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[sysig]

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2:30 PM: Star Control II - Princess

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2:30 PM: SCII - Pirates

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2:30 PM: SCII - Pirates

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2:30 PM: SCII - Pirates

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2:30 PM: SCII (&fic!)

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2:30 PM: Requestober Day 1!

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[spencerreidsconverse]

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

[chatonne-rousse]

Seventeen Reasons, Maybe More

Chat Noir has one request. It's a simple request, really, one he doesn't understand Ladybug's reluctance to grant. He just wants Multimouse to come back as part of the team once in a while. He's absolutely sure she would be an amazing hero, and he's going to tell his partner exactly why, as soon as she arrives for patrol. He's practiced this. He has a list. There's no way she can say no! Right?

Written at the request of @jennagrinsoverml.

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Three things happen in quick succession. Ladybug lands on the roof, her yo-yo retracts with its telltale zip, and Chat Noir springs to his feet.

He's waited nineteen agonizing minutes for his partner to arrive, though that's partly his fault for getting here so early on her solo patrol night. He just...he has something he needs to say, and he's ready to say it. He's been ready.

"Hey, Kitty. I thought it was just me tonight. Everything okay?" Ladybug cocks her head and looks at him with mild concern. She seems to have already assessed that he's physically well and has moved on to trying to figure out if the same is true emotionally. She really is a wonderful partner, and he loves her beyond measure. That's why he doesn't understand why he even needs the list currently burning a hole in his pocket.

He smiles, hoping to put her at ease. That'll make this easier. Hopefully. "I'm just fine, LB. But I was hoping we could talk."

"O...kay," she says, her brows furrowing further. "What is it?"

Chat takes a deep breath, lets it out through his nose, and sets his shoulders, determined. "I think we should bring back Multimouse."

Any trace of worry slips from her face in an instant. She pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes. It's her turn to take a deep breath.

He waits, impatient and a little nervous. This isn't an auspicious start.

He resolutely ignores the fact that her pose reminds him of his father, mulling over his son's perceived transgressions with annoyance just before he relegates Adrien to his room for an indeterminate prison sentence.

Yeah, he's not focusing on that. Ladybug is not his father. He chooses to defer to her because she's proven to be a brilliant strategist, but he has no intention of prostrating himself in submission to one more person. If they're supposed to be equals, he deserves the chance to plead his case, at the very least.

She opens her eyes and lets her hands fall to her sides. He doesn't see a refusal in her expression, neither is it a look of capitulation. But that's okay. He has his list.

"Chat, we've talked about this," she says wearily, shaking her head just a fraction.

"I know we have. But I still think she would be an incredible addition to the team, even if it's just temporary." Ladybug opens her mouth to speak, but Chat barrels on. "You don't know Marinette, My Lady. Not like I do. She's so smart and creative! She comes up with plans to help people all the time. She thinks quickly on her feet and--" He stops when his partner snorts.

One eyebrow arched in derision, Ladybug huffs another laugh before muttering, "If she's on her feet at all. That girl is clumsy."

His blood turns to ice. "What did you say, Ladybug?" He himself is surprised by the timbre of his voice, deep and even and just hinting at the wave of defensive anger he's actively holding back. His partner is even more surprised.

"Oh, Kitty, I'm just joking!" She waves her hands in supplication. "Marinette and I are friends. I'm just as clumsy as she is, and she knows it." Ladybug smiles and his ire dissipates as quickly as it came. "So do you, in fact."

"Of course. I could never forget the first time I met Miss Maladroit."

"Don't I know it." Ladybug rolls her eyes, folding her legs beneath her to sit cross-legged on the roof beside him. She gazes up at him, eyes shining, and pats the spot next to her.

Whether the decision to place herself in a position beneath him was deliberate or not, it doesn't escape Chat's notice. It also doesn't feel right. He lowers himself to the roof beside his partner, back to equilibrium. Sort of.

"So, Chaton," she says, bumping his shoulder playfully. "You were extolling the virtues of our mutual friend Marinette?"

His cheeks heat. "I don't know that I was doing that, per se. But I stand by what I said. She's pretty awesome. And she would make the best teammate. I know she would."

Ladybug is silent for a long moment before she sighs heavily. "Chat, I know you want to bring her back, but it's just not a good idea."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, My Lady." He unzips his left side waist pocket and produces his handwritten list with a flourish. "It's a great idea, and I can prove it."

She blinks.

He continues, undaunted, as he unfolds the paper and snaps it crisply. He chooses to ignore his partner's facepalm.

"Number One: Marinette is smart."

"You already said that." Her voice is muffled behind her hand but he can still understand her. Also, just because she's right doesn't mean he plans to respond.

He has a list to read, after all. He does skip numbers four, seven, and twelve, since he already said she was creative, helpful, and quick-thinking. Chat is so glad he made the effort to put this together so he didn't forget anything. And Plagg made fun of him for spending such a long time on it!

"...and finally, Number Seventeen: Marinette is a super fast learner, and I know she would be a pro at this in no time."

In his mind, he can hear Plagg's drawl from over his shoulder as he completed the list last night.

"Hey, kid, you forgot Number Eighteen: Marinette looks really good in grey and pink."

"Come on, Plagg," he sighs in exasperation. "You know it's not like that."

"So you don't think she looks cute as Multimouse?"

A pause. "I don't think I've ever said either way whether I did or didn't."

"You're barely making sense, kid. Also, you're blushing."

He scowls. "Don't you have some Camembert to stink up my bedroom with?"

Plagg produces a piece of cheese from seemingly nowhere. Adrien wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"I can have my cheese and watch your disaster unfold at the same time, don't worry."

Ignoring his kwami, he carefully folds the paper and tucks it in his desk drawer. He'll have to remember to put it in his pocket after he transforms tomorrow. He smiles, thinking about the possibility of working with Multimouse again if he's able to convince Ladybug. Marinette is such a great friend, and this would be the perfect chance to spend more time with her...even if she won't know exactly who she's hanging out with.

"Oh, kid," Plagg laughs, snapping Adrien from his reverie. "You're a mess. I love it."

Adrien rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Plagg is a pain in the butt, but life would be so boring without him. "Love you, too, buddy."

Chat looks from the folded paper in his lap to his partner, awaiting her response. Her expression is unreadable but she seems to be trying to read him very, very carefully.

"Chat Noir," she says at last, "are you in love with Marinette?"

"What?" he sputters. "How did you get that from anything I said?" What was wrong with everyone? If he had a nickel for every time... Chat shakes his head. "No, LB, I'm not in love with her. Marinette is a very good friend."

She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, she's got a couple of those."

Chat smiles warmly, happy at the thought that even Ladybug knows about their friendship. It's so important to him, whether hero or civilian, on her terrace or in class.

"You know you’re the only lady for me, Bugaboo, but it’s funny," he says with a wry laugh, "she actually reminds me a lot of you. One time I even--" He stops himself just in time. Ladybug doesn't need to know that tidbit from the Heroes Day picnic. He shrugs, still grinning. “The pigtails and blue eyes don’t help, I guess.”

Her eyes search his again for several long, almost uncomfortable moments. He hopes she finds what she's looking for. He couldn't be more sincere about this.

Finally, she sighs and asks, “I know she’s your friend, Minou, but have you considered her safety?”

Oh, he has that one covered. "Did you miss Number Three: Marinette is brave? She's stood up to bullies and authority figures and...and even really strict parents,” he says, ticking each example off on his fingers. “Not everyone can say that."

Ladybug stares at him for a moment. “How do you even know all those things, Chat?” She facepalms again and shakes her head. “Wait, no, don’t tell me.” She sighs again. “This is...a lot.”

To be quite honest, he doesn’t know why he wants this so badly. He cherishes the moments of fun with his partner outside the heat of battle (though even akumas can be a sort of thrilling fun of their own) and would happily share the role with just her, the red and black yin to his black and green yang.

But Adrien hasn’t been able to shake the memory of his friend’s bright smile and brighter spirit, her bravery in the face of unknown adversity, the way she executed that brilliant plan with Ladybug so perfectly that day, with no previous training whatsoever. Sweet Marinette, kind and just and selfless, was meant to be a hero. He knows it. And it isn’t fair that Ladybug is refusing to give her another chance just because of a misunderstanding.

He knows that if the roles were reversed, Marinette would fight for him. She’s amazing like that. This is the least he can do.

“Bug?” Chat asks quietly. He watches Ladybug’s hand slide down her face before her eyes meet his. “I know you’re the Guardian and not me, and I respect that. I really do. But please, My Lady, could you trust me, just this once, to choose a hero? Please?”

Her face falls, stricken, and his heart squeezes in his chest. He hadn’t meant to upset her. His mind is suddenly awhirl with how he can do damage control on the situation.

But she speaks before he can. “Oh, Kitty,” she breathes. “I do trust you, I promise. I know it must not seem like it sometimes, and I’m sorry.” She huffs a breath and looks down at her spotted hand where it now rests on his steel toes. “Being the Guardian is really difficult. These are big decisions, and…” She trails off, then looks up at him again.

Once more, her eyes search his. Once more, he wonders why she’s so reticent about what seems like a great suggestion for a hero.

He doesn’t understand why he’s had to fight so hard for this, when he knows that Marinette is a friend of Ladybug’s, too. None of it makes sense.

But as usual, he’ll defer to his partner. He’s said his piece on the matter.

“Okay,” she says at last, with yet another sigh.

A giddy glee rises in his chest and sings through his nerves as his face lights with a grin wide enough to make his cheeks ache.

“Thank you, Bugaboo!” She winces at his volume, so he tones it down. He can’t tone down his excitement, though. “This is going to be amazing! I can’t wait to tell her!”

“Calm down, you crazy cat,” she admonishes, though she’s fighting a smile. “I need some time to think about how we can do this, and we’ll have to have rules. Don’t look at me like that, Chaton, you know it’s true!”

He waves a gloved hand. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be more than fine. You’ll see, My Lady! You won’t regret this!”

For just a moment her smile looks more like a grimace, but when he blinks, that strange look is gone.

He stands, reaching out a hand to help his partner up as well. As she brushes herself off and reaches for her yo-yo, she watches him tuck the list back into his pocket.

“I’m still annoyed that your suit has pockets and mine doesn’t.”

“Isn’t your yo-yo equipped with infinite storage?”

“Pssh. That’s beside the point.”

After a beat of silence, their shared laughter echoes across the rooftops.

Ladybug unhooks her yo-yo and prepares to zip off for her slightly-delayed patrol. “Good night, Kitty,” she says warmly. “Marinette is lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Good night, Bug. And...thank you.”

She nods once, and then she’s gone.

Chat Noir sits down again, his feet swinging idly from the edge of the roof. He could - and should - go home, but the thought of his lonely bedroom is less than appealing. He’d love to stop by a certain pink, flower-filled terrace on the way back, though he doesn’t think he could keep this news a secret, and Ladybug clearly needed time to plan. He isn’t sure why it requires a plan, but, well, he’s not the Guardian. There’s probably a lot more to it than he’ll ever know.

He thinks of his dear friend and how excited she’ll be to find out she has a second chance to be a hero. He thinks of the fun they’ll have on a cat-and-mouse chase (he laughs out loud at his own joke) across rooftops on patrol, the pastries she’s sure to bring for them to share, the warmth of spending time close to someone he cares about so much.

He can’t wait to tell Plagg the list actually worked!

When he stands up a few minutes later, his heart is light. He can face returning to his lonely house knowing that he’ll see his friends tomorrow, including a soon-to-be part-time superhero. And best of all, by trusting his choice, Ladybug trusted him.

It’s late and he should probably be quieter, but as Chat Noir vaults from the rooftop toward home, it’s with a loud whoop of pure joy.

[clonewarslover55]

You say you like Boba?? Any chance for some Boba Fett SFW/NSFW HCs for a relationship with him??

Yes!!!! I love Boba!!!! I made this super long because I love Boba Fett too much lol. I also based this mostly off of legends Boba, because legends Boba is the best lol.

Note: Boba Fett is a true Mandalorian, just like his father Jango Fett. 

Boba Fett relationship headcanons SFW and NSFW

SFW 

Boba Fett is the galaxy’s most famous bounty hunter, so he is a very busy man 

He lives on Slave I so if you ever want to see him often you’d have to move in with him 

If you don’t join him on his ship then you’ll see him whenever he gets a chance to stop by 

He’ll stop by at like your job or something, making sure to cause a scene because he’s dramatic 

If you stay with him on Slave I you quickly learn that he owns like three t-shirts 

Boba has no outfits at all, when he’s not in his armor he’s in a t-shirt and cargo pants

He only owns one pair of boots that are older than he is 

If you even think of buying him clothes he won’t wear them 

Boba is extremely stubborn, and you learn that early on 

For example, Slave I is old as shit and is falling apart slowly. He fixes the ship by himself, he will not pay to get it fixed

Fixing Slave I while shirtless just to show off is Boba’s favorite pastime

He’s a big show off and will not admit it 

Boba has a lot of money from his job, but he never really spends it. 

He is also a very blunt man, he speaks his mind openly and doesn’t take any shit

This makes him sassy as hell sometimes

He plans ahead constantly, he always has a plan for everything 

Boba even plans out what is going to happen with you both in the future

He just believes you’ll get tired of him and leave one day, which secretly worries him 

He’s use to being lonely and miserable, so he never really tries to stop you if you ever want to leave 

Being a blunt man, he isn’t very romantic.

He isn’t big into giving or receiving gifts. Sometimes he’ll bring you back little trinkets from his job 

“This reminded me of you.” He mumbles out as he throws a pretty necklace that he stole at you 

 Speaking of mumbling?? Boba doesn’t like to raise his voice and he mumbles often 

Boba doesn’t talk that much. Once you get to know him better you’ll learn that his body language is very readable. 

Boba is terrible at showing any emotion besides anger and irritation, so you’ll have to work hard to get him to laugh 

He is a very angry man, you can see it in his dark irises

Boba doesn’t like to talk about his emotions, instead he bottles them up 

He hardly talks about his father, but if you ask he’d love to tell you stories 

He obviously misses his father, and thinking of his death angers him greatly

Being such a detached man means that you’ll have to work hard for your relationship to work out 

Boba is a workaholic, so expect him to always be working 

Slave I often as has bounties in the cargo hold, just ignore them and you’ll be fine 

Sleep? Boba has never heard of her. He hardly ever sleeps, and when he does he doesn’t sleep well

He has nightmares often, mostly about losing his father and his hard life as a teen 

Please cuddle this broken boy when he has nightmares 

You swear you’ve never seen this man eat anything but protein sticks/ration sticks 

They taste like paper but carry all the proper nutrients so he doesn’t care

If you bring him sweets though he’ll act like he won’t eat them. Then eat them all in the middle of the night

He is a very very attractive man, but he doesn’t see it 

All he sees in the mirror is his father, he hates his reflection

The clones? Boba doesn’t like them either. He doesn’t see them as brothers 

Especially the clones trained by his father and the Cuy’val Dar

Boba Fett is a very miserable man, but you make him happier 

Does he show it? Not really.

Boba is a hardass and doesn’t have the time to give any fucks 

He does not care about anyone's opinion, sometimes he cares about yours though

Boba doesn’t know how to really show his love for you, so he shows it by being super protective 

Possessive as hell. Boba get’s jealous super easily but won’t show it in any way but anger 

He will kill a person that looks at you wrong. You’ve seen him kill a man in a bar with his bare hands over you before

He’s crazy but it’s pretty hot

He sometimes does trophy hunts and will bring you back a fur blanket or something. He thinks it’s sweet 

Those braids on his shoulders? Wookie scalps. He’ll happily tell you about it 

Boba had a wife and daughter when he around eighteen(18) but he had to leave them because his dangerous job made them targets of other bounty hunters 

He doesn’t like to talk about them. At all. He’ll tell you he fucked up badly with them and that’s it

If you ever get pregnant with his child expect him to freak out badly 

His dangerous job will make you a target as well, so be prepared for Boba to have a tracking device on you that you don’t know about 

He has a reason to be so protective of you, he has many enemies 

Boba gets injured a lot and knows how to fix himself up. It’s terrifying how he doesn’t really show pain

He’s obviously had a very difficult life, and it makes you sad. 

Once he escapes from the Sarlacc and heals he is covered in acid burn scars, and one of his legs is pretty fucked up. 

The leg will give him problems throughout his life, and that’s all he really complains about 

You’ll have to say “I love you” first. Boba will either be like, “Ha ha cool.” Then disappear for a month or he’ll be like, “I think I love you too.” Then disappear for a month 

Boba knows that everyone he has ever loved has either died or ended up in danger 

So falling in love with you scares him pretty bad. You’ll have to talk some sense into him 

Once he calms down and learns that feelings are a good thing he’ll be a little nicer to you 

He’ll still be an asshole but he’s an asshole that loves you 

Boba Fett would die for you, that’s how he shows his love 

He isn’t the perfect boyfriend but he tries 

NSFW

Your relationship starts out as only sexual btw

Because Boba is scared of falling in love with you 

Boba has a lot of experience and it shows 

He’ll find out what makes you tick and he won’t ever forget 

His self control is terrifying, so you’ll have to work hard to make him snap 

Since his self control is so good he draws out orgasm after orgasm from you 

Like I said before, Boba does not give a fuck. So he’ll fuck you anytime, anywhere 

Boba has fucked you in front of his bounties before 

He is also extremely possessive, so he covers you in marks to prove that only he can fuck you 

When his jealousy gets the best of him he basically turns into an animal and fucks away his frustrations

He absolutely loves having sex in his armor while you’re completly naked 

Boba loves some good ol’ rough sex, but sometimes he’ll be gentle and slow 

Sometimes he’ll fuck you painfully slow, mainly as a punishment 

He loves punishing you, sometimes he’ll leave your ass bruised for days 

Orgasm denial is his favorite punishment, that or overstimulation 

Boba is surprisingly kinky and will openly tell you about his kinks

He does have a breeding kink, but he tries to control it. He doesn’t want another kid 

Boba is on male birth control but he is still cautious 

He’ll really do anything, so tell him your darkest desires and he may make them come true 

He isn’t really into being submissive but there are some rare nights 

Pegging? Absolutely. He’ll whine and beg like a whore 

After you peg him once he’ll ask you to do it a lot more often 

He’s pretty big into anal in general, so prepare for that 

Boba is into choking as well, if you try to choke him then it’s game on 

Sometimes he can be pretty rough, but he makes up for it in aftercare 

He’s a sweetheart if you two have time for aftercare 

He’ll clean both of you up with a warm rag then cuddle you, while whispering sweet nothings into your ear

Boba’s weakness is his neck, if you kiss him there he melts 

Please mark this dirty man up, he loves it 

He loves oral sex! Giving or receiving! 

His mouth is magical and he knows it 

Boba is a quiet man so he isn’t really into dirty talk, but he will mumble out some hot words here and there

His voice is gruff as hell, so the few words he does say makes you melt 

He’s a little shit, so he teases the fuck out of you 24/7

Please fall asleep on his chest after sex and just cuddle him, he’ll sleep like a baby 

[steveng-rogers]

Hostie and Wine PRIEST AU(happygowriting kinktober day 1=Food Kink )

Pairings: Stucky(StevexBucky), Dandy(DaytonxAndy), slight Ducky(DaytonxBucky) Dark-ish!Steve and Andy. College boys Bucky and Dayton. 

Rating: M+ (to be clear that is Mature, meaning if you’re under the age of 18 DO NOT READ or INTERACT)

Word Count:  4,143 

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ ONLY. M/M. Heavy blasphemy kink. Food kink. Restraints, gagging(not too heavy). Dirty talk, mild degrading. Alcohol. Demonic chants(not too weird, translation will be at the end of the fic) the real warning is the bad Latin. Blowjobs, hand jobs, anal sex, male giving and receiving. Praise kink. (If there are any thats not listed and you think I should list, let me know)

Summary: Harmless fun for Bucky and Dayton turns into a fantasy filled night with the help of father Steve and Father Andy. 

A/N:  I used CPDV(Catholic Public Domain Version) translation of the Bible because it’s easier to understand. I don’t know any Latin, so what you find here is google translated. Don’t repost this anywhere unless you have asked me for permission. I worked very hard on this :) thankyou for curtisbb for proof reading this and happygowriting for providing this awesome prompts. 

    Morning Sunday mass, early, boring, and so hard to pay attention to. It’s 

their day off and if it were any other colleges, they would be in bed and do

 whatever they desired. But being in a Catholic private college means they live

 under a strict rule of Catholicism and their many masses and some might say

 “rituals”. 

    Dayton White and Bucky Barnes are now sitting on the third row from the 

altar. Not stiff enough to sit on the very first row and not rebellious enough to

 sit in the back row like those hooligans. Plus they have enough heads to keep

 them from getting in trouble from talking to each other and from here they 

have enough distance between those heads to steal glances at their new

 priests. That is exactly their topic of whispers for almost three weeks now. 

    They look at each other, giving each other the “eyes” when the Bishop is 

trying to use slang or use any remarks to be funny. 

    “In our reading today we learned that Jesus was brought out by the spirit to

 be tempted by Satan. Now as you all know Jesus was or rather still is the OP

 (Over Powered)  man and God. He refused to be tempted you see..”

    Dayton rolled his eyes, really OP? “What is this? A video game convention?”

 Bucky laughs quietly at Dayton’s comment, making sure to bow his head so it’ll

 look like he’s coughing or something. Dayton smirks and pat Bucky’s back to

 make it more convincing to others that are watching. The angels and the

 heavens are not the only ones who've been watching the two, there are two

 pairs of glistening blues who already set their eyes on them. They know their 

ticks and their subtle coded movements. 

    Dayton felt the burns of their stare and because he is Dayton White he

 dares to look at the two priests. Father Andrew Barber holds up a finger to his

 lips, ever so subtle and quick to tell him to “hush” and Father Steve Rogers on

 the other side of him, just raised his eyebrows at the younger men. Dayton

 nudges Bucky’s elbow and points with his chin to them. He looks up, a little too

 quickly and finds Father Steve already looking at him. They look away and

 back to the Bishop. Both of the young men feel the cold shiver running down 

their spines, making them clutch the matte black blazer of their school’s 

uniform tighter around their body. Something is amidst. Something dark.  

    “And just like Jesus said in Matthew 4 verse 7, you can say to Satan that

 they cannot tempt you for you are a child of God and your faith will save you.” 

    When the time of the communion came, their favorite part. They wait for

 their turn and go in line to receive their hostie and wine. The body and the

 blood of Jesus. 

    Father Andrew holds out the white, round hostie and Dayton submissively

 opens his mouth to receive it. And father Andrew places the hostie in Dayton’s

 mouth and gives a light pressure on his thumb as it reaches the top of

 Dayton’s tongue. Bucky on the other hand is on his way to receive the wine

 from none other than Father Steve. Father Steve extends the gold chalice to

 Bucky and Bucky couldn’t help but to lick his lips. The wine is not the one he

 had in mind to satiate his thirst and father Steve saw that in his eyes. So he

 tips the chalice to Bucky’s mouth, his index finger brushes lightly against

 Bucky’s lips as it was so strategically placed on the outline of the chalice by

 father Steve. 

    No one noticed when these exchanges happened, for they are subtle and

 very easy to miss. But for the four of them, it leaves them breathless and

 wanting more, so much more. 

    Long after the mass was done and dinner was served, Bucky and Dayton

 decided to lounge around their common room. Dayton is sitting on the sofa,

 close to the window, catching up on some assigned reading and Bucky is

 sitting close to the fireplace finishing up his essay. After hours, both boys grew

 bored. Their minds start to idle and they can’t seem to concentrate on their

 task. And the saying goes, “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.” Usually 

Dayton is the one who would come up with things to do, but today Bucky came

 up with something. Rather devilish. 

    “Dayton.” Bucky closes his laptop and sits towards his bestfriend, a playful 

grin on his face.

    “What is it?” Dayton looks up from his book and raises his eyebrows at him,

 clearly interested. 

    “You know when the priests and church staff go to sleep right?”

    “Yeah, around 9 oclock. Why?”

    “What do you say we steal some hostie and raid the wine cellar?” Bucky

 suggested and Dayton just shakes his head, impressed at how reckless Bucky

 is being right now. 

    “No and you know why.”

    Bucky stood and went over to Dayton. “They���re not yet blessed, so we'd only

 be guilty of stealing. Plus the confession room opens tomorrow and you know 

who is going to be there.” Dayton thought about being alone in the room with 

father Andrew and he’s sold. 

   “Okay fine, you got me. If we get caught, you’re taking the blame.”

    “Alright so you’re calling cauliflower?” Bucky said their code word and

 Dayton gave him a nod. The plan is locked and loaded. 

     Around nine oclock, the two best friends waited until the light on their hal

l was dimmed. Then Bucky leads them to a room where the unblessed hostie

 are made. Dayton waited outside while Bucky went in to snatch some bags of 

hostie, sure they tasted like nothing but when you’re tempted the devil will help

 you indulge. 

    Then out of the corner of his eyes, Dayton saw two figures walking towards

 where he is at. It was so dark and Dayton can only see dark shadows and by

 God, if these are ghosts he’s gonna make a run for it. Then as they walk

 closer, Dayton can make up the outline of a face and oh. Oh. He knows that 

beard, those broad shoulders, and the cross necklaces. It’s the twin priests.

 They were too busy arguing quietly until father Andrew saw him and father 

Steve followed his gaze. 

    “Mister White? What are you doing out so late?” Father Andrew raises his

 eyebrows in question and Dayton can feel his palms getting clammy. 

    “And where is mister Barnes? You two are usually together, are you not?” 

Father Steve asked as he looked around for Bucky. Dayton smiles nervously 

and reminds himself to be calm.

    “Oh well, Barnes and I are looking for uh..” He trails off as he hears Bucky’s 

footsteps getting closer to the door. “Cauliflower!” Dayton exclaimed, loud 

enough for Bucky to hear and the footsteps stopped abruptly. 

    “Cauliflower?” Father Steve and Father Andrew look at each other and back

 at Dayton. 

    “For what?” Dayton cursed in his heart, damn it. “For a project that we’re 

working on.”

    “Well, I better not find you in the confession booth tomorrow confessing

 about this lie. Or they will be severe punishments.” Father Andrew 

emphasized on the word punishment and that sends chills throughout Dayton’s

 body. 

    “Yes, father.” With that the two priests left him there and once they’re out of 

sight, Dayton exhales and knocks on the door for Bucky to come out. “Oh my

 god, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bucky laughs with the bag of hostie in

 his hands. “Shut up, we almost got caught.” Bucky grins and throws one of the

 bags at Dayton. “But we didn't, so come on. One more stop.” 

    Dayton went inside the wine cellar this time and Bucky was outside, to look

 out for them. Once they got the goods, they head back to their dorm room 

completely unaware that they’ve been followed. 

    The clock strikes midnight and the two boys are enjoying their wine and 

hostie in their dorm room. They’ve spiked the wine with vodka, a gift from their

 Russian friend Pietro. They’re a giggling mess, the slight buzz was a nice 

feeling, and the tasteless hostie somehow is sweeter in their mouths. 

    At exactly 12:12 am, the door opened and the boys were met with large 

figures standing on the door. “You didn’t lock the fucking door Barnes.” Dayton

 glares at Bucky, who is now looking up at father Steve. “I’m sorry..” 

    “What do we have here?” Father Steve crouches down and grabs the 

opened bag of hostie from Bucky’s hand. 

    “This doesn’t look like a cauliflower, does it?” Father Andrew asked as he 

inhaled the tip of the wine bottle. 

    Bucky and Dayton weren't sure on what to do other than to look up to the 

two men. “But you knew that Dayton and Bucky?” Father Andrew looked into 

their eyes. Both boys look down, shame burns the words out of their mouths. 

    “Come on, you two are smart right? Use your words.” Father Steve edge on.

 But they can’t even whisper a word out. “Get up both of you.” Dayton can feel

 his legs wobbles as he slowly stood. Bucky was not much better because he’s

 still on the ground. 

    “Bucky.” Father Steve warns and Bucky immediately stands. “We can expel 

the both of you for this. Do you want that?” Father Steve said, tilting Bucky’s

 chin up to look at him. Both boys shake their heads. “Didn’t I say use your 

words?” He warned them, annoyance laced his tone. “N-no father.” Bucky 

managed to stammer out. 

    “Please we’ll do anything to not get expelled.” Dayton finally spoke. “Hm 

anything?” Father Andrew hums as he locks the door behind him. “Yes, father 

Andrew anything.” He stalks over and stands in front of Dayton. “Call me 

Andy.” Dayton swallows the lump on his throat and nods. The older men

 exchange a knowing look to each other and when they turn their heads to the 

boys, the pupils in their eyes grow dark. The younger boys gasp, prickles of

 arousal dance down their bodies as the men extend their hands out to them. 

    Steve snakes his arm around Bucky’s waist and Bucky voluntarily steps 

closer to him, pressing their bodies together. Andy runs his index finger down

 Dayton’s jawline slowly, eyes following Dayton’s lips. 

    “Kiss me.” They whisper to the boys with their lips so temptingly close to 

them. 

    Bucky and Dayton close their eyes and kiss them. Dayton almost whimpers 

when Andy returns his kiss, so demanding his kiss was. He kissed Dayton so 

deeply, almost as if he wanted a taste of the wine he’d been drinking. 

    Bucky inhales deeply when Steve kisses him back, so soft as if he is to savor

 Bucky’s lips with his. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulder, one hand 

running through his golden locks and he tugs as Steve bites down on his lips. 

That earned Steve a hopeless moan from Bucky. 

    Andy backs Dayton to his bed. His lips find its ways to Dayton’s neck as he 

pushes him down to his bed. “Been wanting to taste you. Ever since you lick 

my finger on our first communion. You know exactly what you’re doing to me.” 

Andy whispers with his thumb brushing against Dayton’s lower lips and he bites

 down on his thumb teasingly. “ ‘course I do father, had to lay my claim on you.”

 Andy chuckles, dark and deep as he tugs Dayton’s white button down off. 

    Steve has Bucky’s legs wrapped around his waist as they kiss hungrily.

 When Bucky lays down on the bed and looks up, Steve’s black button down

 was already half opened thanks to Bucky’s wandering hands. Steve ripped his

 shirt open and maybe it’s the alcohol, but Bucky lost it as he looked up, seeing 

Steve’s bare chest and the little sun tattoo just underneath his left collar bone.

 He groans and moans out, “Daddy.” Steve smirks down at him. “Oh? You’re 

daddy’s boy huh?” Bucky’s face flushed red, pupils blown darker than the new

 moon. “Hm.” And he nods. Steve huffs, hand palming Bucky’s crotch “Use your

 words Bucky.” He gasps out, “Yes! I’m daddy’s boy.” 

    Andy pulls down Dayton’s pants along with his red briefs, then he starts to 

stroke his length drawing sweet little noises from him. “You’re already

 throbbing baby. What happens if I put my mouth on you hm? Are you gonna 

cum right away like a horny teenager?” Dayton groans in protest. Sure he had 

been deprived of this kind of fun, but that doesn’t mean he and Bucky hadn’t 

fooled around or that he was an inexperienced virgin. “Why don’t you find out

 mister Barber? Put your mouth around me and I’ll prove to you how 

‘inexperience’ I am?” Dayton smirks, he can see a flash of anger on Andy’s

 dark eyes. “You think you’re in charge here? Oh I don’t think so.  I am and 

you’ll do as I say.” Andy pulls his belt off his waist and runs the metallic tip on 

Dayton’s bare chest, making him tremble. “I told you there is going to be a 

severe punishment if I caught you and here we are.” 

    Bucky was bare as the day he was born, a quivering, and a flushed little 

thing Steve thought. “Play with yourself sweetheart, imagine it was me just like 

you’ve been confessing in the booth.” Bucky bites down on his bottom lips,

 trying to contain his moans as he slides his hand up and down his own cock. 

Steve grabs the bottle of wine and takes a huge swig out of it, palming himself 

as he watches Bucky play with himself. “Don’t bother being quiet, come on let

 daddy hear how good you sound .” Bucky’s toes curl as he moans out Steve’s

 name. “O-ohhh S..S-Steve, daddy please touch me, touch me.” Steve takes 

another swig of the wine, then he leans down to kiss Bucky, filling his mouth 

with the red liquid. “Good boy, keep going. Keep touching that pretty thing. 

Make daddy proud.” Bucky is a sucker for praises and Steve amplified that, 

with his husky and soft voice and Steve, he goddamn knows it. 

    Dayton’s hand is now all tied up to the upper railing on his bed, his fingers 

bare down on his palm, making his knuckles white as Andy toys around with 

his nipples. “Don’t you make a fucking sound. Or I’ll edge you and make you

 watch your best friend get fucked like you wanted while you’re here,

 pathetically begging for me to make you cum.” Andy sits up and takes his 

black button down off him, showing off the little moon tattoo under his left collar

 bone and that makes Dayton’s mouth water at the thought of having his mouth

 all over that tattoo. “Maybe I like to be edge Andy, won’t be the first time I 

watched my best friend get his way.” Now that was a mistake and Dayton was 

too late to pull back. Andy fished out his white, clergy collar, and enfold it

 around Dayton’s jaw, muffling his mouth. The priest breaks down the hostie 

into smaller pieces, placing it down Dayton’s chest to his happy trail where the

 skin glistens with Dayton’s precum. “I want you to remember that verse from

 Luke 22nd, about the last supper. Recite it, the last of verse 19.” Andy pulls 

down the collar just a little so Dayton could talk. The younger man breathes 

heavily as he tries to remember it. “This is my body, which is given for y-you. 

Do this as a commemoration of me ohh...” Andy growls as he licks and eats

 the white pieces of hostie along Dayton’s body. “Good, good boy.” He coos

 softly, putting the collar back on to Dayton’s mouth. 

    Bucky almost came under Steve’s watch and of course, Steve being the 

sadist that he is pulls his hand away. Bucky whined, closing his legs to hide his

 painfully hard on from Steve. “No sweetheart, keep it wide open. I want you to

 recite the memory verse I have given you. Come on I’ll help you, Luke 22nd,

 the last of verse 20.” Bucky’s wine stained lips quiver as he struggles to

 ground himself, Steve is all but smiles and proud because he knows Bucky

 could do it. “This.. uhm chalice is the new covenant in my blood, which will be

 shed f..f-for you.” Steve opens up Bucky’s jaw and pour the remaining of the

 wine into his mouth. “Drink sweet boy and don’t waste a single drop.” Steve

 commands him and Bucky gulps it down like he was told to. Before Bucky 

could finish, Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s neck and squeezes it, 

enough to make him gasp and then he kissed him like a starved man. His 

other hand, strokes Bucky’s cock making the younger man moan into their 

kiss. “Bucky, sweetheart. Cum on my hand. You deserve it, for being so fucking

 good to me.” He whispers as he licks the droplets of the red liquor along 

Bucky’s lips and like the command of God, Bucky moans out and came all over

 the priest’s hand. “Ah! Steve-oh god, da-daddy..ah.” Bucky’s whole body 

trembles as Steve strokes his cock some more. 

    Andy and Steve are prepared to have this moment with them, have been 

planning it for months, and it’s finally here. They came willingly, well one of 

them certainly did. They glances at each other as they grab the small pack of 

lube that they’ve brought with them. Once they’ve stripped themselves naked 

and on their knees above their chosen ones, the twins starts to chant 

something like prayers under their ragged breaths. 

            “Satanas Domino, per gratiam tuam

            Concede mihi precor te 

            Ut ad virtutis in 

            Mente consipere ac reddere 

            Quam ad facere cupio.” 

    Steve teases the rim of Bucky’s hole and he shudders, still sensitive from 

coming too hard. Steve hush him quietly as he slides his lube coated fingers 

into him. Stretching him open and getting him ready for him. “Barely put up a 

fight with me. Was I always the subject in your wet dreams Bucky? Those 

things you’ve confessed to me in that dark booth, all me huh?” Bucky thought 

he was being subtle, but the shame of getting caught shot arousal to his dick

 and he tightened around Steve’s digits. “Answer me.” Steve demands and

 Bucky whimpers out, “Yes, yes. ‘S all you Steve.” 

    Dayton is painfully hard, he wanted to protest, but his mouth is stuffed and

 not in the way that he likes. Andy chuckles darkly at his attempts and without

 warning he drips the cold liquid of the lube on Dayton’s red rim and that earns

 him a choked out moan from Dayton. “You’ve finally found your match? 

Somehow you know only I can make you like this, you came with me with your

 inappropriate comments thinking that I might blush and came again wishing

 that I do them to you.” Andy slides his digits in and made a scissoring motion 

inside him, Dayton bites down on the collar trying his hardest to be quiet. Andy

 adds to the torture as he licks and sucks on the top of Dayton’s cock. 

“Mmmph-Andy!..” 

    They toy and play around with the two for what feels like hours. They want 

them savored and teased like Satan did to Eve in the garden of Eden. 

    Steve strokes himself and with Bucky all ready for him, he slid inside him 

slowly. Bucky immediately tightened around him, feeling every veins on Steve’s

 cock. “F-fuck Steve.” He moans desperately, cock already twitching and 

wanting to cum again. “By God Bucky, don’t you cum before I tell you to.” Steve

 sets a slow pace until he’s all sheathed inside him. “Fuck. Oh yes, all hot and 

tight for me. All for me huh Bucky? Goin to fuck the sweet sin into you.” Bucky 

wraps his legs around Steve, hands on his back with his fingers clawing at the 

older man’s back. Steve’s words, his cock, and the way his hand squeezes his 

legs made Bucky desperate to let go, but he can’t it all feels so good and all he

 wanted is for Steve to have him like this for the rest of his days. “Daddy oh 

god, ngh- please fuck me, harder Oh!” Steve grabs the headboard and starts

 to fuck him slow and hard, making Bucky feel every inch of him. 

    Andy has Dayton’s legs on his shoulders as he keeps teasing him, sweeping

 the tip of his cock and slowly putting it inside Dayton but not quite fucking him. 

Dayton let out a frustrated, pushing his hips down to seek more of Andy. 

“Darling you’ve got to earn it, you know that don’t you?” Tears slipped down 

Dayton’s flush cheeks, he’s so unbelievably hard and he hasn’t cum in the last 

hour. He’s aching and desperate for Andy to just fuck the daylight out of him. 

Andy took the collar off Dayton’s mouth, wanting to listen to Dayton’s pleas 

more clearly. “Andy please, you’ve tortured me enough, ah-I can’t please.” 

Andy smiles devilishly, kissing Dayton’s wet cheeks. “Can’t what hm? Take it 

anymore?” Dayton nods, his walls finally crumbling down under Andy’s touch.

 “I love hearing you beg. That honeyed voice of yours darling.” Andy gave 

Dayton what he'd been pleading for and Dayton swore he saw the halo on top 

of Andy’s head as he felt the delicious stretch on his hole. Dayton’s hole 

swallows Andy’s dick almost all the way in and Dayton is already a whimpering 

mess under the priest. Andy pushed in some more till he bottoms out, making 

Dayton cry out in pleasure, “Jesus-ah! Andy, A-ah Andy.” The said man starts 

one unrelenting pace as he pressed Dayton’s legs up to his chest to fuck him 

deeper. “Sweet heavens, you felt better than I’d imagine. Look the way you

 take my cock. Like a good fucking whore.” 

    Steve fucked Bucky until he’s on his third orgasm, Bucky is all but a writhing,

 sweet thing under him and Steve hasn’t even come once, but he’s so 

goddamn close. Steve’s hand closed around the metal railing of the headboard

 as he moves his hips hard against him. “Steve, Steve oh daddy. Fuck, fuck. ‘S 

too much.” Bucky whined, high pitched and breathy and that edged Steve on

 even more. “Almost sweetheart, daddy’s gonna cum in you yeah? Fill up that 

sweet ass of yours and make you cum again.” Bucky clenches around Steve, 

making Steve bend the metal in his hand. He rams his hips harshly as he 

finally spills his seed inside Bucky and Bucky moans lewdly as his own cock 

twitch and he came for the fourth time. “Ouhh daddy. Steve hahh.” Steve holds

 Bucky close as he rides his high, his hand loosened around the metal and he

 moans deeply in Bucky’s ear. 

    Andy has Dayton on all fours, his reddened ass in the air and his face all 

flushed against the pillow. Andy spanks Dayton’s ass as he rails him from

 behind, making Dayton whined all high pitched into the pillow that he’s 

clutching. “Fucking Christ Dayton, darling look at you. All nice and fucked out.

 Want me to cum inside you hm? Fill you nice till all you can feel is me?” Andy 

whispered in Dayton’s ear with his deep voice that made Dayton shiver. “Yes,

 yes. Give it to me. Fill me up, fill me up -ah!” Andy rams that sweet spot of 

Dayton’s as his hand snakes down to pump his cock. “Cum Dayton, you’ve 

earned it. Be a sweet boy for me darling, make me fucking proud.” Dayton’s 

mouth falls open, but not a whisper of word comes; instead his ass clenches 

around Andy’s cock as his cock shoots out hot, white cum on the sheet 

beneath him. “Yes, there you go sweet boy. You’re my sweet boy, keep coming

 baby.” Andy gave a couple of hard thrusts till he came inside Dayton, his head 

falling upward like Cain did when he worshipped God. Andy growled deep and

hoarse as he filled Dayton up, Dayton hums sweetly as Andy leans down and 

kisses down his back. 

    The twin cleans their partners up with warm towels, making sure they’re 

going to be comfortable come morning. The clock strikes 3 am and the two 

priests quietly slip out of the dorm room. Their eyes gave out glints of red, a

 devilish smirk painted across their lips as they walked side by side. “Who 

would’ve thought?” Steve chuckles. “You know what he said,  fruits taste better 

when they’re forbidden.” Who would’ve thought that demons only prey on 

beautiful women? They prey on beautiful men too.

Translation of the Latin piece: Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me, I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire to do. 

[jeranasblog]

Starker Kink Advent Calendar - Day 12

Summary: Peter marries Tony because he wants to keep working. Tony marries Peter because he doesn’t want the boy’s brilliance to go to waste. Neither one of them expects an overwhelming attraction to unfold between them. Feelings, insecurities, and doubts tangle together until they find themselves inextricably linked. And what happens when a surprise turns everything upside down?

24 days, 24 chapters, 24 kinks

Pairing:  Peter Parker/Tony Stark

Rating: E

Notes:  Hey guys. I’ve decided to write a “Starker Kink Advent Calendar” this year, so 24 chapters with 24 different kinks. Enjoy <3

Warnings: Check all the sex tags on Ao3

Read on Ao3

~⭐~

Day 12 - Riding 

After their intense scene, Peter was out for a while. Tony made sure to rub cream into his husband’s red ass before he wrapped him in a blanket and carried him over to the couch. He went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water and leftovers from dinner so he could take care of Peter once the Omega would wake up. 

 Peter had been perfect. He had trusted Tony so completely, without even batting an eye and the Alpha was honored that they had experienced Peter’s submission together. Tony had always had a weak spot for domination, loving to take control of the people around him, but with Peter, it was something entirely else. It was attraction, it was responsibility, it was…

 Love. 

 Tony didn’t know when it had hit him. There was no moment, no point in time when he suddenly realized his feelings. No, love came slowly. It started with affection, genuine care, and admiration. Life wasn’t easy for Omegas, they were still restricted by conservative norms, but that didn’t stop Peter from going his own way.

 His husband was young, maybe too young for Tony, but Peter had already achieved so much. He had studied, even though society told him it was for Alphas, he had graduated early, even though he was just the fourth Omega attending MIT at all. And what for? That some Alpha would keep him at home like a little house-omega? 

 Hell, no. Tony had done everything to prevent it. He had courted the boy, married the boy, signed the stupid permit for the boy, just to see Peter happy. But he hadn’t expected how perfect Peter really was and how good they were together. 

 Peter was kind, attentive and kinky, everything Tony had ever dreamed about as a mate. It didn’t take him long to catch feelings, and against the odds, Peter seemed to like him too. Tony didn’t know if the boy loved him, he dared to hope so, but he wouldn’t strain the Omega with his feelings until Peter was ready for them. And therefore, the Omega had to take the first step.

 “Alpha?” Peter’s voice was soft, making Tony’s stomach flutter and he gave his husband a small smile. “How long was I out?”

 “Not long, baby. Twenty minutes.”

 Peter looked at him baffled before he moved to make room for Tony on the couch. He hissed when his ass came in contact with the fabric of the blanket, and Tony had to suppress a small chuckle. The Alpha liked the thought of his marks on Peter’s body.

 “I need you to eat and drink something.” Without protest, Peter drank the entire bottle of water and ate all the leftovers Tony had brought. The Alpha was impressed. Peter seemed to get hungrier and hungrier with each scene. 

 After Tony had made sure that his Omega was properly cared for, he pulled Peter onto his lap, making sure the fabric of his pants didn’t brush against the sore bottom. He cuddled Peter against his chest, keeping him close and savoring the closeness without saying a word. 

 They sat on the couch in silence, minutes ticking by, and Ton realized he loved moments like this even more than the sex itself. It comforted him to have his Omega on his lap, fucked out and cared for, and Tony knew he already saw Peter as the father of their future kids. 

 For a while, Peter was content to sit in silence. He cuddled against his Alpha and occasionally pressed kisses on Tony’s shoulder. But as soon as the Omega got his energy back, he wanted to talk.

 “You promised me to tell me about your fantasy.”

 Tony didn’t know whether he should smile or groan. Peter was a menace, always willing to care for people, and Tony was silently pleased that he was the receiver of Peter’s eagerness. But Tony was concerned he would pressure Peter into something as well. 

 “Baby, I have to ask you something before we talk about my desires and you have to promise me to tell me the truth. Can you do that for me, baby?”

 Peter lifted his head from Tony’s chest and looked into the Alpha’s eyes, his expression serious and open. “Anything.”

 Tony swallowed. This Omega would do a lot for him and Tony had to be careful not to take advantage and push him too far. “Baby, I know you want to please me, and I know you want to be good for me, but you have to promise you’re going to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, okay? Whatever I like, I only enjoy it if you like it as well.”

 “I promise, Alpha.” Tony found nothing but honesty in Peter’s eyes. “You can tell me about your fantasy and I’ll tell you if I want to try it or not.”

 Tony felt relief before arousal could kick in. Peter had promised him, now it was on Tony to trust. 

 “I’m into role play.”

 “Like, teacher-student roleplay?” Peter asked confused but without judgment. 

 “It’s not my favorite fantasy but yes, it would work for me as well. Police officer and thug, boss and secretary, professor and student. There’s a lot to explore.”

 Peter was silent for a minute, clearly lost in thoughts, but Tony could be patient. He wasn’t ashamed of his fantasies, but he didn’t depend on them either. If Peter didn’t want to play with him, Tony would be completely fine.  

 “What’s your favorite fantasy?” Was it curiosity in Peter’s voice?

 Tony thought about it before he replied. “I definitely like professor-student-roleplay, but my favorite is probably doctor and patient.”

 “Doctor and patient?”

 Since there was still no judgment Tony changed his tactic. His voice dropped low and his lips pressed against Peter’s ear. “Yes, baby. Imagine you’ve just had your first heat, visiting your doctor to make sure you’re healthy. I’d bent you over the exam table, make you spread your legs for me so I can get a closer look. Would you like that baby? Like to let me look if everything is fine?”

 Peter whimpered, so perfectly responsive and he started to press his hips against Tony’s. He was still naked, so the Alpha could get a perfect look at the little cock, slowly growing under his gaze. It didn’t even take a minute until Tony could smell the first drop of slick dripping on his pants. 

 “I’d put a finger in your needy little hole, baby, check if you’re wet and open, just like an Omega should be after a heat. How would you react if I touched your prostate, feel if everything is fine, huh? Would you get even slicker? Dripping over the exam table like a slut? Or would you act all bashful, pretending you’re an innocent virgin that you’re definitely not?”

 Tony achieved exactly what he had planned with his words. He had a lap full of aroused Omega, whining and begging for him while the room was slowly filling with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. Peter’s arousal smelled heavenly.

 “A-Alpha, can we do it now?” Peter looked at him eagerly, his pupils dilated, already trembling in his Alpha’s arms. The reaction of his Omega stroked Tony’s ego.

 “No, baby. Your bottom is still sore and I haven’t prepared anything. Be a little patient.” The disappointment in Peter’s eyes broke Tony’s heart. “Don’t be like that, sweet thing. Let’s compromise. You can sit on my cock for a while, and I’ll make sure to surprise you with roleplay soon, alright?”

 Peter pouted, but the prospect of sitting on his Alpha’s cock was too good to refuse. Tony could feel how his husband's finger fumbled with the zipper of his pants, pulling them down just enough to get out Tony’s cock. The Alpha was already hard, he always was around Peter, so the Omega only had to shift his hips a little to get Tony’s cock inside. 

 They had a lot of sex, Tony knew it, but he was reminded again when the slick walls of his Omega took him in without even a finger of prep. For a second, Tony felt bad about it, guilty that he could think about nothing but fucking his gorgeous Omega, but soon the movements of Peter’s hips took every thought away. 

 Tony liked their scenes a lot, loved to see Peter’s ass red after a good spanking, or his arms tied behind his back, but sometimes he just wanted to feel Peter close like this. His Omega was moaning above him, taking inch after inch of his cock.

 Usually, Tony would talk. He would tell his Omega how beautiful he was, would tease him with Peter’s desperation. Hell, he would call his husband a slut just to see the endearing blush on Peter’s face. But today, Tony was silent. 

 He was overwhelmed by emotions, fondness, admiration, love, and it was so much he had to fight back the tears. Thankfully, Peter was unaware, blissfully riding his Alpha’s cock while he chased his own pleasure. 

 “I’ll come soon, baby.” Tony was too riled up from all his emotions, from the love he felt, to hold back much longer. He could already feel his cock twitching, chasing the release inside of his Omega’s body while the slick walls squeezed him deliciously. 

 Tony didn’t want to come before Peter did so he wrapped his hand around Peter’s leaking cock that was trapped between their bodies. The touch elicited the first cry from Peter, high-pitched and needy, desperate for more. Tony knew Peter by now, knew that he would come soon if Tony did it right. 

 So he picked up a rhythm that matched Peter’s thrusts, stroking him and bringing him closer to the edge. 

 In the end, they came at the same time. Peter’s walls squeezed him so tightly that Tony lost control, spilling more and more of his seed into his husband’s body. He didn’t let himself knot, Peter’s hole had been fucked enough this day, but he enjoyed his orgasm nevertheless. 

 Tony had never been as obsessed with another person before, constantly searching for Peter’s warmth, and he held the Omega against his chest even as his cock softened and the wetness gushed out of his husband’s hole onto Tony’s pants. He felt so close to Peter, never wanting to let him go.

 At this moment, Tony prayed to every god out there that Peter would learn to love Tony back. It was a lot to ask, but there was nothing the Alpha wanted more. Minutes passed, minutes in which none of them made any attempts to move until Peter eventually wiggled out of his grip.

 “I’m a mess, Alpha, and I’m hungry.” 

 So Tony did what he always did. He pressed a kiss on Peter’s forehead, fetched a wash cloak from the bathroom, and opened the fridge to look for food. Taking care of Peter was almost like an instinct. When he settled back onto the couch, Peter hadn’t moved, waiting for his Alpha to clean him up. 

 The thought warmed Tony while he cleaned the mess they had made and fed Peter pieces of pineapple and some nuts. Life was perfect like this and Tony would do anything to protect the Omega who he loved so much.

[imnottiredofgettingoveryou]

Ambivalence (capitalist!Elliot x reader)

AKA I have no idea what canon is gonna do with AU Elliot but I know what I’m gonna do.

Warnings: Just PWP smut 

Word Count: 1779

A/N: If you sent me a request I promise I’m working on it!! This idea just grabbed me by the tail and wouldn’t let go.

It was a rare treat that you woke up before Elliot.

He had always been an early riser, but especially so as of late; his responsibilities as CEO of AllSafe seemed never-ending, and there just weren’t enough hours in the day to waste them sleeping in. Even before his workday started, he would be answering emails, reading the latest cybersecurity news, or fine-tuning whatever presentation or pitch he had to give that day.

It was part of what you loved about Elliot - how driven he was, how hard he worked to make sure Allsafe stayed on top and, by extension, his employees stayed happy. But loving all of him sometimes meant sacrifices. During these stretches of long days at the office, it sometimes felt like you barely saw each other. But that just made you cherish moments like this one that much more.

You were snuggled up behind Elliot, one arm wrapped around him so you could tangle your fingers up with his. He liked being the little spoon when he was stressed out. He could forget about everything but the feeling of you wrapped around him, of your chest rising and falling against his back, and it wound him down enough to sleep. Neither of you had worn clothes to bed for awhile - again, making the most of any opportunity to be close to each other - and you were silently grateful for this opportunity as you shifted away from him a bit and began tracing your index finger up and down his spine. Still asleep, his body reacted to the touch, muscles twitching beneath the skin.

You liked that. You wanted more.

Seeking an audible reaction from him, you fanned out your fingers and ran them from the tops of his shoulders down to the base of his spine, then back up again. The barely-there touch made him stir, and you watched the little undulations of his back muscles hungrily. Jesus, you thought to yourself. You know she’s touch-starved when.

There was no time for you to be ashamed of your neediness; the foggy whispers of the day’s first light were beginning to sneak into the apartment, a ticking clock for your time together.

You sighed and resumed your previous position, chest against his back and your outside leg wrapping lazily around his hip. You reached around him, drawing figure 8s on his stomach. You let your fingers drift lower, playing with the little trail of hair that began on his lower abdomen, and you heard and felt a soft “Mmm” of appreciation from Elliot.

“Good morning,” he rasped, deep voice still thick with sleep. He snuggled back into you, grabbing the leg that was wrapped around him and pulling you closer. “What time is it?”

You pulled away from him to turn and grab your phone from the bedside table behind you. 6:25AM

Elliot rolled over to face you, then reached out and traced the lines of your cheek and jaw with his fingertips. The crestfallen expression in his eyes and the desperate longing in his hands matched your own.

“My alarm’s gonna go off in five minutes,” he whispered, trailing his warm knuckles down your cheek.

“Elliot-”

“Tell me. Tell me not to leave, and we’ll stay here all day. All week if you want.”

And he really wanted you to, you thought, as he pushed you back onto the mattress, crawling between your legs and wrapping them around his hips. He wanted you to beg him to stay, to take the responsibility of that choice away from him.

Everything else was negotiable when push came to shove. But he would always, always do what you said.

One hand held his weight off of your body and the other dug into your hip, holding you in place, the firm pressure contrasting with the gentle affection he was lavishing on your neck. He nuzzled a trail from your ear down to your collarbone, lingering on the spots that made your breath catch in your throat. He liked the way your legs tightened around him when he teased the skin there; the drag of his lips and teeth against you was making your head swim.

Elliot pulled back to look at you, moving his hand from your hip up to your chin. He tilted your head up and pressed slow, soft kisses against your cheeks and nose, then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours.

“C’mon,” he said. “Just call my assistant and tell her Mr. Alderson’s been kidnapped.”

You smiled at his joke, but you knew underneath that, he was telling you the truth about himself. He wanted to hide from the world with you, to be surrounded by you, buried in you, where he didn’t have to be worried, where he knew he wasn’t fucking things up.

Stay, you wanted to tell him. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care about the rest of it.

You thought of keeping him in this bed all day. Marring the smooth, perfect skin of his back with your nails. Tearing into each other until he was fucked out and you were sore.

But if you’d kept him home every time you had wanted to, he never would have made it this far.

Instead, you reached up to cup his face and pulled him down to kiss you. His eyes still closed, he tilted his head and let muscle memory and your responsive body guide the way his lips moved against yours. Slowly, firmly, with purpose he kissed you, the hand on your chin moving to your hair. He couldn’t seem to get close enough to you, like he would grind your bones together if he could. You could feel his weight, his heat as he pressed his skin against yours all along your bodies. He coaxed your mouth and your legs further open and filled the space with himself, tongue dipping in to taste yours at the same time his tip pressed just barely into your folds. He filled your mouth with his tongue the way he wanted to fill your pussy.

He let his bottom lip linger against yours before he pulled away, and the whine in your throat betrayed your submission to him, your desire for him to make a mess of you in every possible way.

But...

“Alarm,” you reminded him through your shallow breaths. There wasn’t time for you two to stay like this.

“I know,” he sighed, pulling back to sit up on his knees. “Shower with me?”

Grasping at straws. But as he looked at you with his best puppy-dog eyes, bottom lip between his teeth where yours had been moments before, you knew you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you agreed. A broad smile stretched across his face, and he stood up and held out his hand to you to lead you to the bathroom.

Once you had both stepped into the shower, he shut the glass door and moved to press you up against the wall opposite the showerhead. His strong arms pinned your wrists above your head, and he leaned in so close you could feel his words against your lips.

“Don’t touch anything,” he rumbled, pressing his knee against your sex. “Let me.”

Elliot released you to spin around and turn on the water, shielding you from the stream until it warmed up. He dipped his head underneath, and you observed the paths taken by the droplets of water that made their way down the muscles of his back, wanting to follow them with your fingertips.

He turned around and pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you as the hot water cascaded over your body. Once your hair and skin were damp, he walked you back against the wall and re-positioned your hands above you. You kept them there when he let go and squirted some of your body wash into his hands. He rubbed them together until a thick lather formed, not bothering with a washcloth. Elliot reached up and pushed your hands apart so that your arms formed a V, then began washing them. He started with your wrists, working the suds into your skin. His hands were thorough as he rubbed up and down your arms. Once satisfied, he lowered your hands to your side for better access to your shoulders. He applied some pressure as he scrubbed there, massaging the tight spots near the base of your neck, coaxing a satisfied moan from you. Moving on, he drug his fingers down across your breasts, washing underneath them first and avoiding stimulating your nipples directly; but when you arch your back just a little, he obliges and teases them into peaks with the pads of his fingers.

 “Fuck,” he groaned. “I can’t wait.”

Strong hands reached under your knees and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around Elliot’s waist. You gripped his shoulders, figuring he was long past caring about his no-touching rule. You reached between your bodies to spread yourself open for him as he guided the head of his cock to your entrance. Elliot’s mouth was on yours, moaning against your lips as he pushed into you. 

It had been a while since you and Elliot had done this in the morning, and you were tighter than he was used to. You whined and dug your fingers into his back as he stretched you, and he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Oh my god, baby. Fuck.”

“I know,” you soothed. 

He ground his hips against you until he was fully inside, then began to thrust slowly, pushing as deep as he could each time. Your moans ricocheted off the bathroom walls and Elliot started to fuck you harder; he wanted the neighbors to hear. He buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could muffle his own noises, and you tangled a hand in his hear, grabbing a fistful and holding on. You could smell sweat; you would both need a real shower after this.

Soon, too soon, he was trembling in your arms. 

“El, don’t stop yet. You feel so good.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I can’t hold back.”

His thrusts became frantic; you clung to him as he pounded into you, and you angled your hips up so that his pelvic bone rubbed against your clit every time he hit bottom. He cried out against your neck as he came, any remnants of friction disappearing as his cum filled you. You fell over the edge as he rode it out, and you screamed his name as your walls spasmed around him.

Outside the bathroom door, his alarm blared in vain.

[ohwhatamessiam]

Self Control - Chapter 12

Summary: The end of the semester is upon you, but the drama is not done yet! 

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Language, uncomfortable feelings, and maybe some secondhand embarrassment. 

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m back much sooner than intended, but you know, quarantine and social distancing dictate life now! There’s 1 chapter left in Self Control, and if you’re lucky, I might spring an epilogue on ya (we’ll see how the next month or so goes)! Thank you to @fangirlisms-22​ for beta’ing my sudden writing binge. I tried to tag everyone, but some blogs have deactivated, changed urls, or won’t let me tag them. Let me know if you need me to change your url on my list. Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic.

I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!

Tags are still barely open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!

Self Control | Masterlist

You had no idea how much two weeks could change your life. 

You and Chris had barely spoken to one another, only given polite greetings when running into each other at the office. The rest of your communication was through email. 

And Robert had sent the story you were working on from before break to a few of his friends and former students at literary magazines. The story you had started during break was becoming more of a means of therapy, a confessional of your relationship with Chris. And it was helping you process what happened.

It was the last day of classes, and the last day before semester papers were due. The assignment was for the students to choose their favorite story or writer of the semester and then to expand upon what they learned in that specific unit. Whatever specific story or person they chose, they were supposed to research who else has used it as inspiration for work since. It could be modern television or film, or another story or author that was influenced. And then they had to explain why they chose that subject. What made them interested enough to do further research upon it, and how it might affect their future consumption of art and literature.

It was a relatively open-ended subject and for the first time the whole semester, students were actually using your office hours.

And one student in particular who’d been giving you the cold shoulder turned up. 

Tom.

He’s perched on the edge of the seat across from you, his laptop on the ground as his hands dig through articles he’d photocopied at the library. He’d chosen Keats as his essay topic, and knowing that you also held a soft spot for Keats, he wanted your opinion. 

And the deadline was approaching dangerously quickly.

“So I covered all the adaptations and inspired works, and his legacy. And I wrote about how his work is going to change my perception of poetry moving forward. I just think I’m struggling with why Keats was my favorite unit this semester.”

“That’s okay, sometimes when you get so used to academic writing, it becomes hard to write about yourself, and your own feelings. But putting sources and quotes aside to examine your own mental processes is an important part of literature and writing.”

“Okay, I understand that. But I don’t think that my honest answer about why I took an interest in Keats is appropriate for this paper.”

“If you’re worried about Chris or I reading something personal, you don’t have to be. Anything you write will be private. We won’t say anything to anyone.”

Your mind wanders to what could make Tom so worried. Did it have to do with family or his childhood? Keats had a difficult and tragedy filled childhood. Did it have to do with Keats dying so young, or the discussion of his possible addiction to opium?

His eyes drop to the folder on his legs, his fingers picking at the edges of its pages. “Are you sure?” You nod but his nerves aren’t done. “My reasoning might not be very appropriate for an academic setting.”

“Tom,” you say, your eyes softening as you watch him. “Your reasoning doesn’t have to be an expansive philosophical or literary reason. It can be, but it can also just be as simple as you liked his poems. That you found his life tragic but fascinating. Or that the words and rhyme schemes were pretty or interesting.” His eyes meet yours, the edges of his mouth ticking up the slightest bit. “Don’t overthink it. Just be honest with yourself and the text.”

He nods, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, (Y/N). I will be honest. And I’m going to try to trust you and Prof. Evans.”

“Thank you.” You give him a short nod, showing your gratitude in a punctuated fashion. He watches you for another moment, his brown eyes searching for something. But then he gulps and stops. His fingers place his materials back in his bag. 

You sit up in your chair a little, almost saddened that your time with him is up. It was nice speaking with someone who didn’t look at you with desperation (because of finals) or pity (because of Chris). Tom’s thoroughly preparedness had made this the most interesting and easy conversation in weeks.

He packs his bag quietly and you let him. He’s a student, no matter how much you appreciate this time with him, there are clear boundaries. You will not cross them. After everything, that’s something you’re damn sure of.

At your door he pauses and says thank you. You give him a small smile, “You’ve done well this semester. I look forward to reading your paper, Tom.”

He cracks a smile, and you notice the slight rosiness that colors his cheeks. He raps his knuckles against your door for the last time this semester, and then he goes. 

A pang of guilt lands in your gut, but you don’t know what to do with it yet. His blush probably meant nothing, he was just flattered. But that guilt stays nestled there, a reminder of what has happened, and a warning about what’s to come.

_______________________________________________________________________

Finals pass without a hitch, for both you and your students. You’re able to read the final papers from your apartment, away from any pity or other heavy feelings. You and Chris had decided to randomly split up the workload so you could get through them quickly and give thorough feedback. But final grades are due on Tuesday and you plan on going into your office to enter them and pick up the last few things you’ll need for next semester.

You get to your office in the afternoon Monday, hoping to miss Chris who said he’d come in early if any students wanted to dispute any last grades with him.

You did not end up with Tom’s paper in your final stack, and you wonder what he ended up writing for the rest of it. You’ve been in your office for almost two hours when you decide you’ll let your nosiness win, and you find Tom’s submission online. As you're opening the file, a heavy knock echoes from your door.

He speaks before you get the chance to look up, “Uh (Y/N)?” The way he says your name reaches your skin, your pulse, well before you find the strength to see him. You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a shallow breath before you answer.

“What can I do for you, Chris?” 

He’s still the Chris you first met, clean, crisp lines composing his appearance. The Chris he might have always been. Maybe you just got a private viewing of him, a show for only your eyes. Maybe your Chris was a piece that he never let out. Maybe just an alias. A way to distance his actions from who everyone thought he was. 

There is no trace of your soft or rumpled time together.

His eyes catch yours, and there’s something there. A pain, a distance, a longing. But it goes away.

And then he’s stepping into your office, “I wanted to ask you something privately?” He closes the door behind himself, but remains standing.

Does he want to get back together? Is he going to divorce Jennifer? Is he ready to choose you?

With your mind running wild, you make a conscious effort to clasp your hands together and keep your face blank, eyes steady.

“What is it?”

“Have you read Tom’s final paper yet?”

All that hope, gone. A pang of annoyance settles in your core. And it’s accompanied by that hint of guilt.

“I have not. Since you graded it, I didn’t need to.”

“Well… I think you should.” There was something in his eyes again, a spark nearly indicating intensity or concern.

“Okay, um. I’ll take a look at it.” You do not tell him you already have it open. You skim the first page, finding nothing but brief analysis and lots of references. “So far, there’s nothing unusual here. It’s a solid paper.”

“Keep going.” The tension of him standing in your office, waiting for you to finish reading agitates your nerves. Your eyes flick to his, but there’s something else mixed in with his previous intensity. There’s an edge, a little too sharp to ignore.

You keep reading. The second page is finished, and it’s literally everything you two had already discussed. The third page is where things get interesting. 

Tom wrote that he enjoyed the lyricism of Keats, but what really cemented the poet as his favorite was his TA. 

You.

He wrote that since Keats was one of your favorites, he paid more attention to it. That he saw you view Keats’ work as beautiful, giving it a reverence that he argued Keats should even be honored to have. That he looked up to your opinion and your interests, and that’s how he fell in love with the poetry.

Heat spreads across your chest, your face. You’re honored, but also, this is not what you expected from Tom. You look down from his paper, trying to search your mind for any conversations you had with him that would indicate that he was paying too much attention to you. And unfortunately, it’s there. So is the guilt you felt the last time you saw him. 

But you know nothing happened here. You would have never entertained anything more than your positions in this academic institution allowed.

“Seems like he really learned a lot from you this semester.” The edge is there, and this time you can identify it. Humor.

“What are you trying to say?” Your words come out more defensive than you intend.

“(Y/N). This kid has a crush on you. Hell, in his hormonal mind, maybe more. Did you know?”

You shake your head. “No. No, if he has a crush on me, that’s his business. I was nothing but kind and open to Tom, but I didn’t know about this.” Truly, you’re referring to the paper more than Tom’s supposed crush.

The humor leaves him. “Kind and open? Are those two things strictly professional?”

The warmth of your skin turns into something worse, anger. “They were. I would never cross that line with a student.”

His hands brace his body as he leans onto your desk. His face mere inches from yours. “But you’d cross it with me? Your colleague and your boss.”

His words hit you like a slap. You flinch in response. How dare he insinuate that you might be a problem here, a repeat offender of an inappropriate relationship. 

You want to yell at him, to let your rage out. But instead, you put on your best passive aggressive smirk. You remind yourself of everything that’s happened. He doesn’t get to see you angry or upset anymore. He gets a civil, bare minimum now.

“I will repeat it. If Tom has a crush on me, that is his business. I know he dropped by my office hours pretty often this semester, but I figured my hours fit his schedule better. And no. I was not crossing any boundaries with him. I would not do that.”

He opens his mouth, his eyes clouding with a hint of regret.

“And I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been pretty occupied trying to hide a different relationship all semester. I didn’t have the time to consider Tom as anything but a student, when most of my time was occupied by someone else.”

The guilt you felt before dissipates, but Chris’ downturned lips and furrowed brow just indicates that it has found another home. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” He sighs and pulls back from your desk. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well, you can’t take it back.” Even though every ounce of you wishes he could. Hell, you wish you could take back this entire interaction. That he had never walked to your door. “So let’s just move on.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Yeah, he’d been doing that without you for a while. 

“I don’t know how you want to handle this situation though,” he adds, still standing over you. “If you want to talk to Robert or call Tom in to talk to-“

“Robert doesn’t need to be involved. Tom may have crossed a line into a personal territory, but he’s never acted upon his feelings. So there’s no need for administrative intervention.”

“Are you sure?”

“Chris,” you sigh. You know what you’re going to say next will hurt and may not be completely true, but you don’t need your professional reputation questioned again. “I already lied for your sake once this semester. You could return the favor by keeping this to yourself.”

“I don’t kn-”

“Don’t put a target on Tom’s back.” Your voice comes out strong, authoritatively. You’re settling this now. “I remember being his age and getting dumb crushes on TAs. It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t need to be mentioned again.”

He freezes in front of you, fully taking you in. Maybe he only got little pieces of you this semester too. Maybe it was time you both saw each other for who you fully were. 

“Okay.” He nods to himself, letting out a deep breath. “Okay.”

He stays stuck in that spot, accepting your argument.

“So, if that’s settled…” you begin. But his hands squeeze together and his eyes focus on the edge of your desk again. You watch him, wondering what would cause him to look as lost as he did the last time he had been in your office.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you something else.” His blue eyes are back on you, and there’s that twinkle again. Is it longing or pain? Just the fraying of his nerves? You don’t say anything, just let his gaze burn through you, waiting for him to work up the courage. 

“I’ve been writing again.” Sebastian had told you he’d been writing when you two were together. You hoped selfishly that he’d stopped when he went back to Jennifer, but apparently not. “The novel I’m working on. It- it’s inspired by some of what happened this semester.”

So you weren’t the only one working through your feelings with writing. But your writing had been vague. It was different characters, different situations, just some of the same emotions and complications. What was he using from the last 4 months? You’d made it through your affair without ruining your career here. Hopefully, he wouldn’t blow your life up with some story about you two now. 

When you don’t answer, he turns his back to you. His breath comes ragged, he’s worried. “I just thought you should know.” 

“As long as you don’t use my name, or anything too specific, I guess that’s fine. I can’t stop you.”

He turns back quickly, his eyes wide. He must not have expected you to let this go so easily. But you can’t blame him for using the same coping mechanism as you are.

“I don’t even know if it’ll turn into anything important. I just didn’t want it to be a surprise if it did.” 

“That’s fine.”

He leans onto your desk again, making sure his eyes are level with yours. They’re so earnest, it hurts. There’s a piece of him there that you used to see so often. That you used to think was yours. 

But it had been three weeks. And it makes it a little worse knowing you might never see that sincerity again. 

“I’ll make sure if it does go somewhere, that you get to see it first. I owe you that much.”

You nod, your eyes trained on him. He doesn’t look away. 

The intensity between you two is still there, pulling you toward each other. But you said you were done with that. You couldn’t change his decision, and it seemed he hadn’t taken it back either. 

His face moves to you, his mouth nearly on your own. You hadn’t been this close since before Thanksgiving break. You can feel his breath on your lips, it tickles your skin. The person you were before break would have used his mouth to relieve the itch. But that’s not who you are anymore. 

You pull back from him, putting the necessary distance between you two. He stands up straight, his expression somewhere between confused and upset. 

You tell yourself something very important in the moment: he doesn’t get to be upset that you’ve changed. And you don’t get to be upset anymore that he wouldn’t. All that is past you.

“Thank you, Chris.” You say loudly, but without malice. “If you have nothing else to add, I think we’re done here.”

“Of course,” he whispers. He closes his eyes, and the next time he opens them, all those previous emotions are gone. Like no part of the last several minutes happened. He leaves your office door open, just as it had been when he’d come in. 

And as you look up, you notice two sets of eyes watching you from the hallway. It is Elizabeth, and her friend and fellow grad student, Letitia. They watch you with pity. You want to be done with that. You force a smile to them, and then close your office door.

_______________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, all the final grades are submitted, and your stomach aches for something to eat. After the day you’ve had, maybe you’ll pick up Italian on your way home. You deserve large amounts of wine and pasta.

As you’re walking on the path to the parking lot, the sun setting around you, you hear feet pound against the pavement behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Sebastian jogging toward you. ‘Hey (Y/N),” he calls out. You slow your pace so he can catch up. 

He takes a moment to catch his breath, his hair is all messed up. The soft and fluffy look works for him. But then you chide yourself for noticing that. 

Once he composes himself, there’s an apologetic smile smeared across it. “Look, I’m sorry about how I acted toward you at Thanksgiving. I didn’t know what was going on with you and Chris.”

If you’re done with the pity, you’re done with this too. “Don’t mention it, Seb.” He grins at you, his eyes crinkling as his apologetic face disappears. “Yeah, I’m trying out the nickname.”

“Good. But are you sure? I was absolutely a dumbass about you two this semester.”

“Sebastian. It’s over. I’m done with Chris. I’m walking into winter break ready to be done with this last semester. I’m ready for something new.” He watches you, his eyes wide. He must notice that you're serious because he settles into a nod.  

“Okay. I’m right there with you. My semester has been messy too.”

You quirk a brow at him, wondering how messy his semester could have been compared to yours. What, was he living up to his reputation by sleeping with his TA too? Or did Chris say that to scare you away from him?

“Look, I’m going to tell you a secret, (Y/N). And when I meant messy, I meant messy.” You watch him as he looks around the campus to see if anyone is nearby. “I know Chris has already suspected part of it, but while he was with you, Jennifer was with me.”

Instinct takes over and you slap his arm. 

“Hey, they were on a break. And she’d been flirting with me for a whole year!”

You want to be mad at him for him sleeping with his friend’s wife. He violated a serious code of friendship. But for some reason you can’t. And you’re feeling something dangerously close to relief.

You can’t stop yourself, you laugh, loudly. If anyone else had been around, their lives would have been interrupted by the sound.

“I can’t tell if you’re taking this well.”

You smile at him genuinely. “I am actually. And I feel almost sort of, relieved?”

“Oh, have my fuck ups made yours feel less bad?” You wouldn’t have called your relationship with Chris a full fuck up. You didn’t regret it like that. But Sebastian wasn’t wrong. You reach the parking lot where your cars are and he turns on his heels. He gives you a little bow, “I’m so happy my stupidity could be of service.” 

You pull your keys out, ready to unlock your car. “Thank you for that, Sebastian.”

“By the way, keep working on that.” He leaves your side as he heads for his vehicle.

“Working on what?”

He unlocks his car from his key fob as he pivots. “My nickname. I want to make sure you have it down for next semester.”

“Is it really that important?”

He gives you the most devious smile you’ve ever seen from him. And from the time you’d spent together, he’d given you many. “It is to me. I prefer that all my TA’s are comfortable enough to treat me as a friend.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t heard who Robert was pairing you up with for next semester. You knew it wouldn’t be Chris, but you’d been hoping that he might give you a semester off of assisting.

This time his laugh rang out through the campus. 

“Yes (Y/N). Take the break to recharge and prepare. We’re gonna have a hell of a time teaching creative writing next semester.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Tags: @irishdancr24​ @lostboyinneverland​ @captainmarvels​ @suz-123​ @funlizzie02-blog​ @void-imaginations​ @cryingovershipsthatneversailed​ @breezykpop​ @jcc04220​ @nys30​ @jonsnowisnotdeadthough​ @guera31​ @wickedcitywitch @london-dreamer71​ @patzammit​ @lilypalmer1987​ @talannalew​ @thatonetuesdaywhensam @supperunnatural20​ @evanstanfanatic​ @lucinapomona​ @r5rocks101​ @dolphinpink310​ @bojabee​ @zlixlle @smashley816​​ @stevieang​ @youtheheckisbucky​ @chrisbck @bit-of-a-timelord​ @sebastian-i-stan​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @ssweet-empowerment​ @sophiealiice​ @imaginesofdreams​ @anotherawkwardaustralian​ @lostxsea​

[hisgirlwonder]

House of Wolves - Part One

Length: 4.6k words Warning: N/A Synopsis: You’ve been offered an apprenticeship at Kineros Robotics and you couldn’t say no; you’ve been dreaming about working in the field for as long as you can remember. Will it be everything you’ve been building up in your mind, or will it all come crashing down around you? Notes: Set somewhat in AHS? Y/N is, as you will read, nineteen and took time off after finishing school before searching for a job. She’s found her dream job but it isn’t without risk. Also, I decided to make Y/N’s character a virgin but we will delve into that more in another part. This is an idea that came to me at work and it was the easiest almost 5k I’ve pumped out before. I think this might be my longest fic? The boss/employee thing is a definite kink and somewhat based off a real-life crush I had on a manager years ago at my first job. I’m also taking inspiration in this little series (I guess it is?) from a few movies I’ve seen.

It had been nearly 3 months. Something like close to ninety days, roughly 2,160 hours, around 129,600 minutes (okay, give or take a few hundred) since you found out you got in. Six weeks went by after the submission of your video and letter as to why you should be picked and you had basically given up hope that the spot would be yours... until that day, 3 months ago, when you received an e-mail telling you that you’d been chosen and you almost fainted.

“Honey, you need to get up. You don’t want to be late for your first day.”

A voice rouses from your sleep, causing you to groan and rub at your tired eyes. Your vocal cords aren’t quite awake yet leaving you with a husky tone as you ask, “What time is it?”

Every bone in your body wants to stay under the covers for another five minutes. Your mother stresses that five minutes was actually half an hour ago when she first tried to get you out of bed and that you didn’t want to be rushing at the last minute.

You roll over to check the clock on your nightstand and luckily you still had a couple of hours before it was time to leave for work. This meant you didn’t have to worry yourself into a state. Today was the day you start your apprenticeship at Kineros Robotics; only the most prestigious robotics company in your city – you’d been waiting for this all summer; every morning since receiving the offer you would pinch yourself to make sure this wasn’t just a dream and it was actually happening.

Your mother has parked herself on the edge of the bed, looking at you with doting eyes and more excitement in one finger than you have in your entire body. It wasn’t surprising at all because you were her only child. I guess in ways she lived through your success.

She asks what you want for breakfast and you tell her you’re so nervous that you probably can’t even stomach a glass of juice. She somehow doesn’t believe you, cheekily adding, “I’m sure this is a problem that blueberry pancakes could solve,” pushing her weight up off of the bed and walks over to pop a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, okay, you got me. I’ll get ready and then be down.”

*

It feels like holes were being burned into you as stares hit when you come into to the kitchen. Your mother is admiring the beautiful creation she had made all those years ago and is hit with pangs of nostalgia. Time was ticking by much too fast for her liking – one minute she was taking you home from the hospital, the next you were crawling around on the floor in a diaper and sooner than she’d care to admit you were starting high school, buying your first car, and now, your first day at your first job.

She exclaims, “Look at you! You look all grown up. Look at these curls!”

The newfound responsibility you’d acquired and what you were dressed in did make you feel like you were 29, not 19 when you looked in the mirror. You were aiming for “not a nun but not quite a slut” as your best friend would word it; a white blouse paired with a cardigan, your favourite black skirt, and heels which used to terrify your mother - she didn’t want you falling over and injuring yourself; you assured her each time you wore them, both with word and by action, that you could, in fact, walk in these shoes and that if you were going to injure yourself you didn’t need shoes to do it.

That woman liked to encroach on your space, both physically and mentally. She called it motherly love but you sometimes felt like it was more like motherly suffocation. Being an only child was hard because you were subject to all of her worries as well as her happiness. Brushing her away, you remind her, “Mom, mom, stop. It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

She stands in front of you, a few inches taller, hands reaching for your collar to straighten it with tears forming in her eyes. “Yeah, Y/N, but this is a milestone. It’s your first real job out of high school. My baby is no longer a baby.”

You sit down at the table and your eyes hit the plate before you, confessing that it all looked pretty delicious. Aside from being a parent, she was the queen of pancakes and nobody could change your mind. The sweet scent flooded your nostrils and your stomach instantly started to scream out to be fed. You started to cut up your food and piling it onto your fork, ready to take a mouthful.

“It’s an apprenticeship, not a job.”

Your mother settles on a chair across the table from you, pulling it in while she responds, “Sweetie, that’s just another name for a job. You’re being paid and gaining hands-on experience, that’s what counts. Do you know much about your boss?”

You swallow the mouthful you’ve been chewing on and affirm what you’d been told, “Only hearsay. That he’s young, powerful, and wealthy.”

Your mother wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. She warns, “Yes, well, if he’s nice to look at don’t let his pretty face fool you.”

She’s concerned and unbeknown to you she had every right to be. You always tried to see the good in people but your mother had what they call a mother’s intuition and she knew there was something lurking beneath the surface.

Mildly offended and also slightly worried at the subtle accusation, you hit her back and remind her that you were more than just a nineteen-year-old girl who would get heart-eyes over every boy. You’d been dreaming about a career in mechatronics since you’d started high school and no boy, no man, no human was going to take the opportunity away from you.

“Mom! Of course not. You know how badly I’ve longed for a shot at this ever since I realised what I wanted to do.”

Underneath it all, you know she cares and that she’s projecting her own insecurities onto you. She didn’t get to live out her dreams and you were hit with some guilt because you were the reason behind why – this left you with even more of a need to make her proud.

The warmth of her hand hits your skin as she reaches out and caresses the back of yours, trying to apologise, “I know, I’m sorry. I just worry. I should know you’re smart enough to learn from my mistakes. Boys can be so tempting. I remember when I met your father and-“

You cut her off and snap at the overused line she was going to spin. You tried to take a deep breath, remembering that her mistake wasn’t you; it was the fact that she hadn’t planned things out more carefully. “Yes, and the two of you worked out so well, didn’t you?”

That man, if he could be called one, made you sick for the hurt he inflicted on your family. From as early as you can remember he made trouble for you and your mother before running away with a woman he barely knew. He was barely a man – what man leaves his young child and wife for a floozy he met god knows where?

Your sight flicks to the watch on your wrist and you’re hit with a gut punch – the “wonderful” conversation with your mother took longer than you wanted it to, leaving you barely any time left to fight the traffic before you’d really be late. “Oh, shit, I have to go!”

You pick up your keys off the kitchen table and kiss your mother’s forehead before rushing out the door.

Breathlessly, you mutter to yourself, “Crap, crap, crap. Traffic better be kind to me.”

-

Traffic was certainly not kind. You arrived at Kineros Robotics ten minutes after you were due to start and you were already dreading it because being late was not in your nature. You rush in the front door and arrive at the reception desk, ringing the bell. A woman with fiery red hair dressed in a beautiful purple outfit comes to see to you. She shoots you a forced smile, closer to grimacing, “You must be Miss L/N. My name is Wilhelmina Venable.”

“Yes ma’am,” You tell her, attempting to catch your breath. You stick out a hand for her to shake but she doesn’t reciprocate your actions - taking one look and she’s obviously coloured unimpressed; it wasn’t obvious if it was because you were late or because she didn’t like the look of you.

All you get is an order to follow her. She leads you a couple of doors down past the reception area and informs you, “Mr Langdon doesn’t appreciate tardiness. I’m aware you called in which is appreciated but don’t make it a habit.”

“I’m sorry Wilhemina-” you already had an apology ready that you’d drafted in your head while stuck in the traffic. She doesn’t want to hear and lifts her hand up, signalling for you to stop.

With her sharp tongue, she corrects your lack of better judgement, “It’s Miss Venable to you.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, Miss Venable. I promise I won’t do it again. Traffic was a nightmare.”

The room you arrive at looks very different from the rest of the building. Kineros Robotics looked mostly sterile but from what you could see through the glass, this room was cosy. “We’re here.”

She hits you with a sinister smile; as if she was aware of something you weren’t, and pulled open the door. “You should go in first.”

So you do, gingerly stepping into the office with Venable a few steps behind, and the two of you wait for his attention. He stops typing, only to tell Venable to leave - his words were short, cold and imagined they would have tasted unsavoury rolling off the tongue.

He didn’t bother to look at her when he spoke but with you, it was different. He looks at you, flashing a heartfelt smile, and holds an arm out to point at the chair the other side of his desk. “You must be Y/N, please do sit.”

You weren’t ever really one to disobey rules and so you immediately sit down without hesitation, resting your forearms on your thighs and your fingers intertwined each other; fidgeting almost. “Yes, Sir. I’m her. Thank you for offering me a place. I never thought I’d end up being able to fulfil a dream of mine.”

Michael stands up and moves around to perch himself on the edge of his desk, filling the space between you and the office furniture. “Your application was excellent. You have quite the brain. One which I would like to study. We definitely need someone like you here.”

You felt the heat rise in your body, flushing your cheeks and turning them rosy red. You were flattered, to say the least. Not a lot of people complimented you on your smarts, if at all. “Thank you, sir.”

“Tell me what this means to you. A lot of people would love to be in your position, are you willing to do anything for me and this company?”

“Oh, of course, I will. It means everything, sir. Like I said in my application creating this sort of thing, with my own two hands and brain, will be such a rewarding experience.” You gesture with your hands, trying to validate the importance and truth of what you were saying.

“Very good. Now, since this is an internship it means you will be doing a wide variety of tasks, a lot of them will be under me. You may have to work late, start early, do things out of the general scope of Robotics and more along the lines of helping me, helping this business. Is this acceptable?”

You nod your head in compliance; you already fell a pull to help him however you could. Your E/C eyes locked on him as he moves back to where he was, behind his laptop. “Excellent. I’d love to stay and chat but I have a meeting soon. Let me get Wilhemina to come and collect and you. She probably has a few things you can help her with.”

He calls Venable on his phone and asks for her to collect you. His tone of voice is so different; with you he is pleasant and with Venable he is blunt. His ring-adorned fingers catch your eye as he hangs up the call – you’d never seen anyone with such regal jewellery before, certainly nobody your own age. Michael didn’t appear to be more than ten years older than you. The rumours about his wealth must be truth. But how?

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”

Every compliment he has given you is swirling around in between your ears, causing you to feel slightly light-headed. You rise up from your seat and just about knock over the chair before catching it, preventing it from falling, “You too, and again, thank you.”

A smug look appears on Michael’s face, almost like he knew you were going to be fun, “Do be careful. We don’t want our future number one employee to hurt themselves now, do we?”

Venable clears her throat to make her presence known; you weren’t sure how long she’d been standing behind you but when you turned around to see her she was staring Michael down. She cocks her head in the direction of the exit and rushes you along.

The two of you walk travel to the front desk, chatting as you walk.

“I see you’ve met Michael”

“His name’s Michael?”

Venable scoffs, “Yeah but he prefers people to call him Langdon. If you’re one of the chosen ones you can call him Michael but honestly I don’t think any of us here are allowed to call him that.”

Arriving at the front desk, you see box upon box of what appears to be folders. It looks as if Venable had been inputting something into the computer. Your inquisitive mind knows you should be quiet but you can’t help it. Reaching for a folder sitting on the desk close to you, you pick it up and ask, “What’s all this?”

She snatches the folder from your hands and puts it out of your reach, “I have to input this data into the system. Housekeeping and all of that.”

You offer your help; saying she must have better things to do. She finds it amusing and you aren’t quite sure why. Those eyes of hers roll and she sarcastically remarks, “Yeah, like licking Michael’s shoes clean.”

“Really?”

“Don’t be so stupid. Do you even know how to use the software?”

It was at that moment you had to look away from her; part of you wanted to laugh and part of you wanted to cry. You felt so bad for her because she was so bitter; if you cut her open she probably bled black.

You swallow the need to be right, letting it sink to the pit of your stomach and dissolving in the bile before answering her with a simple “I sure do.”

“Huh, fancy that. You’re making yourself useful which is always needed at this company,” she points over to another room which you presume is a laboratory, “There are a few people in there who are anything but. Just input the data as it’s read on the documents, and then save when you’re done.”

She gestures in the other direction, where you see a door, “If you go through that, it leads into another hallway. There are signs to tell you where to go but you’ll find a café down there. Just go and eat whenever you want. You’ll need to break when you can… Michael can be rather demanding.”

“Good or bad?”

“You’ll see.”

*

“So how are we going? Settling in okay?” A familiar voice sounds from behind you. It’s Michael and his hand on your chair. You think it’s best not to get distracted by his presence and attempt at continuing your work. It was difficult. The cologne he’s wearing is to die for and lures your attention away from the screen.

Michaels head dips down to be level with yours and asks, “What are you doing, anyway?”

Biting back the feelings he brought upon you, eyes on the screen, you explain, “Wil- Miss Venable needed this entered into the system.”

He turns his head a fraction and so do you. “You can call her whatever you like,” he continues by lowly commenting in your ear, “technically you are higher than her since you’re my assistant as well as the office intern. I need you to stop working so hard on your first day and come with me, Y/N. Let's go get a coffee.”

“Okay, sir.”

You leave the computer as is, unsure of the password to unlock it, and Venable is nowhere to be seen to ask for assistance.

*

Michael is standing beside the coffee machine, his fingers hitting random buttons, “You know, I can feel your nerves from here, Y/N. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not giving you any caffeine.”

“Well, sir, uh, this is my first job and I didn’t want to mess up.”

He pulls his cup away from the machine, stirring as he walks over to the table where you are sitting and plants himself next to you. You watch as the cup rests against his plump bottom lip, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and then you watch as he swallows a mouthful of the hot liquid, focusing on his adam’s apple quiver; you can feel yourself growing flustered at the sight of him.

He rests the cup down on the table, that mouth of his transforming into a smirk mostly because he knows you’re watching him, “You know, you don’t have to call me sir. That’s usually reserved for naughty children and I don’t suppose you’re one of those.”

Oh, but I could be…

He continues, “I feel like we should be on a first name basis. Call me Michael.”

If you’re one of the chosen ones you can call him Michael…

“Also, I think you’re doing a fairly good job so far. I don’t have to worry about you, do I?” There goes the smirk again. Then another drink of his beverage. You began salivating at the thought of how wet his mouth would be. About those long fingers wrapped around the mug. About his hands doing things.

Those blue eyes catch you staring at his hands and you quickly look down at your own, with twiddling fingers. “N-no si- Michael, you don’t.” He grazes his teeth unconsciously over the same bottom lip you were eyeing up all the while aware of the effect he has on you from both you stumbling on your words and the body language you’re giving off.

“Michael, I don’t mean to pry and forgive me if I am out of line, but are you and Venable okay with each other? I haven’t met someone who holds so much aggression like she does. Is it because of me?”

He clicks his tongue before beginning to rattle off an answer he had prepared in advance for such a question, “Venable is a special sort.” He gulps down the last of his coffee and places the empty cup down. “I mean, one could assume she’s threatened by a prettier, younger, individual such as yourself but it’s not that. She’s jealous of me because she wanted to be the VIP of this company and then I offered Jeff and Mutt a price they couldn’t refuse and started calling the shots.”

“Oh.” You were relieved albeit a little concerned.

It was Michael’s turn to ask questions, “Why do I get the feeling you’re a girl who is smarter than she lets on? Let’s go to my office. We can discuss things further there.”

-

You didn’t notice earlier how nice his office is; none of this a surprise – any normal person wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his presence nearby, but you? You were the human embodiment of a kitten when you were nervous crossed with a deer in headlights.

After you’re done taking in the décor of his office, you sit down on the chair from earlier, Michael closes the blinds so others cannot see through the giant glass door; it was unlike anything you’d seen – both a wall and a door joined together. He travels over to his chair and uses a finger to invite you in, saying, “Come here, YN. Let me show you something.”

Your hop off and traipse around to his side, peering down at the screen. “I suppose since you’re my Right Hand now I’ll let you in on a secret. This is what we’re planning for the future. We want to open up another Kineros Robotics and let’s just say if I have my way Little Miss Venable will be out of our hair.”

This was all so much for your first day. You couldn’t imagine what you’d be feeling like the end of the week. Next, he was going to tell you he was going to take over the world, which you weirdly weren’t phased by the thought of.

“So, you’re going to fire her?”

A small chuckle erupts from Michael’s lungs, “God no. I’m sick of her attitude but she does keep things in line for the most part. She’ll be sent to work in our new building. Who knows, maybe one day you could end up in her role. Granted, of course, you would be more than just the front desk bitch. I only put her there because she was like a dog with a bone from the moment I met her regarding her authority over this place. She hates that I’ve overtaken her and it’s hilarious. She’ll never quit - nobody else would put up with her and that smarmy attitude.”

You smile, “Seems like it’s all working out for you then.”

His mouth drops and his sadness is apparent from the heavy sigh he expels. “It is, but it does get lonely.”

“What? No Mrs Langdon?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve never really found anyone with the je ne sais quoi that I’m looking for”

You were surprised and tried to reassure him, “I’m sure you’ll find them one day, Michael.”

His eyes dart to your mouth before scrolling up your eyes. You knew he was hiding something but you weren’t sure what it was. You didn’t dare pry any further – the two of you hadn’t even known each other for a day, despite how comfortable it felt.

“Maybe one day. I guess I should let you get finish whatever you’ve been roped into. You don’t have long until she’ll be forced to release you from her vice-like grip.”

You nod and walk out the door, heading back to where you were. As you get closer, you hear Venable screech and swear.

“Miss Venable, are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Why did you leave the computer unlocked?”

“I didn’t have the password to get in.”

She jumps down your throat like you assume she’s been longing to do since you got here, “You don’t think you could have just found me? Anyone could have accessed what was on here, you do realise that, don’t you?”

Michael rushes out of his office, coming to your rescue, “What seems to be the problem ladies?”

She points at you like a dagger and rats you out, “She left the computer unlocked, Langdon. With everything out in the open for anybody to access.”

He shoots you an apologetic look, “Y/N, excuse us. Wilhemina come into my office. Now.”

Both of them disappear behind the door. Voices start speaking - muffled but you can still make out what is being said.

“What do you think this is Michael? A game?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“You and that little girl out there. You know what I’m talking about. Why else would you not tell her off for doing something you drilled into me?”

Michael refuses to give her more of his energy than he needs to, simply telling her there was a time and a place. Venable didn’t like this. Not one bit. She starts to lay into him, words overflowing with discontent, “Bullshit, Michael. I’ve seen the way you look at Miss Virgin Pure since the moment she stepped foot in this building earlier today. She’s daisy fresh and innocently came to you for a job but you can’t help yourself. Your eyes are practically defiling her right in front of me. Are you willing to do anything for me? You make me sick.”

He spits back at Venable, putting her in her place, “Firstly, did I give you the right to call me that? No, and secondly, what makes you think I’m going to treat that girl like I would treat you?”

“Because it’s human decency?”

Venable didn’t quite get what Michael was hinting at; thinking he meant like a regular employer but he meant, subtly, that he found her unattractive. “Why don’t you go look into a mirror and ask yourself the same thing, Wilhemina?”

She stayed quiet because in the present moment when she’d been knocked off her own pedestal, she knew Michael was right.

You’d soon come to learn that she wasn’t always a redhead and that the burnt orange hair colour was a symbol which she wore like a badge of honour – she picked it to symbolise her red-hot temper and her willingness to burn anyone who got in her way. There was only one person who could beat her at her own game and it was Michael. You couldn’t blame her for the fact he destroyed her defences; in time he’d destroy yours as well.

He taunts her, “Cat got your tongue, hmm? Go back and do your job like I pay you to. Bring Y/N here, I need to speak with her again.”

She walks out of his office, with a face almost like thunder, refusing to look you in the eye.

“Michael wants to see you again.”

*

“Sorry to call you away from what you were doing, or not doing, but I’ve decided to limit the amount of time you spend with Venable. I don’t think she needs to be involved in our arrangement.”

“Our arrangement?”

“Thi- Your internship, Miss L/N. There are many things I’d like to teach you.”

Unable to look at you, he had to stop and clear his throat mid-sentence to hide the fact he was becoming somewhat unhinged. Venable wasn’t wrong in the accusations she shot at him. Something about you dissolved away the hard exterior Michael had built up. Was he thinking about you the way you were thinking about him?

You snap back to reality, trying to stop your mind from wandering in a place it shouldn’t. “Oh, yes, of course. I’d love to learn everything.”

After experiencing deflation from the earlier conversation and at Venable’s meltdown, his face again lights up from your eagerness. He was more than flattered you wanted to learn from him and trusted him to be your teacher. He’s back to his old self, teasing you, “You’re free to go for today but I better see you here on time tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Yes si- Michael, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Little do either of you know, you’ve begun playing a dangerous game.

Taglist: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sensitivethot @sammythankyou @sevenwondr @langdonsdemon @itsaliceinthegalaxy

[beaumontjemma]

Half an hour, and then I can go to lunch. Half an hour and the world’s longest list of stupid questions.

Jemma meditated on that fact, schooling her fidgeting hands into her lap and sitting as straight as she possibly could without aggravating muscles she’d beaten into submission that morning. This was just an interview. Just a bunch of canned sound bites, and charming smiles, and PR work for the team, all of which she could do in her sleep. She’d even put on foundation in the middle of the day for it, wouldn’t Lorelai be proud?

o1. Are you happy with the way the quidditch season is going so far?

A softball right out of the gate was always her favorite, and Jemma grinned, even as she tempered her response down from gloating, “I’ll call it cautiously optimistic, we’re doing well so far but I don’t plan on slacking off anytime soon.”

o2. What words would you use to describe yourself?

“Pugnacious? There’s a five galleon word for you, that’s got to be worth at least 3 regular words.” Spiteful, determined, and desperate to prove herself probably wouldn’t play quite how she wanted in the papers, however true.

o3. If you could change one aspect of your personality, what would it be?

“I’m sure there are people who’d like me to be calmer, but that sounds boring, doesn’t it?” Did they teach journalists to hope for the best like that, expecting an honest answer to personal questions? Like she was going to tell the whole damn readership of Quidditch Daily that she couldn’t breathe for the insecurity sometimes and she couldn’t figure out how to do more than pantomime confidence? “I really can’t think of anything I’d change.”

o4. Briefly talk about a defining moment in your life. What made it so important?

“Easy one, second game of my first year on the Hufflepuff team. It’s not the same winning games when it’s just you and a bunch of neighborhood kids and cousins and stuff, winning in a real game with real stakes for the first time was- I don’t even know. There aren’t words to describe that rush.”

o5. If you weren’t involved in the quidditch scene, what kind of job do you would have? 

Jemma tilted her head, faux confusion on her face, “Other... jobs? That aren’t quidditch? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing. I certainly can’t speak to it.” It would be boring to say she’d probably have just wound up in the family business, and worse, it would remind her that she could still wind up in the family business. Not that they weren’t great, just.. not what she was interested in or good at. 

o6. What are some similarities/differences between yourself and your teammates/coworkers?

“Well we all wear the same colors. That’s a similarity. And we have the same goal, winning the cup again. And we mostly play different positions, which is a difference. Some of them are taller than I am? I don’t think I ever bothered to quantify specifics, because they don’t matter until something starts going wrong, and nothing has with the dynamic yet. Maybe we’ll sign someone who’s horrible in the locker room, and that’ll be an issue and I’ll think about it, but otherwise it just seems like asking for trouble.”

o7. What kind of things do you think about when you’re alone?

“Athlete stuff, I suppose. Mile times and broom maintenance and what to eat for dinner. Christmas is coming up, that’s taken up a good bit of brain space lately.”

o8. What are three good habits and three bad habits that you have?

Ticking them off on her fingers, Jemma listed, “I wake up early most days, I floo my mum at least once a week, and I always buy a round when the team goes out. As for bad, I cheat on my diet with chips more than I should, I listen to terrible music, and sometimes I wait long enough before feeding my cat that he can actually see the bottom of his bowl in some spots, which he would probably call the height of cruelty.” It was a testament to the unoriginality of sports reporters (Mags excepted, of course) that she had rehearsed answers to that question down to a pithy and charming sound bite.

o9. What is your personal philosophy?

“Win? Learn from your mistakes? That’s a broad question, but I guess those two sum it up.”

1o. Would you rather be liked or respected? Feared or loved?

“Respected and feared, at least on the pitch, and that’s the important thing here, isn’t it?”

11. What are your thoughts on Puddlemere United?

Okay so it wasn’t the height of maturity, but it was fun to just make an extended raspberry noise and leave the question at that.

12. What about The Chudley Cannons?

“It would be awkward if my thoughts on the Cannons were anything other than glowing delight.”

13. If given a more lucrative position with another team, would you take it? 

Sucking her breath through her teeth, Jemma shrugged, “I don’t think anyone could afford to pay me what it would take to get me away from the Cannons. And they’d have to make a series of really stupid decisions first, like, I dunno, hiring Hagrid as head coach and changing the uniforms to include frilly skirts. I think the owner’s too smart to do something like that, though, so I don’t see me moving teams anytime soon.”

14. Would you consider yourself an optimist or a pessimist? 

“Optimist. I tried pessimism but I don’t think it’s for me.”

15. What’s one thing you would change about your team, if given the opportunity?

“Less groaning during drills. I’m including myself in that, so it’s fair.”

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

My submission for day 5 of @ravus-week under the everyone lives AU- but this one is also a modern Hospital AU and Coffee shop AU all rolled into one. This is actually a slightly different twist than my Magic and Miracles high school AU because there’s lots of similarities between the two. Because that also features Sylva owning a hospital. But with this one, his father is still alive and a doctor too instead of an artist like he was in M and M. And under these circumstances Ravus is a precious awkward sweetheart of a nerd because he’s had his family and ‘kingdom’ never stripped from him and it’s crazy how different people can turn out when you don’t rip everything they hold dear from them at a young age. 

Rated PG only because of a little bit of language and some kissing and things at the end. Also featuring Ravus/Selena pairing. 

Ravus Week- Hospital CEO AU/Coffee shop AU/EVERYONE LIVES AU

Ravus stood in line at the cafe in the hospital’s lobby as he patiently waited for his favorite barista Selena. She was currently taking orders and dodging all the flirtatious comments made by the other male patrons, mostly the other doctors, nurses, staff and the like who he knew had wives but who flirted shamelessly anyway. But Ravus could only partially blame them. Selena Ulric was the sweetest and most beautiful barista this cafe had ever had and her smile was brighter and warmer than sunshine itself. On her days off, he never even got coffee here because he had a Keurig in his office that he tended to use but even he couldn’t resist her. At least he had the decency to not outright flirt with her while she was at work. Not that he would even have a clue what he was doing if he even tried anyway. He was hopeless when it came to flirting and girls.

“Good morning Dr. Nox Fleuret, the usual this morning?” Selena asked cheerfully when it was his turn as she grabbed a large cup and her pen to write down his usual order which never over the course of the whole year she had been waiting on him- had ever changed. Not since he had come back from college and medical school and started working here full time with his parents, his mother especially, who owned the hospital. His little sister Lunafreya had just gotten accepted into the same medical school he had just graduated early from.“Yes please, thank you Miss Ulric.” Ravus nodded in confirmation with a shy smile as she punched the order in without having to look at the screen.

“So how’s Luna liking medical school?” Selena asked as she started to make his order herself, trading stations with her co-worker as she quickly grabbed the best looking muffin and snagged a raspberry macaroon and put them into a little pastry bag and handed that to him first so he could eat the macaroon while he waited for her to make his coffee order. He did notice, however, that over the course of the year, that she personally made his order, he had always thought she knew who he was and was afraid anyone else would get it wrong and that was why she tended to do to not just take his order, but fill it personally herself every time. She never seemed to do that with anyone else though, not that he noticed anyway.  

“Oh she’s getting overwhelmed I think. She said she was a disaster with drawing blood, she blew five veins.” Ravus revealed and Selena made a grimace that Ravus found completely adorable and couldn’t help but chuckle before he stopped himself, he had the most ridiculous and annoying laugh in his own opinion. “It’s ok, I blew eight the first time we did labs.” Ravus admitted as he finished his macaroon and fished a twenty out of his wallet to put in the tip jar, happy that he was usually the highest tipper at least, partially because of how much he liked and admired her and partially because she always gave him extra mocha flavoring without ever charging him for it and filled his cups to the point of overflowing, which he appreciated.

“Yikes,” Selena laughed as she continued to put his coffee order together before she overflowed his coffee cup again and had to take a towel to wipe it off real quick before she put the lid on. “Remind me to never let you draw my blood.” Selena teased which got Ravus to bark a loud deep belly laugh and one that he immediately clamped his hand over his mouth to stop. God it was like he was part Goofy. Hy-yuck! But it got her to laugh too so it couldn’t be all bad. Her laugh was beautiful and melodic and music to his ears.

“Hey now, I’ve gotten better, a tiny bit.” Ravus playfully defended himself.

“Sure you have,” Selena playfully jabbed before she finished his order and handed it to him.

“Do you think you’ll need your usual at three too?” Selena asked curiously and Ravus could have sworn she seemed almost hopeful but quickly stamped that down. She couldn’t have been. He was reading too much into this, like he felt he always did.  

“Probably, it’s quarter report day so chances are I’ll be back at noon also.” Ravus informed her and couldn’t help but smile when her whole being lit up at that too but he couldn’t figure out why.

“Well I’ll see you then- then.” Selena nodded as she snorted a laugh at her own choice of words as she blushed and couldn’t help but smile bashfully.

“Yup, see you then,” Ravus nodded and took his coffee and went up to his office.

At noon Sylva and Ravus stood in line to get their afternoon coffee and Sylva frowned when she witnessed so many of her male employees and co-workers flirt with Selena to the point Selena was visibly uncomfortable but had to put on a smile for the sake of customer service. It was ticking Sylva off that it was borderline sexual harassment.

“Does this happen all the time?” Sylva asked her son.

“What, the line?” Ravus asked in confusion as he looked up from his phone.

“No, that all the men harass Selena.” Sylva clarified.

“Uh, well all the guys flirt with her...” Ravus admitted as his blush darkened.

“No, that’s beyond flirtation, that’s harassment. That poor girl. Do you ever do anything about it?” Sylva asked her son and Ravus blushed even harder and ducked his head as he shamefully shook his head ‘no’.  

“I’ve wanted to but I never know what to say or how to help, this isn’t high school or college where I could outright punch someone for crossing the line.” Ravus confessed to his mother, dropping his voice to a low murmur.

“Well then you’re going to learn how to help.” Sylva insisted as she grabbed her son’s hand and drug him to the front of the line, dropping his hand when he was able to keep up with her.

“Dr. Liben, did I just hear you proposition my favorite barista when you already have a wife and daughter her age?” Sylva called out loudly and angrily as she stood next to him and crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a hard look and an angry snarl that had Dr. Liben’s color drain from his face as well as every other guy behind him breathe in sharply while their eyes went wide as they witnessed this. Oh fuck, Selena was Sylva’s favorite barista? Oh they all needed to behave then. Sylva’s wrath when protecting people she deemed worthy and seemed to adopt- knew no bounds. She would start, fight and win any war if it came to protecting people, especially younger people who were about her children’s age and younger.

“N-no, no, of course not.” Dr. Liben stuttered as he looked at his boss in subtle horror and Ravus caught Selena’s breath of relief.

“You know there is a coffee maker in the doctor’s lounge, I suggest you learn how to use it or learn some manners, respect and how to properly express professional courtesy or you, me, HR and the legal committee could always get reacquainted with section 14 of the manual on sexual harassment in the work place this afternoon.” Sylva put to Dr. Liben pointedly as his eyes grew wide and he gulped.

“No, no, that’s alright, the- the coffee maker in the lounge is fine.” Dr. Liben answered.

“Good, don’t forget to leave a tip and apologize for your inexcusable behavior.” Sylva reminded him as she looked from him to the tip jar and back at him pointedly.

“Yes, yes of course.” Dr. Liben stuttered and took out a twenty dollar bill and stuffed in into the tip jar and quickly and sincerely apologized to Selena before he walked away with his last cup of coffee he would probably have from the cafe.

“Selena, I know you have my number, please use it. Please don’t ever feel you have to put up with any of that, especially for the sake of customer service.” Sylva gently and softly urged Selena with all the warmth and gentleness she would use with her own children.

“Ok.” Selena nodded in understanding with an appreciative smile to both Ravus and Sylva.

“Well we’ll get back in line.” Sylva said.

“No need,” Selena shook her head no and handed Sylva and Ravus their preferred afternoon coffee orders that she had been working on while Sylva had been ‘chatting’ with Dr. Liben. “On the house, thank you so much for your help.” Selena smiled appreciatively before Sylva and Ravus both put twenty bucks each into the tip jar.

“Ravus, I suggest you give Miss Ulric your business card with all your numbers on it so that she can call you if she ever has another situation like that that will need to be handled.” Sylva suggested to Ravus.

“Yes of course.” Ravus nodded and put his coffee down on the counter and got a pen and wrote down on the back of his business card- his cell phone number.

“Here, call me if you ever need help with... anything.” Ravus offered to Selena as he slid the business card towards her across the surface of the counter.

“Thank you Dr. Nox Fleuret.” Selena smiled as she took it and smiled at the handsome picture of him on the business card.

“Ravus, feel free to call me Ravus.” Ravus clarified as he gestured to himself.

“Selena,” Selena nodded and smiled brightly again bit her bottom lip out of habit and Sylva blinked in surprise as she looked from her son to her favorite barista as her own grin grew scheming. There was something there after all! How long had there been something going on between her son and Selena?! Oh her husband was going to have a field day when he found out his efforts to get his son together with Selena hadn’t been for naught. And here she thought her husband had just been a wild goose chase with that.

“So how come you’ve never thought to intervene before?” Sylva questioned her son as they walked to the elevators.

“I didn’t know I could Mother.” Ravus answered as he sipped his coffee carefully.

“Well now that you do, will you?” Sylva asked as the elevator doors opened and she and her son stepped inside before Ravus hit the floor where their offices were.

“Absolutely.” Ravus confirmed with a nod as the elevator doors shut.

“And how long have you liked her for?” Sylva asked slyly.

“Since I started working here...hey!” Ravus realized as Sylva finally gave into her own giggle.

“So why haven’t you asked her out?” Sylva asked as she angled herself towards her son.

“Because she’s at work. It’s inappropriate.” Ravus answered, knowing that was the ‘right’ answer and Sylva raised a challenging brow at that and simply waited for her son to give his real answer.

“I don’t know, maybe she has a boyfriend already, I’m probably not her type. I don’t want her to think I’m just like all the other guys. Plus I sincerely doubt you or Father would approve.” Ravus rattled off all the excuses he had given himself for not asking her out.

“Oh my God, Ravus, you’re a grown man, you don’t need my approval or your father’s approval for anything anymore, especially something like this. There is nothing wrong with her or her line of work if that’s what you’re getting at and she’s a sweetheart, why wouldn’t we approve? Plus you could always ask her when she’s not on the clock and ask in such a way so that she could always say no without giving any reason for that ‘no’.” Sylva asked. “Or are those just the excuses you give yourself?” Sylva questioned.

“I don’t know, I don’t think she likes me, she’s nice to me because she has to be, it’s her job, I shouldn’t read into it, plus, I don’t know how keenly aware you are of the fact that I’m awkward Mother.” Ravus confessed as he swirled the coffee around in his cup and stared at the lid like it had all the answers to his problems. “You know I’ve never been good with girls. She’s so pretty and I’m not even average looking. She deserves better.” Ravus mumbled and Sylva couldn’t help but huff a little through her nose. Leave it to her son, the ‘genius’ to not pick up on subtle social cues and notice when a girl is into him. No wonder he had never dated in high school or college, girls probably tried to throw themselves at him but he was too oblivious to notice them.

“Ravus, tomorrow, after she gets off of work, you should ask her out, don’t ask her out to coffee, ask her out to dinner or even lunch if you don’t want it to be that formal. Take her somewhere nice, but not too nice where she would feel uncomfortable. Oh, actually take her out to…” Sylva began as she pulled her phone out and pulled up her notes because Selena often gave Sylva really good advice on where to go get lunch from.  

“Take her to The Purple Pig. That’s her favorite bistro, she loves the five layers of happiness sandwich, make sure she doesn’t eat just a salad. Talk, be charming, make her laugh.” Sylva specified.

“Mother how could I possibly ask her out after the example you just made out of Dr. Liben?” Ravus asked.

“Because you never have, you probably don’t even flirt with her do you?” Sylva asked.

“No, it would be inappropriate, clearly.” Ravus repeated and ducked his head again as the elevator doors opened and they walked back to their offices. ‘That and I wouldn’t know how.’ Ravus admitted in his head.

“Yet I doubt that’s why you never have. Ravus, your father and I have always encouraged to go after what you want. If you want to go out with her. All you have to do is ask, the worst that could happen is she tells you no and you learn to drink only Keurig coffee.” Sylva urged before she left to go back into her own office where her takeout had just been delivered.

Ravus barely got any of his work done and before he knew it, it was already 3:35.

“Fuck, I missed her.” Ravus hissed to himself in realization, knowing that Selena went home at 3:30. Maybe she was running late again today. He got up and quickly jogged to the elevator and mashed on the down button before the elevator doors opened to reveal Selena standing there with a cup of coffee, dressed in a hoodie as her apron was already off like she was on her way home for the day.  

“Hello Ravus, did you forget something?” Selena asked as she offered him the cup.

“Yes! Oh my God, bless you for remembering, my day just..got away from me, I thought I missed you, you didn’t have to bring it all the way up to me. Thank you so much though.” Ravus said as he gratefully took it from her.

“You’re welcome.” Selena nodded before the elevator’s doors began to close.

“Wait!” Ravus said and shoved his hand between the doors to keep them from closing as Selena reached for the button to keep the doors open too.

“Um, I know the scene my mother made earlier about the harassment thing and all and I should probably get reported for this but um, would you, if you didn’t already have plans, um, like to go get lunch with me sometime?” Ravus asked as he fought to look up and look her in the eye as he asked that and felt like blubbering idiot for not being more smooth with his delivery.

“Why not dinner?” Selena asked as she tried to bite her bottom lip again to keep herself from smiling so wide her face would split in half.

“Dinner, dinner would be great too, uh, just name the time and place.” Ravus put to her.

“I’m free tonight.” Selena offered.

“That works, I’ll probably be working till six though.” Ravus realized.

“Ok, we can meet at seven then.” Selena suggested.

“Perfect, um, want to go to the Pig? The Purple Pig I mean?” Ravus asked, tripping all over his damn self.

“Sounds great, I’ll meet you there, see you in a little bit.” Selena smiled brightly that was immediately mirrored by Ravus too.

“See you then, have a great afternoon, I can’t wait.” Ravus said before the doors closed again, Selena waiving a little as they did, Ravus waiving dumbly back as his heart soared.

“Yes!” Ravus cheered once the doors shut and the elevator began to descend again.

“What?” Abbey, Sylva’s assistant asked when she heard him.

“Is my Mother busy?” Ravus asked as he came running around the corner to see her, careful not to spill his afternoon coffee.

“She shouldn’t be.” Abbey gestured to Sylva’s door and Ravus came into his mother’s office.

“Guess what?!” Ravus crooned when he came into his mother’s office to see her going over paperwork too.

“Chicken butt.” Sylva snickered and laughed even harder when Ravus gave her an unimpressed look.

“I have a date.” Ravus revealed.

“Really? You asked her out already?” Sylva asked as she noticed the coffee cup in his hand and noticed there was Selena’s name and phone number written on the cup along with something else written on it too.  

“Yeah, I totally lost track of time and forgot to go down to get my 3 o’clock coffee and she brought me this after her shift ended. Isn’t that sweet? So we’re meeting tonight at 7 at the Purple Pig.” Ravus proudly informed his mother.

“Oh good! Don’t forget to put her number in your phone.” Sylva reminded him.

“What? I don’t have her number.” Ravus shook his head no and frowned in confusion.

“That’s not her phone number on the sleeve of the cup?” Sylva asked as she pointed to it.

“Huh?” Ravus said as he held the cup differently and turned the cup around before he found the number written on the sleeve as well as a simple question asking him out written in her handwriting before he lit up again and Sylva laughed again. Her son was like a nerdy golden retriever sometimes.

“Well good, I’ll make sure you’re out of here by no later than five.” Sylva urged.

“Oh our date isn’t until 7.” Ravus shook his head.

“Yeah, trust me, you’ll need the extra time, go home, get cleaned up and get her some flowers, and not from the gift shop here. Go to an actual florist and put something together for her. And don’t forget to make a reservation.” Sylva reminded her son before she turned back to her paperwork as Ravus got back up from the chair he had sunk into before leaving his mother’s office.

“And don’t forget to have fun.” Sylva added as he left her office.

“Yes Mother,” Ravus sighed in mock resignation.

By 4:30, Ravus was a sweaty nervous wreck, he had gotten absolutely nothing done that was work related. He had called ahead and made a reservation at the restaurant and then spent half an hour pouring over their menu online and then spent the remaining time looking up the meanings of different flowers. He skipped out of work and went home and took another shower and shaved again and got dressed in slightly dressy casual clothes. He went to the florist his father had always went to and had Mr. Gray help him put something together. Nothing really big but something really nice that was really beautiful that smelled amazing and that meant something should she be so inclined to read into it.

He went to the restaurant by 6:45 and fidgeted with the buttons on his sleeves of his button down shirt as he kept an eye on the door. Just as his beer got served to him did Selena come in through the door, right at 7 and looking more beautiful than Ravus had ever seen her looking before. Because she came to work so early, her hair was always put up into a pony tail or a messy bun and she never wore makeup. But now, her hair was down in soft curls and her makeup was done and she was looking particularly gorgeous and it took Ravus’ breath away. She scanned the room and Ravus waived at her before she came over and sat down.

“Hi,” Selena greeted cheerfully as she sat down across from him.

“Hi,” Ravus breathed before he remembered he got her flowers. “Here, these are for you.” Ravus offered her the flowers.

“Oh, thank you so much.” Selena beamed as she took them and smelled them. Making a pleased hum as she did so.

“Hey Selena, what can I get you to drink?” Crowe asked as she was their waitress.

“Oh, uh, could I get my favorite please? Thanks Crowe.” Selena smiled cheekily at Crowe when she saw Ravus was drinking a beer.

“You got it, want your fave as an app too?” Crowe instigated.

“Actually could we do a tasting menu please?” Ravus suggested and Crowe and Selena blinked in surprise at that before they gave each other a meaningful but agreeable look.

“Sure thing,” Crowe nodded and wrote that down and left again with their menus.

“So you come here often?” Ravus asked Selena when Crowe left as he noted they must have known each other.  

“I work here,” Selena huffed a laugh as she took a sip of her water.

“Oh! We could have gone somewhere else, I just, my mom told me you liked a sandwich here, that’s why I thought you’d like it here.” Ravus explained.

“It’s ok, I love the food here, I work here just on the weekends as a bar tender.” Selena informed him.

“Oh, awesome,” Ravus nodded before the two of them fell into a very easy conversation before the first of the appetizers were brought out along with Selena’s favorite drink which wasn’t even on the menu and Ravus seemed to notice how Crowe wasn’t even waiting on any other tables and seemed to be low key lurking around their table and watching them when she wasn’t in the kitchen. He then also noticed two different guys look through the little window of the doors to the kitchen every once in a while after each new plate was brought in. Maybe they were just protective friends? Seemed reasonable.

“What do you keep looking at?” Selena asked as she noticed Ravus’ line of sight deviate from her every so often.

“Two guys keep staring in our direction at the door to the kitchen.” Ravus softly informed her.

Selena turned and looked and just as she did two figures ducked from the window and huffed through her nose.

“Please excuse me for a moment.” Selena excused herself from the table and walked straight to the kitchen and pointed at the two figures when they reappeared in the window before they hung their heads in defeat that they got caught.

“Really?! Snooping on me on my first date?!” Selena demanded from her brother Nyx and his best friend who might as well be her brother too- Libertus, once the door was shut and she put her hands on her waist.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were on a date?” Nyx asked.

“Because you’re not my keeper! Besides I told Crowe and she’s our waitress and keeping an eye on us anyway. She’s not even waiting any other tables. She hovers us like the hawk she is!” Selena explained. “Look, Ravus is special ok, he was the only guy at work who didn’t flirt with me, to the point I didn’t think he even liked me and I practically had to ask him out on this date. He’s sweet and kind and his father has been trying to get us together ever since I started working there two years ago now. He’s the one I keep messing up his order because I’m too distracted by his gorgeous face and he’s never once complained. So we’re ok, chances are, he’s not even going to try to kiss me or make a move because he was raised to be respectful and polite. He hasn’t even tried to hold my hand or anything.” Selena explained.

“Is there a problem?” Crowe asked as she came into the kitchen.  

“Is he ok?” Selena asked Crowe worriedly.

“Yeah, he’s fidgeting like crazy though.” Crowe answered.

“With his buttons?” Selena asked and Crowe nodded. “Nervous habit, I should go make sure he knows everything is fine, so y'all can chill-ax, I’m fine, everything is ok.” Selena reassured everyone before she left and returned to the table where Ravus was trying really hard to keep it together and remain calm and not freak out.  

“Sorry about that.” Selena apologized.

“No, it’s ok, they’re probably just protective right?” Ravus guessed.

“Very, overprotective. But don’t worry about it ok? This is fun, I’m having fun at least, are you?” Selena reassured him and Ravus nodded yes.

“Good,” Selena smiled brightly and noticed he stopped fidgeting with his buttons, he did that the first six months he started getting coffee from the cafe and his dad had explained to her that it was his nervous habit so whenever she got him comfortable enough around her to not do that she took that as a victory.

The rest of the date was amazing and Selena found herself enjoying his company a lot more than she thought she would and wondered how on earth he had managed to stay single all this time.

“You know your dad told me you were usually pretty awkward and I can see you’ve been trying really hard not to be,” Selena noted as she tried to compliment him but it came out wrong, like most everything she tried to say to him that wasn’t coffee related, why was she like this?

“You can tell huh?” Ravus’ eyes fell as he picked at the food on his plate. Shit- he thought he was doing so good she wouldn’t notice how helplessly awkward he felt all night as Selena wanted to face palm herself.

“No, that’s not a bad thing, I’m not complaining or anything. Sorry, I was trying to compliment you and it came out wrong. I’m usually very awkward too and I’m trying really really hard not to be either and obviously I just failed and inserted my entire foot into my mouth.” Selena confessed as her whole face flushed and wasn’t surprised when Ravus’ head lifted and he looked at her in confusion.

“No you’re not,” Ravus gently argued.

“Really? Do you know that even though I try every weekday to make your coffee, I mess up more than I’ve gotten it right? Have you ever noticed how you always seemed to have too much mocha flavoring or the milk is practically scalding or I have to wipe down the cup because I always seem to overfill it?” Selena revealed.

“I just thought that was normal. I actually like it when you put in too much mocha flavoring and thought you were just trying to give me my monies worth.” Ravus admitted and Selena blushed and shook her head.

“Nope, honestly I just get so distracted by your gorgeous face I completely forget how to do my job. My coworkers keep a tally, they stopped keeping track after I broke a hundred times messing up your coffee.” Selena confessed and ducked her head to have her hair hide her embarrassed face as she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nuh uh, the only people to ever call me handsome have been my parents and my sister and they’re biased.” Ravus countered disbelievingly as he shook his head no.

“Doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” Selena practically sang as she finished her drink before dessert was finally brought.

“Wait, you’re serious? You think I’m handsome?” Ravus asked point blank after Crowe left again, not being able to get over the fact that a girl who he wasn’t related to thought he was handsome.

“Gorgeous. And yes I do, very much so.” Selena insisted.

“Has your drink been tampered with?” Ravus asked as he pointed to it and Selena had to laugh even harder. Oh he was precious.  

“I’m positive my drink has not been tampered with, I’m not crazy or delusional or running a fever or anything like that, my judgment is not impaired in any way, ask me tomorrow and my answer will be the same.” Selena reassured him and tried to stamp down her giggle as he seemed to consider that revolutionary thought for a long moment.

“It’s not a joke and I’m not kidding either and no- you’re not dreaming, yes I’m absolutely sure.” Selena added before she stuffed her mouth with cheesecake when he seemed to open his mouth to argue again before he closed it again and looked at her a little more puzzled that she seemed to have read his mind again as she smiled victoriously over her slightly bulging cheeks as she chewed and Ravus wanted to just stand up and kiss her beautiful, precious and adorable face.

“Ok I don’t get it.” Ravus finally admitted before he dug into the cheesecake too.

“Don’t get what?” Selena asked over her still full mouth, putting her hand over her mouth so he wouldn’t see her half chewed food.

“Why you agreed to go out with me.” Ravus clarified as he just continued to look over at her in confused amusement.

“Oh I’ve wanted to go out with you for a year now and been trying to give you subtle hints and I don’t think you picked up on any of them. Your dad has been trying to get us to go out for two years, ever since I started working at the hospital. He’s told me all about you, how you’re usually shy and awkward and how you fidget with your buttons on your sleeves when you’re nervous, how you graduated Harvard summa cum loude and got your four year degree in just under two, how you went to NYMC and got your six year doctorate in less than three years, also summa cum loude, and how you graduated high school early with highest honors too. That you live on coffee and textbooks and how you just turned 21 just a couple of months ago yet you’ve never been the party type or the dating type because you have a hard time connecting with people but yet you have no trouble with empathy or sensitivity.” Selena listed off as Ravus’ jaw subtly dropped.

“Your father is obviously very proud of you and your accomplishments.” Selena surmised. “Ok so to even the odds, would you like to know more about me so we’re a bit more even?” Selena asked and Ravus nodded yes breathing out a breath of relief as he mentally made a note to talk to his father that night or even tomorrow, but right now he needed to focus on her and what she was saying and even after Ravus paid and even tipped Crowe a very generous tip, they stayed and talked until it was almost closing time and Selena began to go sleepy and her eyes started to droop as she started blinking slower and slower and more often.  

“We should probably call it a night.” Selena decided once she looked over at the clock.

“Probably,” Ravus nodded in agreement as he got up and was pleasantly when she took his hand and walked with him out of the restaurant.

“So where’s your car?” Ravus asked as he paused outside of the restaurant but didn’t want to let go of her hand just yet, he loved how their hands fit together and loved the feeling of just holding her hand.

“Right over there, care to walk me to it?” Selena asked, not wanting to let go of his hand either.

“Sure,” Ravus agreed and started walking with her.

“So I had a lot of fun tonight, can we go out again?” Selena asked curiously.  

“Yes please, just, again, name the time and place and I’ll make myself available.” Ravus answered.

“Well I don’t really get a lunch but I love brunch and I usually go to the Broken Egg cafe around 10:30 for my break, would you like to go with me?” Selena asked hopefully.

“Yes, I’d love to.” Ravus confirmed.

“Could I kiss you?” Selena asked and Ravus nodded again before he kissed her, finally something he had been wanting to do all this time and he was so relieved she asked because while he was trying to find the courage to do so, he was still falling short. He couldn’t help but reach up and cradle her face in his hands, her beautiful, precious face.

This kiss was, in Selena’s opinion, hands down, the best first kiss she had ever had. She hadn’t had many, but it was still, above and beyond everything so far. It was electric, it was soft and tentative yet full of so much promise. She opened her mouth to him and softly swiped the tip of her tongue across his lips to see if he’d open his mouth to her in turn. She was delighted when he did and inhaled sharply through his nose and Selena was partially expecting him to pull away and use his hold on her face to pull her away from him, instead he almost froze until her own hands went to his waist and simply let her hands settle there for a heart beat before her own hands seemed to firmly take hold of him and pull him to be flush with her. And that seemed to be what he needed to let the floodgates let loose. And faster than Selena was expecting he pinned her to the side of her car and opened his mouth wider and kissed her deeper as his fingertips dug into the back of her jaw and her neck and he threaded his fingers through her silken locks and the kiss morphed from sweet and tentative to passionate as he seemed to pour his heart and soul into this kiss and Selena couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him and completely surrender to him. She could feel his hardening length as it was either purposefully or accidentally pinned between them and she realized he was packing and felt herself grow wet as she did her best to kiss him back in kind. Wow he was a much better kisser than she thought he’d be. And couldn’t help but fist her hands into his shirt under his coat.

When he finally pulled away for air, his eyes opened again to see Selena slowly open her own eyes as he searched her face for any sign of distress or disinterest or anything negative and to his shock, there was nothing of the sort. Instead happiness and adoration and...dare he hope? Affection? Love maybe? Seemed to appear on her face before he realized he was probably too close and took a step back so he wasn’t pinning her anymore before he realized he had a hard on and worried that he just crossed a line, she could probably feel it. Oh God.

“Wow,” Selena breathed as she continued to keep her hands at his waist and smoothed out where she had fisted her hands in his shirt.

“Yeah, very wow.” Ravus breathed and nodded as his hands slowly fell from her face, he didn’t want to let her go, but his propriety told him to reestablish their distance.

Selena giggled again, the sound making him smile brightly before he realized that her hands were still on his sides so he settled to simply let his hands stay where they were, his fingertips on the back of her head and neck as his thumbs were on her delicate jaw. She wasn’t pulling away from him and she wasn’t giving any indication that she wanted him to stop touching her.

Then she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him and holding him and kissed him again. Softer and sweeter this time as his arms wrapped around her in turn. Lord have mercy, did it feel better than anything ever had before to hold her in his arms. To kiss her, to taste her, to be close to her to be in her company. Her and coffee, his two addictions in life.

When the need for air arose they both pulled away and panted softly but smiled brightly at each other and rested their foreheads together and just stayed like that for a little bit before Selena felt herself grow even more sleepy and knew she should really go home and go to bed but she really didn’t want this date to end or this moment to end either, it was perfect. Ravus had been a perfect gentlemen and such a fun date and one hell of a good kisser which she had been really surprised, she had expected him to suck or at least be lack luster from lack of experience but color her surprised and she really, really, really liked him.

Ravus could tell by her drooping eyelids that she was growing sleepy and knew he needed to let her go sooner than later. “Are you going to be ok to drive home? You’re looking sleepy.” Ravus noted.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’ll be fine, I can text you when I get home to let you know I made it home safe.” Selena offered.

“Please do, I would worry otherwise.” Ravus admitted before he finally forced himself to withdraw from her. It had been the hardest thing he had ever made himself do.

“Then that’s what I’ll do, good night Ravus, I’ll see you in the morning and I’ll text you in a little bit.” Selena offered as she stole one more quick kiss before she got her flowers from the hood of her car and got in and waived at him before she drove away.

Ravus walked back to his car, feeling like he was walking on air and couldn’t stop smiling even if he tried. He got a text from Selena just as he pulled into his own driveway that she had made it home safe and he texted back that he had made it home safe too and looked forward to seeing her in the morning and meeting her for brunch as well and couldn’t wait until he saw her again.

His Selena.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent - “Negotiating Limits” (Rated NC17)

While going through Kurt's checklist of 'limits', Blaine feels overwhelmed, but not just by this.

By the whole of his life right now. (1655 words)

For @itallstartedwithharry.

Written for the Klaine Advent 2017 prompt 'limited', and takes place early on in their relationship, close to the very beginning of Blaine moving in with Kurt. And for anyone who asks, yes, they were Dom and sub before Blaine moved in, but their limits were much more casually managed than they would be with Blaine moving in. Hence, the official checklist, which probably not only covers what they do in the playroom, but how they handle things on the day to day. Dom Kurt, sub Blaine. Warning for self-doubt and insecurity.

Part 60 of Taking a Journey Together

Read on AO3.

“Hard limit, hard limit, hard limit, hard limit …”

Blaine scans down the checklist, at the many, many boxes he’s ticked hard limit, and sighs. Kurt, reading his email on his phone in the seat perpendicular, raises an eyebrow.

“That was a heavy sigh, pet. Is there something wrong?

“No, Sir.”

Kurt lifts his eyes from his phone in silent reprimand, and Blaine sighs again at being caught in a lie – a white lie, almost transparent, but still a lie. One of Kurt’s first edicts when Blaine moved in was to break him of what Kurt calls ‘easy lies’ – the types of lies people tell so as not to be a burden to others, such as saying I’m fine when asked the question How are you? because you don’t want to reveal that you’re sick to your stomach, or that your favorite pet just died and it’s tearing you to pieces.

Or because you know that the person asking doesn’t really care. They’re just being polite, practicing a commonly expected social convention.

Conversational lies.

Convenience lies.

But Kurt isn’t just anyone. Kurt is Blaine’s Dom, and Blaine’s role as Kurt’s submissive doesn’t make Blaine a burden. They aren’t just boyfriends, aren’t just lovers. Kurt has taken on the responsibility of caring for Blaine, so those types of lies have no place in their home.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just that … when we first talked about this, I was so sure that I was going to mark yes to everything, that I would be open to trying anything, especially the things I know are green for you. But looking at it all, considering it seriously the way you said … I feel so restricted. Limited. I … I feel like an amateur.”

“A-ha.” Kurt logs out of his email and puts down his phone, ready to give this issue his complete attention. “Something tells me this has more to do with just our limits list, pet. Doesn’t it?”

Blaine keeps his eyes trained on the list, on the checked boxes and on the items he has yet to get to, which he knows are going to be a no. But his Master is right. This isn’t just about this list. Blaine has no reason to be upset over it. They’ve talked about it many times. Kurt warned him there were things on it that he more than likely wouldn’t be ready for. It was a jumping off point, a way for Blaine to not only identify his wants and needs, but also to expose him to the things out there he never realized existed. It was actually kind of exciting reading through it all. Even the things that repulsed him on sight he found he was still mildly curious about.

But Kurt happened to give it to him on a day when real life insecurities were coming to a head, so instead of being this thing he could look forward to digesting slowly and examining rationally, it became the straw on the camel’s back.

“I thought that rehearsals for the show were going to be like the audition, Sir. And I did so well in the audition, you know? Everyone there – the casting director, the producer, Cyndi Lauper – they all seemed so impressed with my talent. But now, getting into it, immersing myself in it … it’s not the same. I feel like I’m not even in the same universe anymore. This isn’t my league.” Blaine shakes his head. “How did I even get this part?”

“You got the part because you are amazing, pet! You got it because you were so much better than everyone else, and it showed. You got it because you have an impressive resume – leader of a nationally ranked show choir, lead roles in off-Broadway plays …”

“But, maybe that’s where I peaked, Sir,” Blaine says, flinching when he realizes he just interrupted his Master. Kurt doesn’t call him on it, choosing to let this one slide, but one look in Kurt’s eyes tells Blaine that he’s gotten this far, he’d better continue. “Maybe those roles were the limits of my talents. Maybe the casting director for Kinky Boots made a mistake when he picked me.”

Kurt’s brow furrows. He suspects this comment isn’t coming from Blaine. Blaine has his moments of self-doubt, but getting this role in Kinky Boots had yet to be one of them. “Why would you even think that?”

“I … I can’t help it,” Blaine says with a heavy swallow. “Our director, he … he likes to yell. A lot.”

Kurt frowns. He doesn’t like that. Some random douche yelling at his pet? He doesn’t like that one bit. Kurt has worked with some pretty temperamental directors in his brief time on the stage, but one that yells from the get-go? Enough to erode his lead actor’s self-esteem after only two weeks of rehearsal? That’s beyond unprofessional! Kurt has clout in this city. There has to be something he can do about this! And as much as he’d like to press Blaine into telling him the details about this asshole so he can find this man and beat him to a pulp, that isn’t a solution to Blaine’s problem.

But it would sure as hell feel incredible!

Kurt can’t run into every situation with sword in hand and fix Blaine’s life for him. Blaine is an adult, and Kurt has to have faith that Blaine can handle things on his own. For now, Kurt will just have to add this man to the long list of people in Blaine’s life whose head he’d like to hang from his wall and move on.

“Like it or not, pet, life is about limits – recognizing limits, negotiating limits, pushing limits, even accepting limits.” Blaine raises a hand to rest his forehead on, but Kurt intercepts it, takes it in his own and holds it – for comfort, and to try to break Blaine of a habit that’s going to give him forehead wrinkles in the future if he continues. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. Limits are important. They keep us safe. They stop us from making rash and reckless decisions. Acknowledging your limits, especially here with me, is not a weakness. I will never, ever try to force you or manipulate you into going beyond a limit you’re not comfortable with. There are some things that are non-negotiable. I have those, too. And we have to live with that. Plus, just because something is a hard limit for you now doesn’t mean it’ll stay a hard limit forever. Tastes change in BDSM, the same way they change everywhere. For example, when I was in high school, I was good friends with a girl who was obsessed with reindeer sweaters ...” Kurt shudders dramatically. Blaine chuckles. “Luckily, she grew up, went to college, took my advice for once in her damned life, and the sweaters found their way into the Salvation Army donation bin.” Kurt tilts his head, gazing at his solemn sub with fond and nostalgic eyes. “You remind me a lot of her, actually.”

“Wha---why?” Blaine asks with an endearing look of surprise on his face. “Is it my … do you not like …?” Blaine looks down at the shirt he’s wearing – a white button-down with little red lobsters embroidered on it, his own hold-over from high school so it’s a bit outdated. But Kurt never said anything about his clothes before …

… even though he’s replaced quite a bit of them.

“Not your outfit, pet,” Kurt assures him. “I think your lobsters are darling. Your talent. Your ambition. She had both in spades, and so do you. She knew that if you gave her a stage and a spotlight, there wasn’t anyone in the world who could outperform her. See, there’s a difference, pet, between ‘can and can’t’ and ‘will and won’t’. When it comes to performing, I firmly believe there isn’t anything you can’t do, Blaine Devon Anderson, once you put your mind to it. So don’t worry about your yelling director, or anyone else who tries to bring you down. He’s trying to make you submissive, pet. Compliant. But you only submit to one person, don’t you?”

Blaine smiles. “I do, Sir.”

“And who’s that?”

“You, Sir.”

“That’s right, pet. In the end, he doesn’t matter. You got this role by being the best. So show him you’re the best. But don’t live up to his expectations. Live up to your own.”

“I’ll try, Sir,” Blaine says, and underneath the table, Kurt stomps his foot loudly against the wood floor. “I mean, I will, Sir! I will! I will! It’s just going to take a little practice, pushing that to the side.”

“Well, maybe you should try approaching him from a different angle, put on a different face when you walk through the door. This schoolboy charm you have is adorable …” Kurt runs a hand through Blaine’s curls, combing them through his fingers, watching them coil back to Blaine’s head when they break free “… and hot … but maybe it gives certain people the wrong impression.”

“Can you help me with that, Sir?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Blaine turns the list towards his Master and points to an item, one of the few in a sea of hard limits that he’s marked soft - interrogation.

Kurt looks at his handsome submissive, still with sad, puppy-dog eyes, but an enticing flush of red in his cheeks, and a subtle smile that’s both breathtakingly innocent and bewitching. Kurt imagines throwing a hood over that handsome face of his; tying him to a hard, wooden, chair; positioning him under bright, hot lights; and putting him through his paces very, very slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Kurt grins. If Blaine can withstand that, then rehearsal tomorrow should be a piece of cake.

“Finish this up, and then … it would be my pleasure.”

[margaretbeagle]

A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders

Developing the right content strategy for your personal or professional brand doesn’t have to be daunting. Sure, it can be challenging, but it can also be simplified. 

Solopreneurs and startup founders hesitate to dig into content creation for a few reasons:

1.         There aren’t enough hours in the day.

2.         They aren’t sure where to start or how to measure the success of what they create.

3.         It’s not a priority, with all the work that’s pending.

4.         They’ve already started but are stagnating, or don’t have a clear path.

Here’s an interesting infographic that digs into the numbers behind these reasons:

Source: OptinMonster.com

 These reasons are valid. Everyone’s experience is different.

Validity doesn’t mean obstacles are insurmountable.

We’ll get into that more a little later.

First, let’s define content strategy.

What is Content Strategy?

 Content strategy connects your brand’s work with your organizational goals, readers’ needs, and target customers. Content isn’t a charity. All content should be supporting a business goal or be the cure to a reader’s pain. Otherwise, it’s empty fluff, which doesn’t serve a purpose.

 A solid content strategy plan serves a few purposes for solopreneurs or in startups: 

1.         It serves as a guide for the voice, tone, and delivery of content.

2.         The plan outlines the promotion and distribution tactics you will use once the content is live, and

3.         It outlines the benefit your audience will receive from consuming the content (i.e., the problem it solves, actionable takeaways, or a reference point to be saved and returned to in the future).

There’s a fallacy that content strategies must be complicated and multi-layered to be thorough.

This fallacy leads to intimidation or hesitation for people with limited time to dig in and get started. Complex content strategies cause problems.

The Pitfalls of a Complex Content Strategy

Solopreneurs and startup founders are driven people, by nature. Nine times out of ten, that personality trait is a good thing. The exception is when it comes to content planning.

Perfectionism is your enemy when planning content. It’s easy to get too granular and assume each piece of content must be pixel perfect and deliver instantly impactful results.

Content doesn’t have to be perfect. Perfection shouldn’t be your goal.

When you strive for perfection, you’re sure to get frustrated. Life happens. And, when it does, the consistency of production gets derailed. When this consistency gets derailed, frustration is the result.

When there’s enough frustration, there’s burnout. When people get burned out, we quit, or worse yet, mail it in and do a half-hearted job.

What’s the cure for frustration? Simplicity.

Why Simple Strategies Lead to Great Results

A simple content strategy has the KISS principle as a foundation. 

KISS = Keep It Simple Silly

Simplicity limits the unpredictable. It enhances your control over the situation. It makes content creation something you’ll enjoy and value, rather than see as a chore that has to get crossed off a list. 

Compounding results are the core of why content is potent for personal and professional brand development, and a simple strategy allows you to get there faster by comparison.

Simple Content Strategies for Solopreneurs

There are two types of content strategies for solopreneurs to consider: blog content strategy and social media strategy. 

Let’s consider a blog content strategy first.

Blog Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

Building a blog from the ground up requires patience, consistency, creativity, and motivation. There will be days when you do not want to write 200 words of the 1,000-word post staring at you on the calendar.

If you don’t want to, that freelancer you’ve contracted probably doesn’t either. That’s part of the gig. The days you fight through and forge ahead matter the most.

When you can establish a plan that works for you, it makes the tough days more manageable.

Here are a few basic things to consider for your strategy:

1.         Set aside at least 30 minutes a day for content. Every day. This 30 minutes could be for writing a blog article or guest post, yourself, or delegating that responsibility to a freelancer you’ve contracted.

2.         Evaluate the competitive landscape and plan accordingly.  Sometimes the competition is light, and you can build a strategy focused around long-form, pillar articles. Other times, the competition is heavy, and it’s the right move to chase low-volume but low-competition keywords to rank quickly.

3.         Develop a deep understanding of your target reader. Before you write one word of content, you must know your target reader intimately. Who are they? What makes them tick? How do they behave? Does their behavior reflect what you would expect? Answering these questions helps you to frame your content in a way that will be attractive to them as readers.

4.         Who’s doing the content creation? You’ll likely be the one. However, if you can, contracting a freelancer or two on occasion can lighten the load. This consideration will be an ongoing one as you’re working to build out a blog as a solopreneur.

5.         Build a content calendar based on all the above factors. The content calendar should be in a visible place in your workspace, so it’s always there. This placement helps as a reminder to spend that daily 30 minutes. It could be an old-school paper calendar on your desk or the wall, project management software, or content scheduling software (there’s a ton of em).

6.         Stick with one type of content in the beginning. While it’s great to have different content on your blog in time, start with written content. In time you can pivot to doing some video, maybe a podcast or two, and some webinars. Again, KISS. Please keep it simple.

The timing of how you approach content creation for your blog is also essential. If you’re starting from scratch, there’s a 120-day plan which works very well, especially for those with limited time to write.

A 120 Day Blog Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

Over four months, it’s possible to make a profound impact on the domain authority of your website, and also the traffic it generates. There are a few steps to take in 30-day increments to make this happen.

  The First 30 Days

The first 30 days should focus on creating content for your blog. Develop these articles around keywords with a low-to-moderate competition level and a reasonable keyword volume. If you’re using a research tool Ahrefs, the keyword difficulty you should be targeting is anything 35 or less, and the monthly global search volume should be 1,000 or greater.

These articles should be in-depth, but don’t have to be long-form cornerstone content with several thousand words. A goal of 1,200 to 1,500 words per article is reasonable and reachable.

  Numbers source: Oberlo

When day 30 hits the calendar, you stop publishing content on your blog and turn to the next part of the strategy: guest post acquisition and publishing.

Days 31-90: A 100% Focus on Guest Blogging

Guest blogging is one of the fastest ways to organically build your blog’s domain authority and become more competitive in your niche. Once you’ve completed the first month of content creation on your blog, days 31-90 of your 120 days should be spent on guest blog acquisition and submission.

It’s a good idea to approach blogs in the 30-65 DA range if you’re just getting started with the process and nailing down your pitch. As you begin to win some do-follow backlinks from these blogs, you have more social proof, making it easier to win more significant opportunities in time. 

Don’t ever pay for links or blogging opportunities. You’ll get offered to do so by the occasional site owner, but that’s verging into “black hat” SEO territory that you want to avoid. To keep things above board, only write for sites that offer a permanent do-follow backlink in return for your work.

Everyone’s goals are a little different during these 60 days, but if you can land at least 8-10 links coming back to your website from guest opportunities, it’s an early success. After a few months of guest blogging, it’s time to turn attention back to your blog.

Days 91-120: The Hybrid Approach

After three months of content creation, two things are happening concurrently:

1.         Those blog posts you wrote in Days 1-30 start to gain a little traction, driving organic visits to your website.

2.         The links you earned from guest blogging point back to your blog, building your domain authority.

These two things working in tandem are helping build your competitiveness in the niche and increasing your ability to earn more traffic over time.

For the last 30 days of your 120-day plan, the focus is on a hybrid approach of writing on your blog and landing and writing more guest posts. The posts you write on your blog should focus on keywords that have surfaced from your original post. Some of these will be intentional, while others will be related keywords that you couldn’t have predicted.

This process will help you to grab more easy wins, even further building your momentum.

By the 120 day mark, you should have reached a couple of checkpoints – give or take:

1.         Your domain authority should improve to 15-20.

2.         You should be driving at least 1,000 unique visitors a month.

If these two things are happening, you’re on the right track. From Day 120 forward, you can rinse and repeat this strategy however you’d like to continue to build momentum.

Who knows, at some point, you may need to bring on a freelancer to help!

Your blog strategy and social media strategy need an alignment for maximum impact. Most of what you’ve heard about how to approach social media from scratch is probably wrong.

Social Media Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

 When you start sharing your content on social media pages that don’t have a following, you’re yelling down an empty hallway—yelling into the void.

You’ll see plenty of articles out there that suggest you share every item on every social medium every day to build an audience. If you don’t know who your audience is, you’re swimming directly upstream. It’s wasted effort, y’all.

  Instead, secure the social accounts you could see using at some point (probably Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, maybe Twitter), brand them, then leave them the heck alone. After you’ve been diligently working on your blog and building an audience for a minimum of 90-120 days, you can return to these accounts. 

After 90-120 days of consistent content creation, you should have an intimate understanding of your audience. Then, and only then, you can start to craft your social media audience(s).

Buy a few likes on Facebook from people who match your target reader. Do this slowly and deliberately. When you do, you’ll have a small (but ready) audience prepared to engage with the content you’ve created. Now start to share a little and see where it takes you, and tweak accordingly.

Pick one medium and dig in. Don’t spread yourself too thin. Following any other process is putting the cart before the horse. 

Blog content strategy and social media strategy is somewhat different for startup founders, but the core principles are similar.

Straightforward Content & Social Media Strategy for Startup Founders

How you approach content strategy as a startup founder depends where your startup is in its journey. How you spend time is tied directly to your daily responsibilities, and time to be the executor versus the delegator.

Startup content strategy should align with one of three phases:

1.         Fledgling

2.         Emerging

3.         Mature

Let’s take a quick look at how strategy changes for each phase.

Fledgling Startups

A fledgling startup is bootstrapping, or maybe has raised an initial seed round of funding, but doesn’t have a full-time employee focused on content creation. There’s a time crunch here for the founder, and they likely only have 30 minutes to an hour a day to focus on content.

A goal of one blog post a week is reasonable for a fledgling startup. Two hundred words a day should be the goal for a 1,000-word piece. That’s doable.

The 120-day blog content strategy outlined above for solopreneurs holds plenty of weight here as well. If the startup founder can follow a similar process by creating content themselves – or bringing a freelancer into the mix – the effort can have a similar effect on growth.

Suppose the founder lands a guest blog here and there, that effort that’s added to the mix. Guest posts aren’t typically tied to hard deadlines – allowing the work to get done when there’s time – but also have a substantial impact on the authority of your voice and the traffic base you can build.

Emerging Startups

In an emerging startup – one that has some consistent monthly revenue, a handful of full-time employees, and has maybe raised a Series A or B funding round – things are a little different.

The founder has a budget available to acquire content from freelancers, or maybe even contract with a freelancer to create content based on a monthly quota for a set price. In this case, the founder switches from the executor to strategist, feeding the freelancer the articles they would like written on deadlines, and are otherwise hands-off.

Even though delegation is the strategy, the expectations for freelancers must be set in stone and crystal clear for everyone involved. It’s advisable to have freelancers sign a contract that clearly outlines expectations, deadlines, deliverables, and the project’s length. This contract eliminates room for interpretation, which could stand in the way of productivity and a mutually-beneficial relationship.

Suppose the results of this delegation and content creation are strong enough. In that case, the founder may potentially consider bringing on their first full-time content hire and start to flirt with the thought of getting someone on board to manage social media on a part or full-time basis.

But that can come later; it shouldn’t be a priority until blog content has catalyzed a consistent traffic flow to your website.

Mature Startups

Mature startups are humming along as all systems go. The founder is now somewhat removed – if not removed �� from the content creation process. An Editor or Content Manager manages the content process with limited strategic input from the founder (unless things start going sideways). A full-time Social Media Manager is executing a social media strategy and may have another team member (an assistant or intern) that assists.

Content is acting as a full-fledged business engine, driving down customer acquisition and lead generation costs, and relieving many of the headaches founders experience with this early on.

As the startup moves from fledgling to mature, a founder should have increasingly less interaction with content. To get there, though, requires them to get their hands dirty and do some creation early.

Startups reach this level of maturity after several years of making content a priority. It doesn’t and will not happen overnight. It takes consistency, constant tweaking, and dedication to making content a core part of your marketing efforts.

Content creation is a commitment for solopreneurs and startup founders. The scope and nature of that commitment changes in time, but the initial steadfastness can drive huge dividends down the road.

If you have 30 minutes a day, you can spark your content program to become this business engine.

And, it’s more straightforward than it seems.

The post A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders appeared first on Scoop.it Blog.

A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders published first on https://improfitninja.weebly.com/

[devontroxell]

A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders

Developing the right content strategy for your personal or professional brand doesn’t have to be daunting. Sure, it can be challenging, but it can also be simplified. 

Solopreneurs and startup founders hesitate to dig into content creation for a few reasons:

1.         There aren’t enough hours in the day.

2.         They aren’t sure where to start or how to measure the success of what they create.

3.         It’s not a priority, with all the work that’s pending.

4.         They’ve already started but are stagnating, or don’t have a clear path.

Here’s an interesting infographic that digs into the numbers behind these reasons:

Source: OptinMonster.com

 These reasons are valid. Everyone’s experience is different.

Validity doesn’t mean obstacles are insurmountable.

We’ll get into that more a little later.

First, let’s define content strategy.

What is Content Strategy?

 Content strategy connects your brand’s work with your organizational goals, readers’ needs, and target customers. Content isn’t a charity. All content should be supporting a business goal or be the cure to a reader’s pain. Otherwise, it’s empty fluff, which doesn’t serve a purpose.

 A solid content strategy plan serves a few purposes for solopreneurs or in startups: 

1.         It serves as a guide for the voice, tone, and delivery of content.

2.         The plan outlines the promotion and distribution tactics you will use once the content is live, and

3.         It outlines the benefit your audience will receive from consuming the content (i.e., the problem it solves, actionable takeaways, or a reference point to be saved and returned to in the future).

There’s a fallacy that content strategies must be complicated and multi-layered to be thorough.

This fallacy leads to intimidation or hesitation for people with limited time to dig in and get started. Complex content strategies cause problems.

The Pitfalls of a Complex Content Strategy

Solopreneurs and startup founders are driven people, by nature. Nine times out of ten, that personality trait is a good thing. The exception is when it comes to content planning.

Perfectionism is your enemy when planning content. It’s easy to get too granular and assume each piece of content must be pixel perfect and deliver instantly impactful results.

Content doesn’t have to be perfect. Perfection shouldn’t be your goal.

When you strive for perfection, you’re sure to get frustrated. Life happens. And, when it does, the consistency of production gets derailed. When this consistency gets derailed, frustration is the result.

When there’s enough frustration, there’s burnout. When people get burned out, we quit, or worse yet, mail it in and do a half-hearted job.

What’s the cure for frustration? Simplicity.

Why Simple Strategies Lead to Great Results

A simple content strategy has the KISS principle as a foundation. 

KISS = Keep It Simple Silly

Simplicity limits the unpredictable. It enhances your control over the situation. It makes content creation something you’ll enjoy and value, rather than see as a chore that has to get crossed off a list. 

Compounding results are the core of why content is potent for personal and professional brand development, and a simple strategy allows you to get there faster by comparison.

Simple Content Strategies for Solopreneurs

There are two types of content strategies for solopreneurs to consider: blog content strategy and social media strategy. 

Let’s consider a blog content strategy first.

Blog Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

Building a blog from the ground up requires patience, consistency, creativity, and motivation. There will be days when you do not want to write 200 words of the 1,000-word post staring at you on the calendar.

If you don’t want to, that freelancer you’ve contracted probably doesn’t either. That’s part of the gig. The days you fight through and forge ahead matter the most.

When you can establish a plan that works for you, it makes the tough days more manageable.

Here are a few basic things to consider for your strategy:

1.         Set aside at least 30 minutes a day for content. Every day. This 30 minutes could be for writing a blog article or guest post, yourself, or delegating that responsibility to a freelancer you’ve contracted.

2.         Evaluate the competitive landscape and plan accordingly.  Sometimes the competition is light, and you can build a strategy focused around long-form, pillar articles. Other times, the competition is heavy, and it’s the right move to chase low-volume but low-competition keywords to rank quickly.

3.         Develop a deep understanding of your target reader. Before you write one word of content, you must know your target reader intimately. Who are they? What makes them tick? How do they behave? Does their behavior reflect what you would expect? Answering these questions helps you to frame your content in a way that will be attractive to them as readers.

4.         Who’s doing the content creation? You’ll likely be the one. However, if you can, contracting a freelancer or two on occasion can lighten the load. This consideration will be an ongoing one as you’re working to build out a blog as a solopreneur.

5.         Build a content calendar based on all the above factors. The content calendar should be in a visible place in your workspace, so it’s always there. This placement helps as a reminder to spend that daily 30 minutes. It could be an old-school paper calendar on your desk or the wall, project management software, or content scheduling software (there’s a ton of em).

6.         Stick with one type of content in the beginning. While it’s great to have different content on your blog in time, start with written content. In time you can pivot to doing some video, maybe a podcast or two, and some webinars. Again, KISS. Please keep it simple.

The timing of how you approach content creation for your blog is also essential. If you’re starting from scratch, there’s a 120-day plan which works very well, especially for those with limited time to write.

A 120 Day Blog Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

Over four months, it’s possible to make a profound impact on the domain authority of your website, and also the traffic it generates. There are a few steps to take in 30-day increments to make this happen.

  The First 30 Days

The first 30 days should focus on creating content for your blog. Develop these articles around keywords with a low-to-moderate competition level and a reasonable keyword volume. If you’re using a research tool Ahrefs, the keyword difficulty you should be targeting is anything 35 or less, and the monthly global search volume should be 1,000 or greater.

These articles should be in-depth, but don’t have to be long-form cornerstone content with several thousand words. A goal of 1,200 to 1,500 words per article is reasonable and reachable.

  Numbers source: Oberlo

When day 30 hits the calendar, you stop publishing content on your blog and turn to the next part of the strategy: guest post acquisition and publishing.

Days 31-90: A 100% Focus on Guest Blogging

Guest blogging is one of the fastest ways to organically build your blog’s domain authority and become more competitive in your niche. Once you’ve completed the first month of content creation on your blog, days 31-90 of your 120 days should be spent on guest blog acquisition and submission.

It’s a good idea to approach blogs in the 30-65 DA range if you’re just getting started with the process and nailing down your pitch. As you begin to win some do-follow backlinks from these blogs, you have more social proof, making it easier to win more significant opportunities in time. 

Don’t ever pay for links or blogging opportunities. You’ll get offered to do so by the occasional site owner, but that’s verging into “black hat” SEO territory that you want to avoid. To keep things above board, only write for sites that offer a permanent do-follow backlink in return for your work.

Everyone’s goals are a little different during these 60 days, but if you can land at least 8-10 links coming back to your website from guest opportunities, it’s an early success. After a few months of guest blogging, it’s time to turn attention back to your blog.

Days 91-120: The Hybrid Approach

After three months of content creation, two things are happening concurrently:

1.         Those blog posts you wrote in Days 1-30 start to gain a little traction, driving organic visits to your website.

2.         The links you earned from guest blogging point back to your blog, building your domain authority.

These two things working in tandem are helping build your competitiveness in the niche and increasing your ability to earn more traffic over time.

For the last 30 days of your 120-day plan, the focus is on a hybrid approach of writing on your blog and landing and writing more guest posts. The posts you write on your blog should focus on keywords that have surfaced from your original post. Some of these will be intentional, while others will be related keywords that you couldn’t have predicted.

This process will help you to grab more easy wins, even further building your momentum.

By the 120 day mark, you should have reached a couple of checkpoints – give or take:

1.         Your domain authority should improve to 15-20.

2.         You should be driving at least 1,000 unique visitors a month.

If these two things are happening, you’re on the right track. From Day 120 forward, you can rinse and repeat this strategy however you’d like to continue to build momentum.

Who knows, at some point, you may need to bring on a freelancer to help!

Your blog strategy and social media strategy need an alignment for maximum impact. Most of what you’ve heard about how to approach social media from scratch is probably wrong.

Social Media Content Strategy for Solopreneurs

 When you start sharing your content on social media pages that don’t have a following, you’re yelling down an empty hallway—yelling into the void.

You’ll see plenty of articles out there that suggest you share every item on every social medium every day to build an audience. If you don’t know who your audience is, you’re swimming directly upstream. It’s wasted effort, y’all.

  Instead, secure the social accounts you could see using at some point (probably Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, maybe Twitter), brand them, then leave them the heck alone. After you’ve been diligently working on your blog and building an audience for a minimum of 90-120 days, you can return to these accounts. 

After 90-120 days of consistent content creation, you should have an intimate understanding of your audience. Then, and only then, you can start to craft your social media audience(s).

Buy a few likes on Facebook from people who match your target reader. Do this slowly and deliberately. When you do, you’ll have a small (but ready) audience prepared to engage with the content you’ve created. Now start to share a little and see where it takes you, and tweak accordingly.

Pick one medium and dig in. Don’t spread yourself too thin. Following any other process is putting the cart before the horse. 

Blog content strategy and social media strategy is somewhat different for startup founders, but the core principles are similar.

Straightforward Content & Social Media Strategy for Startup Founders

How you approach content strategy as a startup founder depends where your startup is in its journey. How you spend time is tied directly to your daily responsibilities, and time to be the executor versus the delegator.

Startup content strategy should align with one of three phases:

1.         Fledgling

2.         Emerging

3.         Mature

Let’s take a quick look at how strategy changes for each phase.

Fledgling Startups

A fledgling startup is bootstrapping, or maybe has raised an initial seed round of funding, but doesn’t have a full-time employee focused on content creation. There’s a time crunch here for the founder, and they likely only have 30 minutes to an hour a day to focus on content.

A goal of one blog post a week is reasonable for a fledgling startup. Two hundred words a day should be the goal for a 1,000-word piece. That’s doable.

The 120-day blog content strategy outlined above for solopreneurs holds plenty of weight here as well. If the startup founder can follow a similar process by creating content themselves – or bringing a freelancer into the mix – the effort can have a similar effect on growth.

Suppose the founder lands a guest blog here and there, that effort that’s added to the mix. Guest posts aren’t typically tied to hard deadlines – allowing the work to get done when there’s time – but also have a substantial impact on the authority of your voice and the traffic base you can build.

Emerging Startups

In an emerging startup – one that has some consistent monthly revenue, a handful of full-time employees, and has maybe raised a Series A or B funding round – things are a little different.

The founder has a budget available to acquire content from freelancers, or maybe even contract with a freelancer to create content based on a monthly quota for a set price. In this case, the founder switches from the executor to strategist, feeding the freelancer the articles they would like written on deadlines, and are otherwise hands-off.

Even though delegation is the strategy, the expectations for freelancers must be set in stone and crystal clear for everyone involved. It’s advisable to have freelancers sign a contract that clearly outlines expectations, deadlines, deliverables, and the project’s length. This contract eliminates room for interpretation, which could stand in the way of productivity and a mutually-beneficial relationship.

Suppose the results of this delegation and content creation are strong enough. In that case, the founder may potentially consider bringing on their first full-time content hire and start to flirt with the thought of getting someone on board to manage social media on a part or full-time basis.

But that can come later; it shouldn’t be a priority until blog content has catalyzed a consistent traffic flow to your website.

Mature Startups

Mature startups are humming along as all systems go. The founder is now somewhat removed – if not removed – from the content creation process. An Editor or Content Manager manages the content process with limited strategic input from the founder (unless things start going sideways). A full-time Social Media Manager is executing a social media strategy and may have another team member (an assistant or intern) that assists.

Content is acting as a full-fledged business engine, driving down customer acquisition and lead generation costs, and relieving many of the headaches founders experience with this early on.

As the startup moves from fledgling to mature, a founder should have increasingly less interaction with content. To get there, though, requires them to get their hands dirty and do some creation early.

Startups reach this level of maturity after several years of making content a priority. It doesn’t and will not happen overnight. It takes consistency, constant tweaking, and dedication to making content a core part of your marketing efforts.

Content creation is a commitment for solopreneurs and startup founders. The scope and nature of that commitment changes in time, but the initial steadfastness can drive huge dividends down the road.

If you have 30 minutes a day, you can spark your content program to become this business engine.

And, it’s more straightforward than it seems.

The post A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders appeared first on Scoop.it Blog.

A Simple Content Strategy Plan for Solopreneurs and Startup Founders published first on https://wabusinessapi.tumblr.com/

[thesportssoundoff]

“If you’re reading this, you’re going to watch this show anyways” A preview for the UFC’s return to Australia

Joey 

November 12th, 2017

Oh boy. Well it's not always going to be loaded, is it? The UFC came into this show basically with two fights to build around which in the modern era is really all you need. If fans only care about the main event and the co-main event then sure! All you need is two fights, am I right? The problem, as if often times the case, is that these things fall apart easier than a Jenga tower. Mark Hunt was pulled due to concerns about his mental health and in his place came Fabricio Werdum. That's a more interesting fight FOR me but for Aussie fans, I'm willing to bet they were 1,000,000 times more interested in Hunt/Tybura than Werdum/Tybura. No big deal because the co-main event was pretty solid am I right? Well then Joanne Calderwood pulls out and our co-main is Bec Rawlings vs Jessie Rose Clark. Even though I believe Jessy Rose-Clark is UFC caliber (she's got that Val Letourneau record where she fought a lot of badasses early in her career), that's still not a co-main event caliber fight. Beyond that you have fights ranging in quality from decent action fights to Australian filler to "look we need at least 10 fights!" type stuff. It's really no different from last year's November Australia card which was ALSO ruined by injury. Sorry Aussies!

Fights: 13

Debuts: 4 (Shane Young, Nadia Kassem, Jessy Rose- Clark, Tai Tuivasa)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations:  4 (Mark Hunt OUT, Fabricio Werdum IN vs Marcin Tybura/Joanna Calderwood OUT, Jessy Rose-Clark IN vs Bec Rawlings/Jeremy Kennedy OUT, Shane Young IN vs Alexander Volkanovski/Jesse Taylor OUT, Tim Means IN vs Belal Muhammad)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC): 6 (Fabricio Werdum, Marcin Tybura, Jake Matthews, Dan Kelly, Will Brooks, Anthony Hamilton)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  5 (Will Brooks, Jake Matthews, Bec Rawlings, Anthony Hamilton, Eric Shelton)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:  3 (Belal Muhammad, Marcin Tybura, Alexander Volkanovski)

Stat Monitor for 2017:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 34-29)- Shane Young, Nadia Kassem, Jessy Rose- Clark, Tai Tuivasa, Adam Wieczrowek

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 20-31-1)- Fabricio Werdum, Shane Young, Jessy Rose-Clark, Tim Means

Second Fight (Current number: 24-35)- Ashkan Mokhtarian, Frank Camacho, Rashad Coultier

Cage Corrosion (18-11-1)- Alex Chambers, Bec Rawlings

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- Perhaps NO single relationship in the UFC is as tortured as the relationship between Dana White and Fabricio Werdum. Werdum was the guy who was supposed to lose to "the guy" but he's just kept winning and winning and winning and so on so forth. I wonder if Dana grew to like Werdum due to the fact that he's well spoken (more on that later) and ultra reliable to make it to fight night. They gave Werdum main events in Brazil, they hired him to be their lead Spanish color commentator, had a reality show with he and Cain etc etc. At the same time it feels like the two never really ever liked one another with Dana on two-three separate occasions giving Werdum the "That's nice but you should've finished the fight" speech to Werdum's Reebok comments which got him yanked off commentary duties. They built a stadium show around the legends of Brazil and Werdum was the one guy who came up short in humiliating fashion. Werdum's use of "maricon" is the sort of thing that is simply unacceptable for a major org.  There are TWO major instances of Werdum being selective about his next fight (He turned down Stipe Miocic in a short notice fight and turned down Overeem similarly last year). Beyond all that though, Werdum's still a quality capable HW which the UFC needs. He's a proud Brazilian who can headline events which the UFC are in short supply of. What's more is dude stays busy. Last year he fought in May (after bowing out in February), September and was scheduled to fight in December.  This year he's fought in July, October and now a month later in November. Dude STAYS active and that matters in today's UFC. They sort of need one another---and that's a pretty good way to describe this pairing at this point.

2- I wonder if Marcin Tybura is going to be a guy who is as valuable as a pseudo Russian (M-1 ties) than he will be as a Polish born HW.

3- I wonder if the move to 170 lbs is the equivalent of do or die for Jake Matthews. The Aussie is very young, talnted and he came into the UFC with a bevy of hype as potentially the BIG star from Australia. It has been an uneven ride thus far for Jake Matthews affter two submission wins over limited opposition. A loss to James Vick followed and since then? It's been uneven. He looked FANTASTIC vs Johnny Case but against Akhbar Arreola, Kevin Lee and Andrew Holbrook he just hasn't looked the same. He's powerful but when he's met by somebody who isn't going to be bullied, Matthews wilts. His striking has long been a problem and I don't think it's gotten any better recently. He has this propensity to duck and flail for a takedown when hurt which cost him vs Kevin Lee and James Vick. He's moving up in weight which might be a better move since perhaps cutting too much weight for his muscular frame could be a problem. Bojan Velickovic is a big burly welterweight who hits hard but has a propensity to getting taken down. It's fair matchmaking; pitting strength vs weakness for both fighters.

4- Jessy Rose-Clark has a 7-4 record which on paper makes you think she's probably not going to be something of another. I won't begrudge anybody for feeling that way BUT Pannie Kianzad was a top regional prospect when they faced off. She gave some problems to Sarah Kaufman and Pam Sorenson in decision losses and has wins over some undefeated prospects like Janay Harding. Her last time out she beat Carina Damm on like a week's notice which is a no joke type of win. I don't know if she'll beat Bec Rawlings BUT I think some people are going to be surprised.

5- No matter the country, Tim Means vs Belal Muhammad is a pretty solid fight. Means has a well earned reputation as a poor man's Matt Brown with his love of knees and elbows in all different types of set ups.  Means has a well known reputation as a kill or be killed type of fighter but he showcased some restraint and poise in his last fight. On the other hand, Belal Muhammad has been a bit TOO poised in his more recent days. His offensive output tends to wane and he's gone away from some of the weapons which made him a promising prospect. That said, he's still tremendously gifted and both he and Means could create for some magic.

6- I think it speaks to the decline of Will Brooks that he's probably the best fighter on this card but he's sandwiched on the FS1 prelims between Ryan Benoit/Askhan Mokhtarian and Adam Wierowczek/Anthony Hamilton. Brooks' losses have been frustrating as he got outathlete'd vs Charles Oliveira and his fight vs Alex "Cowboy" Oliveira was a catchweight after Cowboy just showed up all kinds of out of shape. He SHOULD be able to run right through Nik Lentz but Brooks seems so hit or miss these days that you simply can't bet on anything anymore.

7- Reminder that Ryan Benoit iced Sergio Pettis and gave Brandon Moreno trouble in a close loss. The problem is that in a sea of about 10 flyweights resting outside the top 5 (Mighty Mouse, Benavidez, Cejudo, Pettis and Formiga), you have a bunch of guys just not fighting frequently enough or just fighting in nowhere's land on the card.

8- Dan Kelly vs Elias Thorodorou is your smoke break. Adjust your schedule accordingly. Two similar like minded fighters except one is 58 years old.

9- I'm glad to see Eric Shelton getting a third chance after two tough split decision losses vs established competition. There's nothing wrong with facing Alejandre Pantoja and Jarred Brooks and walking out with split decision losses. Jenel Lausa is a step backwards in reputation BUT his talent level can challenge Shelton.

10- I now I mention this all the time but I'm always happy when multiple flyweight fights are on the same card. I want this division to survive and thrive.

11- I don't know if Tai Tuivasa is going to be any good as a fighter but any under 25 year old heavyweight has my attention immediately.

12- It's not gonna win any beauty contests but Damien Brown vs Fran Camacho is a lock to be one of the wildest wackiest fights of the night. Slopfest of all slopfests right here, man.

Must Win

1- Tai Tuivasa

The UFC is bound to go to Australia at least once a year if not more so. Mark Hunt will be out of this organization sooner rather than later. A new Australian monster HW would almost immediately slot in #3 behind Robert Whittaker and Meagan Anderson as potential Australian drawing cards. Tuivasa could have a long time future in the UFC if he's even MODERATELY decent.

2- Jake Matthews

The clock is ticking on WHAT Jake Matthews is going to be in the UFC. What was a promising debut has slowly eroded into becoming just another guy in a crowded 155 to 185 lb universe. He's changing weight classes and getting a truly dangerous opponent in Bojan Velickovic. This could be a really interesting challenge for him.

3- Marcin Tybura

Until he decides not to, Fabricio Werdum will be in the UFC. He's too valuable. Now as it pertains to Tybura, this is the highest profile fight of his career. This isn't slumming it up on a UFC prelim slate, this is headlining in a much tougher fight than his original assignment. A win here and he becomes a major player in a division seeking younger big bodied dudes to take up spots.  

You Should Watch These Fights

(Cuz ain't nothin' here must see)

1- Fabricio Werdum vs Marcin Tybura

2- Jake Matthews vs Bojan Velickovic

3- Rashad Coultier vs Tai Tuivasa

4- Ryan Benoit vs Askhan Mokhtari

5- Damien Brown vs Frank Camacho

[carrieautumn-blog1]

Challenge Rules: https://carrieautumn.tumblr.com/post/160301709300/want-practice-writing-have-a-20-sided-die-then

Day Fourteen Word Count 14: 1800 Prompt 18: A phantom touch on a rainy day

They walked side by side, under different umbrellas. They waited at the crosswalk long enough for Rosy to build her courage. She peered from beneath her umbrella to see the side of his face, staring down at his phone. He was wearing the same black bag were once a book had fallen out and brought him into the world of Rosy’s attention.

It was an old story and she had never met a single person who had heard of it. The writing style was long-winded and she doubted many copies still existed because she couldn’t find a trace of it online. She admitted it also dragged in places and while not the best story ever written it was her favorite. She had read it a number of times and still found herself dreaming of it’s violet cities and singing ships, and had even had nightmares of the Dark Tree God who had come to blight the world. Secretly she imagined what it would be like if someone adapted the story to a more modernized take. Sometimes she imagined it would be her, even though she had no writing skills of her own.

When The Crescent of Andernoth had flopped onto the sidewalk before Rosy she had recognized it immediately. “Wait!” She had called to the man who was walking briskly around the corner. She rushed to catch up to him, meaning to find a way to express what it meant to her to have crossed paths with someone who had read this book. “Oh, thanks.” The man had said quickly taking the book and continuing on to wherever his destination was meant to be, before Rosy had had a chance to utter a word. “You’re welcome.” She deflated expecting never to see the man again.

Despite her reasonable expectations, Rosy remained on the look out every time she walked that street, though she told herself otherwise. Now that she was aware of him, she was surprised to find they shared a very common route together. On her way home from work she would see him leaving the bank building around the same time every weekday.  Like most anxious people Rosy seemed to specialize in self doubt and spent all her waking hours distracted with how things could go wrong or inwardly criticizing all her motives and choices. She was a one woman play acting out all the parts at once and none of the characters liked each other. After a week of mentally battling herself into submission, she finally came to a decision. She came to the obvious conclusion that if she was going to approach him, it had to be sooner rather than later. Another week spent anxiously working and reworking what she would say, and questioning if the whole thing was worth it, passed her by and another week promised to pass the same way.

“No.” She told herself in the mirror, she would talk to him today. She spent extra time putting on her most presentable face and attire, telling herself she couldn’t let this chance to escape her. If she waited any longer it would become weird to address him, she steeled her resolve even as she opened her apartment door to see that it was raining. Picturing the sounds of rain drowning out her words or the rush to escape heavy winds keeping them at odds with conversing, she almost managed to talk herself out of it. “No, today.” She reaffirmed, picturing a cringey version of herself that let this thing perpetuate itself on and on, ‘Oh hello, remember me? I picked up your book three years ago. I’m not crazy at all.’ That was the one outcome she could not let happen.

Now her chance had come again, her heart thump in time with the ticking of the crosswalk display. Tentatively she reached up to tap his shoulder, her fingertips brushing his sleeve, he looked up and began walking and she pulled her hand back. He began to make his way across the street with the crowd, while she remained hand clutched under her chin. Was that it? Was that all she had in her? She returned home with a secret shame.

Parker looked back feeling the ghost of fingers touch his shoulder, even with his superior height he couldn’t see over the crowd to anyone who had been trying to get his attention. He shrugged making his way home but the imprint of the touch remained with him. The sensation faded away into his dreams but he was reminded of it every time it rained.

Every Friday Parker enjoyed perusing the old book store down the block from his apartment. The old books reminded him of his grandfather who had raised him when his mother left. He had had a large library filled with books of every subject, his grandfather had loved to read and did not discriminate. Parker had never shared his love of reading, being a an active boy and preferring movies to paper fiction. His grandfather had always encouraged him to read but never pressured him. Secretly Parker felt envious of him, his quiet smile while reading always made him feel like he was missing out on some secret. When his grandfather passed Parker hadn’t been able to keep more than a box full of his books. Each one taken away was a hole in his heart.

Two years after his death Parker had began to wonder about his old grandfather’s favorite hobby. Perhaps it just made him feel closer but Parker found himself unable to stop once he began. He wasn’t any pickier than his grandfather, though he did tend to stick to fiction, but he felt drawn to older looking books. If a book looked used he could picture someone owning it and maybe that person could have been his grandfather. He often wished he had made a list of all the books he had had in his library so he could rebuild it in his memory. Maybe doing so would have restored some purpose to his weekly wanderings.

One week he was picking through the old stacks, taking one off the shelf to find a face staring intently at him. A young woman who quickly apologized for startlingly him, “Sorry, I just wanted to talk.” She quickly came around the shelf but didn’t say anything at first.

“My name’s Rosy and one time you dropped a book and I picked it up for you. It was a couple weeks ago you might not remember.”

“Oh.” He did vaguely remember.

“I know this seems weird, it’s just no one knows that book and it’s my favorite. That book helped me through a few summers, you could say.” Her tone fluctuated and trailed and her eyes darted between his face and the floor. “Anyway I just saw you here and thought I should say hey, or something.” She made to leave and Parker had been tempted to let her but instead called out to her.

“What book was it?” She turned quickly and hesitated again before speaking.

“The Crescent of Andernoth, it’s really old. It’s about these people called the Summer People and this ancient evil from another world.”

“I remember. It was kind of hard to read, I skipped over a lot.” She lit up and he realized her eyes were really bright for being so brown.

“It is, but I still really like the story. The part where the peasant girl stands up to the Dark Tree and uses her lover’s blood to trap him in her own body was so cool. I always thought the author could have wrote another book just about her.”

“Oh yeah, I do remember that, the ending was kind of open ended. Did the author write anything after?”

“I don’t know, I’ve tried looking them up and I’ve never had any luck. My dad said the book may have been written locally. It is kind of old, but I think that’s fun. Like a piece of time or history, something like that.”

“Yeah I could see that.” Parker nodded and then a voice came over the intercom.

“Excuse me Pick-A-Book shoppers we’ll be closing in 10 minutes. Please make your final selections and make your way to the front and thank you for making us your pick today.” He watched her face fall as the announcement came to a close.

“Guess they’re closing.” She said.

“Yeah.”

“I guess I’ll see you around.” She said but remained standing.

“Yeah, I’m here on Fridays if you ever want to say hi.” Her eyes lit up again.

“Okay.Bye.” She turned to leave, rushing off without buying a thing.

Rosy felt like she was glowing under the street light halos. It was a strange giddiness she couldn’t recall ever feeling before and she chased it all the way home. Sinking into her bed that night she saw the book by her bedside and said a silent thank you. A loneliness she hadn’t known she was carrying felt a little lighter. Part of her told her it was only one conversation and nothing to get excited over, but that night she turned it off with the light switch.

The next Friday she had tried to replicate their previous meeting. Showing up at a similar time but either he hadn’t come that day or she had missed him. During the week she intentionally left work later to avoid running into him, in case it seemed like she had followed him until she had talked to him at the bookstore. That might have been what had happened but she wasn’t about to advertise it. The next Friday she made sure to come early and spent a good hour between the shelves, jumping every time the door bell jingled. Right when she was about to give up she saw him enter. She moved around the side of the bookshelf to hopefully make herself less obvious. Peeking around the shelf as nonchalantly as she could.

“Hello.” He said close to her ear. She jumped feeling her face burn at what she had  so clearly been doing.

“Hi.” She said.

“You came back.”

“Yeah. I needed some new reading material anyway. That isn’t partof the unread pile sitting next to my bed.” She said stiffly but when he laughed she smiled.

“Books are kind of like dumplings, there’s always room for one more.”

“And never feels like enough. Even if you’re full and the waitress is giving you dirty looks.” Another laugh she felt her shoulders loosen. “You never told me your name.”

“Oh it’s Parker. Is it rude for me to ask for your name again?” He admitted with a sheepish face.

“It’s Rosy. And it’s completely fine.”