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pesterloglog · 1 year ago

Text

Karkat Vantas, John Egbert

Act 5, page 2628

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

CG: ATTENTION WORTHLESS HUMAN.

CG: THIS IS YOUR GOD SPEAKING.

CG: IT IS A WRATHFUL GOD WHO DESPISES YOU MORE THAN YOU COULD HAVE POSSIBLY DARED TO FEAR.

CG: I HAVE WATCHED YOUR ENTIRE PATHETIC LIFE UNFOLD.

CG: I HAVE OBSERVED YOU WHILE YOU WOULD QUAKE AND TREMBLE IN PERSONAL PRAYERS OF SHAME.

CG: WHILE YOU PLEADED FORGIVENESS FOR BEING SUCH A WRETCHED DISGUSTING FAILURE ON EVERY CONCEIVABLE LEVEL.

CG: PROSTRATE BEFORE THE STUPID AND FALSE CLOWN GODS YOU HAVE SCRIBBLED ON THE WALLS OF YOUR BLOCK.

CG: BOGUS DEITIES WORSHIPED BY A PRIMITIVE "PARADISE" PLANET.

CG: BUT YOUR PRAYERS WILL NOT BE ANSWERED.

CG: THERE ARE NO MIRACLES IN STORE FOR YOU, HUMAN.

CG: ONLY MY HATE.

CG: IT IS A HATE SO PURE AND HOT IT WOULD CONSUME YOUR SAD UNDERDEVELOPED HUMAN THINK PAN TO EVEN CONTEMPLATE.

CG: IT IS A HATE THAT TO FATHOM MUST BE PUT INTO SONG.

CG: SHRIEKED BY THE TEN THOUSAND ROWDY SHOUT SPHINCTERS PEPPERING THE GRUESOME UNDERBELLY OF THE MOST TRUCULENT GOD THE FURTHEST RING CAN MUSTER.

CG: IT IS A HATE THAT MADE YOU AND WILL SURELY DESTROY YOU.

CG: MY HATE IS THE LIFEBLOOD THAT PULSES THROUGH THE VEINS OF YOUR UNIVERSE.

CG: IT IS MY GIFT TO YOU.

CG: YOU'RE WELCOME FOR THAT.

CG: YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT.

EB: hi karkat!

CG: WHAT

CG: HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME.

EB: oh man.

EB: this is it, isn't it?

EB: i've been looking forward to this!

CG: WHAT IS IT.

CG: ME HATING YOU IS WHAT'S IT.

CG: IF THAT'S WHAT YOU MEAN, YEAH, BINGO.

EB: no, i mean this is the first conversation between us, from your perspective.

EB: right?

CG: YEAH.

CG: ARE YOU SUGGESTING WE'VE SPOKEN BEFORE.

EB: yeah, lots of times!

EB: actually...

EB: i should introduce myself properly.

EB: hi karkat, i am john!

CG: JOHN, WHY WOULD I GIVE A PUNGENT WHIPPING LUMPSQUIRT WHAT YOUR NAME IS.

EB: because we are buddies!

CG: I ADMIT I AM NEW TO HUMAN SOCIAL CONSTRUCTS

CG: BUT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OUR RELATIONSHIP CAN OR WILL EVER BE DESCRIBED AS "EARTH HUMAN BUDDIES".

EB: yup, we totally are.

EB: we just became earth human buddies in a kind of weird way.

EB: you decide to keep talking to me backwards through my adventure.

EB: and then when you are done with that you come back and talk to me more recently on the timeline for a while.

EB: you talk to my friends a whole bunch too.

EB: you and your alternian troll buddies help me and my earth human buddies hatch a plan!

EB: which we are busy putting into motion right now, as you can see.

CG: THESE ARE LIES.

CG: I KNOW WHEN I AM BEING TROLLED, WHO DO YOU EVEN THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO HERE.

CG: I AM YOUR GOD, REMEMBER.

EB: yeah yeah, i know.

CG: WHY WOULD I TROLL YOU BACKWARDS? THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE.

CG: AND WHY WOULD I HELP YOU AND YOUR IDIOT FRIENDS?

CG: I WOULD JUST BE HELPING YOU BLUNDER DOWN THE PATH THAT ENDS WITH YOU OPENING THE RIFT LIKE A BUNCH OF MORONS.

EB: you mean the scratch?

CG: WHATEVER.

EB: yes! that is the plan.

EB: you yourself said it was the only hope now.

CG: RIDICULOUS.

CG: I DIDN'T WRIGGLE OUT OF A PUDDLE OF SLIME YESTERDAY.

CG: THAT WAS SEVERAL WEEKS AGO, OK?

EB: heheheh.

CG: I DO NOT THINK YOU APPRECIATE THE GRAVITY OF MY ANTIPATHY, JOHN HUMAN.

EB: egbert.

CG: OK, HUMAN EGBERT.

CG: I FUCKING LOATHE YOU, AND I HAVE TUNED INTO YOUR CHANNEL MOMENTS BEFORE THE ERADICATION OF YOUR TIMELINE AND THAT SMUG LOOK ON YOUR FACE, WITH JUST ENOUGH TIME FOR ME TO BASICALLY COMPLETELY FUCKING DESTROY YOU WITH HOSTILE RHETORIC.

CG: THERE IS NO CHANCE I WILL EVER HELP YOU.

CG: YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I HATE YOU OR WHY I HATE YOU.

CG: I WASN'T JOKING WHEN I SAID I WAS YOUR GOD, LIKE THAT WASN'T JUST A LOT OF BRAVADO AND USELESS PISSING AROUND.

CG: I AM LITERALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR EXISTENCE.

CG: WE BEAT THE GAME YOU ARE PLAYING AND CREATED YOUR UNIVERSE.

CG: WE WERE GOING TO ENTER YOUR UNIVERSE AND RULE OVER IT.

CG: LIKE TYRANTS.

CG: IT WAS TO BE OUR PLAYTHING, JOHN.

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SWEET IT WAS GOING TO BE.

CG: BUT THEN WE COULDN'T CLAIM OUR PRIZE BECAUSE OF THAT MONSTROSITY YOU SPRUNG ON US.

EB: man...

EB: i knoooow.

EB: none of this is news to me, karkat!

EB: but to be quite honest, it doesn't sound like your intentions were all that great.

EB: wanting to be tyrants and all.

EB: maybe you got what you deserved, you stutid fuckass!

CG: STUTID?

CG: WOW, YOUR SPECIES REALLY IS BRAINDEAD.

EB: eh, it's an in-joke, never mind.

EB: anyway, hey!

EB: i thought this was supposed to be the conversation where you do all that AMAAAAAZING TROLLING!

EB: come on bro, flame me!

EB: i have been really excited about this.

CG: YOU ACTUALLY WANT ME TO TROLL YOU?

CG: I MEAN

CG: DON'T WORRY, I CAN AND I WILL, AND IT WILL BE A GODDAMN BLOODBATH WHEN I GET STARTED.

CG: IT'S JUST KIND OF WEIRD YOU'RE EXCITED ABOUT IT, IS THAT NORMAL FOR YOUR RACE?

EB: um...

EB: i don't know, probably not.

EB: i just think it's kind of funny when you do it.

CG: THAT'S REALLY CONDESCENDING AND IT'S HARD TO CONVEY HOW MUCH MORE I JUST GOT PISSED OFF THAN I ALREADY WAS.

CG: BUT MAYBE IT MAKES SENSE ACTUALLY

CG: THAT YOU WELCOME MY ACRIMONY SO READILY

CG: ON ACCOUNT OF PROBABLY SOME WEIRD GLAND HUMANS HAVE, LIKE A PUNISHMENT THROBBER OR SOME SILLY SOUNDING THING LIKE THAT.

CG: IT MIGHT MEAN THAT I'M RIGHT ABOUT YOU.

EB: right about what?

CG: I MEAN THAT IT SEEMS LIKE WE ARE CONNECTED IN SOME WAY, DON'T YOU THINK JOHN.

CG: SORT OF COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE OUR HATE FOR EACH OTHER IS SO STRONG IT MUST HAVE BEEN WRITTEN IN THE STARS.

CG: YOU KNOW, THE ONES I FUCKING MADE FOR YOU.

EB: ha ha, i don't hate you!

CG: HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY CLAIM TO HAVE TALKED TO ME A LOT ALREADY AND NOT HATE ME, SEE IT DOESN'T ADD UP.

EB: wait...

EB: are you saying that we are kisme-whatevers?

CG: WHAT, NO.

CG: WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, THAT WOULD BE SUCH A BRAZEN SOLICITATION.

CG: IT'S INSULTING.

CG: I MEAN

CG: OK I'M NOT SAYING I'M RULING OUT THE IDEA OR ANYTHING.

CG: LIKE IF LATER OVER TIME YOU STARTED REALLY HATING ME MORE

CG: LIKE REALLY GOT TO KNOW ME AND FOUND OUT ABOUT HOW MUCH THERE WAS TO HATE

EB: er...

CG: BUT... IN THE PAST I GUESS? I'M JUST SAYING WHO KNOWS WHAT COULD HAPPEN.

CG: OR HAS ALREADY HAPPENED.

EB: uh.

CG: FUCK WHAT AM I BABBLING ABOUT.

CG: THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS, WE JUST MET FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

CG: AND IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE EVER GOING TO MEET IN PERSON, SO IT'S ALL A MOOT POINT.

CG: SO FORGET I SAID ANYTHING.

CG: GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.

EB: well...

EB: i just didn't really have any idea that you had any sort of feelings like that, so i am kind of caught off guard.

CG: WHAT FEELINGS, THERE ARE NO FEELINGS, END OF DISCUSSION.

EB: hey, i don't have a problem with your weird sort of alien hate-love thing!

EB: it is just that, uh...

CG: WHAT

EB: i am not a homosexual.

CG: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

EB: it is like, when a boy likes another boy.

EB: or i guess hates, in this case.

CG: HUMANS HAVE A WORD FOR THAT?

EB: yes.

CG: HOW IS THAT EVEN A THING?

EB: shrug. it just is.

CG: HUMAN ROMANCE SURE IS WEIRD.

EB: i am just as confused by your troll shenanigans.

EB: so many shenanigans!

EB: anyway, i kind of got the impression that you and terezi were a thing.

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN A THING.

EB: like, i dunno.

EB: going on weird fight dates and beating the crap out of each other, and being in hate-love or love-hate.

EB: isn't that how it works?

CG: YOU ARE SUCH AN IGNORAMUS I COULD SHIT MILES OF RAGE SNAKE TO CHOKE YOU TO DEATH.

EB: ew.

CG: WHO HAVE YOU BEEN TALKING TO, WHAT HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THAT.

EB: um, i talked to you...

EB: and her...

EB: and some others. i don't know! like i said it's just a sense i got.

EB: sorry!

CG: OK FIRST OF ALL, IF THERE WERE A "THING" WITH HER, AND THAT'S A HUGE IF

CG: IT WOULD BE A TOTALLY DIFFERENT QUADRANT THAN WHAT WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT.

EB: oh god, the quadrants...

CG: SECOND, WHETHER SHE AND I HAVE A THING OR DON'T HAVE A THING, OR TOOK A ROMANTIC HOT AIR BALLOON RIDE SUSPENDED IN A GODDAMN FILIAL PAIL TOGETHER

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY NONE OF YOUR FUCKING EARTH BUSINESS, EGBERT HUMAN JOHN.

CG: GOT IT????????

EB: ok, sheesh!

EB: karkat, i am going to be honest...

EB: this first conversation is not going how i thought it would at all!

EB: it is really kind of...

EB: awkward.

CG: YEAH

CG: WOW, IT IS

EB: yeah...

CG: HUH.

EB: well...

EB: um...

CG: OK, LOOK.

CG: LET'S JUST AGREE TO NEVER BRING IT UP AGAIN.

CG: THE STUFF I WAS BABBLING ABOUT EARLIER.

EB: yeah, well we never really talked about it in the past, so i guess we do agree to that.

CG: BUT IF I TALK TO YOU AGAIN

CG: IN YOUR FUTURE, LIMITED THOUGH IT IS

CG: YOU'LL REMEMBER MY EMBARRASSING SHIT

CG: SO I GUESS

CG: I'LL HAVE TO TROLL YOU BACKWARDS?

EB: told you bro!!!!!!!

EB: hahahaha.

CG: YOU REALLY ARE A SMUG NOOK WHIFFER, JOHN EGBERT.

CG: I THINK WE NEED TO GET BACK ON POINT HERE.

CG: WHICH IS ADDRESSING THE MATTER OF WHAT INCOMPREHENSIBLY PUTRID GARBAGE YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS ARE AND HOW MUCH I HATE YOU.

EB: you mean platonic hate?

CG: SHUT THE FUCK UP, WE AREN'T TALKING ABOUT THAT, REMEMBER.

EB: oh yeah.

CG: SO YOU WANTED TO GET TROLLED, WELL YOU GOT IT.

CG: PREPARE TO GET YOUR PUNY HUMAN BULGE FLAMED INTO NUCLEAR HATEBLIVION.

CG: WELCOME TO THE TROLLOCAUST. THE PAINSTAKING GENOCIDE OF YOUR FRAGILE SELF ESTEEM WILL BE MY SWAN SONG.

EB: oh boy, this sounds great.

EB: but...

EB: we're out of time!

EB: i have to go put this plan into motion.

CG: OH I SEE, TAKING THE COWARD'S WAY OUT.

CG: SCAMPERING OFF TO GET ANNIHILATED BY A DEADLY RIFT, HOW CONVENIENT.

CG: WELL FINE, SAYONARA YOU WORTHLESS CROTCHSTAINED BARFPUPPET.

CG: I WILL BID YOU ONE FIRST AND FINAL FUCK YOU.

CG: FUCK YOU, JOHN EGBERT.

CG: FUCK YOU AND FUCK THE JOKE BOOK YOU RODE IN ON.

CG: FUCK.

CG: FUCKING.

CG: YOU.

EB: :D

EB: see you soon!

CG: WAIT

CG: WHAT

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

#homestuck #karkat vantas #john egbert #homestuck act 5 #page 2628 #homestuck act 5 act 2

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months ago

Text

PLAYING FAVOURITES. [PART TWO]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 2628 summary. continuing on from FAVOURITISM (this can be read as a standalone, but would recommend reading part 1 first) you and your boss's work relationship deviates from professional, each of your repressed feelings beginning to get in the way. a wordless admission entails, the act confirming the liking each of you have. boss x secretary. warnings. slightly suggestive, idiots in love (kinda) disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of how I picture the reader's vibe and style. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Late mornings, you’d often find yourself in the staff room, watching over the bubbling kettle as you wait for it to finish boiling. And now, like many other points during the day, you’re leaning against the counter — hip resting against the worktop, waiting for the flick of the kettle’s switch.

You reach for the appliance and slowly pour the water into your boss's favourite fine china set, making the tea to his very specific liking. Following the steps that he had ingrained into you over the several months you’ve worked for him. You slot two custard creams onto the saucer, setting the biscuits beside the cup before heading towards his office.

You’re mindful as you walk across the office floor, eyes fixed in a heavy focus on the fragile crockery in your hands. Being ever so careful with something so dear to him. The tea sloshes slightly with each slow and calculated step, the click of your heels accompanying every delayed movement. You reach your boss’s door and give it a light couple taps, being aware how the motion may affect the stability of your hold.

“Yeah?” he calls out, voice preoccupied, like he was busy.

Entering his room quietly so as not to disturb him, you spot him at his desk, phone wedged between cheek and shoulder, hand on the mouse with his attention on the computer screen. His focus differs when he notices you in his door frame, a soft, courteous smile being sent your way.

Though the grin is short lived. A frustrated voice on the receiving end of his phone growing louder, more frustrated. The tone of the caller dissecting that small slither of calm you just gave him. Tangerine sighs, soothing over his moustache as he slumps back in his chair, humming along with the conversation as if to keep the call short with your company present.

“Mhm-hm, catch you in a bit,” he grumbles and places his phone down, irritation evident with the force. “Sorry, darl,” he apologies, turning his attention to you still in his door frame. “You can come in,” he gently reminds you with a chuckle, gesturing you inside.

“Call sounded important— didn’t want to get in the way,” you smile and shake your head. “Anyway, thought you could do with a tea break,” you look at the clock on his wall, speaking like he was an infant with regular feedings.

“You know me too well,” he nods you along, clearing a space between his papers.

He watches over you, noticing your obvious caution with something so fragile — your precious hold being careful with something he loves.

“Perhaps,” you smile to yourself, gaze focused on your footing, unaware of his looks. You reach his desk and set it in front of him, stepping aside to leave him be.

“I uhh— I don't suppose you have a few minutes,” he starts, twisting in his chair to keep you in his sight. “Computer’s playing up. Been a right nightmare,” he says, bringing the cup to his mouth to take a sip. “Top notch tea, that.”

You twist on your heels and nod with a smile, heading back to his desk. Standing at his side, your thigh presses into his arm, the contact of your touch noticeable to you both, obvious to you both, though neither one of you wants to shy away from it. You reach past him and for the mouse where his hand sits beside, brushing past him ever so slightly.

Though he doesn’t flinch or retract his hand, instead he keeps it there, letting it be an obstacle that you have no choice but to graze. Your gaze lowers to his hand, eyes diverting from his screen to look at the closeness of your hands, how they’re almost touching. His thumb fidgets subtly, as if he’s hesitant — eager to reach for your pinky finger.

His eyes, too, fall on the display of your hands in front, the difference in size filling his mind with things no boss should ever think about one of his employees. And as if he’s suddenly remembered his position of power, he regrettably slides his hand away, reaching for the tea so you should feel no such rejection for the act.

You’d admit that it stung, but that would mean admitting you had feelings for your boss, and you were far too smart to allow yourself for that to happen. So to dust yourself off and refocus, you have a look around on his computer, trying to locate the same issue he’s been having all week. Though today, it seems the issue is different to the prior ones.

You start to bend, initiating a new seated position on your knees, but he stops you, placing down his tea as he goes to stand.

“Have my seat,” he instructs, standing behind his chair as he slides it to you — offering it up.

“Am I allowed?”

“Course you are,” he dismisses your weary, polite question with a laugh. “Doing me a favour here, can’t have you sitting on the floor.”

“Imagine how bad that’ll look to the higher ups, huh?” you joke. “Letting your secretaries get on their knees while you just sit there.”

Tangerine picks up on the accidental innuendo almost instantly, a diversion of his eyes and a tinge of warmth in his cheeks making that all the more evident. It takes you a second to realise what you’ve said and your eyes widen at the connection, mouth opening slightly like you’re embarrassed.

“For helping with work,” you add hurriedly, shaking your head as you sit in the chair. “The computer, I mean.”

With your back now to him, you take a moment to collect yourself, head dropping slightly from the sheer humiliation you were feeling. You exhale quickly and turn back to look at him, sending him an apologetic look.

“I really didn’t mean that— I didn’t even realise what I was saying,” you continue with your apologies, fearing you’ve made the situation all the more uncomfortable.

Though it’s anything but. Instead he quite liked seeing you open up to him, joke and chat with him — the worry-wall of scrutiny slowly dissipating around you. And when he sees you sitting in front, eyes peering over your shoulder and up at him, he knew he was far deeper in the shit than he realised.

He clears his throat, trying to rid himself from the impure, lewd thoughts running rampant in his mind. He shakes his head singularly at you, hand hesitantly reaching for your shoulder, but instead, he backs out at the last second, finding himself pointing at the computer.

“Let’s get that sorted out, yeah?” he prompts, adjusting your focus to an actual issue. The direction like a distraction, wanting to shake the embarrassment from you without making a deal about it.

You nod and twist to look at the screen again, pushing your focus to the task assigned to you. But as you get to work, flicking through his computer, you notice the fix is not as simple as the others from this week — the complications advancing from the usual randomly —purposefully—misplaced and deleted files to something far more complex.

Your eyes narrow at the screen, and your back straightens in a slight lean forward, trying to understand it all.

“I have no idea what you’ve done,” you mutter in pure concentration, chin resting on knuckles with your other hand on the mouse. “This is such a mess,” you briefly look at him still behind you. “Like, such a mess. It’s gonna take a while.”

“I got time,” he tightens his features, stiffening his expression. Trying not to seem so joyous about an ordeal he should be irritated by. “Not a problem for you, is it?”

“Not at all.”

He picks up the biscuits from the small plate and casually offers you one, hand held out towards you. You skim his skin as you take it, thumb brushing his for a short, quick moment.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, eager to keep you comfortable in his space.

“No, I’m good thanks,” you pause and take a bite of the treat changing your mind upon further thought. “Actually, yes please,” you start, speaking through a mouthful. “My glasses? Under my desk I have two bags. In the smaller one— I think it's on the right. Anyway, in there I have a pouch and the case is tucked in one of the pockets. And then my glasses are inside.”

He nods, a subtle smile finding itself spreading on his face.

“Shall I get you the world’s nuke codes while I’m at it?” he jokes, heading for the door.

You follow his movements, watching him over the top of the computer. “Nah, I don’t need them right now, but I could do with a drink though,” you laugh, making him halt for a brief moment. “My bottle is in the other bag— a big metal thing with charms. You’ll see it right away.”

He’s quick to return and you’re sure he’s forgotten the directions, the quick pace making you doubt him. But instead, he pulls out your bags from behind his back, features forced in a plain, casual expression.

“Thought it’d be easier to bring all your things,” he offers, making his way to your side, tucking your belongings next to you. “Get you set up in here for the day while you fix that mess,” he gestures to the computer and resumes his original position behind you.

With him unable to see your face, you smile. You smile wide. The thought of him seeming to enjoy and want your company makes those butterflies flutter a little wilder inside. That pit of want slowly growing deeper. The edges of it starting to crumble inwards.

Again, with the reminder of status and power, you dismiss the thoughts and twist in the chair, leaning over to search through your bag on the floor so you could resume work.

Completely unbeknownst to you, Tangerine’s height advantage gave him exactly that — an advantage. His depraved eyes trail down your back from behind, lowering to the slither of skin between flowy blouse and trousers, the tights he bought for you all those weeks ago visible over the top of the waistband. The hosiery a secret to you and you only, a way of maintaining your flamboyance without getting in trouble for it.

He squeezes his eyes shut, gaze unable to leave the sight without a forceful action. His hands drop from the crossed position over his chest to his front, hands acting as a shield between his legs.

He wasn’t sure what exactly got him so bothered about the sight, and he found himself struggling to find the reasoning why. Perhaps it was something about the contact, how something he touched so tightly is now, too, tightly touching you. Maybe it was the position or the unintentional, suggestive eyes you’d give him throughout all hours of the day. Either way, whatever it was, he was struggling.

And through his drifting mind, he’s unaware of you now facing him, hand waving sweetly to capture his attention.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat in his fist, lending you his focus.

“You good?” you ask, utterly oblivious to the effect you play on him. “I can do this some other time if you’d like?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the motion stern like it was reaffirming his decline. “I was just thinking about lunch,” he lies, checking the time on his watch. “Getting hungry,” a partial lie — only his hunger cannot be satiated with food. “I can get something for you too?”

“I brought something with me from home, but thank you,” you notice a hint of defeated rejection in his eyes, the dismissal of his offer seeming to please you more than it should. “But maybe I can sit in here while I eat?”

“That’ll be nice,” he nods, trying his best to remain neutral. “How’s it looking?” he questions and points to the screen, changing the subject built on a lie.

“Uhm, it’s coming along I think,” you too, lie, pretending the errors were still an issue, when in fact they were not. The problem fixed and sorted a couple minutes ago. “Might be another hour at least, maybe two. Just doing some tests,” you continue with your ruse, lying to keep yourself in his company.

“That’s alright,” he hums, watching you swirl back around in his chair, getting back to work.

It was as if you were truly unaware of your power: big brains, a heart so pure and eyes that could trick him to do anything. He would find someone with those qualities intimidating, but instead he found himself finding it endearing, exciting even.

And like he’s suddenly had enough of talking himself from his wants, he decides to indulge in them, just this once. He rests his hands either side of you from above, palms flat to the desk to tower over you from behind. Inners of his biceps skimming at your shoulders.

The position close, like a confinement you much rather enjoyed. You swallow thick, struggling to even your breathing.

“Maybe I do play favourites,” he admits, his voice a whisper behind your ear. “Little bit of partiality in the workplace.”

He moves a hand from its placement on the table and places it on the back of the chair, pushing it to make you swivel to face him.

It’s close, far closer than you’ve ever been to him before — the tips of your noses almost touching.

“I know you’ve thought about this too,” he prompts, tone gentle as he practically speaks against your lips.

All you can do is nod slowly, seeming to be frozen in place with no ability to speak. Quite like you were in a haze, stumped it had finally got to this point.

“How long you been thinking about it?” he teases, itching forward to graze your lips, only to pull away — wanting to hear your answer first.

You inhale raggedly. “Since I started,” you admit, getting closer to make up for the distance he made.

“So have I.”

The hand that was on the back of your chair reaches towards you, palm grazing the base of your throat until it's sitting on the side of it, lightly holding your neck. With him regaining control, he guides you inwards, pressing his lips to yours.

At first it’s precautionary, gentle even, the kiss soft and light as if to check measures. But when you each pull away, eyes flickering over the other quickly, it’s fast to be rekindled. The intensity growing as if all of the stolen glances and forbidden thoughts and accidental touches have finally caught up to you both. Upping the antics.

A knock at the door breaks the moment far shorter than either one of you would like, the hasty pace of the tapping indicating something urgent.

You pull away and he sighs, the exhale frustrated. Tangerine stands straight and adjusts himself, making his way to the door.

“What?” he says, voice stern, one of your colleagues stood in front of his door — an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Been a problem with dispatch, sir.”

“Right,” he nods and shuts the door in the face of his employee.

Tangerine heads towards you to collect his things, picking up his briefcase and coat from its placement. Your eyes never seem to break from their lusty fix on him, an indecent, fervent fixation as they follow him around the room.

“I won’t be long,” he assures, walking towards you. He leans over slightly, thumb and forefinger cupping your chin, angling your face to meet him. “Don’t you go anywhere, okay?” he instructs, punctuating his soft command with a rough response.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[ PART THREE ]

#lmdl: his favourite #his favourite #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fluff #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader

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