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goldenlikedayl1ght · 10 months ago

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...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett blurb #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine blurb #wolverine smut #xmen smut #deadpool and wolverine #danny speaks to the void

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lostintransist · 4 months ago

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Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #konig x female reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #lostintransit writing #lostintransit

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sheep-from-rad · 4 months ago

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About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Titling this as 'Batfam trying to reintegrate themselves back to reader's life'

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out.

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred.

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends.

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

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leyavo · 3 months ago

Text

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

[PART FIVE]

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

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cheekios · 1 year ago

Text

The streets are calling.

Eviction is imminent.

I have 5 days to raise $1275

I noticed alot of content surrounding homelessness especially in San Fransisco and Seattle. My biggest fear is being filmed without my consent and being plastered over social media because someone wanted to make a documentary surrounding homelessness without actually helping.

Goal: $1275

CA: $HushEmu

PP: [email protected]

I have nothing (Whitney Houston)

The smallest catalyst can occur to where someone can find themselves homeless. In my case it was my glasses breaking. Not having a back up pair. Not having insurance. Which caused me to be unable to work and drive. Resulting in me losing my job. A piece of plastic was my downfall ultimately.

I need community effort to stay housed. Even $1-2 for everyone who views this clears the goal. Please interact if you truly have nothing to spare. Reblogs ≠ do not equate to goals being met so please ask if curious wether goal has been met.

Update: 4/30/24

1200 reblogs and zero donations. I have 4 days to raise rent before I am given a notice to vacate.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone donated my reblog amount and saved me from the streets.

Update: May 1st. No donations. I have 48 hours to come up with $1000

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ghostlyglimmer · 6 months ago

Text

The Fun Zone Part 1

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny Fenton leaned against the register at The Fun Zone, his eyes half-lidded with the bored expression of someone who had already been on shift for far too long. The arcade’s lights flickered with their usual neon brilliance, and the sound of pinball machines, whirring go-karts, and kids screaming in the indoor playground provided a steady background cacophony. It was chaos incarnate, but Danny didn’t mind. The job paid surprisingly well for a Gotham gig, and it let him afford textbooks and a halfway decent apartment.

That, of course, didn’t make up for the downsides—namely, the fact that the place was a gang front. Danny had figured it out about two days in. The suspicious packages delivered after hours, the shady clientele that frequented the private lounge, and the way his manager, “Big Sal,” always seemed to have armed goons lurking nearby. None of it really phased him. As long as he kept his head down, he didn’t see any reason to care.

But apparently, the local vigilantes did.

“Hey, kid,” a gravelly voice startled Danny out of his stupor. He looked up to see the Red Hood himself looming over the counter, his arsenal on full display. Guns, knives, and explosives hung from his tactical gear, his crimson helmet reflecting the pulsing lights of the arcade.

Danny blinked. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Can I get you a family pack for laser tag, or are you just here to threaten the boss?”

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, his helmet hiding what Danny assumed was either a glare or the equivalent of a facepalm. “You know this place is run by a gang, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny deadpanned. “And they pay me twenty bucks an hour plus tips. Do you want to buy tokens or not?”

Hood seemed taken aback, the air of intimidation slipping just a little. “Do you even care that they’re criminals?”

“As long as they don’t ask me to do crime, I’m good. Rent’s expensive, man.”

Before Hood could respond, the double doors to the bowling alley burst open, and in stormed Big Sal, flanked by his usual goons. Sal was a mountain of a man, with slicked-back hair and a perpetual sneer that seemed permanently etched into his face. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Hood.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Red Hood,” Sal growled. “You’ve been poking around my turf for weeks. You think you can just walk in here?”

Hood drew a pistol in response. “I don’t think. I act.”

The goons raised their weapons, and Sal barked out orders, but before the situation could escalate further, Danny loudly cleared his throat.

“Hey!” he said, waving a hand lazily. “Can you guys not do this in front of the register? I just mopped over here.”

Both Sal and Hood turned to stare at him.

“What?” Danny shrugged. “If there’s going to be a shootout, at least take it to the parking lot. I’m not cleaning up blood.”

Hood’s shoulders shook with what might have been a laugh, though his voice remained gruff. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“First week on the job, I had to break up a fight between two dads who got into a brawl over mini-golf,” Danny replied flatly. “This? This is Tuesday.”

Hood holstered his pistol, much to Sal’s visible annoyance. “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”

“Thanks,” Danny said. “So, if you take over this place, do I still get to keep my job?”

Sal sputtered indignantly. “You little—”

“You shut up,” Hood snapped, leveling a finger at the gang boss before turning back to Danny. “If I take over, yeah, you can keep your job. Might even give you a raise for putting up with this crap.”

“Cool,” Danny said, as though he hadn’t just witnessed a life-or-death standoff. “Want a soda while you’re here? Employee discount means I can get it for like, fifty cents.”

Hood stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m starting to think you’re the most dangerous person here.”

Danny smirked. “Nah, I’m just good at customer service.”

As Hood turned back to deal with Sal, Danny leaned against the counter again, sipping a soda he’d poured for himself.

The standoff between Red Hood and Big Sal continued, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Danny, however, remained entirely unfazed, sipping his soda and watching the drama unfold as if it were a reality TV show. His coworkers, who had been hiding behind various attractions, occasionally peeked out to catch glimpses of the action. None of them seemed inclined to intervene. Not that Danny blamed them—this was well above their pay grade.

Big Sal, realizing that Red Hood wasn’t going to back down, snarled and gestured to his goons. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine? This is my turf, Hood!”

Hood’s voice was calm but laced with menace. “Not anymore, it’s not. You’ve been running weapons and drugs through this place for months. The Fun Zone’s under new management now. So, unless you want to end up in Arkham—or worse—you’ll walk out of here while you still can.”

Sal bared his teeth, but before he could respond, one of his goons hesitated and took a step back. “Uh, boss? Maybe we should listen. It’s… it’s Red Hood.”

Sal shot the man a glare that could curdle milk. “Coward.”

Hood tilted his head toward the exit. “Smart guy. He should take you with him.”

The goon glanced nervously at Sal, then at Hood, and bolted toward the doors. A few others followed, their loyalty clearly not strong enough to stick around for what was about to happen.

Danny watched the exodus with mild amusement. “Wow, Sal. You really inspire loyalty, huh?”

“Shut up, kid!” Sal barked, his face red with anger. “You’re on thin ice.”

Danny raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. If I were you, I’d consider an employee morale retreat or something.”

Hood let out a low chuckle, his guns still trained on Sal. “You’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that.”

Danny replied with a shrug. “So, what’s the plan here, Hood? Are you shutting this place down, or do I need to update my résumé?”

Hood’s answer was interrupted by a sudden crash from the go-kart track. Everyone turned to see a group of kids who had somehow bypassed the barricades and were now gleefully racing around, oblivious to the standoff happening mere feet away.

“Seriously?” Hood muttered, lowering his weapons slightly. “This place is chaos.”

“Welcome to The Fun Zone,” Danny said with a wry smile. “Where the games never stop, even during a hostile takeover.”

Hood let out a heavy sigh, clearly debating whether this was worth his time. Finally, he holstered his weapons and gestured for Sal to leave. “You’ve got 24 hours to pack up and get out. If I see you here after that, you won’t be walking out.”

Sal opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He stormed out, slamming the doors behind him, leaving Hood, Danny, and a scattering of terrified employees behind.

Hood turned back to Danny. “You still want to work here?”

Danny shrugged. “Depends. You hiring?”

Hood stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got nerve, kid. Fine. You’re hired—you get a fat raise and fewer shady dealings. Just… try not to question too much about what happens in the backroom.”

“Cool,” Danny said, finishing his soda. “Do I get a new uniform, or do I keep the one with the mustard stains?”

Hood sighed again, rubbing his temples. “I’m already regretting this.”

Danny grinned. “Welcome to management, boss.”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #ghostlyglimmer's fanfiction #ghostlyglimmer #GhostlyGlimmer's art

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marcsburnerphone · 1 year ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

#captain price x female reader #john price #angst #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader

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vaspider · 4 months ago

Note

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

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dokries · 11 months ago

Text

sweetest thing

pairing: chwe hansol (vernon) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, strangers/uni classmates to lovers, bakery worker!reader x window shopper!vernon

word count: 7.5k

warnings: lots of food mentions, mutual pining, vernon is down bad, emergency room/hospital visit for an injury (don’t worry, it’s not super bad!), seokmin and seungkwan best wingmen, forehead kiss near the end, let me know if i need to add more!

synopsis:

when you finally find out the name of the cute regular who never buys anything, you don’t expect to get to know him better…or for him to be so sweet.

author note: yeah i really have no idea how i wrote so much 😭 my first vernon fic, and it’s a huge one…anyway, this fic wouldn’t be possible without seungkwan so everyone say thank you seungkwan 🫶 lots of love, and i hope you enjoy reading ♡

masterlist

running a small business is hard.

you know this from experience, seeing your boss run pang! sweets all by himself before you came along—mingyu’s a strong one, that’s for sure. well, he’s strong literally as well; he’s always at the gym if he’s not checking in on the bakery.

though you only started at pang! for the money—you’re a university student; there’s always something you have to pay for—you have to admit you’ve gotten a bit attached to your part time job, finding solace in the arms of the small lot mingyu rents out.

and that love for your job is exactly why your eye is twitching and your voice is strained as you talk to the regular customer in front of you—well, he would be, if he actually bought anything the bakery offers. “do you need any assistance?”

the man in front of you raises his head to look at you before shaking his head, turning his attention back to the croissant in front of him.

yes, he’s cute and seems to be around your age but he also comes in every morning and buys absolutely nothing. he stands there in front of the display stand, and analyses every single detail in the cinnamon rolls you make early in the morning on the weekends, as well as the assorted pastries mingyu bakes up.

you turn and walk in to mingyu singing along to the radio as he finishes up decorating his third batch of cupcakes for the day. in signature mingyu style, there’s frosting everywhere; he may be a good baker but he’s a messy one.

he grins at you, wiping frosting off his cheek before tilting his head and frowning at your stiff expression. “is something wrong?”

“the window shopper’s back,” you simply say, gritting your teeth and biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t end up yelling in frustration.

mingyu sighs before wiping his hands on a nearby towel and fixing his posture, slapping his biceps to seem bulkier than he already is. “okay then. it’s time for operation scarecrow, isn’t it?”

you nod at him seriously before holding the curtain separating the kitchen and the front open for him, giving a clear view of the opposite light pink wall. (mingyu always corrects you when you call it that, saying “it’s rose quartz, for god’s sake!”)

mingyu walks by you with the scariest expression he can muster and falters as he takes a step out, looking out to the front door. he turns back to you, confused. “there’s no one here. i guess he left.”

you go out to join your boss, and let out a silent scream at the lack of customers, annoyed at the fact that he got away again.

operation scarecrow hasn’t worked yet—a fancy way of saying that mingyu intimidates the window shopper to get the hell out of his shop—because the damn guy never stays around long enough.

mingyu rolls his eyes in amusement before coming over and patting your head, getting leftover frosting on you. “it’s okay! we’ll get him next time, partner.”

you can’t help but huff out a breath to calm yourself down at mingyu’s smile. “wait, did you get frosting on me? mingyu! what—” you’re cut off when mingyu races into the back, and holds the curtains closed so you can’t tell him off.

“mingyu! this isn’t fair!”

you’re running late, and barely surviving on two coffees since you woke up in a rush after helping mingyu the night before finish up a huge order for, funnily enough, the university you’re making your way hurriedly to now.

you get in the lecture hall just as the professor makes his way up to the podium, and pick a random seat in the middle to get comfortable in, the class already starting; professor kim has a habit of droning on and on about things that appear on his tests, according to the school forums, so you can’t miss anything he says.

you don’t notice the people next to you until the professor tells everyone to take a break after he goes through the first set of slides, and you look up to see a red haired man beside you and next to him is…oh my god. it’s the damn guy you’ve been looking for, peering over his glasses down at his laptop.

you smile politely at the guy closest to you first, introducing yourself. thankfully, your excitement at finding the window shopper is disguised as one stemming from potentially making a new friend. he grins at you before fixing his sweatband. “i’m seungkwan! and this is my friend,” he leans back so you can see the man beside him properly, “hansol.”

“you can call me vernon though,” hansol—vernon, you suppose—says without looking up from the screen in front of him.

you stare at him for a second, giddy on the inside because you finally have a name to the face you’ve seen way too often in the past weeks. since vernon hasn’t looked up, you’re guessing he doesn’t know it’s you yet, and you’re thankful for that—you can’t have him running off on you before exacting revenge, can you?

you excuse yourself from talking about the course work with your new acquaintances, and pull out your phone to text mingyu excitedly.

you ❙

KIM MINGYU.

i found him.

mingoowner ❙

not the full name lol

???

you ❙

THE SHOPLIFTER

HAHAHA WE GOT HIM NOW

mingoowner ❙

OH that’s great!

lmk details when you come for your shift later

oh also where’d you put the egg substitute? i can’t find it 😭

you ❙

should be in the second cupboard to the left of the sink

mingoowner ❙

okay found it thanks

i’ll see you later ;)

you put your phone on top of your notebook, and notice seungkwan staring at you with a smirk on his face. “ohohoho, does our new friend have a partner?” he says, singing the last word.

vernon pauses as he types, giving seungkwan a weird look before finally noticing you.

he blinks at you, the same expression on his face as always, as if he’s daydreaming all the time. he breaks eye contact, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, causing seungkwan to jump a little at the contact. “it’s not our place to ask that seungkwan, we just met them.”

huh. you suppose he’s a decent guy after all—or at least abides by social norms.

seungkwan grumbles under his breath about vernon being no fun, and smiles at you sheepishly. “sorry if that was too much. you are cute though, so i wouldn’t be surprised if you did have a partner! right, vernon?” seungkwan nudges his friend, who’s already back to his work.

vernon nods without looking up, but his face seems brighter than before. eh, it’s probably just the blue light emitting from the screen he’s staring lasers into. (when did blue light turn someone’s face more red though?)

you laugh and shake your head, your attention back to seungkwan—you don’t notice how vernon looks at you through the corner of his eye, and that his eyes crinkle a little when yours do.

“no, i don’t have a partner. i was just texting…” you shoot a cautious glance at vernon before mumbling, “my boss at the bakery i work at.”

vernon tenses slightly as seungkwan looks at you in admiration, and claps you on the back in approval. “wow, you’ve got a job at a bakery? that’s so cool!” seungkwan winks at you, continuing. “you should let us have a discount because we’re your friends, right?”

you look at the red haired man in front of you in astonishment. you just met each other? why is he…so friendly already, as if you’ve known each other for ages? you're not lonely at school; you have friends from other classes but…maybe being friends with seungkwan won’t hurt, especially because he seems to be besties with the guy you’ve been hunting for the past month or so.

you roll your eyes before nodding, looking pointedly at vernon. “yeah, if you guys come by and actually buy things, i’ll give you a discount!”

vernon flinches slightly at your words, caught off guard. seungkwan looks at vernon before he seems to realize something, his hand hitting his friend’s shoulder excitedly.

“OH MY GOD, IS THIS—” seungkwan only goes so far before vernon cuts him off with a slap over his mouth with an apologetic expression on his face—wow, this is the most expressive you’ve seen him.

“sorry, he can be a bit…loud at times,” vernon says in your direction before glaring subtly at seungkwan, telling him to shut up before he spills too much.

you see them exchange another look before seungkwan pulls vernon’s hand away from his face, and smiles at you knowingly. “hey, do you work at pang! sweets?”

you nod, and vernon mumbles a few curses under his breath before pinching seungkwan’s thigh desperately, whose grin only becomes bigger.

“i’ll make sure i visit then!” seungkwan says. when the man beside him clears his throat, seungkwan adds on with a smirk, “well, with vernon, of course. he would hate me if i didn’t take him with me because he has such a huge—”

“sweet tooth!” vernon yells, not letting seungkwan finish his sentence, his exclamation catching the attention of everyone in the hall.

“well, vernon, is it? it’s…nice to know your preference in food but we really should be covering this next topic instead,” professor kim says with a raised eyebrow, moving back to the front and putting the next set of slides on the screen for everyone—right, you’re still in class.

seungkwan giggles under his breath as vernon rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics. he glances over at you, analyzing your confused expression before letting out a breath in relief. you don’t know anything, do you? he prefers it that way, at least until he’s ready.

“hey, seokmin! what’ll you have today?” you ask the regular in front of you, now at your second home.

“oh, just my usual, thanks!” seokmin smiles at you brightly as he slides a crisp bill over to pay.

despite only knowing him through mingyu, you clicked with seokmin easily when you first met, and have since made sure to remember his order, considering he visits quite often.

you ring him up, pull out a pizza bun from the display case in front of him, and give it to seokmin with extra napkins, like always. you call out to mingyu in the back when you take inventory of what’s left to be displayed. “gyu, we got any more croissants? there’s only three outside.”

mingyu brushes aside the curtains with a flourish as he walks to where you are. you wait patiently to make his way to you as he waves to his imaginary fans, even though there’s no one to wave to other than you and seokmin—tuesday afternoons aren’t usually busy. you’re used to his dramatics, having worked with him for a while now but seokmin still claps in admiration, as if he isn’t a musical actor himself.

mingyu brushes his bangs back before smiling when he’s in front of you. “you called?”

you stare at him silently, pointing to the croissants on display. “we need more, your highness.”

mingyu scoffs before going into the back once more and bringing out a tray of fresh ones, and he squats down to place them meticulously on the wooden tray for displaying, relying on seokmin to tell him if he’s doing it right.

mingyu doesn’t look at you when he speaks, focusing on placing a chocolate croissant on top of another. “so, you never explained what’s up with finding the window shopper.”

you snap your fingers, suddenly remembering that you forgot to tell him, and start talking rapidly. “okay so basically, it turns out he’s in my class? like the one with professor kim, and he looks like some sort of nerd with his glasses on? like it’s cute but i didn’t expect that from him.”

mingyu and seokmin exchange a look through the glass separating them, and seokmin advises mingyu to sprinkle sugar on the pastry on the edge on the tray eventually, and mingyu agrees before they nod in unison for you to continue.

“and so i made a new friend i guess? his name is seungkwan, he’s sweet and i think they’re besties? they gave off that vibe, and to be honest…the guy, vernon—or hansol, or whatever! he seems like a nice enough guy? i mean, he was decent and maybe…he’s just really indecisive or something.”

seokmin laughs wholeheartedly at your conclusion—he’s filled in on the drama, of course; you always complain about this mystery guy whenever he comes by—and mingyu gets up, putting the now empty tray onto the counter, making you groan at how you’ll have to clean it up later.

“i—i thought you hated this guy?” mingyu says your name in disbelief, holding your shoulders and staring into your eyes. “have you fallen in love or something and that’s why you’re switching sides so fast? cause this is…not very normal of you.”

you stare at him, pushing his hands off you lightly before laughing, and the two guys in the shop join you before they get weirded out by how long you continue. seokmin says your name uncertainly before stage whispering to mingyu, “i think they’ve gone mad!”

you stop laughing maniacally at this before gasping loudly at your friend’s accusation. “no, i haven’t! i haven’t fallen in love or anything either lol.”

your friends look at each other slowly and mingyu stutters on his words, as he puts his hand on your shoulder again, mostly to ground himself as seokmin looks on with horror. “did you…did you just say lol out loud? like—like the letters out loud?”

you pause, realizing you’ve slipped up, and maybe your friends are right. you’ve gone mad, lost your sanity even. over a man? you put your head in your hands, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. when vernon first came into the bakery, four monday mornings ago, with his leather jacket and pushed back hair? was it when you saw him wearing a varsity jacket earlier, his glasses perched on his nose as if they’d been made to fit him? you have no idea.

seokmin looks down at his cold bun and then at the two of you, this time not even trying to soften his words. “yup, they’ve gone mad.”

“oh also, can one of you warm this up once they’re done with their mental breakdown? it’s cold,” seokmin adds on, pouting when mingyu shoots him a sharp glare.

after your…madness the other day, you can’t even look at vernon for more than a few seconds.

seungkwan definitely knows something is up; you’ve only known each other for a little bit but he’s in tune with your body language already, which is why he invited you to get coffee with him in class earlier. of course, he had invited his best friend but vernon had declined, saying something about how he needed to finish an assignment—even though he’d never say it, he was slightly disappointed that he couldn’t spend time with you outside of class for once.

seungkwan animatedly recounts his day to you as you walk to the coffee shop together, and you order quickly. he insists on paying for you and you relent when his whines cause the other customers to look at the two of you in confusion. you’re about to sit down at a small table inside the falling for u cafe when your phone dings multiple times.

pizza bun ❙

ummm mingyu did something weird…

he told me to text you cause he says that only you know how to tame the oven?? whatever that means 😭

you ❙

WHAT

IM ON MY WAY RN

SEOKMIN WATCH MINGYU DON'T LET HIM TOUCH ANYTHING.

pizza bun ❙

OKAY GOT IT BOSS 🫡

you hurriedly put your phone in your pocket before explaining quickly. “my boss is gonna set the bakery on fire, i have to go, i’m so sorry!”

you run to pang! which is thankfully only half a block away, leaving a dazed seungkwan behind.

“KIM MINGYU WHEN I FIND YOU—oh,” you yell as you walk in, quieting with an apology when you find startled customers sitting at the tables inside.

seokmin peeks his head out when your voice echoes off the walls, and waves you in quickly, updating you on what exactly happened. “so basically, i think he accidentally whacked the side of the oven with his whisk while he was trying to make meringue, and then he got water in his meringue bowl, so now he’s…” seokmin gestures towards the bakery owner as you draw closer, who’s crouching on the ground, a mixing bowl held protectively in his hands. “he’s like this.”

mingyu looks up when he notices the two of you, and pouts. “i made a dent in the oven…”

you close your eyes, trying to control the urge to tell mingyu off.

“mingyu,” you start, leaning down to give him a hand so he can get up and face you at his full height. “you are a strong, wonderful man but OH MY GOD GYU, I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL AFTER LAST TIME!” you yell, reaching up to pull his ear down as you scold him.

“last time” was when mingyu had somehow dented the old oven, and you had to replace it because it was just that bad—somehow all the buttons stopped working when you pressed them, and he had to pay for a new one, which you had now.

mingyu yelps out in pain as you pull him down more, and calls out to seokmin for help, not realizing that his so-called friend went back to his table to finish up his pizza bun for the day.

you let go of his ear when you realize the customers may be able to hear you and speak in an authoritative whisper. “you will not touch anything for the time being. i’ll call up the repair people because someone,” you give him a look, making the bakery owner flinch, “has made sure that they know pang! sweets on a first name basis.”

you turn and walk out without looking at the pitiful man behind you, plastering a smile so the customers don’t think anything is wrong—the walls are thin; the couple near the counter heard everything and were trying to keep from laughing.

after a short call to the repairperson from last time, you look out to the sunny street and the people walking along the sidewalk, a familiar redhead in the mix—wait, is that seungkwan?

you squint to make sure, and the familiar figure waves through the window, dragging along…oh my god, he’s brought the window shopper.

a familiar twinkling from the bell attached to the door accompanies the two as they walk in, and seokmin gets up to greet them warmly, giving seungkwan a hug and a soft smile to vernon. he drags them over to where you are, and when you look at him confused, he explains. “oh, i know these two from before! i’m really close with seungkwan because the two of us and soonyoung—well, you wouldn’t know him because he’s always in his practice room but i’ll bring him over sometime—are best friends!”

seungkwan nods as vernon looks at you and waves, as if he hasn’t seen you for multiple weeks at this exact same spot—though he hasn't been coming ever since you formally met him. “hey.”

“…hey,” you reply, and seokmin and seungkwan exchange a wince at the awkward air surrounding the four of you—mingyu’s still sitting on the kitchen floor in timeout.

you busy yourself with making sure the counter is clean, inspecting the marble as if you hadn’t just cleaned it mindlessly while on call with the repair place as the three men talk.

“oh, isn’t it your birthday soon?” seungkwan says to vernon, loud enough for you to hear, and quickly corrects himself when seokmin clears his throat. “and yours too, of course, minnie.”

you raise an eyebrow. “they share a birthday?” seokmin nods and you continue. “that’s pretty cool actually! seokmin, you should’ve told me.”

seokmin only shrugs before grinning. “wait, you’re baking something for me like you did last year, right?” he lowers his voice to a whisper as he continues. “i know i’ve known mingyu for longer and should technically trust him more but like, i feel like your baking is a lot more…clean compared to his, you know?”

you nod before staring at vernon, who’s back to talking to seungkwan on the side about…bears? you don’t even know, and frankly, you’re not sure if you want to know.

maybe you should make something for him too, considering it’s his birthday and you know, you’re making something for seokmin anyway.

seokmin smirks as he follows your line of vision and moves to join his friends. “he’s allergic to peanuts by the way,” he nonchalantly says on his way, shooting you a wink before he drapes an arm over seungkwan’s shoulder.

well, one thing’s for sure: you’re not planning on making peanut butter cookies for the eighteenth.

mingyu would’ve been mad at you for sitting at the counter if you hadn’t closed already, it being past nine pm—actually, he couldn’t be mad at you anyway, considering how much you do for him.

he walks over to you scribbling ideas down in your notebook and crossing them out right after. well, so much for keeping his gift to you aesthetic.

so far, you had thought of nothing for vernon’s—and seokmin’s, of course—birthday gift. even though you don’t know him that well, you want to see him happy with a huge grin on his face like when he was talking to seungkwan in professor kim’s about chan, their friend, and smacked his best friend's shoulder, to seungkwan’s annoyance. you groan as you straighten your back, your spine aching from bending over to write.

mingyu pats your shoulder from behind and looks over at your list. “need any help?”

you turn to look at him, sighing deeply. “yeah. do you think i should text seungkwan to see if he knows anything?”

“seungkwan knows everything, trust me. but yeah, i think you should. maybe then you’ll be able to notice the cookies i baked just for you, my favourite worker.” mingyu teasingly says, giving you a wink before pulling out the small container of your favourite cookies, fresh from the oven that apparently, had nothing wrong with it despite the dent made on the outside.

you take a huge bite out of the one he hands you before taking out your phone to text the friend who’s on your mind—okay, maybe his friend is the one on your mind.

you ❙

hey kwannie <33

um do you know what kind of cookies vernon likes?

or like any type of treat at all that i can make at the bakery

kwannie 🍊 ❙

OH MY GOD I KNEW IT

someone’s got a crushhh

you ❙

i’m just asking in advance just in case he comes by !! and actually wants to buy things lol

kwannie 🍊 ❙

sure…🙄

anyway he likes choco cake and cheesecake

always see him munching on them after finals

oh he’s allergic to peanuts btw so be careful

wouldn’t want to hurt your bf before you’re official am i right 😓

you ❙

BOO SEUNGKWAN.

kwannie 🍊 ❙

yes this is he

you ❙

…no comment.

seokmin alr told me about the peanuts thing 🙏

okay thanks for the info ily <3

you put your phone down before sighing. you know what, that made sense; vernon always used to pay extra attention to mingyu’s phenomenal cheesecake and chocolate cake slices out front, as if he needed to memorize the placement of each particle on the wooden trays.

mingyu looks at you curiously and you show him seungkwan’s messages. “oh yeah, that makes sense. i say make chocolate cake cause seokmin will like it too! that way you’re only using one recipe—i'll lend you my book so you can look through it.”

okay, chocolate cake. you can do that. right?

you take a look at the time, and realize that it’s probably a good idea to go home, considering how late it is. you pack up your stuff quickly, and wave to mingyu as he locks up the shop.

“i’ll see you day after tomorrow, gyu! be safe!” you call out as you walk backwards towards the way home, and turn to face the lit up sidewalk…and the slightly menacing person walking towards you, with an all black outfit and hood up, a mask covering most of their face (also black of course, they have a theme going on).

you’re not too scared though because they’re walking normally—although a bit…uniformly, hands not moving from their position by their hips—and don’t seem to be under any influence, at least from what you can see. they also seem distracted by their phone and you can see their headphones on.

that doesn’t mean you don’t walk quickly, suddenly remembering all the stories of ghosts of previous university students haunting the grounds they stayed at before their passing.

as you pass them and let out a breath you had been holding before feeling a soft tap on your shoulder. you turn to face the person you saw before, and you see yourself stare back in their big brown eyes—wow, those are some nice eyelashes.

“hey, i didn’t know you were gonna be here,” they say, muffled enough by their mask so you can’t recognize their voice. you take a step back from them, clutching the straps of your work bag on your shoulder.

“i’m sorry, do i know you?” you say confused, taking another step back, and the person in front of you chuckles, taking off their mask.

oh god, of course it’s the man who’s been plaguing your thoughts. you smile awkwardly and wave. “oh…hi vernon.”

he raises his eyebrow as he smiles back, his voice soft as he calls your name. “hi…did you really think i was gonna hurt you or something?”

you nod your head seriously before gesturing to your surroundings: a barely lit entrance to the alleyway that leads to a small neighbourhood before you hands end up pointing at his mask. “have you seen where we are right now? also, this is an awfully suspicious get up, dude…i was kinda scared.”

vernon’s hands go back to the nape of his neck as he chuckles, embarrassed. “sorry ‘bout that. i just—i didn’t see you until you passed by because of the…” he trails off, realizing that what he was distracted by is a little too cute for the image he’s trying to build up to impress you.

you frown, and he finds you adorable as he clears his throat and mumbles, “cat videos i was watching.”

you sputter, moving forward to leave a hand on vernon’s shoulder to ground yourself as you laugh lightheartedly. “you—why are you so embarrassed by that?”

your eyes shine in the dim light the streetlamp over the two of you provides, and he can’t help but appreciate them for a few seconds before he looks away, his hand automatically going back up to his neck.

vernon laughs awkwardly before responding. “well, uh…i was worried it would ruin the whole ‘cool guy’ thing i’ve got going on, according to seungkwan.”

you raise your eyebrows before chuckling and vernon finds himself joining in, the two of you smiling at each other softly before you break eye contact and look away, the yellow light from above doing little to hide the red creeping up both your faces.

his phone dings multiple times before he takes it out of his jacket pocket and he sighs, showing you the contact name. “speak of the devil.”

you shrug before giving him a sneaky look. “well, you can’t keep him waiting, can you?”

vernon nods before he smiles at you shyly, clearing his throat. “hey, would you want to come over? we’re having a little get together actually.” he shakes the plastic bag in his other hand to bring attention to it—huh, you hadn’t noticed it before. “we’re having ice cream…” he sings, looking at you expectantly.

you yawn involuntarily and give vernon an apologetic look. “i think i’ll have to pass, sorry. i should probably go home and knock out for the rest of the night, it’s been a long day.”

he agrees with you, nodding even though you can see how his face falls slightly—is this just because you’re paying way too much attention to the way his eyes smile more than his actual mouth? maybe.

vernon sends you on your way home with a promise to text him, and inputs his number into your phone so you can actually contact him (he hopes you don’t notice his hands trembling just the slightest bit).

as soon as you enter the doorway of home sweet home, you toss your things to the side and grab your phone, sitting down on the couch in the living room giddily. you smile at his name in your contacts before debating on what to text him. you decide to introduce yourself first, making sure he can save your name as well.

you ❙

i made it home!

vernon ❙

sweet

we have an early class tomorrow so sleep well

i’ll see you in kim’s

you ❙

see you then vernon!

oh dear god, you feel so awkward. however, just the fact that he responded (and wished you a good sleep!) is enough to make you weak in the knees, and get up to your kitchen, texting mingyu for the recipes he mentioned earlier. as you look at the measuring equipment spread neatly on the counter, you take in a deep breath.

time to make the best chocolate cake vernon’s ever had in his life. (and seokmin!)

at first, he only wanted to see the selection of the fairly new bakery near campus.

it had good reviews online, and vernon expected it to be nice—which it is; his opinion isn’t different from the online forums he read in advance—and was pleasantly surprised by how much he could buy, considering that it was fairly priced as well.

he was leaning down to see the cinnamon rolls (maybe he could get one for seungkwan…he should ask) when he heard your voice for the first time. “do you need any help?”

he looked up and had to do a double take, disguising it as him seemingly making sure nothing was on his sleeve.

were all bakery workers supposed to be this cute?

vernon couldn’t help but freeze under your warm stare, and even though he knew you had a customer service smile on, he wanted to know what your real smile was like.

you had giggled awkwardly when he didn’t respond and he immediately stood up properly, hand rubbing the back of his scalp—seungkwan says it’s a habit vernon does when he’s nervous, and he’s probably right.

“oh, uh…i’m good, thanks,” he says quietly, looking at the floor instead of your face, which was suddenly too bright to look at.

thankfully—well…vernon did want to look at your face more but it was probably better when you moved away from him, satisfied with his response, and started to wipe the counter, making sure the slightly dirty spots were clear enough to see your face in—the same face he was staring way too much at.

vernon brought his attention back to the pastries in front of him but his mind quickly wandered to…well, you.

oh my god, is this what they call love at first sight or something? he shook his head, and your head snapped up at the motion to look at him.

he mumbled under his breath, “no, no, it’s probably just being attracted or something, that’s all.”

so why did he keep coming back into the shop…just to see you?

“and that’s how vernon fell in love,” seungkwan says, giggling as vernon finishes telling his story of how he met you to seokmin.

“wow.” seokmin’s hands go up to cover his mouth as he gasps, surprised by vernon’s words. “that’s pretty romantic actually…”

seungkwan agrees, almost jumping up and down as they stand around seokmin’s kitchen island, where the small birthday party for seokmin and vernon—affectionately called the 218 bros—is being held.

vernon sighs, his face red, not being able to lie to his friends. “yeah, yeah…whatever seungkwan said.”

seokmin takes out his phone, looking at it thoughtfully before at vernon. “should i call mingyu to tell him to close the bakery earlier so they can be here before we cut the cake?”

“no need. they’re not working today, so i think they’re just a little late,” vernon says, shaking his head.

and he’s completely right because you’re rushing to pack the treat you’ve made him in time to leave with mingyu, who swears he’ll leave you behind if you take more than five more minutes.

“but gyu!” you whine, balancing your phone in between your ear and your shoulder before making sure you don’t get frosting all over your clothes. “you can’t leave me, i’m your only employee!”

mingyu sighs over the phone before pausing. “hey, do you think i should hire seungkwan instead of you? that’d be a nice change.”

you snort, taking the two large boxes in your hands and putting them down so you can lock your door. “you could never replace me, and you know it.”

mingyu hangs up as you make your way to his backseat to deposit your gifts and grins when you settle into the passenger seat beside him.

“yeah, yeah…” he rolls your eyes as you put your phone into your pocket, pausing when you see a notification from one of the men of the hour.

vernon ❙

hey are you on your way?

we’re gonna cut cake soon

wait nvm we don’t have the cake

you ❙

yeah i’m almost there!

just got a little late, me and mingyu are on our way

vernon ❙

sweet me and seokmin will meet you out front if you need help ?

apparently the cake is with you guys

you ❙

yeah sure! thanks :D

vernon ❙

of course :)

you squeal, clutching mingyu’s arm as he looks at you before back at the road immediately. “hey, i’m driving here!”

you apologize, and grin when you pull up to seokmin’s home. mingyu gets out and opens the backseat door as you wave to vernon, who’s out waiting for you on the lawn.

vernon moves to help mingyu with the boxes but the other man only winks as he carries the two cakes in his hands easily.

you smile as you join vernon on the grass and start to go in for a hug before pausing and patting him on the shoulder awkwardly. “happy birthday, vernon!”

he raises an eyebrow before patting your back in a similar way to mock you, and smiles. “thanks.” vernon gestures towards the front door. “should we go in?”

you’re greeted with a big hug from both seokmin and seungkwan as you enter, and vernon smiles at your excitement to see your friends before immediately deadpanning. he can’t get caught, especially not by seungkwan—he would be teased forever.

seungkwan casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and smirks at vernon’s slightly clenched fist before saying your name loudly. “did you really make the cakes all by yourself? wow, that’s so impressive, they look so good!”

you nod sheepishly, a small blush forming on your cheeks as vernon blinks and claps you on the back, subtly replacing seungkwan’s position beside you. “wow, that’s really cool of you. i appreciate it a lot, dude.”

you grin at him, and vernon doesn’t even notice how his friends scooch away to marvel at your sweet creations in the kitchen because he’s too busy focused on the way your eyes are somehow brighter in the lit entryway of his friend’s home.

“vernon?” you call out concerned, waving a hand in front of his face. “you there?”

he blinks, and his hand goes back up to the spot on his neck that it always does. “uh, yeah, i’m here.”

you smile at him again, and he’s entranced. “right, so the cakes have a ton of chocolate, and i didn’t know what you and seokmin liked best so—!”

vernon immediately puts his hand around your back, shocked at how you almost fell while taking a step towards him. you wince, and he looks up, locking eyes with mingyu before he looks down at you, calling your name in a panic. “are you alright? did—did you twist your ankle?”

you groan, gripping onto vernon’s arm as you pull yourself up to stand on your right foot, as putting pressure on your left hurts.

you breathe heavily and look down at your foot, already seeing an angry red forming as your ankle swells underneath your sneaker.

“okay, okay, uh…” vernon thinks out loud for a second before calling over mingyu and telling him to start his car. he squeezes the arm he’s still holding, and gives you a nervous smile. “you’re gonna be alright, okay? um—i’m gonna take you to the hospital and we’ll be with mingyu and—”

he gets interrupted by seungkwan grabbing your other arm so they can help you walk out the door, and onto the lawn. seungkwan looks at you concerned as he helps you into the backseat of mingyu’s car, and to your surprise, vernon sits down in the seat beside you.

you’re not the only one surprised, as mingyu gapes at vernon through the rearview mirror.

“what?” vernon looks at the both of you weirdly before sighing. “come on, mingyu, we need to hurry!”

as mingyu pulls out of seokmin’s neighbourhood, you think you’re going mad, just like he said you were only a few weeks ago. you start to giggle incessantly, unable to stop even when vernon glances at you worriedly and pulls you into his shoulder so you’re supported.

“i—i’m so sorry,” vernon says suddenly, his knee bouncing up and down as he frowns at you. “this is all my fault.”

you stop giggling and frown as well, groaning in pain as you shift to face vernon better—god, this hurts.

“what are you talking about?” you ask vernon before another giggling fit comes on, and you manage to squeeze out, “i’m the one who went whoops! and fell down, not you!”

vernon stares at you, realizing that this…is probably just your body’s way of distracting yourself from the throbbing of your ankle, and he moves to remove your sneaker so that the nurses don’t struggle with it later.

you giggle again, and you try to push the wrinkle in between his eyebrows away, the adrenaline getting to you and making sure you have no self control at all. “the only thing you did to make me fall was stand there with your beautiful face—oh, and your long eyelashes and nice voice!”

vernon’s eyes widen and you can count every vein in them, coursing with the same liquid that’s now flooding his cheeks. “uh—i…”

your moment is ruined as mingyu sputters, trying to hold back his laughter, and vernon goes to look at him as he fails. wiping his tears, mingyu gestures to the building on the left, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and—oh, you’re at the hospital already.

to be completely honest, vernon doesn’t know what he’s doing here, sitting in the chair beside you, and listening to the person on the other side of the thin screen separating the beds in the emergency room. all he can do is stare at your intertwined hands as you sleep, the adrenaline high from before wearing off—thank god, because he doesn’t think he could take more of the cheesy pick up lines you’ve thrown at him.

he still can’t believe you said he was so beautiful, you fell for him—quite literally, as your swollen ankle shows it.

mingyu comes back, the necessary paperwork in his hands and pauses, raising an eyebrow in concern. “vernon? you’re really red, do you need to get checked out too?”

vernon raises the hand that’s not being held tightly by yours to his cheek, and realizes that his friend is right—he’s burning up, but he’s pretty sure that’s an after effect of your words, and not because he has a fever.

he shakes his head at mingyu, and the other man excuses himself to make a call to seokmin to explain, and vernon can hear seokmin and seungkwan screaming at mingyu through his phone speaker to the point where his friend’s phone is a good few inches away from his ear.

vernon squeezes your hand, and pushes a stray strand of hair back from your forehead to plant a soft kiss—hopefully, that would speed up your recovery and wake up sooner, like his own version of sleeping beauty.

it’s been a few weeks since you twisted your ankle—and basically ruined seokmin and vernon’s birthday party, though both of them don’t blame you for it—and you’re finally back at work, actually feeling useful for the first time since you got back from the hospital.

of course, mingyu’s a good boss, and a caring friend but that should be common knowledge, and he just about tied you down to the rolling chair he forced you into at the beginning of your shift, and he now makes sure to watch you so you don’t get up, not even once.

you sigh, cleaning the counter without thinking and wonder what the hell vernon thinks of you now.

apparently, according to mingyu at least, you were flirting with him on the way to the hospital, and vernon didn’t know how to respond at all. you groan, putting your head into your hands before the bell at the door tinkles, signalling a new customer.

“hi there, what can i—” you falter when you see…of course, it’s vernon. “hi!”

he nods at you in greeting, holding a bag in his hand as he comes up to the counter. “hi.”

you raise an eyebrow at vernon with a chuckle. “are you actually going to buy something for once, vernon?”

when he nods again, you’re surprised. does he mean he’ll no longer be a window shopper and actually contribute to the bakery?

he sputters, unable to hold his laugh in. “you…you have such a shocked look on your face, i’m sorry.”

embarrassed, you compose yourself, clearing your throat. “well, i didn’t expect you to upgrade from window shopper to actual shopper anytime soon, so i’m pleasantly surprised.”

“well…for that i have to make a purchase, right?” he smiles at you softly. “can i have a slice of cheesecake, please?”

you nod eagerly, and roll to where the slices are kept, taking one out carefully. as you put it in a paper bag for him, vernon fidgets nervously with the handles of the bag he’s holding, and you ring him up.

he pays with his card—and tips you generously; you shoot him a grateful smile. vernon puts the bag he brought earlier down on the counter to grab the one with the cheesecake and wipes his free palm on his jeans. “uh, that—that’s for you.”

you put your hand in the bag carefully and pull out a small box, opening it carefully as vernon watches you.

it’s a…cupcake? you pull a cupcake that’s a bit flat, and has something written on it with frosting. though you can’t tell what it says exactly, you make out a question mark at the end and look up at vernon. “uh…thank you? sorry, i can’t read what it says.”

vernon’s mouth turns into an o as his cheeks heat up, and now you’re even more confused.

“i um…” vernon says quietly before he blurts the rest of his sentence out. “i’m asking you on a date.”

your jaw drops open as he continues and by now, you both are a deeper shade of pink than the walls surrounding you.

“i’ve actually liked you for a while now.” vernon continues nervously with a chuckle, rubbing the nape of his neck as he looks down at his sneakers. “that’s why i kept coming back here, even though i couldn’t afford to buy anything—i was here for you.”

“i really like you too, vernon.” he looks up and smiles nervously at you, and you can’t help but grin. “and i’m happy we both feel the same way.”

vernon pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead, saying, “phew, i’m glad that’s over with.”

he folds the top of the paper bag holding his cheesecake and bites back another grin. “so…wednesday at six? i’ll pick you up if you’re working from here, and we can watch shrek or something at my place, so you can sit comfortably.”

you grin, taking vernon’s hand in yours gently. “i would love that.”

a/n (again): thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed and if you did, please tell me :D i would love to know <3 lots of love, moon.

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ihni · 21 days ago

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(On AO3 here)

~~~

Billy absolutely refuses to accept gifts.

This is annoying for several reasons, the main one being that giving little gifts to his boyfriend is one of Steve’s greatest joys in life. Or rather it would be, if said boyfriend would only shut up and take them. But oh no.

“What’s this shit, Harrington?”

Strange how Steve is always ‘Harrington’ when Billy is pissed.

Taking a deep breath, Steve prepares himself for the upcoming battle.

“It’s a shirt,” he says, simply, as if it’s obvious. Which it is.

“I can see that,” Billy says with disdain and holds the offending item out in front of him. “Why did I find it on my car seat?”

Here we go, Steve thinks. “Because I bought it for you,” he says, keeping his voice light. Before Billy can speak he adds, to make his intentions perfectly clear; “It’s a gift.”

Billy’s face twists into a grimace and the red fabric crinkles as he grips it in his fist. “I don’t need your charity, Harrington.”

“It’s not –“

“I can buy my own shirts.”

“I know, but –“

Billy pushes the shirt into Steve’s chest. “And anyway, I don’t want it.”

That is a blatant lie, and they both know it. Steve was with Billy at the mall and saw the way he looked at that shirt. Watched as he ran his fingers over the fabric, took the hanger off the rack, and then finally put it back, wincing, once he’d glanced at the price tag. Steve knows with one hundred percent certainty that this particular shirt is right up Billy’s alley and he knows that his boyfriend would love it, and wear it, and would have bought it himself if it had been cheaper.

But of course now, since Steve was the one who bought it, suddenly Billy doesn’t want it anymore. Because god forbid he accepts a goddamn gift from his boyfriend. Who can very well afford it by the way, thank you very much.

But while Steve thinks all of this, he doesn’t say any of it out loud. Because he knows that he’s not going to win this one. “Fine,” he says instead with a sigh, giving in. “I’ll return it.”

(He won’t. He’ll keep it, and then after long enough time has passed he’ll try to sneak it in among Billy’s belongings like it was always there, and hope it goes unnoticed. He’s succeeded before, twice, and that accomplishment may or may not have gone to his head. The back of his closet is now full of things meant for Billy.)

Anyway, this whole refusing-gifts thing. It’s annoying, is what it is, and it’s getting to be a problem. Spoiling the people closest to him has always been Steve’s way of showing that they’re important to him. And Billy is important – perhaps the most important.

Robin says that it’s a pride thing, and that Billy wants to prove that he’s independent – which is crazy, because he doesn’t have anything to prove to Steve. The guy moved out the same day he graduated, for fuck’s sake, into the shittiest little apartment Hawkins had to offer that he had somehow arranged to rent beforehand without telling anyone, and he’s currently working two jobs to be able to provide for himself and to save up for the future. He cleans his apartment when it’s needed, unashamedly goes to the laundromat once a week, and pays his own bills. No one with working eyes or ears can ever say that Billy Hargrove is not independent.

(Meanwhile, Steve is still living at home – but he’ll argue that his parents are so rarely there, so it’s almost like he’s living on his own – and is lucky enough that he doesn’t have to pay his own way. Which is just as well, really, because Family Video doesn’t actually pay that much. But that’s neither here nor there.)

Independence is, objectively, a good trait, but of course Billy doesn’t do anything in moderation. His stance on gifts has forced Steve to get … creative.

Once, when Steve had found the perfect present – a silver dagger earring with a tiny blue stone the exact color of Billy’s eyes – he didn’t even try to give it to him. He simply poked it through the hole in his pocket so that it fell to the asphalt when he walked ahead of Billy across the parking lot outside the dinner, and let Billy “find” it. Pretended to be disgusted as Billy excitedly picked it up from the ground and everything, even though on the inside, he was preening at Billy’s delight over his “find”.

See? Steve can be sneaky, when he wants to or when the situation demands it. And when it comes to showering his boyfriend with gifts, the situation definitely demands it.

Luckily, there is one thing that Billy will grudgingly accept even if he hasn’t bought it himself – one thing in the world that Steve can give him, that Billy won’t reject outright or start a fight about – and that thing is chocolate.

Expensive, luxury chocolate, to be specific. The kind that comes in golden paper boxes, or wrapped in cellophane, or packed in high-end tin containers with etched pictures of cities on the lid.

Billy won’t say no to a cheap chocolate bar bought at the gas station either, but that isn’t quite enough for Steve, who by now has a burning need to spoil Billy somehow. So, luxury chocolate it is.

It was an accident, when Steve first discovered this exception. Billy was spending the night – like he so often does when Steve’s parents aren’t home, because while he has his own place now, Steve’s bed is both more comfortable and big enough for the two of them – and they’d been bickering about what to make for dinner. Billy was cooking, because of course he was, and he’d been rifling through the cupboards looking for the fancy pasta when he’d emerged with a crinkled plastic bag that he’d apparently unearthed from the very back.

“What’s this?” he’d asked, frowning at the little brown lumps inside the bag.

Steve had taken one look at it and made a face. “Oh, chocolate biscotti. Mom bought them from Italy last year. Give me that, I’ll throw it out.”

Billy had looked positively offended at that, and cradled the bag to his chest. “Throw them out? Why?”

“Uh, because she bought them last year?”

That hadn’t seemed to deter Billy though, as he’d snuck one out of the bag and bit into it. Steve grimaced at the dry crunch of it, and took the opportunity to yank the bag out of his boyfriend’s hand while Billy was busy chewing and looking thoughtful.

“Disgusting,” Steve said as he threw the bag of stale old cookies into the trash can. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Billy had just grinned at him and thrown the last piece of biscotti into his mouth, eating that one too. Had even licked his lips, after, and eyed the trash can like he maybe wanted to try raiding it for more of the stale cookies. Steve was a good boyfriend though and hadn’t let him – had, in fact, distracted him quite competently – but he’d already seen the way Billy’s eyes lit up at the taste, and the next time he spoke with his mother, he asked if she would bring another bag home with her.

(She had been in France at the time, but she’d been happy to call the hotel she’d stayed at in Venice the last time she was there and arrange for a couple of bags of biscotti from the ‘cute little bakery down the street’ to be delivered halfway across the world, as well as bring back a veritable smorgasbord of baked treats from Paris.)

It was a game of trial and error for some time, while Steve tested his theory. Baked goods worked, although Billy seemed to favor cookies over buns and flaky things like croissants. Sweet flavors went over better than savory in general, which were hit and miss. But the real winner was the chocolate. All kinds, all flavors.

The first time Steve had brought out a box of chocolates (Swiss chocolate, purchased in France), he’d put it on the table during a Party movie night, for everyone to enjoy. (Billy rarely refused food when it was obviously meant to be shared, although he never ate anything until someone else had done so first.) It worked like a charm – under the cover of the dark and in the low light from the TV, Steve saw Billy reach for no less than five pieces of chocolate.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Steve had gotten two identical boxes of chocolate. Over the next couple of days, he sneakily filled up the first box with pieces from the second box, and made sure to leave it out on the table whenever Billy was over. And as it had been established to be a communal box of chocolates, Billy didn’t have any qualms about eating from it, which meant that Steve was repeatedly treated to the sight of Billy closing his eyes and smiling around a piece of chocolate, visibly enjoying each bite. It was a win-win; Billy got his sweets, and Steve got to provide for his impossible boyfriend.

Since then, Steve has made a point to ask his mother to bring home chocolate from all the places she visits, as well as ordered from several specialty shops outside Indiana. His mother is happy to provide, as she has always enjoyed shopping for the finer things in life. She no doubt thinks that Steve is using it to woo some girl.

Well, she is half right.

Steve thanks her every time she brings something home, and then he puts it away until his parents leave again, at which point he will come up with increasingly convoluted ways of making sure Billy gets to enjoy it.

“Oh, that? Yeah, mom brought it back from New York. I don’t really care for it, to be honest. It’s too sweet for me” and “My aunt gave this to me – her boss gave it to her for her birthday but like, she’s diabetic so she can’t eat it. You want it?” and “I don’t know why mom insists on buying sweets, she should know by now that I’m not big on them … But I don’t want to hurt her feelings, you know? So I just smile and accept them” and “I think I’m allergic. It’d be a shame to throw it out, though. You’d honestly be doing me a favor if you just took it with you.”

Billy, who is ordinarily too smart to fall for schemes like this, miraculously hasn’t caught on yet. (Or maybe he has, but plays along because deep down, he wants what Steve gives him. Steve prefers that theory.)

Of course, Steve has to continue his attempts of gifting his boyfriend with non-chocolate items as well, even though it’s mostly for show, because a) he doesn’t want Billy to catch on his strategy and also b) one of these days, he’ll get Billy to say yes.

He’ll wear him down soon, Steve is sure.

Until then, he’ll just feed Billy fancy treats and fill up the back of his wardrobe – maybe Billy will get a pretty red shirt for Christmas. It’d be rude, even for Billy, to refuse gifts on Christmas.

#no greater gift #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #like NO ANGST AT ALL this is not usual for me #fluff #ihni writes

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thef1diary · 5 months ago

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Omg I'm so ready for the dirty drabbles!! I have so many boss!Daniel thoughts (thots?) especially with the holidays. You two at the holiday party and he can't keep his hands off you under the table. Him making you stay late one day because "there's just so much work this time of year" just so he can fuck you in the middle of the working space. Having you pinned across his desk on top of his important papers, him coming up while you're at your cubicle and making you focus on your work while he touches you, making you wear a vibrator while you're giving an important presentation to the board. Just so many thots rent free in my head

-🐍

— hi nonnie!! I’m so glad you’re excited for dirty drabbles! I love ALL of these reqs, and I’m going to eventually write them all—in separate posts, one thot at a time. The vibrator one tho…🐱🦋 that’s the one I was tempted to write first 🤭 enjoy! 18+ content below

You stood at the head of the long table, palms flat against the sleek surface as you tried to focus on the glowing projector screen behind you. The boardroom was silent, save for the click of the slides and the faint hum of the projector. You were poised, collected—at least on the surface.

But beneath the tailored pencil skirt and crisp blouse, a discreet little device buzzed against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body at the whim of the man seated at the end of the table. Your boss.

Daniel lounged in his chair, right across from you, a pen in hand, as if he were taking notes. But the faint smirk curling at the corner of his lips and the subtle flick of his thumb against his phone screen told a very different story.

All eyes were on your presentation—except Daniel’s. He was watching the way your thighs pressed together, the slight tremble in your knees every time his thumb pressed down on his screen, adjusting the intensity.

A low pulse started as you introduced the first slide, enough to keep your breath hitching but not enough to undo you. You gripped the edge of the table, shifting on your feet, and continued with a tight smile.

“…As you can see, this quarter’s growth…”

A sharp, sudden increase in vibration nearly had you doubling over. Your voice broke on the last word, turning into a breathy gasp. A few of the board members glanced up curiously, but you cleared your throat and forced a tight laugh, pretending to adjust your notes.

You would’ve glared at him if it weren’t for the numerous pairs of eyes on you, but you settled for an exaggerated smile directed at him. He leaned back, legs spread casually under the table, his phone in hand as though he were scrolling through emails. No one else would suspect a thing.

You pressed on, your voice trembling slightly as you neared the final slide. The vibrations grew stronger, sharper, and your thighs clenched involuntarily as your soaking wet panties stuck to your pussy. You bit down on your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood, but a soft, stifled moan still escaped your lips, barely masked by the sound of the projector fan.

The room seemed to blur around you, the murmurs of approval from the board distant as you fumbled through your conclusion. Daniel dialed the intensity down just before you completely unraveled, leaving you teetering dangerously close to the edge but never letting you cum, not yet.

When the meeting finally ended and the board members filed out, you stayed frozen at the table, your body trembling with frustration and need.

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice low and authoritative, sending a shiver down your spine.

Within seconds you were pulled onto his lap, his hands settling on your thighs.

“Good job,” he murmured against your ear, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. Then, without warning, he tapped his phone screen again, setting the vibrator to its highest intensity.

A broken moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as your hips bucked against him. Your hands clung to his shoulders, desperate to cum, for control you didn’t have.

“Sir,” you whimpered, breathlessly, barely audible over the pounding in your ears.

Daniel’s grip tightened on your waist, guiding you as you grind down on him, the fabric of his trousers rough against your sensitive covered cunt. “That’s it,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Go on. You’ve earned it.”

want more boss!daniel? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 10 months ago

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logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."

#danny speaks to the void #wolverine x reader #wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine blurb #logan howlett blurb #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine brain go brrrrr

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synvil · 5 months ago

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Interested // VID : 002 » Viewing Pleasure (( Camgirl! Series ))

a/n : ahhh thank you for the love and support ! <3 feel free to leave thoughts, comments or suggestions, either in the comments or my ask box! :3 picture found online.

btw i can’t fucking think of titles for the life of me.

synopsis : things between you and jj get a little tense. meanwhile another person seems to grow infatuated with you and you’re getting a little excited for your next stream?

agh i’m so bad at titles and summaries ;-;

Vid : 001 // Vid : 003

viewing pleasure m.list

“Add to cart~!”

You squeal in excitement, unable to contain your joy as you make your first purchase online after your payment came in from your first stream.

"Haha, I can't believe it. I can even afford to get same-day delivery."

JJ stands at a distance, watching you with his arms crossed and his lips in a thin line. His eyes are unable to leave your form, constantly trailing up and down your body, always finding itself on the round of your ass. He bites his lip, attempting to be discreet as he taps his fist on the surface of the countertop a few times before clearing his throat. "So, I assume it went well."

“You kidding?” You whirl your head towards him with shining eyes. “It went way better than i thought. I’m so relieved.”

JJ gives a bitter smile, his brow twitching slightly. “So you made some decent money then. That means you’re not going to stream anymore?” He says, making his way over, pulling at his shirt to tuck it over his pants in hopes it covers the visible erection.

“Hmm.. no, I might continue.” You say, watching as he takes a seat beside you, and his brows furrow. “What? I thought you made enough money for rent.”

“well, yeah, but I like being able to make so much money.. and I had a lot more viewers for my first stream than expected.” You reason, setting your phone down after making the purchase. “I mean, I don’t have to stress about finding another job that pays me so little, and with streaming, I can work any time, any day.”

JJ sits up straight as he narrows his eyes at your reasoning. Being able to make money fast was nice but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your body online. “[Name], what about all the creeps online? Who knows what kind of weird old perverts were saving videos and pictures of you?”

Your frown becomes evident on your face, but part of you knew he was right. Streaming wasn’t the safest activity and you didn’t want to sound greedy, but having that much money was more important to you right now. You’d only keep going to make enough to save for bills and stuff, while also saving enough for your own miscellaneous purchases. But..

“I know you’re right but i’ll be okay, J. Besides..” a flush overcomes your cheeks as you shyly look away, feeling embarrassed to admit this to your best friend.

“I kinda liked the attention.. It’s nice hearing and reading everyone complimenting me and liking what they saw. I might do more, but I won’t go crazy with it. I’ll only do it until I make enough in savings.”

JJ hitches a breath, his eyes widening when he hears your confession. It wasn’t anything serious but the way his cock twitches and his heart pounds makes him look away. “You..like showing off your body?”

“Y-Yeah..” You nod in confirmation, pink tints on your cheeks as you look away.

The blonde swallows a bit, holding his breath to gain some control as he turns away. “Shit.”

“JJ?”

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” He abruptly stands and walks off, heading out of your house and to the door, shutting it behind him as he mounts his truck and drives away.

Your taken back and wonder if your confession drove him away, sighing softly and feeling a bit of guilt filling you up as you turn back to your phone and try to distract yourself.

“Who would’ve thought?..”

Rafe found himself repeatedly looking through your photos on your social media, in disbelief that you were on Kildare Island with him. And it pissed him off knowing how close you were with Maybank, seeing the many pictures of the two of you together.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed you two were together.

But how has he never seen you before..? He’s practically grown up with JJ yet he can’t seem to recall ever seeing someone like you around.

Surely he’d remember someone so fucking attractive.. his thumb can’t seem to swipe away from your bikini photos.

Before he could admire any more, Topper sends him a text.

‘Bro, were you watching the link I sent you? Holy shit, she’s so hot. What I wouldn’t give to get a chance to fuck her.’

Rafe scoffs at the text as he rolls his eyes. Of course he noticed Topper's user donating money to your stream as well. Topper was really irritating sometimes. It seems all he could care about was sex and money. You definitely seemed like the type of person who was very sweet, innocent and pure.. someone who he could easily destroy and corrupt from how petite you were, as he hovers over you and slowly travels his hands down to your cunt, the same pussy you were rubbing just yesterday and—

“What the fuck?”

Rafe lets out a shaky breath, catching himself and his thoughts, unaware of his hardened cock in his tight jeans, the desperation to be freed evident from how painful it was becoming.

He brings his hand down and palms himself for a moment, doing anything to relieve himself before he grunts and pulls his hand away. There was no way he was going to be jerking off to someone he didn’t even know existed until now.

“Shit, I need some fucking air.” And despite the restricting pain of his jeans against his cock, he swipes his keys off his desk and heads out, taking his bike on a ride.

"Ugh, so damn stubborn." JJ plops down on his couch, dragging a hand over his face as he inhales heavily. He pulls out his phone and finds himself scrolling through social media. The blonde was sitting at home, frustrated at your insistence to keep streaming. Surely you made enough to cover rent for the next month or so, so why did you want to keep streaming for everyone to see?

It fills him to the brim with jealousy. No one should be looking at you in that way. Much less, a particular kook.

Shit, he was so distracted by you that he forgot what happened during your stream. "Fucking Cameron.. the nerve of that bastard." He scowls, conflicted about what to be more annoyed at. You continuing to stream or Rafe Cameron being one of your viewers.

“Delivery!”

Pounding on the door snaps JJ from his thoughts as he looks up from his phone, thumb instinctively shutting off the device to hide the fact that he was sifting through the photos of you two together. “Comin’!”

With a sigh, the blonde runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way out of his room towards the door. He opens the front door to see a familiar man behind the screen and he feigns a smile. “Rich, always a pleasure.”

Growing up on Kildare meant a lot of the residents knew each other, including the delivery man, who had a mutual disliking towards JJ, grimacing at the sight.

But JJ merely just shares a playful grin. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile, y’know. Afraid you’ll get wrinkles?” He jokes and the man rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Maybank. You’re lucky I don’t throw your damn package in the ocean.”

JJ gasps at that, widening his eyes childishly. “Well, that’s not very environmentally friendly!” He laughs as he takes the box from his hands. “But anyway, what the hell is this? I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it’s not my problem now.” Rich hands over the device and pen for JJ’s signature. JJ fiddles with the box, inspecting it curiously before taking the device to sign. “What is it?”

Grunting in annoyance, the delivery man swipes the device from Jj’s hands. “The fuck should I know? Piss off, Maybank.”

Scoffing at the rudeness, JJ turns around and kicks the door shut with his foot before walking over to the counter in the kitchen. He finally sees the address line on the box and recognizes his house address but the name piques his interest.

“[Name]?” He murmurs, confusion lacing his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “Must’ve forgot to change it from last time..” He taps along the screen before reaching your contact.

« [Nickname] / Princess 😘😍 »

Out of curiosity, as he’s typing away a message, he goes over to a drawer and pulls out a pocket knife before heading back over to the package. It must've been the package you had ordered earlier.

‘Hey, a package came to my house with your name on it. Think it got sent here by mistake. Want me to drop it off?’

Once sent, JJ sets aside his phone and cuts through the top of the box with ease, expecting it to be some clothes or such you bought for yourself.

But the item inside was completely unexpected.

JJ’s mouth becomes dry as he attempts to wet it by swallowing whatever he could as he looks inside.

Inside the box was a remote controlled, vibrating toy.

“D-Did she buy this for her next stream..?” JJ breathily exhales, his jaw clenching at the way his hardening cock twitches at the imagination of you rubbing the vibrating wand over your clit, and the possible lewd noises you’d illicit.

“Fuck..” Maybe another stream couldn’t hurt. He was conflicted. He couldn’t let you do this on camera, but he’d be damned if the thought didn’t excite him. His mind reverts back to your words.

‘“I kinda liked the attention..”

“Y-You liked showing off your body?”

“Yeah..”’

JJ clears his throat as he closes back up the box, finding a roll of tape in his drawer and securing it back up before setting it somewhere else for you.

As he sets it down, his phone buzzes from a text from you.

‘DON’T OPEN IT JJ! I’ll come by and pick it up soon’

JJ grunts at the message and exhales sharply, turning off his phone. “Too late..” He mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, J. I’ll try and stop by later tonight. Need anything while I’m out?” You take the box from his hands, JJ seemingly uncharacteristically avoiding your direct gaze. Regardless, he shakes his head as he clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms. “Hey- So, you’re streaming today?”

You carry the box towards your car, visibly relieved to see it untouched and smile lightly before turning to JJ. “Yeah, why? You gonna try and talk me out of it again?”

“No-! No-“ He clears his throat again when he realizes his outburst and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Uh, just- good luck, y’know. I’m sure it’ll be great. And hey- we can reschedule tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You set the box on the bottom of your car in the back and furrow your brows at his words. “Thanks. But we’ll see. I should be able to come over on time if I’m not busy, but i’ll let you know.”

“Of course.” The blonde manages a smile, sending you finger guns before he waves you off. “Drive safe.”

Entering your car, you wave goodbye before pulling out and driving towards the Yacht Club, on the border of the Cut and Figure Eight.

“Dude, you should’ve watched til the end of the stream. It was amazing.”

Topper’s voice is heard when Rafe Cameron steps onto the large dock, walking past various other patrons on the benches and tables, and stepping up to the bar where Topper and Kelce stood.

Kelce shakes his head at Topper’s gushing. “Nah, man, streamers aren’t my thing. I mean, why would I spend so much on some girl i don’t even know and won’t even get to touch.” Kelce notices Rafe approaching and nods at him in acknowledgment. “Hey, you agree with me right?”

“Agree with what?” Rafe says as he stands beside them and Topper scoffs lightly. “You watched the link I sent you right? God, she’s so hot. You should’ve seen what she did before she ended her stream. I bet she’s streaming again today.”

Rafe barely manages to hide his eye roll, his hands clenching into fists. If he was holding a glass, he was almost sure he’d crack it. Something in him stirred the more Topper talked about you, and it made him angry. He had to maintain his self control before he punched the shit out of him.

But it made Rafe confused. Why was he so angry every time Topper opened his stupid fucking mouth? He had the exact same thoughts about you.

Was it because another man was talking about you? It wasn’t like you were his. He hardly even knew you. Is it jealousy?

Tch. Rafe Cameron, jealous? He hasn’t felt jealous since years ago, when his then still alive father was always favoring his sister over him. Rafe Cameron was not jealous.

He barely pays attention to Kelce and Topper, and instead catches a familiar voice nearby.

“Thanks, Sofia. It was actually more helpful than I thought, so thanks for telling me about it.”

“No problem, [Name]. I actually watched it last night, you were great.” Her playful wink makes you laugh a bit bashfully and embarrassingly as you wave it off. “I’m still a bit shy but I think what I bought today will help me a little more this time.”

Sofia slides something across the counter for you and you send a grateful smile as you pick it up. “Thanks. Good luck with the rest of your shift. I should be free this weekend if you’re down to hang out.”

“Actually, this weekend was when I was planning to stream.” She says apologetically and you only grin at her. “I’ll be watching you then. I could learn a thing or two.”

You both share giggles with one another before she’s called somewhere else and waves goodbye to you. You wave farewell and take the item off the counter before turning away.

But as soon as you do so, you meet eyes with someone, who’s staring intensely at you with parted lips, almost like they couldn’t believe you were standing before them.

Giving an awkward smile, you pull yourself away from the counter and turn to leave, heading back to your car.

“Time to go.”

a/n : so ima be honest, i didn’t fully watch every episode of obx, so idk how completely accurate the places are and the availability of pogues being able to just enter these establishments, so im changing it up to just being, whoever’s got the money can come in, even though im sure a lot of country clubs and such are invitations only.

anyhoo hoped you all enjoyed! i’m actually tryna figure out how to get more involvement with Rafe and how to get him introduced- like should he walk up to her or dm her orrr ya. any suggestions would be lovely!! <3

spoiler : i have a plan to invite one of them on stream or one to practice off camera ;)

AH SHIT I POSTED WITHOUT THE TAGS CAN PPL SEE THIS PLS

taglist : @haruvalentine4321 @lilithblackkk @sleepiibunniiii @kiiyomei @mariamadison6-blog @livinobx @doesnt-care

unedited nor proofread.

#jj x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #outer banks jj #outerbanks jj #vp series ˖◛⁺⑅♡#obx rafe #outer banks rafe #obx jj maybank #obx jj x reader #obx jj #jj maybank #rafe cameron

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