#also I got a hired for a pretty good job today

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

#pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #pain hustlers #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

#whdbehsh i literally screamed when you followed me lexi #and then showed it to everyone i’m friends with in steddie #and was like ‘well now i GOTTA write an omegaverse fic’ #snd they were like ‘well you don’t gotta’ #and i was like ‘no i do. and i will.’ #and then i did 😌 #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #eventually eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #pre steddie #tw a/b/o #tw omegaverse #oh heck also #mentions robin buckley #stuck in your throat #unsteddie writing

[bagels-withcreamcheese]

where da problem at? I’m spinnin off these percs like I’m a laundromat. Be fah-REEEEEE

#MILO GET YOUR ERA-AHAH IN THE HOUSE BOY #LOOOL this is the only thing I’ve been able to think about for the past few hours agshdhdhd my friend sent it to me right before my shift #I’m jus like. era-ahah #also I survived said shift but I did have me a good long cry in the basement around 8pm #like I felt it creeping up since 7 I had tears in my eyes and everything #my coworkers kept asking u good??? like yeah!!! awesome !!!! couldn’t be better!!! #after the third person asked I was like ok that’s it I can’t hold it back anymore #went and sat behind the office space where the owner usually is but he was gone so I had the whole area to myself to cry as loud as I wanted #felt good. got myself together and went to finish off the last few hours of my shift. it was fine #I just want one shift at this stupid job where I don’t break out in tears at some point 😡😡😡 #the good news is that I can pick up my meds tomorrow 😌 so excited to feel Normal again. #I know it’ll take a few days before I’m feeling like myself again but yassss the fact that I got them filled is a win. so slay. #also they hired this new girl in the kitchen today stopppp she’s so cute. #when she was leaving I was already in my car and she like ran up o my window and asked to borrow a lighter from me #I was like…….y..yes…..u can keep it…. and she was like AWWW really you’re so sweet etc and I was just flustered 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #pls step away from the car ma’am I have no self control when it comes to pretty girls like u. #going to let her be my work crush. having a work crush always makes going into work easier bc u get excited to see them hehehehe #anyway tomorrow is my only day off all week I managed to talk Michael into giving me a SINGLE day off #Asia wants to take me out to her brothers drag show #but I honestly might just cancel bc I’m so drained. I don’t have the energy for a date. #if she wants to come over and just lay in bed with me that’s fine but I don’t wanna go out #tess talks

[beskarandblasters]

You Hired a Cleaning Lady, Mr. Morales?

Sub!Frankie Morales x Dom/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @catchallfangirl for beta reading!!

Summary: After the events of Colombia Frankie finds himself in a spiral of depression, letting himself and his house go. Santiago hires a cleaning service (you) to help him out and as you work for Frankie the sexual tension grows. One day when you can’t take the tension anymore you show up to clean in something else rather than your usual cleaning attire to him to make a move.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, uneven power dynamic (Frankie is Reader's client), dom/sub, lingerie, whimpering Frankie!!, sensory play (feathers), edging, orgasm delay/denial, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, no use of y/n

Santiago pulls up to Frankie’s house on a Thursday afternoon, same as he’s been doing every week. The lawn is overgrown and there’s about three days worth of mail piled up on his doorstep. He sighs and puts his truck in park. Frankie fell into a bout of depression after the events of Colombia, and rightfully so. Considering not only what happened in Colombia but also what happened when he got home. He came home to find all of his shit on the lawn and the locks changed on the house he and his wife used to share. The two events combined sent Frankie in a downward spiral. So Santiago took it upon himself to come check on Frankie every week. Sometimes they go out, sometimes they stay in. It’s been nice for Frankie to have some sense of normalcy. 

He gets out of his truck and walks to Frankie’s doorstep, grabbing the mail before knocking on the door. 

“Just a second!” Frankie’s gruff voice call out.

Frankie answers the door looking like a wreck; pajama pants that have been worn for well over a week, hair unkempt, and dark bags under his eyes. It’s a sight Santiago’s used to but Frankie’s been getting progressively worse. 

“Good to see you,” Santiago says, stepping past Frankie and heading inside.

Somehow Frankie’s house is in an even worse state than him; dirty clothes strewn about, dirty dishes piled high in the sink, the trash overflowing. 

He turns to Frankie and feels a pang in his chest. He wants to help him somehow. He’s already tried suggesting therapy, but Frankie rejected it pretty quickly. And then an idea pops in his head… What about a cleaning service?

“Fish… I wanna help you out.”

“I already told you I don’t need therapy.”

“I know. I know. It’s something else.”

“...What is it?”

“What if I got someone to come in and clean like once a week?”

“I don’t need that.”

Santiago glances around the room before circling back to Frankie.

“This place is a biohazard.”

“Which is why you shouldn't subject someone else to this.”

“Come on, Fish. They’re professionals.”

Frankie sighs, but he doesn’t say yes or no outright. 

“So where to? Let’s go out instead today,” Santiago chuckles.

Frankie can't help but laugh, too. 

-

Santiago gets your phone number from Will’s neighbor. You get a text the next day reading:

Hello, this is Santiago Garcia. I’m looking for someone to clean my friend’s house every week. His name is Frankie Morales and his address is 607 Palm Street. 

You respond:

Hello, Mr. Garcia. I have an opening for Wednesday afternoons. Would that work?

The "typing" icon appears on the screen followed by:

Great. Thank you so much. 

Score! Another job for you. You  wonder why the client’s friend booked you instead of the client himself. Guess you’ll find out on Wednesday.

-

You pull up to the client’s house on Wednesday afternoon, right around two. Judging by the state of the lawn, you have your work cutout for yourself. 

You walk to the front door, dressed in your normal cleaning attire; a t-shirt, leggings and rubber Birkenstocks. It’s your first time meeting here so you brought  supplies of your own. Typically you meet the client first, take a look at the house, and decide who will provide the cleaning supplies,but this client came to you in a strange way. You know nothing about him, nothing about what you’re getting into. You knock on the door and await a response, feeling a little bit nervous about who will answer the door. 

After a moment, the door opens and to your delight, he’s easy on the eyes. You hold out your hand and introduce yourself followed by, “You hired a cleaning lady, Mr. Morales?”

He looks down at your outstretched hand and back at you, a confused look on his face. 

“Damn it, Santiago.” He sighs. “Frankie’s fine.” 

“Ah yes, he’s the one who contacted me.”

Your hand is still reached out, ready for him to shake it. And he does, but you can tell that something’s off here. 

“I can leave if you want me to. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” he sighs, “Come on in.”

You go inside his house and take a look around at the living room and kitchen. …It’s a full on depression cave. Your heart pangs for him. 

“If I had known you were coming, I would’ve straightened up a bit.”

“Not necessary,” you smile, “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I brought some of my own stuff today since I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do. I’ll do a deep clean today and then every week after that it’ll just be a regular cleaning. Does that sound good?”

“Sure,” he nods, a bit nervous still, “I’ll get you cleaning stuff for next time.”

“Sounds good!” you say, wasting no time as you set to work. 

The house is in rough shape,but you don’t say anything. He must be going through something and you get it. You’ve been there a few times yourself. 

You spend roughly five hours at his house; cleaning the dishes in the sink, throwing a load of laundry in, making his bed, vacuuming, dusting, mopping; the works. Frankie can barely recognize the place when you’re done. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself while you cleaned. Is he supposed to leave the house? No, what if you need something and what if you’re done before he gets back. He has to pay you. But he also doesn’t want to hover over you either and make you uncomfortable. These are all things he thinks about in the span of your three hours at his house. But ultimately he decides to just sit on the couch, feeling awkward. 

You gather your stuff and head to the door but Frankie stops you. 

“How much for today?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it this time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you smile, “See you next week!”

And with that, you’re gone. Frankie’s left feeling conflicted. You were technically just forced upon him by Santiago. But… it feels nice to have a clean home again. You did a good job and Santiago was just being a concerned friend. However, there is one thing he’s just gonna bust Santiago’s balls for when he sees him tomorrow. 

-

Thursday afternoon Santiago pulls up to Frankie’s house, same time every week. He gets out of his truck and the lawn is still in the same state. But he knows Frankie’s house will be different. He knocks on the door and Frankie answers almost instantly. 

Santiago steps inside and says, “Wow! Doesn’t even look like the same house. Did you like her?”

Frankie closes the door and turns to face Santiago, arms folded. 

“What?” Santiago asks. 

“You didn’t tell me she was hot!”

“She is? I’ve never met her.”

Frankie sighs. 

“Ah come on, Fish. Maybe I found you a cleaning lady and a girlfriend all in one.” He grins. 

Frankie groans and Santiago laughs. 

“Come on. Let’s hit the Legion. I’m dying for a beer,” Santiago says, clapping Frankie on shoulder. 

-

Over the next few weeks, you come to Frankie’s house every week. The workload becomes significantly less  with each visit. Frankie breaks out of his shell a little too, and you begin tohave wonderful conversations. 

That’s not all you have either. To say there’s underlying sexual tension would be an understatement. It’s practically hanging heavy in the air between you two. Between longing touches and lingering stares, you can’t take it anymore. In fact, one day when you were cleaning his bathroom sink, he scooched behind you to grab something out of his medicine cabinet, his groin fully pressed up against your ass. Fuck, you want him. Not only that, but you’re really falling for him too. He’s such a sweetheart. But you know deep down he’ll never make the first move. 

You’re faced with a moral dilemma. Frankie’s not just anyone.He’s a client. If you make a move and he rejects you, you’re losing a client and he’s losing his cleaning service. Except, you know the tension between you is undeniable. He can’t reject you… right?

-

It’s been six weeks since you started cleaning for Frankie, and today you’re going to do something bold… and a little crazy. 

You’re showing up to his house in sexy maid lingerie. You’ve got the full get up; black stockings with a garter belt attached, a black and white matching bra and panty set, and a short skirt with a lacy apron to match everything. The plan is to clean like normal until he literally can’t resist you anymore. 

Your hands grip the steering wheel nervously, palms slick with sweat. You have a trench coat on to hide your lingerie until you enter his house and now you’re painfully aware of just how cliché this is. 

You pull up to his house and walk to the door, knees feeling weak. You’re wearing heels since you didn’t think your normal rubber Birkenstocks would fit with the lingerie. 

Frankie answers the door before you can knock, something he’s been doing more often now. He takes one look at your attire and says, “A trench coat? Are you feeling sick? You sure you should clean today?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Morales,” you respond, stepping inside. 

“…You know you can call me Frankie, right?” he says, looking down at your choice of shoes… your stocking clad legs.

“I know,” you chuckle, standing by the recliner in his living room. 

Slowly you start to take off the trench coat, revealing more and more of your scantily clad figure. His eyes trail up and down your body, eyebrows raising and mouth agape. 

“Wh-what’s all this for?”

“Just thought I’d clean in something more comfortable,” you say, walking over to his kitchen and bending down to grab something from under the sink. You swear you can hear Frankie audibly gulp. 

You grab microfiber cloths, some furniture polish, and glass cleaner and begin cleaning his kitchen, feeling his gaze from behind you. It practically burns your skin. If this doesn’t do the trick, you don’t know what will. You dust the kitchen, turning to grab a glance at him as you move to his kitchen table. With every movement, you make his eyes follow you and he’s left speechless. 

You move back to his kitchen sink, spraying his window and wiping the glass with the cloth. When you pull the cloth away, you see his reflection in the window. He’s standing behind you and his hands ghost your waist, touching the lacy fabric ever so lightly. 

“If you’re gonna feel me up, just do it,” you tease. 

Your brattiness works because he grabs your waist forcefully, pulling your ass into his groin. 

“You think you can just show up in this skimpy little outfit and expect me to not do something about it?”

“Mr. Morales, I’ve been wanting you to do something for weeks,” you tease, turning around to face him. 

He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he can tell where this is going. 

“On the couch, Mr. Morales,” you command, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He does as he’s told, moving from the kitchen to the living room. He sits on the couch and waits for further instructions all while you grab something else from underneath his sink; a (clean) feather duster. 

You walk from the kitchen to the living room.our heels click against the floor. You stand in front of the couch. With your hands on your hips, you look down at Frankie who’s sitting and waiting oh so obediently for you. 

“I’m gonna need you to strip for me, Mr. Morales.”

He groansbut follows your orders. As he gets up, you notice his cock straining against his sweatpants. And when he pulls his pants down it springs free. 

He sits back down and you kick off your heels, sitting beside him on the couch. You turn to face him puttingyour legs in his lap. 

“Can I touch you?”

“Not yet,” you say, feigning sweetness in your voice. 

You take the feather duster and trace it down his bodystarting at his neck. His breath hitches at the contact of the feathers against his skin. As you move the duster down from his neck to his chest, a trail of goosebumps is left in its wake. He shudders as you swirl the duster around his pecs. 

“How long are you gonna tease me for?” he whimpers. 

“As long as I want to,” you smirk. 

He groans again and you giggle, shifting to straddle his lap. You drag the duster down his chest and abs, stopping at his groin. He whimpers again at the sudden absence of stimulation. 

“Please, I can’t take it anymore,” he begs. 

“Are you begging for me, Mr. Morales?”

“Fuck- yes I am. Please,” he whimpers. 

“Well since you’re being such a good boy,” you giggle, fluttering the duster in circles around his groin. 

You stand up and shed your panties, moving to straddle him again. 

“Can I please touch you?” he asks, with true desperation in his voice. 

“Go ahead,” you say sweetly. 

He brings his fingers by your cunt, trailing his fingers up and down and feeling your wetness. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. 

“Can I finger you? Please?”

“Mhm,” you say with a smirk. 

He brings his fingers to his mouth, moistening them but also tasting you. He hums at the taste, closing his eyes, before bringing them back to your cunt. He slides one finger in slowly, taking the time to feel your warmth; your wetness, before curling it against your walls. It feels good, but you need more. 

“Add another, Mr. Morales.”

“Yeah?” he says, looking up at you with wide eyes. 

“Mhm,” you nod. 

He adds another finger, working your walls and curling them against your g-spot. Then he does something unexpected; something he didn’t ask permission to do. He brings his thumb against your clit, rubbing small circles around it. You want to scold him for doing something without asking, but it feels too good. You’re too deep in bliss to scold him. You throw your head  back in pleasure. Your eyes are closed, lashes fanned against your face. You look like a goddess to Frankie, with your lingerie hugging your figure just right and your breast rising up and down as your breathing quickens. You cum around his fingers, your release soaking down to his wrist. Your walls grip and release his fingers in rhythmic waves before slowing to a halt. 

“I didn’t say you could do that,” you say with shaky breath.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

“Just for that, I tell you when you get to cum. Got it?”

“What?!”

“Mhm. “

He whimpers again and you can't help but laugh. His whimpering turns into a moan when you spit in your hand and start stroking his cock. He’s already rock hard but you want to tease him just a little bit longer. 

“Can I please fuck you already?” he whines.

“You think you’re going to fuck me?”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath again.

“Can you please fuck me already?”

“That’s more like it,” you say smugly.

After one last stroke you move your hand away, inching yourself forward  to hover over his cock. You sink  onto him, taking his full length inside you in one swift motion. His large cock stretches your walls, grazing your cervix and making you feel truly full. You bounce and grind on his cock. Although Frankie doesn’t want to admit it, he already feels like he’s going to bust. 

“I’m getting close,” Frankie whines.

You stop moving and say, “Fine. I’ll wait.”

He’s forced to sit there, just feeling your warmth wrapped around him while you’re completely still, waiting until the feeling dissipates.

“Okay, okay. I’m not close anymore,” he says, pouting just a little.

You start grinding against his cock harder, hitting all the right angles inside you. You yourself are going to cum soon. Except now, you want Frankie to cum, feeling him painting your insides while you ride out your high. 

His cock twitches inside you and he’s already close again. 

“Touch me, Frankie.” You moan.

“What?!”

“I said touch me.” You moan again. 

His hands grip your waist before sliding up to your breasts. His hands pull the laces of your bra back and he takes your nipples between his fingertips. God, it feels amazing.

“Cum for me, Frankie.”

“Really?!” he asks excitedly.

“Mhm,” you respond before crashing your lips against his.

You cum at the same time, moaning against each other’s mouths, all while you move your hips back and forth and he pinches your nipples. His cum coats your walls as your hips slowly come to a stop, keeping it inside you as you rest against his cheek. Both of you are exhausted.

“What was that all about?” Frankie sighs, hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“Got tired of waiting around for you to make the first move,” you reply, leaning back to look him in the eye and shrugging.

“I didn’t even know you felt this way,” he chuckles. 

“I know that’s why I had to make it really obvious, Frankie,” you say sarcastically.

You two share a laugh and you lean forward, keeping him inside you as you rest against him. 

“Maybe you could come clean in this more often?”

“Deal.”

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#frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

[paradiseismine]

Twice as wet - Mike Wheeler x reader

Part 1/2.

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x f!reader

Warnings: slight NSFW, but tasteful I swear ok bye

It was a hot summer’s day, but not as hot as you. Your hair was shinier than ever and your smile was to die for, after all. Your confidence in your body had increased in the last year or so, and ever since you moved to Hawkins a month ago, it had sky rocketed, for some reason. You had just turned 18 and were ready to meet some cute guys.

Just not today.

Your mom had hired some neighbourhood kid to mow the lawn, and told you to stay home all afternoon to pay him afterwards, since she would be out to run some errands. So you sat on your couch, bored in a bikini and a pair of your shortest shorts, unable to jump in the backyard pool until that damn boy’s arrival.

At 1 p.m. sharp, your doorbell rang. You walked to the door and opened it gently.

- Uh, hello, are-are you y/n? - The boy asked, his head slightly tilted down so he would look you in the eyes. Man, was he TALL.

- Hi, that’s me - you smiled sweetly, trying to remember his name - and you’re… Michael, right? My mom told me to wait for you.

- Yes, that’s right… You can call me Mike, though - he scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, licking his lips.

That really got your attention. You examined his face for a second. His perfect jet black hair, his fair skin, plump red lips, delicate little freckles… Ugh. He’s so beautiful. Your lips cracked open as you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It was nearly a trance.

- So uh, should I get started on the lawn? - he grinned, shyly.

- Oh, yes - you said, as your eyes shot wide open, breaking that trance. - Sure. Come, I’ll show you where everything is.

You showed him around the garden and the garage: where the lawn mower was, how it worked and the area he needed to mow: your front yard first, and then the backyard, just around the pool. You tried to keep your cool and be normal about it, hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring when he arrived.

But he did. Mike Wheeler had been 18 for a few months right now, and he couldn’t believe such a pretty girl would check him out like that. He also tried to keep his cool, of course. He needed those summer jobs to afford a new guitar, and wouldn’t risk doing anything to displease you.

After the front yard was done, Mike circled around the house and got to the backyard - just to see you sunbathing near the pool.

Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought, as you got up and turned around, giving him a good look of your figure. What he wasn’t expecting, though, is that you jumped in the water a few seconds later.

As you emerged from the water, your hair darker and your eyes slightly squinted because of the sun, he couldn’t help but also notice all the little water droplets that were dripping from your face to your chest.

He was definitely checking you out. Ugh, thank God, you thought. Finally a cute boy I can obsess over. Because of course, you wouldn’t obsess over anyone who wasn’t obsessed with you too. As the work was all done, he put the lawn mower back on its place and walked over to you.

- Thank you so much, darling - you said, batting your eyelashes at him, your legs dangling from the edge of the pool. - There’s a red envelope on the fridge with your payment. I guess you could grab it later…

- Later? - he said, confused.

- Yes, after a little swim with me… in here - you said, smiling as if you had just offered him a drink of water.

Mike chuckled. He was definitely taking a sip.

- I mean… c-can I? - he asked, just in case.

- Of course, i got plenty of towels you could dry off with later… my mom won’t mind, she’s not coming back home until, at least, 7 p.m… What do you say?

Mike smiled at you as he yanked his shirt from the back of his neck. Just that single movement already made your insides twitch. Oh, that boy was in for a treat.

As he took off his pants and sneakers, you simply watched, no longer worrying about getting caught staring at him. He sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, his cheeks a bit red. Maybe from the sun, maybe from shyness.

You leaned in to kiss him, there was no point in waiting. He kissed you back softly, his hands grabbing your waist gently, as if he was afraid to scare you off. You were so pretty, he couldn’t believe it. Your right hand reached for his face, caressing it lightly, as you held his arm with your left hand and slowly guided him to actually enter the pool, so you would both stand up in it. Now your bodies were touching, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest as you grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair and scratched his back with your nails, now fully making out with him.

He reached for your thighs and brought you up to his waist, intensifying your lust. You wrapped your legs around him, holding yourself in place, as his hands slowly left your butt after a few good grips. You had never been so grateful for that pool.

Mike Wheeler had the biggest boner of his life. His underwear was white and now completely wet, plus he had a hard-on - great. What if you were offended by it? Was that uncalled for? Those questions left his brain the second your soft hand reached down under the water.

Damn, that boy was packing some heat down there. He jumped out of his skin with your touch, at first, but melted into it a second later.

- I know you’re kissing me in the pool just to get me twice as wet - you said, chuckling, as your foreheads were touching. - But maybe we should continue this on dry land.

- Sure, whatever you want, princess - he said, enchanted by you.

- Whatever I want, huh? - you put your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side. - That’s good to hear. I might take advantage of this later, though.

#finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard smut #mike wheeler x reader #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #stranger things #imagine #miles fairchild #lol i tried

[pretty-red-garnet]

Sparkly Blues

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Pre-apocalypse/Prison • Fluff/Angst

I’m not really sure how I feel about this one. I kept going back and forth about it and deleting parts and then rewriting and blah blah blah. But it took way too long to write, so I’m posting it anyway lol. I hope someone enjoys it. Also! I’m taking requests! So give me some for our love Daryl. <3

You had met Daryl by bartending. You were new to the town and it was the only shit job you could manage to get. You were staying in the small Georgia town to take care of a sick family member, and all the money you could get was needed. Even if the job sucked.

It was the hot spot for the local bikers. The patrons you were forced to deal with were all seedy, loud, and rude. You had to stop a bar fight at least twice a night, and got groped and flirted with at least a thousand times. You had only been there a few weeks and you were about to quit. If you thought your sick aunt could make it back to your home town, you would've packed her up in a second.

But then Daryl showed up, in toe with his rowdy older brother. They sat at the bar, and one flash of his sparkly blue eyes and you were hooked. Your heart did one hard thump and your knees just nearly buckled. Damn he was cute.

"Hey, give us two pints!" His brother demanded, his eyes also blue but lacking the sparkle the younger man had. Lacking what made his eyes so pretty. His were empty and had blown pupils. His demand broke your daze, and you rushed to give them their beers. You smiled lightly at Daryl, who just avoided your eyes. You could just barely see in the dim lighting his face was a little pink.

At closing, you questioned your coworker about the brothers, mostly to learn more about the cute quiet one. She paused her wiping a table to look at you with confused eyes.

"Merle and Daryl? They've been coming for years, they go on hunting trips a lot though. That's why you haven't met them," she explains.

"Sooo... who's the quiet one?" She gives you a questioning look with a brow raised.

"You mean Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" She had asked.

"Is Daryl the really cute one with pretty blue eyes?" She laughed and rolled her eyes. "What? I'm serious!"

"Y/N, he's a Dixon," she said, like that was all the explanation you needed. You raised your brows at her to keep talking, she rolls her eyes. "They're no good. Believe me."

"He seemed plenty nice to me..." you say with a shrug. "Quiet, shy, he even thanked me! I mean I think it's the first 'thank you' I've gotten since I got hired."

"Daryl isn't bad I guess. He doesn't really talk to anyone." You nod and when she stops talking, you nudge her. "Y/N believe me, maybe he was ok today, but he's gotten in his fair share of fight. He doesn't say much, but when he does, it's usually yelling. And he's Merle's brother, who you should really stay away from."

"Damn," you mumble with a sigh. "He's really cute though." She laughed and slapped your shoulder.

"This isn't the place to find boyfriend material." She sighed dramatically and fumbled with something behind the bar. You looked at her with a puzzled expression. "But it is the place to drink!" She slams a hefty bottle on the bar and you laugh.

     When the weekend rolls around the Dixons come again. You try to snap yourself out of your daze and do your work, but it's a little hard with the handsome stranger sitting there and your coworker snickering whenever you so much as glanced at him. When closing time came around, you grabbed the wet towel you were cleaning with and snapped her behind with it.

     "Can you blame me?! Have you seen his eyes?!" You snapped at her with a red face, but she only laughed even harder.

     This little routine continued for another two weeks. Stealing little glances at the man and your friend laughing and poking at you until you were red as a firetruck.

    One night though, during a busy Friday night, your friend called out. You were all alone managing both the bar and waitressing as she did. You scurried to the bar from the backroom as you heard a loud ruckus and yelling. And to no one's surprise, it was another bar fight.

     This time it was the Dixon brothers against another two biker assholes. Merle against one and Daryl the other. You yelled and shouted at them to stop, but no one was letting up. Daryl was almost underneath the biker he was fighting, and so against your better judgment, you stepped in.

     "Alright, alright! Enough!" You shouted and tried grabbing his arm that was just about to wail on Daryl. He looked back just a split second before breaking his arm from your grasp and slamming it back into your face. You immediately stumbled back and onto the floor clutching your head, where he got you with a big metal ring right in the temple.

     Finally, an older, more respected biker stepped in. He broke up the fight and shoved the two bikers— who you assumed must've started the fight— out the door.

     You reached up a hand and slightly panicked when you pulled your fingers away and saw blood. Your vision was a little blurry and you looked up blearily to who crouched in front of you, only to see the prettiest eyes imaginable.

     "You alright?" Daryl asked. You nodded in a daze, but his brows furrowed in concern still.

     "Y-yeah. I'm ok." He nodded and reached his hands out to help you up. Even in your state, you can see his knuckles are bloodied and busted.

     He helped you to sit on a bar stool before walking off, and you took a quick glance around. It was just about closing time now, so most were gone. All that remained was the older biker that broke up the fight, a few stragglers, and Merle bragging that he won the brawl.

     "Everybody out! Come on," Daryl calls out. The stragglers filter out the doors pretty quick, still probably buzzing from the excitement of the fight.

     Daryl retuned to you with a little first aid kid. He grabbed a clean wet towel and wiped at the blood on your face. If you weren't still seeing stars, you'd probably be having a conniption right now.

"You gonna fix up the girl, baby brother?" Merle asks with a sickening grin. Daryl just hummed a yes. "Don't come home without getting some tail first!"

"Shut up, man!" Daryl yelled, turning to him. He turned back once he was out the door and his checks were a little flushed.

     "You need a hospital?" He asked a moment later, recovered from Merle's obnoxious comment. His tongue was peaking out of his lip in concentration as he puts a little bandage to your cut. Oh boy.

     "No, no," you stammer out. Now that you were beginning to recover from your state, you realize you were completely alone with him, and he was helping you. Being all gentle while he wipes your face softly, close to his face, staring into his eyes... this is heaven. "I'm ok. Thanks."

     He nods, biting the inside of his lip. He closes the first aid kit and stashed it where it belongs behind the bar.

     "'M sorry you got hurt," he mutters. You just give him a small smile.

     "It's ok. I know you didn't start the fight." He shuffled back over to you and hovers awkwardly. "And you cleaned me up. Thank you."

     "My fault anyway," he says with a shrug. He still didn't meet your eyes.

"Well," you start, but hesitate. Daryl looks at you and waits patiently for you to continue. "I know a way you can repay me. If you really want."

"What's that?" He asks.

"Drive me home?"

From that day forward you and Daryl were somewhat inseparable. He always came to the bar if you knew you were working, sometimes even without Merle which you appreciated. He gave you the creeps, even though Daryl had assured you he wouldn't do anything to you. He also might've threatened to knock him out for you if he ever stepped out of line.

Despite your coworkers concerns, Daryl was pretty perfect— even if a little rough around the edges at times. He was sweet, and while Merle and most of the other bikers looked at you as if you were meat, Daryl always looked at you so genuinely. So sweetly.

He even drove you home most nights now ever since that first night you both really talked. He learned your car broke down, and between your aunt's medical bills and your job's shitty pay, you couldn't get it fixed. Daryl had tried to fix it, but the part you needed was way too pricey. He didn't like that you walked home at almost three in the morning, so he drove you after every shift. Even if he didn't hang out at the bar that night.

You were pretty positive Daryl was the greatest guy you had ever met. So kind, and attentive, and always doing his best to help you with whatever you needed. Helpful without expecting something in return.

     When your aunt eventually died, a few months after being close with Daryl, he was the first one you called. You were in hysterics, and he sped over to the hospital as fast as he could just to hug and hold you.

     He stayed with you for days, made your meals, even hunted so you would have fresh meat for him to cook you. But mostly, he stayed by your side like wet on water.

     Daryl wasn't the best with comforting people, or really with emotions at all, but he tried. And you always appreciated it. Even if he didn't know what to say, and he'd just hold you tight and let you cry. Or played with your hair when you couldn't sleep. Daryl was better with actions than with words, and you didn't mind a bit.

     It was during this time that you knew you didn't just care about him as a good friend, or even as a crush, but was in love with him. You loved how caring and loyal he was, how you were completely comfortable with him and knew you could always rely on him.

     "Daryl, I need to tell you something," you murmured, you voice cloudy with tears still. It was only a week after your aunts passing and while you were getting better, you had a really rough day. Memories flashing through your mind and making it nearly impossible to get through your day without breaking down.

     "Hm," Daryl hummed. You felt the vibrations in your chest, as he held you close to him and stroked your hair.

     "I love you," you said, nuzzling your face in his neck, too scared to see his face. To see that he didn't feel for you that way. Or try to push you away. You couldn't look at him.

     Hesitantly, he gently pulled your face away from his neck to look at you. Your eyes were still red and rimmed with tears, which he brushed away with a thumb. You were scared to see rejection, but when you worked up the nerve to look at his face, you saw anything but.

     You saw pure love.

     "Daryl," you called.

     "What?" He said from the other room, shortly before entering the living room where you stood. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans. His hair was still damp from his shower and you took a second to take in the sight before voicing your concerns.

     "I don't think you should go on that hunting trip." You looked back to the news, who was reporting about strange serial killings around the country, now hitting Atlanta. They were eating the bodies.

     He walked up to stand by you. You looked at him in worry. He smiled and brushed a hand down your face gently.

     "That's Atlanta. If anything, me and Merle will be safer from those freaks in the woods," he says and presses his lips to yours to smooth away your worry. "You should come, too."

     "I can't." You level him with a serious look. "My coworker is sick with some flu, I'll be taking care of the bar all by myself."

     Daryl pushes his face into your neck and lays down kisses on your neck, moving down to your shoulders, then chest. You adore the scratchy feeling of his stubble on your delicate skin.

     "Come on," he complains into your chest, and you giggle a little at his whining. "They can close the bar for one goddamn weekend."

     "The money doesn't hurt either, Mr. Dixon," you tease. He pulls away to look you in the eye, hands on your hips and that same soft and genuine look on his face that you fell in love with to begin with. And those eyes. Despite all the years you've been with the man, his sparkly blues were still the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

     "Fine," he obliges, but he still with a little frown. You wipe it away with a firm peck and a caress to his cheek. His eyes close momentarily, soaking in the feeling, before opening them again. He gazes at you with half lidded eyes, so lovingly and tenderly. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Dixon."

     That morning was the last time you'd seen your husband. The flesh eating 'serial killers'—which you now are reanimated corpses— made their way to your small town while he was gone. You tried to stay as long as you could, but soon a herd trying to make their way into your house and you couldn't stay.

     You tried to get to where the Dixons were camping, but was too late. They were already gone for god knows how long. And so you moved around, trying to find him. You had no clue where to look, you weren't a tracker like Daryl, but you tried.

     You moved through the woods and stayed at cabins you found, or made a little camp with cans on wire surrounding it so you can hear anything coming. Daryl had taught you that, when you stayed at a campground with him once where there were larger animals roaming around.

     You missed him.

     You missed how he could always ease your worries and calm you down. His gentle touches and soft kisses. How soft he was with you. The way he always looked at you with love and care. You missed all of him.

     You're ashamed to think that maybe you'll never find him. Or maybe he only lives in your memories now. Maybe the last time you saw him was truly the last time.

     You could still see his eyes in your mind whenever you tried to sleep. You stayed awake most of the time now.

     You move around an abandoned gas station. It was your little camp for the moment. It had four walls and the doors held well enough, for now anyway. It's been almost a year of this now. Of moving around trying to find Daryl, with not even a clue. You needed to hunker down for at least a week, you're growing too weak and exhausted.

     The gas station was littered with dirt and grime, along with some candy and other snacks that weren't scavenged. Some water bottles were still in the coolers, but barren shelves took up most of the space.

     You're moving some of the shelving to the door, hoping that blocking it would keep the monsters out. If they didn't hear or see you, maybe they'll just wander by.

     You set up a blanket in the corner and throw your pack down before laying your head on it. You take a deep breath and try to fight the tears. You can't do this anymore. You can't just survive anymore. Is there even a point? Tears burn at your eyes and you close them shut.

     You must fall asleep at some point, because when your eyes fly open to voices, it's bright out.

     "There's something blocking the door," a woman says, trying in vain to push the doors open. You grab your gun quickly and rush to hide behind some shelving.

     "Hang on, let me try," a man says, before you hear more loud screeching from the metal shelves scraping on the floor. You point your gun in front of you, really hoping you don't have to use it.

     You hear footsteps, and see light streaming in now that the shelves weren't blocking the sun. Your hands shake a little on the gun.

     "Seems clear," the man says. You hold your breath. Maybe they'll just leave. You peak ever so slightly over the shelve to see the two. Ones a Asian guy, and the other is a pretty brunette girl.

     "Glenn," she says, and points over to your blanket and pack. "Someone was here."

     You slink back down, slowly and carefully. You can hear as the two begin to walk cautiously around the tiny store. The guy—Glenn— begins to walk around the shelf you're hiding behind, so you try to move to block yourself from his sight. But you didn't see the empty can by your foot, and kick it, causing it to roll out in the open. Shit.

     "Whoever's back there, come out!" Glenn calls out. "We won't hurt you, just come out slow."

     You weight your options in your head, but decide to walk out. They looked put together and well kept, maybe they had some sort of camp? A stable enough place that they wouldn't kill you for a can a beans and a half empty bottle of water?

     "Put the gun down," the girl says, flanking you from behind while the man is in front. You oblige, and the gun drops to the floor with a metallic thump. Your heart beats a million miles a second.

     "You have a camp?" Glenn asks.

     "This is my camp," you answer. Your hands were raised slightly in front of you, not wanting to startle them in any way and end up with a bullet between your eyes.

     "What about a group? Are you with anyone?" He asks. He eyes your warily, but they seemed kind. The girl walked out in front of you, her gun in hand but not held up. They didn't seem malicious. Maybe this could work out?

"No, just me," you answer. He and the woman give you a long look.

     "We have a camp, answer our questions and we can take you back," the girl says, holstering her weapon. Glenn lowers his but keeps it in his hand. "My names Maggie, and that's Glenn." You nod, and your eyes dance from one to the other. They didn't seem bad, but you can't be too careful nowadays.

     "How many walkers have you killed?" Glenn asks.

     "I don't know," you say with a shrug. "I've been moving around a lot, so a bunch I guess."

     "How many people?" You gulp at his question.

     "I shot a guy trying to rob me, not sure if I killed him." The man nods, and you wonder what's going to happen to you. They have a camp, but is it safe? Even if it is, would you go? Daryl could still be out there...

     "Our camp is a prison not far, you can come back with us," Maggie says, a kind smile gracing her pretty face. "What's your name?"

     "Y/N, Y/N Dixon." The couples eyes fly open, their jaws drop slightly. "What?"

     "You wouldn't happen to know a Daryl Dixon, would you?" She asks, and your heart just about burst right out of your chest.

"Yeah, he's my husband," you say, excitedly. Your heart is thumping almost painfully against your ribs. "You know him?"

"Daryl's married?!" Glenn shouts out. Maggie thumps him once on the shoulder and gives him a stern look. "What?"

The whole trip to the prison you thought you were dreaming. Maybe this isn't happening. I'm asleep still. Daryl is gone.... You still tried to hold onto hope, your chest tight and fingers anxiously drumming against your leg.

Maggie and Glenn were sweet, both with matching grins at the idea of yours and Daryl's reunion. They asked questions along the way, how you'd met him and how long you were married. You answered them all happily, almost to the point of tears.

When the car drove up to the prison fences, you looked around in awe. There were animals and crop gardens, kids running around the fields. It was something you never thought you'd see again.

A man opened the fence for you three, and a grey haired woman followed after seeing you step out of the car. The man had a beard and cowboy boots on, and he smiled warmly when he saw you. The woman had a look just as kind.

"Rick, Carol, you'll never guess who this is," Maggie says, a huge smile plastered on her face as she jumped out of the car. They both give you a second glance and look at her a little confused, and the man— Rick— nodded for her to continue. "Daryl's wife."

"Oh!" Carol gasped, a big smile on her face. "So nice to meet you! I've heard so much about you!"

"Only good things I hope," you say. You're still buzzing, and your eyes fly across the field in hope of catching a glance of your husband. Your heart flutters, your knees feel weak, and you still feel this may be a dream. A figment of your imagination.

And then you see him.

Your eyes widen, and with one last glance at your four new friends, you book it towards him. Your feet barely touch the grass as you bolt towards your husband.

"Daryl!" He turns sharply at the sound of your voice. He's half bent over his bike, hands full of grease and grime, and still he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. He stops in his tracks for just a second before running to meet you in the middle.

You jump into his arms, his grease caked hands rubbing all over you but you couldn't care less. His fingers tremble where they lay on your back. Your face is shoved into his neck and you relish in the feeling of him.

"I thought I lost you I—" he says, cutting himself off, like he couldn't even think of it. "I looked for you everywhere."

"Me too," you say, voice laced with tears. This has to be a dream, it has to be. Your burrow your face even deeper into him and tighten your hold. "I don't want this to be a dream."

     "Shh, it's not," he murmurs lovingly in your ear. "I promise, I'm right here."

     Tears flow down your face even faster. Negative thoughts still plague your brain. Daryl brushes his hands down your back, up to caress your shoulders, before moving back down to clutch at your hips. His touches become more desperate and clingy. You think he's never going to let you go, you never want him to.

     Finally, you muster up the courage to look at him. You slowly peel your face away from his neck. Daryl presses a kiss to your forehead, resting a hand on your cheek softly. You look at him with matching tear stained faces, smiling. Gently, you push his grown out fringe away from his face.

     He's smiling, probably the happiest you've ever seen him, even with tear tracks down his pretty face. And when you finally lock eyes with those sparkly blues you've only seen in your dreams for so long, you know he's really there.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl x reader #twd

[tickle-minion]

Ticklish Farm hand

SFW, but some really evil tickling as the young farm hand learns what happens when he misses a day of work.

-------

Luke was attending community college in a small town and needed some easy to work to  help pay for his bills.  Being a small college town, there wasn’t actually much work to be had.  After weeks of searching Luke found something that would pay the bills AND not interfere at all with his class schedule…  but the downside was that it involved getting up at the crack of dawn and  tending to and feeding cows on a farm just outside of town.  Luke had a little 10 year old Volvo so getting out to the farm wasn’t bad, but it also meant that he had to call it a night pretty early most nights in order to be able to get up in the mornings.  His boss, Richard, occasionally gave him days off so he could live the life of a college student.  

One Friday night Luke was invited out to the bar by Nancy, a girl he’d been interested in since the start of the term.  Luke had to feed the cows the next morning (as usual), but he didn’t think he could say no to Nancy.  He told himself that he’d just go out early, limit himself to a few drinks, and make it home with plenty of time to sleep and wake up the next morning.

That didn’t happen.

Luke woke up the next morning with his phone chiming and a very large headache.  He rolled over in bed, feeling the most hung over he’d felt in a very long time, and picked up his phone, squinting as he checked to see why it was making all this noise.  At first he was confused, but confusion quickly gave way to panic when he realized he’d slept through his alarm.  He wasn’t just late for work… he’d missed it all together.  Checking his messages, he saw that he’d missed a few calls from Richard, his boss.  Luckily, it was Saturday, so Luke would be able to drive down to the farm to apologize in person.  Despite feeling like death, Luke got dressed as quickly as he could, put on his heavy work boots, and sprinted from his dorm room to his car.

When he arrived at the farm, Luke parked in his usual spot and beelined for the house.  He knocked and waited.  It wasn’t long before he heard the heavy footsteps of Richard coming to the door, and the very pissed off farmer answered.

“Luke, so nice of you to show up,” Richard said from the doorway.  It was clear by the expression on his face that he was not impressed with the farm hand.

“Look, Richard, I’m sorry.  Things got out of hand last night and I -”

“Save it.  Cows were late getting fed this morning, which meant I had to go out and do it.  It fucked up everything else I had to do today.  When I hired you I said I was looking for someone dependable and reliable.  I’m starting to wonder if you’re the right person for the job.”

Luke felt panic rise in his throat.  He needed this job.

“Richard… I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  This is a one time thing, it’s never going to happen again!  Give me a second chance, I promise I’ll be here every single day.”

Richard gave the boy a good, hard stare while Luke was shaking in his boots.  He wondered just what was going through the farmer’s mind.  It was clear that Richard was pissed, but it was also the first and only time that Luke hadn’t shown up.  

“Alright, listen.  I’ll give you one more chance.  But you gotta follow me and do exactly as I say.  You got it?  Step one toe out of line and you’re gone.  There’s lots of kids at your school who’d jump at a chance to replace you.  Got it?”

Luke nodded eagerly.

“Yes, yes, absolutely.  I’ll do whatever you say.  Thank you Richard, thank you so much.”

“Alright, quit yer jabbering and follow me.”

Richard stepped out of the house and started making his way to his old wooden barn.  As far as Luke knew, there wasn’t much in there since Richard built the newer, larger barn.

Pushing open the door, Richard and Luke both stepped in.  It was a large building that still smelled like animals even though there weren’t any.  Sunlight came in through the gaps between the boards and motes of dust floated in the sunbeams.

“Take a seat on the bench and take off yer boots,” Richard said, grabbing a nearby wooden crate.

“Oh, um, alright,” Luke answered, taking a seat as he was directed and untying his heavy work boots.

Richard returned and put the crate down in front of Luke.

“Alright, now prop those feet of yers up on the box.  I gotta grab somethin’.”

Luke did as he was told.  He dropped both boots on the ground beside the bench and hoisted his legs up, resting the heels of his white Hanes-sock feet on the wooden crate.  This was getting weird, but he was willing to put up with a little weird if it meant keeping his job.

Luke just sat there, mindlessly wiggling his toes, waiting for Richard to return.  It didn’t take long for Richard to come back.  He was holding a tube of something in his hands.

“Alright kid,” Richard said as he pulled up a stool to sit in front of Luke’s socked feet, “time to see how farm life has been treating these feet of yours.”

“You’re going to what?” Luke sputtered as Richard pulled off both of his socks, exposing his bare feet.

RIchard leaned forward a little bit, inspecting the soles of Luke’s feet.

“Hmm, looks like they’re a little rough.  That happens when you’re working on a farm.  I’m guessing your feet were much softer and tender before you came to work for me, huh?”

Suddenly very uncomfortable, Luke gave a nervous chuckle.

“Y-yeah, I guess.”

“Well good thing for you I got the cure for that.”

Richard popped open the tube he was carrying and squirted some white substance into his hand.  Luke was finally able to see it was some sort of moisturizing lotion.

“I keep a few bottles of this around.  You’d be surprised how dry yer hands and feet get working out here.”

Without a word, Richard rubbed his hands together, smearing the motion between them, and grabbed one of Luke’s feet.  Surprised that someone was touching his foot, Luke jumped slightly on the stool and instinctively tried to pull his foot away.  Try as he might, he couldn’t.  Richard’s grip was too strong.

“Remember what I said, kid.  You do whatever I say or else you’re out of a job.  I’m telling you to keep yer feet on this box and don’t move them.  Understand?”

Not fully understanding what was happening, Luke just managed a sheepish nod.

Satisfied with the response, Richard turned his attention back to Luke’s foot.  Using his powerful, rough hands, Richard began to massage the lotion into Luke’s foot.  His thumbs pressed into Luke’s instep, working in small circles.  His palms were flat against Luke’s broad soles, rubbing the lotion in.  Fingers flossed between each individual toe, getting everything smooth and slick,getting a small embarrassed giggle from the college student.

“A little ticklish, are we?  That’s good to know.”

Luke just leaned back on the stool and found… that he actually kind of liked it.  He liked the feeling of those big hands working and massaging his foot.  It was true, since he’d started working he’d noticed his feet were getting rough (and often sore), so having someone pamper them a little bit felt kind of nice.  Weird as hell, but nice.

Richard continued to work silently, massaging Luke’s foot until it was nice, relaxed, slick, and cool to the touch.  Pulling away, the farmer squirted more lotion into his hands again, rubbed them together, and went to work on Luke’s other foot.  His hands gave the same care.  Luke could feel the obvious strength in those hands, but Richard’s touch was gentle.  Almost caring.  If this was punishment for being late for work, Luke didn’t understand it.

Finally, after 10 or so minutes of constant massage, with Richard switching back and forth between the pair of feet, the farmer sat up.

“Alright, I think we’re just about ready.  Remember what I said, you keep your feet on that box.  No moving them unless I give the say so.  You understand the rules?”

Not understanding the rules at all, Luke just gave a single nod.

“Good.  Here we go then.”

Suddenly, one of Richard’s hands took firm hold of Luke’s left ankle, and the index finger of his other hand scratched up and down Luke’s arch.  A shock went through Luke’s body and purely by reflex he tried to jerk his foot away.  Richard’s grip was strong, and the foot didn’t go anywhere.

“This is yer one and only warning, Luke.  You keep yer feet on the box or you’re out of a job.”

“W-What are you doing to my foot?” Luke asked, eyes wide and confused.

“I’m a strong believer in corporal punishment.  It’s the only way some people learn.  Unfortunately I can’t beat the lesson into you, so I got to get a bit more creative.”

The finger was back again, moving up and down very slowly over Luke’s lotion slicked (and sensitive) sole.  Luke gripped the edges of the bench with both hands and held on tight.

“You’re tickling me…”

“Yeah, that’s right.  And it’s going to get a helluva lot worse.”

The finger was suddenly joined by another, stroking up and down Luke’s left foot.  The farm hand hadn’t been tickled since he was a kid and he was quickly learning that he was more ticklish than he figured he’d be.  He closed his eyes and giggled, keeping his foot as still as possible.  The two fingers were joined by a third, then a fourth, and soon Richard’s five fingers were wiggling into Luke’s sole.  What was once giggling had turned into soft laughter.  This was bearable.  It was really weird (and could possibly be considered sexual harassment… if Richard was getting off on this) but bearable.

“Alright, we got a ticklish one here.  Good job keeping yer feet on the crate, boy.  Just hold onto yer hat for this.”

“What do you me-E-E-E-A-ANNN!!”

Luke tried to talk, but his boss attacked both of his feet at once, one hand on each.  Where before it had been light tickles, this was an onslaught.  Both rough hands, once gentle, were sadistic.  Those strong fingers were now digging into the flesh of his feet, nails scratching and pads kneading.  Luke tried his hardest to keep his feet on the crate as he was ordered, but it was hard.  He kicked his feet a little, being careful not to pull them away.

“I-I-I’M S-S-S-OOOOORRY!”

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be!”

Richard took hold of both of Luke’s big toes in one tight gripped hand and pulled them back, stretching the soles out.  His other hand started tickling the two soles together, switching from one then the other, back and forth.  He was scratching up and down quickly, taking the occasional moment to tickle both of his arches at the same time.  Luke was in hysterics, head thrown back with laughter while his legs kicked and squirmed.  He kept his heels on the crate as ordered.  This was rough and intense, but being without a job was not an option.

“OKAY!  HA HA HA!  OOOOOKAY!  I’VE… I’VE LEARNED MY L-L-LESSSSON!”

Richard didn’t answer, he just looked up from the pair of squirming feet he was tickling and laughed.

The sadistic farmer kept this up for several minutes, constantly moving his fingers around the stretched soles so Luke never had a chance to get used to the sensation.  Mercifully though, he eventually stopped and let go of Luke’s toes.

“Oh fuck,” Luke panted, his face red and his forehead sweaty, “Holy fuck that was awful.  I’ll never be late again, I swear, I’ve learned my lesson.”

It was Richard’s turn to laugh now.

“Ha!  You think that’s it?  Sorry kid, we still have one more thing.  Here, let’s lotion those feet up again so they’re as slick and sensitive as possible, first.”

Squirting some into his hand, Richard started slathering a thick layer of lotion all over Luke’s soles.  The farm hand giggled quietly, feet still quite sensitive from the previous tickling.

“Did you know we got barn owls around here?  Sometimes I hear them at night, and sometimes I just find feathers the next morning.  Want to see one?”

Luke watched as Richard pulled out a long brown striped feather.  

“You’re going to tickle my feet with a feather?  Doesn’t that only happen in cartoons?”

Richard grinned.

“If you think this only works in cartoons, you’re about to learn something new.”

Richard roughly grabbed both of Luke’s ankles and held them down.  Luke’s eyes went wide as he watched the feather come closer and closer to his helpless soles while Richard dragged it out for dramatic effect.  Finally the very tip of the feather touched Luke’s sole, and Richard swirled it.  Nothing happened.  Luke didn’t laugh… it didn’t tickle.  Richard seemed somewhat disappointed.

“Aw shucks.  Usually that works.  Oh well, I know for a fact the other side will work.”

Flipping the feather around, Richard pressed the tip of the quill into Luke’s heel and dragged it up in one quick motion up to his toes.

Luke jumped in his seat, and almost pulled his feet right out of Richard’s grasp.  Now that… that tickled!  It was so much worse than the fingers.  It was like a bolt of lightning shocked through his body, from his foot all the way up through to his head.  

“FUCK!”

“Don’t worry, I got good penmanship”

Richard started at the top of Luke’s foot, and started writing on the sole using the tip of the quill.  He read slowly as he went, not that Luke understood too much.  He was making a sound somewhere between a scream, a squeal, and a laugh.

“I…. will… not… be… late…  Maybe I need to write this a few times to get your attention?”

“NO!  NOOOOO!”

“Yeah, I think we will.  I’ll write it as many times as you have toes.  Sounds fair, right?”

The feather moved from Luke’s sole up to his pinky toe.

“That’s one….”

He scribbled on the tad of the toe, trailing down the digit until he was in the gap under the toe.  Once there, he scribbled again, digging the quill into the soft skin.  Luke was rocking back and forth, eyes wide and bulging as he watched.  He continued to laugh and scream, barely able to keep his breath.  

“Okay, one down, 9 more times to go.”

Richard continued the following pattern just as promised.  Pressing the point of the quill into the lotion slicked soles, sliding easily as he scrawled all over the soles.  From left to right, he wrote ‘I Will Not Be Late”, from top of the foot all the way to the bottoms of Luke’s heels.  He worked the tip into the flesh of each toe, working Luke somewhere between ticklishness and pain.  Whatever it was, it was driving the boy absolutely insane.  There were now tears freely flowing down his beat red face.  The sides of Luke’s mouth were starting to ache from how large and wide his laughing smile had stretched.  

But throughout it all, Luke managed to keep his feet in place.  They kicked, they pulsed, they shook, and then buckled… but they never pulled back.  It was single handedly the hardest thing Luke had ever been through in his life.

“PP-P-P-LEEE-ASSE.  I-I-I CAN'T…” Luke sobbed.

“Don’t worry kid, I’m on the last one now…”

RIchard dragged out his final scrawl.  He dug into the tender sole with each letter, really pressing into Luke’s foot.  It felt as though Richard was taking minutes instead of seconds with each word and letter.  Finally, having written his message into Luke’s feet, he brought the feather up to the one last assaulted toe: the big toe on Luke’s right foot.

“Just a little bit left, you can make it…” Richard teased.

The quill lightly touched the center of Luke’s toe.  The farm hand’s over sensitive foot jerked and he sucked in a sharp breath.  His eyes were wide with terror as he watched the final moments of his tickle torture.

Instead of pressing into the pad like he had with the other toes, Richard gave a shockingly light touch, doing small circles on Luke’s big toe.  

Luke’s eyes stayed locked on the feather attacking his toe.  His breath was  jagged and sucked in through clenched teeth.  His foot vibrated on the crate, threatening to pull back at any moment.  He looked more like a frightened rabbit than a young man.  Normally he wouldn’t be this ticklish to such a light touch, but the full experience of being tickled, and the lotion that was freely slathered over his feet, left him a wreck.

RIchard made the circles smaller and smaller, until finally he stopped.  He leaned back on his bench and set the feather down on the table beside him.

“There you go kid, how do you feel?”

Under his sweater, Luke had sweat right through his thin white shirt.  His hair was plastered to his head with sweat.  He panted heavily, hands still tightly clenching the bench.

“So… so it’s… over?”

Richard nodded, getting up from the stool and walking towards the barn’s exit.

“Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke pulled his feet back instantly.  His brain, being in survival mode, quickly tucked his feet under himself.  Now they were protected against any more tickling.

“That was… what was fucked up, RIchard.  Really fucked up.  I thought I was going to die.”

This time it was RIchard who laughed.

“You did good though, you never pulled your feet away no matter how rough I was with you.  You get to keep yer job.  Just consider this yer one and only one warning.  Don’t show up again and I’ll make what you just went through feel like child’s play.  We understand each other?”

Luke said nothing, he just nodded his head furiously, still trying to catch his breath.

“Good.  You can see yourself out.  See you tomorrow morning.”

Luke didn’t leave right away.  He needed time to settle himself back down.  After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Luke slowly put his socks back on with shaky hands.  He grit his teeth and gasped out a giggle a few times as the socks slid over his over sensitive feet.  Once his socks were on he slipped his feet into his work boots, but didn’t bother tying them up.  

He made a pledge right there and then to never be late again.

#malefeet #feet #gayfeet #male tickling #guy feet #tickling #gay tickling #male feet story #male tickling story #sfw tickling community #tickling content #tickling community #tickle content #gay foot play #male foot story

[r3starttt]

Can you do something about drummer Abby and makeup artist reader?

Thank you, I love the ellie in an interview ❤️

make it up to me

> Drummer! Abby x makeup artist! reader

a/n: this took me so long and for what? 🙄 I gotta confess that I wanted to make this longer but got no inspiration at all so the last part is based on a tik tok I saw a while ago that had me giggling and kicking my feet

You’ve always loved makeup, a lot. Your biggest dream was to become a professional makeup artist, and you were determined to. So when you finally got a job you felt like your life was solved.

But it wasn’t, apparently if you don’t work on your own there’s always gonna be people that cause trouble in your life. You got fired because some jealous coworker which you didn’t even get to know the name, said some shit about you.

And you thought it was all over because apparently no one hires people if they don’t have enough experience. And you stood jobless for a while, until your best friend, Nora, helped you get a job.

And now you’re here, on your fifth concert, doing makeup to an apparently very famous band that pays you more than enough. Most of them would ask you for very extravagant makeups, especially the main singer of the band, so you had to take a while with each member due to the details.

So when it was time to get to the drummer you mostly ended alone with her, which you didn’t mind at all because she’s hot and really nice to talk to. Also it’s been pretty helpful because you’ve get to be closer with the band as well that way.

“Gosh people’s so loud today” you could hear the fans screaming outside. The place they were doing today’s concert was pretty small, like a local theater kinda “yeah… we’ve been getting a lot of support lately, hopefully soon we’ll get to perform on bigger stages” Abby’s eyes were closed as she spoke. You were doing a type of messy look, smudged eyeliner, some dark eyeshadow and a bit or mascara.

“You’re planing on performing maybe in other states?” you grabbed the eyeliner and started to apply it on her eyes, smudging it with your finger “we’d like to, but it doesn’t really depends on us. But if we do you’re definitely coming with us” you couldn’t help but smile, she’s just being nice but when you’re almost on top of her, while she has her eyes closed and her voice sounds so pretty to you, what else is there to think?

“I’d love to, thanks” you can see her smile widening a bit “you’re ready abs, tell me if there’s anything else you want to add” you step aside, allowing the blonde to look at the mirror in front of her and check on her makeup “all good” she says, standing up from the chair. And you can’t help but stare at her tall and strong figure which totally hides whenever she sits for you to do her makeup.

She’s wearing a black tank top and some gray military pants with a pair of black boots, and the contrast it does with her skin and hair as well as the makeup is killing you because how does she look hotter than any other day? However your thoughts get interrupted by her voice.

“You’re free tomorrow? I’d like to take you somewhere” she says it so casual, as she puts on a baggy jacket, and you can only stare at her in shock “I’d take you out tonight but we got plans already and I’d like to do something better than just getting drunk and talk about the show with you” she finally turned around and it would be a total lie to say you don’t look nervous because you can see her laughing a bit as she stares at you.

“Yeah, just…. send me a message tomorrow morning” you said trying your best to sound as confident as her. she just nodded and walked out of the room. later that night when you were with the band as usual, celebrating another show, you two could only stare at each other. She always sat besides you, but that night she was touchier than usual and fuck you needed to see her again, alone.

Just as you woke up you checked on your phone and gladly, a message from Abby was the first thing you saw. She just remind you to not go out since you had plans with her. You two kept talking most of the morning, planing where to go and what to do. Finally you two decided to go to some quite fancy restaurant to have dinner.

And the day felt eternal, even though you had to work that day you could only overthink about the whole situation and the date you had later with Abby. And it was the same for her because as confident as she looks and acts in front of you she was almost dying yesterday when she first asked you to go out and you wouldn’t answer, she was also overthinking, a lot, an repeating the scene in her head over and over.

Abby had offered to pick you up and drive you home as well because “it’s dangerous for you to be alone” so when night came and your phone vibrated you got shivers all over your body.

The date was way better than you expected, you feared it might be awkward but it was the total opposite. Maybe it helped the past weeks of pure tension between both or the fact that most of the time you were flirting with each other, but whatever it was it doesn’t really matter as long as you get any chance with her.

Once she drive you home she ask you to stay just a bit more, so now you’re both outside your apartment’s building, just sitting in the car, staring at each other in silence.

“Can I kiss you?” you see her eyes wandering over you as her hands cup your face, and suddenly you’re pressing your lips over hers for some seconds that feel eternal, until she pulls away.

“you’re so fucking pretty you know that?” her hands are still on your face yet she moves them rapidly and turns her face to her window, to which you laugh “what’re you doing?”the light from the outside reflects on her as she turns her face back to you “doing what?” her eyes move to your lips once again “look away” you reply.

“Because” a nasal chuckle comes out of her and her smile wides a bit. her arm moves again to your face and as her fingers touch your lips you open your mouth slightly “I gotta go abs” as you speak her thumb goes slightly into your inner lips “why?” you notice how she furrows her eyebrows slightly and her eyes finally meet yours.

“It’s too late already and I have to work tomorrow, all day” a small chuckle comes out of your mouth “Come here then” she moves her arms to the back of your neck and pulls you again for another kiss.

“Thanks for today, I swear I’ll make it up to you” you grab your bag and open the door, looking at her one last time “you better do”.

#lesbian #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby fluff #abby headcanons #abby x you #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #ren masterlist ᵎᵎ ִ ۫ ּ ⊹

[campaignskyjacks]

The more I think about piracy, the more I believe it is the most structurally sound work situation under capitalism.

Every pirate ship was a worker owned company. If you were part of the crew, you were a literal shareholder. You got paid at least one share out of whatever venture you were involved with, and you got to vote on what the ship would do and who would be captain. That's already a pretty ideal situation, but it gets better.

The Captain is paid a double share as the position was seen as difficult and important work. But that is only twice as much as your general crew. Compare that to today's CEO and it's laughable how much more reasonable it is. It goes even further than that though.

The Captain is likely actually working way more than the rest of the crew. Most pirate ships were heavily overstaffed. The general strategy was you would catch up to a prize, board their ship and have like 200 guys. Merchant ships were staffed by capitalists, so they favored lean staffing. They wanted to pay as little wage as possible to maximize profit on the cargo they were transporting. A ship that would be comfortably staffed by 40 was probably being run by 25 to 30. Pirate ships would have way more people, so if they caught up to you there would be absolutely no way you could fight them off.

All of that means pirates didn't actually have to work that hard¹. There were way more people than actual things to do on a pirate ship. Even considering the fact that there is alot to do to keep a ship running, it's diffused over so many people that you really have a lot of down time as a crew. People like the Capitain, the quartermaster, the navigator, the doctor, or the cook all got somewhere between 1.2-2 shares, but they are working so much more than the average buckaneer.

I know some of you must be thinking "well that sounds very nice but the job gets pretty ugly when you're raiding." And the answer there is sort of. Pirates most certainly engaged in some pretty unsavory work and as crew you would be on the front lines of a lot of that. However situations where crew were actually getting in fights and putting their lives in the line were not the norm. A lot of the time pirates were hitting merchant ships, which once again were really understaffed. These people aren't crazy these people are hired to do a job so they're not going to throw their lives away over a couple dozen barrels of coffee or spice. Most of the time a pirate ship would catch up with a merchant ship, raise black flags, and and the captains of each ship would negotiate a surrender. Most of the time pirates were not requesting all of the cargo because the ideal situation is being able to hit the same ship over and over. You want to skim enough cargo that whoever commissioned the merchant ship isn't going to gripe too much about cargo being lost and complain to the navy. That way your crew can have a steady stream of whatever goods coming through to keep your vessel afloat. So most pirate merchant relationships were pretty transactional. The pirates would show up the merchants would give up abortion of their goods and everybody would go on their way.

Which means most of the time your average crew didn't have to do shit!

Pirates also had benefits. Remember when I mentioned you were going to be paid out "at least" one share? Well, if you lost a limb or something in the line of duty you would be afforded bonus shares to compensate the loss. They had entire systems of calculating disability compensation based on what injuries could be expected and how they saw it affecting your life. So if something bad did happen, you'd have pay to cover it.

It gets even better than this. The name "buckaneer" comes from "barbacoa" which was a type of mobile grill that was popular aboard ships². The folks who sailed were so commonly associated with these grills that people created a nickname for the profession based on the grills they used all the time. You'd see a privateer or a pirate at Port Royal and go "oh look, it's one of those guys who barbecues all the time."

Also, they were fucking queer. You've probably already heard that the term "matey" was a form of piratical gay marriage. If you designated someone else on the crew as your mate, if you died your share would go to them. I have to acknowledge that there is a slight chance that this isn't a 100% gay practice, there are conceivably reasons that someone might identify another person as their mate that doesn't have to do with romance or sex. Not a lot of pirates were literate and not many of them kept records of day-to-day life that really survived for historians to document. We can guess but in most circumstances we don't know for sure. But come on, grow the fuck up. These seadogs were banging.

Piracy and the type of sailing adjacent to piracy was a way for a person to make a life for themselves very far away from most of European society. And because of the way gender roles existed at the time, it's pretty much only men hanging out with men. If you happen to have desires that are unpopular at that time which involve other men, this is a pretty good situation for you.

So yeah piracy is a worker owned endeavor with reasonable compensation for management, benefits, frequent barbecues, and plenty of downtime to have all the queer sex you want.

It's one one those things that only exists because of capitalism, but as a response and a rebuke to it. These were endeavors that were so much more reasonable and fair then the legitimate businesses operating at the time.

And yes there were horrors. There was fighting and killing, torture, and worse. That is what the capitalists and colonizers would like us to remember. These things did really happen. However part of that was an effort to preserve and defend this better life people had made for themselves. To keep it alive inspire of the corporations and nations who would exploit or destroy their way of life.

So yeah, there was a lot about piracy that was violent and fucked up. But the truly wild thing is that it probably made more sense for the people involved then whatever you do right now. The next time you get bummed about your job or place in the world remember that piracy makes more sense.

Then go eat some barbecue and have queer sex.

¹This means in OFMD when Izzy was being a little piss baby about the Stede's crew not working hard enough he was 1000% wrong that's how the vast majority of pirates live their lives.

²Worth mentioning that these grills were originally used by native people, so this cool thing was adopted/appropriated by sailors. It did not originate with them.

#skyjacks #campaign podcast #pirates #our flag means death #anti capitalism

[laundrybiscuits]

“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they’d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

#new fic time YET AGAIN yes I know I have other things on the boil #seasonal things even #but I have recently spent 36 hours without sleep in airports/airplanes bc the nation of britain is 0% equipped to handle subzero temps #I literally kept myself sane by rereading nice comments I'd saved on my phone so thanks for that y'all #and I just needed to work on a thing that wasn't an angsty mid-90s Steve POV set in chicago; this was next on the docket #I'm just out here vibing with my Eddie & Robin: Gay BFFs agenda #obviously this will be steddie eventually but it feels disingenuous to tag on this part #fyi this will not be fully compliant with Rebel Robin but there may be some details drawn from the book/podcast #fic: purify our misfit ways

[igotanidea]

Babysitting: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: there's an easter egg in this story. Let me know if you get it :D

(testing some fandoms vigilance here) :D

"Me and Kori got some business to take care of."

That freaking sentence!

Of course he and Kori had business to take care of together. Not that he was my boyfriend. not that I was the one who was always left behind with Rachel, Gar and now also Conner and Tim.

Jealous? Of course I wasn't jealous.

Not even a little. I loved those kids.

But who the hell was I in this relationship, a babysitter?!

***

Let me put it straight: I am not hero. I have zero fighting skills (maybe except my wit. quoting someone I knew: sarcasm is my only defense) and I could not hurt a fly, let alone another human. But. I am smart. I am intelligent and I was determined enough to do something more with my life and became a lawyer.  Pretty unusual career for someone who was born and raised in Gotham (even If I moved out of this hell hole after graduation).  And yet, I made it. Feeling like I was doing something right, standing up for people, defending them. 

Well.

One day someone decided to put my thinking and beliefs to the test.

“Counsellor. You have a visitor.” Our new paralegal was kicking her heels nervously in front of my office.

“Ok, Amy, first of all calm down. That’s right. Deep breaths. Unless it’s Joker who came to visit me, I don’t see any reason for you to be so flustered. “ I raised an eyebrow at the girl, who all of a sudden turned red like a beetroot. “Amy?”

“I’m sorry, counsellor…..”

“How many times, do I have to tell you, you don’t need to use that title when we’re alone? You’re like what, five years younger than me?” I playfully shook my head at her

“Sorry, I …..”

“Never mind, we’ll talk about it later” a little pat on her shoulder was enough to bring her back to reality “Now. Who is there to see me?”

“Detective Dick Grayson. Bludhaven police.” Ok, now I understood why Amy was so nervous. This guy was really good looking and for a twenty-year-old that must have been a sight. I was far more reserved. In my years as a trainee solicitor I had my fair share of handsome lawyers, detectives and other officials. One way or another all of them were the same – pretty. Pretty conceited. So at this point, at the age of 25 I was not impressed solely by a lovely face.

“Well, morning detective. How can I be of help?” I reached my hand out and he shook it firmly.

“I need some information about an on-going case of yours.”

“All right. As soon as you prove to me you can get the access to the confidential records I can’t see any reason to deny it.” I shrugged and lead him into my office.

And that was how it started. One case somehow lead to another, and another and another. He might have thought he had me cornered, but I was a lawyer. My job was to see patterns and predict the outcomes of actions and behaviors. I had him figured sooner than he knew and before he realized I got him right when I wanted him when he confessed to switching out cases just to have a chance to work with me. And then, some well chosen words, two or three dates, some more or less heated kissed and we were a couple. Oh, how I loved this boy! Like crazy. And he was very eager to use that against me. 

“Detective Grayson? How can I be of help to you today?” I asked with my most professional voice noticing him standing at the entrance to my office. “And how long have you been standing there?” I smirked at him.

“Long enough” he pouted “you are just glowing when you’re working you know that? You have that irresistible spark in your eyes….” he closed the door coming closer to me and crouching on the desk eyeing me carefully.

“I’m sorry, how exactly did you get here?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“You know, Amy has a soft spot for me.” He put on his most charming smile.

“Yeah I’m aware of that. Clear sign I need to hire better security.”

“Is that so?” he grabbed me so I had to raise from the chair and stand between his legs.

“I’m busy, Dick.” I  objected pointing towards the pile of documents.

“Mhm. I bet you are” his hands was now on my waist, pulling me closer, his face inches away from mine “I am too. Extremely busy….” He whispered and leaned in, closing the distance completely. I hated him. He had the audacity to show up in my office, uninvited, in the middle of the day, with all his charm and distract me from my duties. He was reckless, irresponsible and childish. And a hell of a good kisser. Just a touch of his lips on mine made me want more as I let him caress my face and my back. Only for a second though, as my rational thinking made me  pull away and smirk at his disappointed expression.

“Oh, come on, Dickie. Don’t be a child….” I ruffled his hair and sat back down “Now, shoo. I really have a lot of work to do and if you want me back home tonight…..”

“Believe me, I have a whole plan for tonigh.” His eyes turned darker with lust as he said it.

“Can’t wait then. Hope you won’t disappoint me, detective.”

***

I came home late. Really late. Absolutely shagged, hoping my boyfriend would be there to ease my stress and anxiety with just his presence, but in fact I was about to be disappointed. The lights were off, the apartment cold and empty. No matter how sad it was for me I was a bit used to him working up late. He was a detective after all. Maybe he was at some undercover operation at the moment. Calling him was not an option since it may put him in danger, so trying to shake the emotions of the day by myself I just got ready to bed and before I realized I was dozing off.

I had no idea what hour it was, but at some point in the night I was woken by the squeak of the bed on the other side and a pair of arms sneaking around me. Dick was back safe.

“Hi.” I muttered, recognizing those hands and smell and shifting my position to get closer to him, resting my head on his chest.

“Hi baby” he whispered back, kissing my forehead and running a hand through my hair.

“Work?”

“You have no idea.” He sighed deeply and I caressed his side gently, trying to make him relax, but it didn’t bring the effect I wanted.

“Are you all right?” I was now totally awake, propping myself on the elbow to look straight into those beautiful blue eyes of his “are you hurt?” concern in my voice was so audible that a flash of pain crossed his face.

“I'm fine. I’m sorry I made you worried. And sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Honestly, I could never have a good sleep knowing you are out. Remind me why I agreed to have a detective boyfriend?“ I smirked but he was not in a mood for verbal teasing.

“I love you” he whispered closing his eyes, hiding everything there was inside, all the emotions kept under lock and key.

“Dick?” now I was serious too.

“Yes?” he opened them again and looked straight at me.

“You can tell me everything. There’s no need to hide. Whatever you did or whatever happened I have my ways to get you out of trouble.”

“I know. I know. I just love you so fucking much. I… I just need you next to me now, all right? Please?”

„That I can do” I laid back down, hugging him tightly, breathing him in, but at this very moment I knew something was off. We both held to each other, but it was more desperate than loving. More “I have a secret, I can’t tell you and it's killing me” than “I want to share my secret with you.”

***

I was spending another sleepless night alone just tossing and turning in the bed. Last three days was a disaster. At first glance nothing changed between me and Dick but under the surface …. Tormented by my own thoughts, I was truly thankful when my  work phone broke the silence of the night.

“Y/L/N speaking” my voice was still hoarse, but it didn't stop me from using official tone.

“We need you here, counsellor. It’s an emergency and it requires your immediate attention.”

“On my way. Where exactly is here?”

***

Holy shit! The place was a disaster! Blood, massacred bodies, about ten injured people and two destroyed buildings. And one person accused of it all on the run.

“How could you let him escape!?” I was about to tear my hair out, but there was no time as I had to deal with the witnesses and potential accomplices taken to custody. Those who apparently were aware of their civil rights and refused to say anything without lawyer present. And Bludhaven police called me to be this lawyer. Fine, after all I had nothing else to do. “You know what, don’t answer that, just… do your freaking job and find the gangster boss who….”

Before I could even finish the sentence, said  boss fell right in front of me.

“What the….?” I muttered looking up noticing the characteristic cape. The colors were a blur but everyone knew it was Robin. I sighed deeply and rubbed my forehead. Whoever was behind that mask I should have hated him, given how many laws he was breaking on a daily basis. The truth was, however, he was making my job slightly easier. And for that, ironically, I was thankful.

***

It took me another three days after which everything dawned on me. Dick was visiting my office every day, trying to get to know what I was working on and even when I refused to give away professional secrets, I knew he gathered some information. And then, miraculously, during night, all my perpetrators and criminals were brought to  police station by no one other than Robin. Of course he himself never showed up. I would have to be blind, deaf and stupid not to see the connection.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as soon as he stepped through my office again “and don’t give me that I don’t know what you’re talking about look. Let’s talk seriously, all right?”

“All right." he closed the door making sure it was shut tight and took a step towards me scratching his head "I’m sorry. I was worried that if you find out….”

“No.” I interrupted him.

“Sorry?” his surprised look made me use all the strength to hold back a laugh. He looked like a wigged kid.

“You don’t get to think so little of me. Did you really think I would leave? Or worse – was it the classic I was scared someone would hurt you bullshit? Dick, god damn it! I'm a lawyer. Do you have any idea how many times I got death threats? And here I am! Still alive and breathing! "

“I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“I’m also pretty case-hardened with keeping secrets, so I would never give yours away.”

“I know and….” He looked down, embarrassed and defeated under the weight of my arguments.

“I got a simple conclusion here: you are an idiot. Foolish, egoistic, inane….”

“Ok, that’s enough….” He stood up abruptly, making me shut up by kissing me, pulling me close so all my mind would get blurry and distracted by his toned chest, muscles and the way he was holding me, like his (or mine) life depended on it.

“Nice try, Grayson” I said pulling away too quickly for him to enjoy being in control of the situation.

“Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you.”

“You’re only proving my point here.  I'm not going anywhere. But no more keeping me in the dark, all right? I told you once - I can keep you out of trouble, not the other way round. After all, you are a wanted vigilante.”

“Whatever you say” he pulled me in a kiss again and this time I let him. But still, he was about to apologize properly when we were alone.

***

From then on, everything went quick. Rachel, Gar, Kori. Titans. San Francisco. Gotham again (meeting Batman was a bit weird, but enjoyable experience), Dick dying and coming back to life (I almost killed him for that when he magically resurected). Conner, Tim. Wild ride. Wild. Oh, and somewhere in the meantime Dick ditched Robin in favor of Nightwing. Well, he looked hot in this black and blue outfit and I couldn't...... back to the point!

But I didn’t mind as long as Dick kept his promise of not keeping me away. At least for as long as in his own words it started to get really dangerous. When he reopened the Titans tower, training Gar, Rachel and Jason, I was there, watching over them, helping them crack cases and even joining on the field. I felt like a part of a team. But slowly, especially after Jason left (from the time perpective I think he was the only one to ever understood how it felt like to be cut off) my role was more like a caregiver. I was there to take care of the wounds, to throw a joke or defuse tension. Of course, I was still giving some advice, some tricks on how to play bad guys psychologically etc. but I knew I was being omitted. Dick was more distant, more tensed and more reserved than before, not that I blamed him. But I missed him. I accepted his vigilante lifestile, never complaining, but I wanted to feel like he still needed me to be his. His girlfriend, equal to him (but maybe smarter) and not someone to look after a bunch of kids (who I loved, but still).

Me and Kori has some business to take care of.

Right.

In a while he was always doing something with Kori. I liked her, truly, we were pretty good friends, but it was not right. I mean, I get that, she was a freaking fire princess, gifted with supernatural powers, all confident and fierce. All I had was logical thinking, connecting facts, fast reacting, resourcefullnes and imagination. It was more than enough to be a lawyer, but apparently not to be a part of the Titans team.

I wasn't jealous of Kori, really. I didn't envy her, I was just sad that all my good traits weren’t enough for Dick to consider me a valuable member of the team. Never letting me into real action anymore, never allowing me to train with the rest, even Tim, who wasn’t exactly skilled with his gear. Always working with Kori. And I knew confronting Dick about it would end up the same way as years ago. I can’t risk you getting hurt. I don’t want to see you in pain. I’m only focused on you when you are out in the open. Well, I understood his point of view, one way or another he was right, can’t deny that, but he could not possibly be there for me all the time. I had to be able to be more than just an easy to hurt one.

“You good?” oh, now he was realizing something was happening. Great job, Sherlock.

“No, I’m not” I always prided myself of being honest and direct in my communication with him.  Boys can be so oblivious at times.

“Do we have to talk about it?” He looked at me carefully, his eyes begging me to postpone this conversation since he absolutely had to go investigate.

“Yes.” I nodded “Later. Now go.”

“Thank you.” He sighed and kissed my temple lovingly. I missed that.

“Go deal with that business of yours and come back to me. In one piece.”

“Promise.”

"Take care of him, ok?" I send Kori a sad look and she just nodded understanding everything he couldn't.

***

“Hey, brief, are you ok?” Conner used the nickname steming from the times I forgot knocking me out of my trance. Eventually, I ended up back at Star Labs with Conner and Tim, watching them fight against each other. Or rather Conner standing in place and taking poorly aimed Tim’s punches without flinching in the slightest.

“Take a guess.” I muttered “you should aim a bit lower, Tim”

“What?” the newly-appointed Robin looked at me confused.

“Lower” I emphasized “Conner may be superboy, but he’s still half human. And humans have weak points, so aim lower.”

Tim shrugged in a whatever  manner, but stuck to my advice and to both, his and Conner’s surprise the latter hissed in pain.

“What the…..?” Superboy gasped turning his gaze on me. So did Tim and Bernard.

“Do you want to tell us something, Y/N?” the scientist asked “are you hiding some supertalents?”

“Just observational skills. Mixed with experience in medical records during my lawyer times.”

“That is interesting. You see anything else to use against Conner?”

“Wait. What? Use against me? I did not sign up for this!” Conner protested watching as my eyes twinkled in excitement. Now, I had my chance to prove to them I was more than met the eye.

***

“What is going on here?!”

“Oh, hey, Dick, your back. How was your business?” I brushed the sweat from my forehead and smiled at him. I couldn’t remember last time I was so happy and fulfilled. For the last two hours I was sparring with the boys under Bernard’s watchful gaze. It was exhilarating. “She’s the business I suppose.”

“Not voluntarily.” The pink-haired girl smirked “so you’re the girlfriend he was worried about on the way here?”

“I was not worried…..”

“I’m sorry about him. He can be …. Intense…” I cut Dick off. "I'm Y/n?"

“Tell me about it” she rolled her eyes “I’m Jinx.”

“The witch? Can you show me any spell to …..”

“All right. Y/n, I think we need to have that talk now.” my boyfriend, if that was still the case grabbed my hand and started dragging me away.

“It was nice to meet you, Jinx. I’ll catch you up later!” I managed to say in her direction before Dick picked me up and threw me over his shoulder still walking away. "Put me down, now!"

***

“What were you doing there?”

“It turns out, I'm pretty good at finding opponents weakness and turning it against them”

“Tim being the opponent?” Dick laughed

“Conner, in fact. And don;t be condescending.”

“What?!”

“Mhm. Did you know that he has a soft spot just right under his belly button? I might have bruised him with the impact I put there.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah. So many years of wasted potential." I blew a raspberry "And that’s because of someone who has been treating me like a babysitter for the past couple weeks.”

“You mean me? I never…..” I cleared my throat suggestively and it made him hesitate “ok, maybe I did. But you never said a word!”

“Because I knew it would lead to fighting with you. And despite everything I hate seeing you lose those arguments. Come on, you always surrender in verbal sparring.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s always you and Kori going everywhere together, dealing with stuff together, cracking cases together. I felt like I wasn't needed anymore. Apart from watching over kids.”

“Because they trust you. You are a role model for them.”

“One of the role models, Dick. Just one. And that’s nice. I just want you to realize I am so much more than just a bystander.”

“I don’t…..”

“Blah, blah, blah. I know all your arguments inside and out. Hurt, pain, loss… Please."I rolled my eyes at him "I’m good, all right? I want to learn to fight.”

“Are you jealous of Kori? There’s no need.”

“You idiot” I smacked his head. Lightly but he still hissed and looked at me with hurted expression. “You don’t get a word I'm saying! I am not jealous of her. I'm furious beacuse of you treating me different than anyone else!"

“Because you are the one I love!”

“I love you too." I said, more sofly, more gently and locked my hands on his neck, playing with the hair on his nape. That little gesture always made him relax and this time was no different as he hummed in pleasure "but I never told you to stop fighting, did I?"

"No...." he leaned into my touch so just to tease him I withdrew my hands. "Please, don't stop" soft, almost inaudible whisper got me melting "I missed that....."

"So, you agree with me that you've been pushing me away."

"I never said that and ....." I kissed him before he said anything else. Oh, the way it turned him on instantly.... Out of instinct his hands found their place on my waist holding onto me, caressing my skin, bringing me closer. Clearly he did miss me. I almost gave up, so lost in his touch, his warmth, wanting more and more and ......

"So, you agree with me....." I pulled away, not letting him get away with answer this easily.

"Yes, I fucking agree with everything you are saying." He rested his forehead on mine. "I'm sorry. I never meant to push you away. Never meant to make you feel like you didn't belong. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hm, I know" I hummed "you would be absolutely lost. And probably dead. More than once."

"Mhm" he muttered. "Please I need you. You are like the only stable thing in my life...."

"I'm always here, Dick" I hugged him tighly, knowing well enough he was on the verge of breaking from the last weeks' stress and pressure and in desperate need of comfort and warm embrace "I'm always here. But I don't want to be a liability, ok? Or a housemother."

"Ok....." he held me tighter, not ready to let go.

"Let me train. I won't go against you, but please...." I kissed his temple, not to make him break, but just to assure him I was going to be fine. That we were going to be fine.

"Ok....." he chuntered "I'm tired....."

"I know, Dickie, I know. But you are not alone in this mess, babe. You are not alone."

Guess I was babysitting again. but this time, out of my own volition, and the fact that I had a choice in the matter made me feel good. After all, he was my baby.

@somest1

@pinksirensong

#dc #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x oc #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson #nightwing #dc titans #dc titans x reader #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #conner kent #superboy #tim drake #red robin

[katnisspeetaprim]

Bully Part.1

Bang Chan/Reader, Platonic!Felix/Reader

Summary: You loved your life and career, but the new stylist at JYP brings up some memories you would rather forget.

Warnings: angst, bullying, panic attacks, crying, arguments, flinching during argument.

Word Count: 2481 M.list

Your life was pretty much perfect at this moment in time, at least according to yourself. You had your own house and car, even landed your dream job which you had spent years studying and apprenticing for.

The day you became one of the head stylists at JYP, was one of the best days of your life, having worked you way up from lowly intern. You mainly worked with the Twice girls these days, but you originally started out with Stray Kids, which is how you met Chan.

The two of you immediately hit it off, quickly realising that there was something more than friendship going on. The two of you dated secretly for quite a while, but as soon as the dating ban was removed from their contracts, you both went straight to JYP, thinking it would be better to be truthful in the long run.

The older man looked at the two of you like a disappointed father looking down at his children, who had been caught doing something naughty. JYP was understandably upset that the two of you were dating but he wasn’t about to stop you, especially since you’ve already proved you can work without distraction.

Romance between idols and the staff wasn’t banned after all, just strongly discouraged.

It was after going public with the relationship did you think it would be better to move to one of the other groups style teams, this way you could both avoid unsavoury rumours  floating around, but also prove that you could still maintain a professional relationship whilst at work. This is how you came to be a head stylist for Twice.

Your departure from the Stray Kids team had left your position open, and tis is what lead to your current predicament......

It had been a few weeks since your move, so you and Chan would usually be waiting a little while for the other to finish for the day, since your rode home together. Today though, you had been waiting for nearly an hour for him in the parking lot. Annoyed by his lateness, you shot off a text to him. Within moments, you got a reply.

You groaned in annoyance. You had no problem with him going out, but a heads up would have been nice. In all honesty, you’d been so busy recently, you’d forgotten that they’d already hired your replacement. At least you were the one to drive that morning so you weren’t stranded.

Just as you were about to start the car, a knock on your window startled you. You looked over to see the smiling faces of Momo and Jeongyeon. You rolled down your window with a smile.

‘Y/N! We thought it was your car. You left over and hour ago, why are you still here?’

‘Oh, I was waiting for Chan, but I forgot that he had plans tonight.’ You explained sheepishly, feeling only a little embarrassed that you’d waited over an hour for a guy. Momo and Jeongyeon shared a look.

‘Well we were planning on getting food together. If you’re free, why don’t you join us?’

‘Why not?’ You found yourself smiling as you exited the car. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d hung out with the girls outside of work, so at least you knew you would still have a good night, with or without Chan.

It was late when you got home. Knowing you had to be up early the next morning, you wanted to get in bed asap.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find all the lights off and the home eerily quiet. You were confused as you toed off your shoes. Chan wasn’t usually one to sleep early but just in case, you tip toed to the bedroom to check on him, only to find it empty.

You tried to stay calm, but worry began to wash through you. It wasn’t like Chan to stay out this late and not even send so much as a text. You pulled out your phone and hit the call button, your anxiety only sky rocketing when he didn’t answer. Finally, on the fourth call did he answer you.

‘Chan!’

‘Babe! We’re gonna be late! Don’t wait up!’ ‘click’ You stared at your phone in disbelief. There was loud music and shouting in the background so he was obviously out at some kind of club. Sigh. At least you knew he was safe...

When you awoke the next morning, you rolled over, only to collide with a fully clothed Chan. He was laid out on his back, on top of the sheets and still in his clothes from the night before.

Now Chan doesn’t drink so you knew he wasn’t hungover, but if he got in and just flopped down in bed, then it must have been late or early. Your alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so you quickly reached for it and turned off your 6am alarm, not wanting to wake him just yet.

‘You worried me last night.’ You whispered to yourself and gently stroked his hair, causing him to stir slightly. Not wanting to wake him, you pulled away and got up.

Just as you were getting on your shoes to leave, Chan wondered into the main room, rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes.

‘Hey, if you wanted a lift you should get dressed, we’ll be late otherwise.’ You were a little annoyed at his tardiness, but decided it could wait till later.

‘I don’t ned to be in till later. I might go sleep a while longer.’ He was almost falling asleep at the kitchen counter. Cute. You smiled and strolled over to him.

‘Did you have a good time last night?’ You stroked across his broad shoulders as he hunched over the table. ‘With the new stylist?’ He perked up at the mention of the new staff member.

‘Oh she’s great! If you’re free today at some point, you should come by and I’ll introduce you! I think you’ll get on great!’ You laughed at his enthusiasm, glad that JYP had hired friendly staff.

‘I’m glad! And I’ll definitely make time to come by, but now I really have to go.’ You leaned down and kissed him goodbye.  ‘I’ll see you later, love you!’

You’d had a particularly busy day, what with the new Twice comeback happening soon, you didn’t get to visit the Stray Kids studio till late in the day.

When you entered the room, the first person to notice you was Han.

‘Noona!’ He yelled, causing the other boys heads to shoot up.

‘Hi guys!’ They all ran up to you, hugging you in greeting. You didn’t get to see the guys that much these days, only getting updates from Chan, so this was a real treat to see them all again.

‘Alright boys, calm down.’ You giggled.

‘Y/N, I didn’t think you were going to show up.’ Chan pushed through the rowdy boys and hugged you.

‘I said I’d be here, didn’t I?’

‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’

‘Oh are you here to meet Jia-noona?’ Hyunjin asked with a smile. A chorus of compliments for the woman came from all the boys as Chan lead you across the room.

‘Jia! Meet my girlfriend Y/N!’ When the woman stood and spun round, your breath hitched in your throat and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe. Stood in front of you was Park Jia, the girl who had made your whole school life miserable. She had been the typical mean girl, while you were more of a hermit, preferring to keep yourself to yourself.  Naturally she saw you as easy target and basically tortured you daily.

‘Y/N, nice to meet you! Chan’s told me so much about you already!’  She reached out her perfectly manicured hand for you to shake. You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching when she reached out for you, casing Chan to look over to you, shocked by your actions. Your mouth was so dry you couldn’t speak. She didn’t recognise you. After the hell she put you through, how could she not recognise you!?

Now you definitely changed a lot since your school years, but did your life really mean so little to this woman that she’d forgotten you?

‘Y/N? You ok?’ Chan suddenly called out, gently stroking your back and bringing you back to reality. ‘You spaced out there.’

‘Um yeah uh-umm yeah sorry. I-I have to go.’ You stuttered, not knowing what to do but knowing that you couldn’t stay in that room any longer. You basically pushed your way out of the room, running down the hallway, all while trying to not have a panic attack.

Back in the room, everyone stood with confused faces.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ Jia asked Chan with a frown, his eyebrows furrowed.

‘No. No. Y/N can just be a little weird sometimes.’ Chan’s answer caused the other SKZ members to cast questioning looks to each other. They may not see you as much as they used to, but during your time with them you had all gotten pretty close. None of them had every seen you react to a situation quite like you had just done.

‘Are you sure she’s ok? She seemed upset..’ Felix asked, concerned for you.

‘I hope I didn’t do anything to upset her.’ Jia’s sickeningly sweet voice floated across the room.

‘Nah she’s just emotional, her period is probably coming. I’ll deal with it later.’ Felix frowned deeply at his leader. Why was Chan dismissing you like that when something had clearly upset you.

Whilst everyone was distracted by Jia, Felix silently slipped out of the room and went to find you.

He found you, sitting alone in a small office, quietly sobbing to yourself.

‘Y/N!’ He rushed over to you and put his arm around your shoulders. In an attempt to hide your tears, you wiped at your face to no avail.

‘Felix. Is everything ok?’ He looked at you quizzically.

‘I should be asking you that! You ran out of the room!’ You looked down in defeat, knowing you couldn’t keep this from your friend.

‘I couldn’t stay in there one second longer because of her.’ You said with shaky breath.

‘Yeah I gathered that.’ Felix let out a humourless chuckle. ‘But why though?’ He pressed you for an answer. You looked up to him with sad eyes, before taking a deep breath.

‘She bullied me in school.’ Felix’ face morphed into shock, but he let you continue speaking.

‘But it wasn’t normal bullying. She and her minions would do awful things to me, make me do things... And I thought I was free when I left for college.’ You started sobbing again as you explained, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Felix swallowed a lump in his throat, but he had to ask.

‘What do you mean, not normal bullying? What did they make you do?’ You looked down and shook your head vigorously. You weren’t ready to talk and Felix wasn’t going to force you.

‘I don’t know what to do. Coming to work everyday knowing she’s here, and Chan seems to love her...’ Felix winced at your words. You weren’t wrong about that, the guy seemed smitten with her. He wasn’t even going to tell you how Chan spoke about you once you left the room.

‘He needs to know Y/N. We can tell him together and he’ll speak to the company. JYP will back you I know it.’ You licked your dry lips and nodded.

‘I’ll tell him at home. I just need to think about what to say.’ You sniffled.

‘You sure you don’t need me there with you?’ You nodded with a sniff. Felix nodded and pulled you into a tight hug.

‘I’m here if you need me.’ You were grateful to have such a caring friend like Felix.

‘You should get back.’ You nudged him away lightly. He sighed, not really wanting to leave you alone, but knowing you were right.

‘Ok, but remember what I said.’

Just as your day was ending, you spotted Chan walking towards you from down the hall. Your smile faltered a little when you noticed the expression on his face. He didn’t look happy.

‘Hey. You ready to go?’ You asked nervously as he all but bumped your shoulder as he passed.

‘I got a lift in so you need to drive.’ Is all he said to you, no ounce of warmth in his voice after the long day. You stared after him, mouth agape and not believing how he just brushed you off like that. When you caught up to him, he was already standing by your car and he was practically dripping with irritation.

‘Hurry up.’ He spat. Without a word, you unlocked the car and got in, followed by the slam of the door as he did the same.

‘What are you waiting for? He groaned when you just sat there.

‘Why are you treating me like this?’ You mumbled, eyes cast down.

‘Why do you think?’ Chan scoffed. You didn’t answer, but looked at him with sad eyes.

‘You fucking embarrassed me today Y/N! Acting like that with Jia? Unbelievable.’ He exploded on you, hitting the dashboard hard with his hand. You stared at him, shocked at his outburst.

‘Do you have nothing to say for yourself?’ You flinched away at his harsh words and honestly you were a little scared after he hit the dash. You knew Chan would never lay a finger on you in that way, but right now, this didn’t seem like the man you fell in love with...

‘I didn’t act like that for no reason...’ You trailed off, not really in the mood to talk anymore.

‘You know what? I’m gonna stay at the dorms tonight. I can’t be around you right now.’ And with that he was gone, once again slamming your poor car door.

‘Wait...’ You tried meekly, but it was too late. You broke down for the second time that day.

You remembered Felix’ words from earlier and not feeling good about being alone, you text him.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he agreed to meet you, but the relief was short lived when your phone pinged once again. It was Chan and your heart absolutely shattered when you saw his messages.

You locked your phone and threw in in the backseat. You knew you should have just ignored his messages and give him a chance to calm down, but you felt your blood boil when he defended her again.

The phone was vibrating continuously behind you. Probably Chan trying to call you to chastise you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look.

Even after all these years, why was she still ruining your life...?

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #fake text #smut #fluff #angst #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #minho #i.n #yang jeongin #seo changbin #han jisung #kim seungmin

[katiesbowlcut]

VICTORIA NEUMAN X ASSISTANT!READER

format: blurb

warnings: nsfw content at the end

word count: 700+

not proofread! y/n used!

- the second you came in for your interview she pretty much decided she was hiring you LMAO

- now i’m not saying she only hired you because of her crush, because your resume genuinely caught her eye, but i’m also not saying it had nothing to do with it 🤷‍♀️

- she definitely asks you to do things she could easily do just as an excuse to see you

- “y/n! can you come here please?”

- “can you pick up this pen i dropped please? i’ve got suchhh a bad back” she’s so dramatic i love her

- you honestly think she’s just being a bitch and she’s messing with you

- that is until one day she comes to you in the morning, saying today she only has one task for you

- “will you eat lunch with me?” and she has the dorkiest smile of all time on her face

- lunch together becomes a regular thing, going from talking about your favourite tv shows to her telling you about her daughter zoe

- she’s so sad when you eventually tell her you thought she was just like every person you’ve ever worked for, just messing with you for the fun of it

- “no no never! i could never do that, especially not to you” OOOOOO it’s blush city for you both

- things are going great! you love your job. that is until something changes, and victoria randomly stops asking you to do things for her

- i mean you’re her assistant, shouldn’t you be getting her coffee? shouldn’t you be organising her files? shouldn’t you be having lunch with her and not hughie?

- to say this has you down is an understatement, you can’t seem to understand why she has randomly shut you out

- it’s not like she’s not speaking to you, she’s still asking you to do things but they’re all tasks that require you to be away from her. you haven’t even been in her office for nearly two weeks now

- after your hurt builds and builds, you can’t hold it in anymore. you storm into her office demanding to know why she’s avoiding you

- she plays it dumb at first but she knows what she’s been doing so she fesses up

- “fuck… i’m sorry, so sorry. it’s not you i promise, it’s me. i- i like you, okay? like a lot and i know it sounds stupid and i know it’s sooo inappropriate because you’re my assist-“ SILENCED BY A KISS WOOOO

- you’re discrete about it at first, sneaking around and making out in the bathroom stalls like you’re high schoolers

- her bringing you lunch everyday<3

- she so leaves post-it notes on her desk with cute lil messages whenever she has to leave for meetings because it’s where she tells you to just relax

- you don’t bother asking why you’re not allowed to meetings that involve voughts CEO, it’s probably just a confidentiality thing right?

- a bit random but whenever you’re standing talking to somebody i feel like she’d just squeeze your butt?

- canon she’s a butt squeezer

- you don’t fight much but oh boy is your schedule full when you do

- she gives you the stupidest tasks she can think of LMAO

- “can you walk someone’s dog please?” “someone’s dog?” “yeah, just go around asking who has a dog that needs walking” “are you being serious, vic?” “yes i most definitely am, it would help me soooo much you have no idea!”

- I LOVE HER SO MUCHHH

- dating your boss can be annoying at times, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world <3

NSFW TIMEEEE

- officesex!officesex!officesex!

- this honestly deserves its own blurb if i'm being honest

- i feel like she's already dominant in bed anyways but because she’s your boss it’s elevated TO THE MAX.

- “i have one really special task for you today, so listen closely”

- you can barely stay stood up with how weak your knees go (real)

- “i need you to be a good girl for me, how does that sound? you think you can do that for me?” in her husky voice im DECEASED

- one time she cleared her desk by pushing everything on the floor, she immediately regretted it when she realised she had broken almost everything

- “i always see people do it in movies and this doesn’t happen” she’s so upset while she’s picking up a broken picture of you both on the beach

- she’s so silly

- she definitely buys you lingerie to wear underneath your work clothes 🤭

- the amount of flirty texts she sends you during the day just to watch you blush uncontrollably is concerning (when is it my turn)

a/n: requests are always open, hope you enjoyed :)

#victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #the boys #the boys x reader #genv #how do i apply for this job NOW #mother isn’t good enough to describe her #i need her every where #i need her anywhere #i need her #I NEED HERRRR

[bedupolker]

What was your journey towards working as a ranger?

I was dumped by a girl in animation college, so I did what any self-respecting nineteen year old would do: listen to a shit load of weezer and risk my life by rock climbing and hiking with inadequate gear and little to no experience. One day during an expedition I met a wise old ex-convict who told me there was a place I could hike and climb and listen to weezer every day without anyone telling me otherwise: the wilderness. He used to work at one of the restaurants at yosemite. Since I hate having money and affording things, instead of working I decided to volunteer, with Grand Canyon. I did audio video at first but quickly realized that it was stupid to do audio video at the Grand Canyon and I just hiked every weekend. I quickly learned that I could walk very fast in high temperatures, that this was probably my greatest talent yet. But alas I had to return to the city to finish animation college. I no longer cared about Steven Universe or Tangled, all I could think about was the sunbaked red rock that had forged me into the man I am today. Nothing made me feel more alive than being on the brink of heatstroke. I worked odd jobs, I even worked at a Patagonia and still own all the clothes I got from there to this day. I worked on an island with a prison on it. I worked in a climbing gym. But then, covid happened. I lost all my jobs. But I had something better than a job: two thousand dollars, plus unemployment, courtesy of daddy Uncle Sam. So I signed up for EMT school. It wasn't glamorous. My first day working as an EMT was also the day I learned that the California Minimum Wage was, in fact, less than fifteen dollars. I toiled as a covid tester, spelunking in nostrils of all shapes and sizes. But then, a beacon of hope: a nearby mountain was hiring for ski patrol. I didn't know how to ski at the time, but being a straight white man, if there's one thing I'm naturally good at it's being hired for jobs I'm massively under qualified for. It was one of the best jobs I'd ever had, I would've gone back if the housing situations wasn't one of the worst I'd ever had. I saw all kinds of blood, and bones, and learned all the ways a shoulder could pop out of a human's body. Very cool stuff. I also learned how to ski pretty well. But alas, spring came, and I had to come face to face with USAjobs dot gov. That's when my current supervisor contacted me. He had one question for my references: was I an alcoholic? My references both said no, I only drink at social events after work. And thus, I was hired. The rest is history.

[violet-rose-95]

Anything Helps: Kaori Growth Drive

Hey, just giving a quick update on what's been going on.

So... I'm not doing great financially. I was arrested last year, and I owe the court about 400 bucks, and I can't get a job to pay it off because no one is willing to hire me with charges on my record. If I don't pay them by March 1st, they'll become permanent convictions and I'll just be fucked for life, but I can't get a job to pay for it.

So my friend @riddleaugust put together a Pregnancy Cosplay Growth Drive for Kaori, to try to help raise money for me to help me out. If you've been following me, you know it was originally to help me get out of this transphobic household I live in, but I dunno if I'll ever get out of here if I don't get these charges off my record, so... yeah. The donations you guys gave me have been really helping me out the past few months; I was able to raise about $250 last time, and I've got it down to just about $100, I've been making it last for months and months. But a pregnancy growth drive can be a pretty good way to raise some money, especially if it's done by someone as awesome as RiddleAugust.

I've got the donation drive linked here, we still haven't reached our first stretch goal.

I'll also include Riddle's ko-fi link, here. Be sure to add "For Kaori" in the comments of any donations made so he can properly categorize them.

If you can donate to this, great, if not, that's fine, but can you maybe try to spread this around in other circles?

Thank you all again for your help in the past, it means more than you know.

[mickstart]

wait they managed not to broadcast any force india cars for a weekend?? when and why did this happen??

Oh this is a severely fucked up occurrence that I will try to stay brief about but. Basically in 2012 formula one raced in Bahrain as a pretty much implicit sportswashing measure (I'm wary of throwing the term around but f1 had cancelled the race in 2011 due to 'political unrest' aka mass protests from a civilian population that were being violently put down, and in 2012 were explicitly asked to return in what was seen by most as the Bahrain government trying to show they had returned to normal and there were definitely no more human rights abuses happening.) This was widely condemned by both international charities and local activists but Bernie insisted it was all good and they would race no matter what. To put into perspective how fucked the situation was, a protester was killed the weekend of the race.

(side note if you look into this deeper and actually investigate the politics going on behind a Motorsport pov a lot of drivers showed their asses here in their response and it's interesting especially in the case of Sebastian and Lewis how they reacted here VS how they would probably have reacted today.)

So that's. The background. Now here's the insane part. Obviously there were local protests against this, a lot of them. But only one incident really seemed to rattle f1 and that was a hire car of Force India mechanics had a petrol bomb thrown at it. Nobody was hurt but subsequently Force India decided not to participate in the later practice session so the staff could all return to their hotels before it got dark outside.

F1 was. Pissed. How dare you ruin our messaging. There is nothing wrong here, we're all having a great time here, there is no unrest whatsoever the government and their money are doing a great job. Also, this was back when news breaking on twitter was a fairly new concept so the process of these rumours coming out via twitter were very very messy and drew more attention to the sport.

So in what was probably an effort to avoid this online speculation and people demanding answers, during the first practice session, f1 decided the world was populated entirely by toddlers with no object permanence, and if they just didn't SHOW force india, nobody would remember to ask them about the force india petrol bomb rumours. So you had one session where every single team was getting screen time EXCEPT force india - like, I remember it being commented on as odd at the time - and a weekend where the camera kept cutting away from force india cars jarringly as much as it could.