in one hand and clutching his side with the other. "He won't bother you anymore, Shrimp. I've made sure of it, ehehe."

Before anyone could respond, Floyd started recounting what he did in great detail, how he punched and squeezed and how the guy screamed. He throw himself in your lap mid-tale, wrapping his arms around your tummy. "Oi, shrimp pet my head." He asked.

And you did, combing through his strands delicately while he continued rambling. "And then I've dragged him outta here and told him not to come back."

"Thank you," you said to him. Then turned to Jade and Azul "and you two too!"

You didn't need to be comforted but their gesture was so sweet. If you have those three with you, you guess that you're going to be fine. Though you do wonder, would they laugh if they found out you did this on purpose? You can only imagine their answer as you wasn't planning to tell them.

[jesusagrees]

NewJeans fans comparing NewJeans so called mistreatment to the mistreatment of LOONA and FIFTY FIFTY is NOT in the same category. They do NOT sit in the same bracket. Nor is it an act of feminism on their part. Defending their groomer and abuser is NOT an act of feminism here.

LOONA and FIFTY FIFTY were mistreated extremely. They had proof. FIFTY FIFTY were literally being starved, overworked, abused...etc...with proof they still lost the lawsuit. LOONA was being overworked and not paid and still lost.

NewJeans alleged "abuse" is someone not greeting them in the elevator and another manager of another group ignoring them and telling others as well and the new CEO telling them to move on. Yes, I would tell them the same thing.

These girls have stuck by their abuser SO much, Min Hee Jin has successfully isolated these girls and made them feel completely dependent on HER only. I don't blame other staff or groups for ignoring NJs. MIn Hee Jin has shown she IS the problem and these girls have done nothing but stick by her like fools. Of course other groups don't want to jeopardize their own groups and careers by associating with that. I would do the same! Especially after MHJ was exposed for her being a defender and covering up SA/Harassment in the workforce and harassing employees. That's crazy!

Someone ignoring you is NOT the end of the world. They ignore you, you ignore them. You get over it. Not everyone has to give you the time of day and cater to your every needs. I'm sorry, NewJeans, but you are NOT the money makers of HYBE. HYBE most definitely will not hurt if you disband. As a matter of fact, they've been putting out too much money on NewJeans, it's actually more expensive to keep them at this point.

I am actually floored seeing this unfold. These girls NEED to leave the industry at this point and seek intensive therapy. The adults around them have FAILED them and they should no longer be in this industry. If they are going to cry everytime someone doesn't say hi then they aren't fit to be idols.

Min Hee Jin has done SO much damage on these girls. They will blindly follow their groomer who has done nothing but bring them down this whole time. This woman has lied, defamed, harassed, and attacked other groups. She has forced NewJeans to do the same and has shielded herself behind them claiming "NewJeans made me do it, I'm doing this for NewJeans," when she has 2 active criminal cases against her and 5 active lawsuits. These girls kept publicly thanking her in front of the people she attacked over and over again and put out articles against them to bring up NJs. That is NOT protecting your group.

The only mistreatment here is from Min Hee Jin. She has lied to these girls, she has manipulated these girls, she has abused these girls. and she has gaslit these girls. These girls can do what they want now that they're adults, but if they want to work in the industry again, they better go begging on their knees to the CEO and ask for forgiveness. They just ruined every chance of working in the industry again.

[swanimagines]

SOMEONE TO BE SCARED OF | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ex is an asshole. So Morpheus punishes him.

"If I can't have you, no one can."

That's what he had said when you broke up with him. Months of belittling and torment from the man you had foolishly started dating on Valentine's Day. He had felt like a dream, but by the end of February, he had turned to complete opposite of himself. His true self.

Morpheus had succeeded in talking you out of it, he had told you you deserve someone better - seeing how miserable you were now that he let you live on Earth with the man you claimed to love. Eventually, he saw what was happening, and you finally broke down in front of him when he visited your dreams. Morpheus managed to make you break it with your ex, and there, hell began.

Your ex's threat seemed just a childish outburst at first - but then it started turning into worse. Humanity showed its worse side to you. He came to your workplace, started spreading ugly rumors about you and even tried to attack you in broad daylight. You were scared for your life, you tried to go to the police and hide from him, but nothing seemed to work. He always found a new way to torment and bully you.

But without your knowledge, Morpheus had started to work on actions what he'll do to your tormentor for making you scared like that. He had cared about you for a long time, more than a boss should care about his employee. In a different way. He had changed a lot during his imprisonment, so much that he had eventually accepted your wish to live on Earth, he had let you to fall in love with someone else than him. Even through his jealousy. He felt like your current situation was his fault too - he should have checked the man's dreams, he would have found out his real nature from them. But he also knew it would have been creepy if he had done it. But he still should have known.

He was fixing that mistake right now. Your harasser would be left scared and alone, unable to get anyone else fall for him ever again.

"Who are you?" the man snarled the moment he saw Morpheus standing by his bedside. "Creep, get out of my house!"

Morpheus smiled, and the man got a look as if something snapped within him, as he lost all power over his own body. A partial sleep paralysis was an excellent way for things like these.

"I am someone you should be scared of," Morpheus replied. "You will leave everyone you torment alone."

Morpheus knew the man was desperately trying to find some way to escape, but he was glued into his bed, forced to watch Morpheus loom over him.

"I can make you suffer," Morpheus whispered. "Or you can end this here."

The man just stared at him, taking in short breaths.

Morpheus reached forward and grabbed the man's neck, squeezing it tightly until his eyes bulged out.

"This is what happens to men who mess with people who love them," Morpheus said softly. "You're a fool, you don't know any better. You think you can try to scare them?"

"No," the man finally squeaked. "No, I won't contact them anymore, please, I promise I won't."

Morpheus stared at the man, his eyes glowing brightly in the dark. "You won't. And if I hear you have, I will curse you with nightmares for the rest of your life."

With that, Morpheus was gone and the man was released from his paralysis, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his spine. For a moment, he wondered if it was real or just a nightmare, but he definitely didn't want to find out. He got so scared that he dropped everything and moved out of town - and never again he mistreated anyone in his life.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[babyshoesnerdshit]

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.