#The day I agreed to this job I also accepted that from that day forward those are MY KIDS during the school day

[idrathernot]

*

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

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[always-just-red]

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.  

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Rafayel tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”  

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.  

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

[velnoni]

100% down with demi Ford and interested in relationship headcanons!

Ford x Reader Relationship Headcanons

I'm so happy for this ask, I haven't received any in ages. Also thank you for agreeing, here ya go! This is gonna be a long one.

He's a very busy fella, catching up on old and creating new experiments after saving the world with his family. Would like to say you guys met as acquaintances when he picks up a job at the local college in Gravity Falls. He doesn't like freeloading off of Stan even though it was originally his home.

Being real here, the last thing on his mind is a relationship, let alone a romantic one. It's not that he's against one, but there is so much he missed out on after being trapped in portal.

With the kids returning home, Ford & Stan trying to fix their relationship, it'll dawn upon him that while Gravity Falls feels like home, it doesn't at the same time. Just like when he first arrived, he'll feel isolated and lonely, a figment of the past.

Having someone to speak to, even a work buddy, would be a healthy step for his to explore relationships outside the family. You two having the same lunch breaks and holding up small conversations help ease away the trepidation in his stomach. He's very apprehensive towards you at first but if you show interest in his work, he'll open up a bit.

Will ask you for help with modern technology. Some of his students gripe with him for not using his email. He appreciates your help and hopes not to be a burden. You're impressed by his use of vocabulary and learn new words every week.

Goes without saying, but he has mountains of trust issues. Trouble sleeping, eating, etc can affect his mood, so sometimes you might have pity on him and bring him something sweet to drink/munch on. A silent gesture, and at first, he wonders what your game is. "Can't help a friend?" After that ensues the endless nights of wondering if you two truly are friends, if this is something worth investing in. He never excelled in the social department as much as he hated to admit it and will go to Stan about it. Might even ask the kids on the next face time for advice.

He's nervous at the idea of having a friend, the last time he was used and it nearly cost the life of humanity. Never again. Stan suggested the first step to hanging out outside work is to ask you to go drinking. Ford was pessimistic at first but Stan's logic didn't sound too bad (for once) and after he asks you and you accept it became the occasional thing to go drinking at a pub where the beer is bad and finger food was edible enough.

He finds himself looking forward to hanging with you outside work, the two of you indulging your day to day and past stories. You could always tell he was hiding something or perhaps hesitant about the nature of his past...but eventually he shows you the abnormalities of Gravity Falls. At first you were bewildered at the reality, but as time passed you would indulge with Ford in his studies. Sometimes planning hikes on the weekend or setting up traps to catch gnomes and find out what's under their hat. He wasn't keen on the idea of taking you to more dangerous expeditions.

You enjoyed watching old series with him. According to Ford he had a lot of media to catch up on, sometimes Stan would keep you two company. Was upset to find out Micheal Jackson passed away.

Of course you'll meet Stan, who takes to shooting his horrible jokes at you in attempts to make you laugh. It works and Ford questions your sanity. The dynamic between you three is refreshing.

He was visiting your home with a gift of chocolate and his favorite book of the month, you couldn't help but wonder what the occasion was. When Ford tells you about his plans to sail with his brother over lost time, he bit his lip. "The way you talk about Stan is like you haven't see him in forever." That elected silence from him before Ford sighs. "It's a long story." You assure him you have all the time in world. And that's when he tells you everything. There were moments of long silence when certain things became too rough to speak on but you had patience.

In the end, the two of you sat in your living room, Ford with a solemn expression on his face and his eyes distant. As you digested all the info you were given you asked if you could hug him. He was surprised but consented. He didn't realize how much he needed it.

"Do you miss him?" Ford looks at you and then at the TV. It was a long time before he answered. "I miss the person I thought he was. I thought he was my friend." You know, you know that very well and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll never let someone take advantage of me again." You were proud of him.

Funds from his job at the college and the Mystery Shack helped in the creation of the Stan O' War II. It was bittersweet seeing Ford and his brother off, asking him to write to you when he could. He promised and to that you smiled. He found himself fond of that smile. Not perfect, not happy or sad, but keen on the acceptance of reality.

You get to see his expression when you gift both Stanley and him echo flowers. You explained you did your own research and thought these as perfect gifts. These flowers could repeat any sound around them and they glowed a beautiful shade of cyan blue at night.

It wasn't often Ford wore his emotions on his sleeve but he couldn't help but become teary eyed much like his brother who was feigning dust in his eyes. It had been so long since anyone was so...nice to him. He felt like he didn't deserve it sometimes.

You two become pen pals as he and Stan sail the world and he won't consider romantic feelings unless Stan asks him one day.

If you two invest in a romantic relationship it would be after they return from sailing the world and it would be extremely slow. But you're both willing.

That's the end of this headcanon! If you want more of a romantic take, asks are always open! Reblogs & likes are always appreciated!

[irlactualhuman]

Lea Shepherd,

It has come to the attention of the HR department that you have been using your corporate email to both offer and request sexual favors from several of your coworkers on company time, and in a seemingly official capacity. This is a clear violation of company policy regarding sexual conduct in the office, on official channels, and during work hours. Our policy clearly states that benefits not considered "earned rewards", such as target bonuses, cannot be distributed to employees evenly, including so-called "social benefits".

To comply with policy, we ask that you either cease all sexual activity described herein immediately, or agree to both offer and receive such sexual services from all employees equally. The entire HR team would strongly urge you to choose the latter option, as it will not only go a long way to undoing the sense of unfairness this conduct has instilled in many employees, but will also likely improve overall corporate moral, including for us here in HR.

If you do choose the latter option, as we most certainly hope you will, HR may be required to change the designation and official duties of your employment, as it is likely this even distribution of activity will severely limit your capacity to carry out your existing work. Management has, however, already given the green light on this, as they are all eager for your well documented talents to become more widely available.

Please respond to this email with your selection by noon this coming Monday, so HR and Management can move forward and take any necessary adjustments to ensure your continued success with us.

Thank you for your time and for that thing you did the other day in the break room,

Laika Loveless HR Manager

Laika Loveless,

After due consideration, I will conditionally accept this new position within the company that Management has seen fit to develop for me. My stipulations are outlined as follows:

Pay increase commensurate to my increase in duties. We can scarcely say that I was compensated fairly for my admittedly assumed duties up to this point, but we can use them as a spring board. Based on my new adjusted workload intake, I would expect no less than a 130% increased salary yearly.

As I will be moving to a more physically intensive position within the company, this must be non-exempt.

I will require at minimum two PA's under my direct supervision. I do not have any singular or outstanding requests as to their work history or training beyond the ability to administer good and frequent massages.

Finally. I want Jessica's office. The nice one on the 3rd floor with the bay window. If you'll circle back to me on this in person, Ms. Loveless, I can review with you some additional information I may have pertinent to this request.

I am certain we can come to an understanding on all further points related to job function, the filing of appointments, and commission. The Christmas party will be sublime, this year.

I am thrilled to be helming this new venture on behalf of the company. It is as my father always told me, "get on your knees, girl!" He was right, and I am sincerely flattered to have my accomplishments so keenly realized by my superiors.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

- Lea Shepherd

Title Pending (Might I suggest Morale Officer?)

PS: GIRL I TOLD YOU WE GONNA MAKE THIS HAPPEN JESSICA IS FCKIN THROUGH see you at drinks at Marty's honey. kisses!

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Spotlight (lee know) ‗ ❍

Pairing : Lee Know x f reader

Summary : An upcoming work event stresses you out of your mind. But someone's there to help you relieve some of that stress, and who would've thought that it would be that one annoying co-worker?

Genre/ Warnings : it's a light co-workers enemies to lovers thing, talk about stage fright, mention of anxiety and bad breakup, talk of being chated on, some insecurity (brief and not specific mention), smut with plot (ONLY 18+), protected sex (UNBELIEVABLE?), soft dom minho of you squint, the whole this is a bit angsty, ending is open (is it tho?)

Word count : 10k (oh brother)

A/n : Has it ever happened to you to be SOO pent up and stressed that you could punch a wall and cry at the same time? Yeah, exactly. How about we fuck instead! Lmao, enjoy

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It all started with that damned research plan. 'Why the fuck did I even agree to that?', that's pretty much the same question that's been going through your mind for the past week.

Your boss held a meeting some time ago and asked your unit to bring up some ideas for an upcoming convention that will be held a few hours from your city. Several major companies in your field would be presenting their own projects to some big names in the industry plus some extremely wealthy people, that actually put their money into good causes.

So you did what you had to, took a couple of days to research and came up with an idea. You knew it was a good concept, and that you were good at your job. You were pretty confident. However, you were part of a team. A small one, but still, you were not in charge of anything in reality.

Which is why you nearly had a heart attack when during the meeting your boss actually decided on the spot to create a whole concept based on your idea. With you in charge.

Panic flooded your mind as you tried to reason with him, going from 'I can't do it' to 'We're a team', literally anything to try and make him change his mind. Even downplaying yourself, for how much it hurt your ego. Just because you have great ideas doesn't mean you want to have the literal spotlight in a livestreamed work convention!

"This unit has been doing a good job for the past months, while still being experimental. I think you deserve it. But I need you to prove yourselves this time, too. So what do you say, y/n?"

And with that, he got you. Why lie. Not only because you desperately wanted to get ahead in the company, but also because you knew for a fact that the rest of the team wanted it as bad as you did.

Were you really going to be the villain and turn down such an occasion for everyone, just because of your own overthinking? So, in the end, as unsure as you were, you still accepted.

And you couldn't lie, the prospect of getting recognition and a better working position fueled your motivation. You would've still been sick 10 minutes before the event, you were sure. 'But that will come later', you tried to convince yourself.

Fast forward to two weeks later, that's how you found yourself stuck to the office computer at 8 pm. On a Friday night. In your twenties. All the documents, research, presentation, audio, script…literally everything was ready and finalized.

You were pretty sure that if you asked your co-workers to check it one more time...you would've had the whole computer thrown at you. So you did it yourself, of course. Again and again.

You were the one who would have had to go up on a stage and explain it all, weren't you? You were so worried that your stage fright would make you somehow forget it all and even managed to fuck up reading from the script.

The fourth, or maybe fifth, coffee of the day being the only thing keeping you going. Aside, maybe, from the adrenaline. You were tired, yes. You should be going home, checking that your suitcase was properly packed and your tickets ready for your morning flight. Yet your anxious and perfectionist mind just wouldn't let you relax.

"Aren't you going home?" a voice interrupted your flow of thoughts, making you roll your eyes. You didn't even have to look to recognize that voice.

"No. But you should." you responded, with annoyance in your voice.

Lee Minho. Your 'second in command', as per your boss words. You have never quite spoken, before the past two weeks. Which sounds incredibly unrealistic, being in the same small work unit and all, but it was true.

Your team was an efficient one, but definitely not a tight one. All seven of you were literally picked out from different bigger divisions in the company, some even from other office buildings.

Straight away you were told that your team was going to be an experiment. This was roughly ten months ago, which wasn't much, but for a bunch of people who were essentially stuck in a limbo, uncertain of where they'll end up the followung year, was more than enough.

Being honest, you weren't particularly eager to get close to any of them. Whether it was an off-vibe or just you being kinda closed off and shy, you weren't sure. Regardless, you kept work life and personal life well separated.

Lee Minho, for example, was someone who you could never quite read. You may not have been very social, but you were observant. You knew that he was good at his job, often getting extra meetings and praise from higher ups. He was also quite standoffish, kinda like you. You did see him a few times talking with some other people at the company's cafe. But you didn't know them.

Then, suddenly this presentation thing happened, and just like a bunch of new class mates, the team was forced to collaborate. And boy, did you learn to know him quickly.

Your guess that he was good at his job was correct, but he was also extremely cocky while doing it. Your boss put you in charge, and yet it seemed that his life mission was to contradict and question you in almost everything. And the most infuriating thing was that he had a point, each time.

You lowkey hated him, because he would just add fuel to the fire. More details on a topic, some script corrections, visual corrections to pictures and illustrations. He seemed to be wanting to do stuff his way. But so were you, so it was kind of a silent war between you two. During one of the earlier briefs, you even mentioned it to your boss, and he just said to compromise. Easier said than done for two stubborn, competitive, people.

"The janitor will come soon to kick you out." he insisted, as he took his long suede coat from the hanger.

"Then I'll tell him to give me a few more minutes." you replied, squeezing your eyes for a moment, desperately trying to moisten them a little after spending so many hours in front of the computer screen.

"You said that forty minutes ago. Everyone else has already left like, two hours ago." his voice didn't have any particular feeling to it, but the fact that he was so insistent made you snap.

"Listen, Minho" you started, turning your head back towards him, "Whatever this is, quit it. I don't need an assistant, nor someone to remind me of the office's rules and I certainly don't need your concern."

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes, an annoyed smirk on his sharp features as he crossed his arms and leaned back on the wall.

"And I'm not claiming to be any of those. Are you forgetting that you're the head of the team and it's your job to make a decent presentation for all of us, right" he responded, the scolding tone suddenly making you feel uncomfortably small. He was right, of course you knew it.

You stood up, the desk chair rolling slightly behind you.

"Of course I fucking know-" your venomous response was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the big glass window of the office.

You and Minho both turned your heads and saw the two janitors staring at you. The older man who knocked looked quite annoyed and like he didn't give a single fuck about intruding, but the younger one behind him had his eyebrows raised and looked to be hiding an amused smile, clearly enjoying the show.

"I'm sorry miss y/l/n, we can't wait any longer to close up the floor. It's the company rules." he said, absolutely not meaning the 'sorry' in the slightest. And you couldn't blame him, really. You wouldn't either.

So you took a deep breath, faked a polite smile and nodded.

"Yes, I understand. I'll just pack my stuff and be out in a couple of minutes. Promise." he just grumbled a 'sure' while the younger one behind him gave you a tight lipped smile in embarrassment, then walked off.

You side eyed Minho as you turned back to your station to pack up your stuff and turn off the computer. Making sure to send yourself a copy of the slide presentation and the speech script. Well, another copy of the previous five files, anyway. Can never be sure enough!

'Don't you dare say anything.' you warn.

'Wasn't going to.' he replied, 'That was embarrassing enough already' you picked up on the humor in his voice, but it didn't make you smile in the slightest. You just wanted to get rid of him and go home to stress yourself until tomorrow, in peace. Maybe with a drink or two.

You noticed him waiting for you, for some reason, but you decided to ignore him and walk out of the office without sparing him a glance. He quietly followed ad you approached the elevator, and then pushed the button for the first floor before you could.

You stood there in silence, annoyingly aware of his presence not even a meter behind you.

"Why do you hate me?" Minho spoke with a curious, yet careful tone. His question took you by surprise, and also embarrassed you a bit. Did you actually even hate him? That seemed like a strong word for whatever you had going on.

"I don't 'hate' you." you answered, making the word, "You're just extremely annoying." he snorted a laugh.

"Well, at least you're honest." the irony in voice didn't escape you, and you instantly felt... quite bad? Qauite honestly you didn't know how to reply, so you shut up instead.

The elevator doors finally opened at the first floor, which was already eerily quiet and dark. Except for two security people that waved both of you off as you exited the building.

"Well, y/n, get home safely. I'll see-" he started to talk while taking a step back, but you stopped him, gesturing with your hand.

"Wait, Minho" he stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised. Your eyes wandered on the street, watching the cars pass by, as you rubbed your clothed shoulder, both from the cold and the nervousness.

"I'm sorry. I don't actually have a personal problem with you. And even if I did, my behaviour was unprofessional and rude. So I apologize." you created a small puff of hot air as you talked.

"Y/n-" you interrupted him yet again, not on purpose, but you kept going, in hopes of finishing off that awkward interaction.

"Also, I'm not your boss or anything, but I wanted to tell you that you did a good job. And, while it does cost a small piece of my ego to admit it, you gave some very good inputs. So, thank you." you cleared your throat a bit, still not looking back at him, even though you could feel his gaze on you.

Minho bit back a smile, and was about to answer, thinking you were finished, but suddenly the mood shifted and your voice started to tremble. His smile dropping fast and a confused expression taking place as he listened.

"I'm not usually like this, I-I...' you bit your lip, trying to regain composure, 'It's been a shitty period lately and this was kind of the last straw you know? I fucking hate speaking in public, goddamn it." a bitter and shaky laugh left your lips, your eyes becoming shiny.

You must've been out of your mind, you thought. How did you go from being a bitch then opening up and crying in the span of ten minutes? With Lee Minho of all people?

You were just about to wrap the conversation up and start trying to catch a taxi, but the cherry colored- hair man suddenly started to walk closer. You finally looked up, mainly in confusion, and saw just the shadow of a smile and kind eyes.

"'It's fine, y/n." he paused, "How are you getting home?'

You sniffled, blinking a few times, "I'm gonna catch the first cab that passes from here, I don't live that far but I can't be bothered to walk in the dark right now." he nodded in acknowledgement.

"My car is parked about two minutes from here" he pointed behind you, "If you allow me I'd like to offer you a ride." you stood there for a second, trying to rationalize the fact that your co-worker with whom you had beef until five minutes ago was offering you a ride. So you relied on humor, to lighten up the situations.

"I don't know, are you going to kill me?" he widened his eyes for a second, genuinely looking panicked for a second. He started to wave his hands around awkwardly.

"No, woah-" he spoke, "If you don't feel safe-" your small laugh instantly relaxed him, as he lowered his arms back down and giving you a side eye in the process.

"I'm sorry. But you can't honestly blame me, with everything going on in the world." you justified yourself, starting to walk to the spot he pointed out, "Just so you know, my mom and best friend have my location. Just in case."

"Ah, ah, ah." he faked a laugh as he followed behind you. The light of a grey, seemingly spotless and quite expensive looking, car blinked a couple of times.

Minho opened the passenger seat for you, then circled the car back to the driver's side.

--

The car ride was pretty much silent, and a light but definitely present layer of awkwardness filled the air. He asked for your address, put it on the navigator, then didn't speak again.

You joked about his car looking expensive and he snorted a laugh, nodding. "It did take a couple of years and a promotion to pay off, yes."

Then silence..again.

Thankfully the car ride was quite short, as you anticipated. Only made a couple of minutes longer by the traffic of the people getting off work. Late, like you two, you imagined.

He pulled up in front of your building, parking the car to let you get off.

You truly had no idea what came over you, but nonetheless you blurted out "Do you wanna come up for a drink?"

Minho's mouth went slighly agape, as he was so obviously trying to suppress a smile. His cocky aura making it actually hard to understand if he was about to mock you or seemed pleased.

"Oh?" and that made it so much worse, making you scramble for a response.

"I mean- it's not even nine pm, and tomorrow it's gonna be the end of a jurney of hard work." you justified, "I'm still gonna celebrate by myself, by the way. I was just offering." the last sentence being almost muffled, which actually made it funnier for him. You looked kinda cute.

"You know what, boss number two," your head snapped at those words, along with him turning off the car engine, "I think I may use a drink. I wouldn't have any at my place, anyway." he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile as well. You both got out of the car, and walked to the building's entrance as he locked it witht he distance key.

"And what do you have waiting at home, if not a glass of wine at the end of the day?" you joked as you entered the building. You started to walk up a set of stairs, so he just followed, a few steps behind.

"Three cats?" the humor in his voice actually made you turn your head to read his expression.

"Really?" you smiled. He nodded prudly, still following behind you.

"Oh yes. My pride and joy, if you will." you laughed, finally stopping on the second floor, in front of a white door.

"Wouldn't have made you out to be a cat's man" You unlocked it, turning on the light as you invited the redhead inside. He politely took off his shoes by the entrance, following your example, and bowed his head.

"Well, you don't really know me, if we're being honest."

"True." you nodded, a bit embarassed, "Please, give me your coat. It's warm here, I promise." you smiled. He thanked you, handing you the item.

He looked around while you went in another room. The apartment was definitely a nice one, even if not the largest. It looked cozy and quite artsy, but tastefully so. Lots of CDs, a couple of paintings, a nice tv, a leather couch. The living room had a balcony with a city view, and was connected to an open space kitchen.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. On the couch, at the table. Wherever you want." you came back with a pair of black light tracksuit pants, a nice loose shirt with some graphic design on it, and your hair down.

Minho couldn't help but, casually, notice how good those pants made your ass look. But he cleared his throath and opted for a seat at the table, before his gaze lingered too long.

"Thanks", he sat down comfortably, curiously looking at the kitchen furniture, "You have a really nice place"

You smiled politely, giving him a nod.

"Thank you, Minho. I actually didn't move here too long ago. About five months-ish?", you explained, "Alright, let's get back to business. I have a few things." he tilted his head to listen.

"I have two types of my personal favorite, red wine. Then some whiskey that wasn't even gifted to me to begin with," your tone was slightly off as you said it, but he didn't ask.

"Then I have some tequila, gin and... champagne. Yeah, that's it." he chuckled.

"Well, comparing to mine's, that's a small but respectable collection." he joked, "I'll just have some of that italian wine, thanks" he smiled, amused. You laughed a bit.

"It's all small bottles. I only really drink wine. I also use it for cooking. The rest is for nights with girlfriends. Don't picture me as an alcholic, please" you both laughed at you scrambling to justify yourself.

"If you say so, yn" he teased.

"Oh, c'mon!"

--

You didn't really remeber exactly how you ended up from sharing a glass of wine and cheering to your incoming job presentation, to eating leftovers, then moving to the couch. But you got there.

The difference is that after getting a bit too giggly and a little lightheaded, you both agreed to switch to water. Yeah, that's probably when you also decided to put something in your stomachs.

After all, he would've had to drive back home. And both of you couldn't afford a hangover when you had such an important day ahead and a flight at eight am.

It was now around eleven pm as you sobered up, just hanging out on your cream colored couch.

"So that's how my friend from sixth floor found out boss is cheating. Big time." he concluded, making you rolle your eyes dramatically as you took a sip of water.

"Of course he's fucking cheating on his wife. Of course" he raised a finger, leaning a bit forward.

"It's not only that he's cheating. He's cheating with the chief editor and a bunch of other emplyees too. Lost fucking cause" your mouth opened in shock, gasping.

"Nasty man! I just hope it's a bunch of immoral people and nothing more serious it's going on, at this point." you shook your head as he nodded in agreement.

"I know right? Of course it's mainly hushed office rumors, but at least a couple of those have to be true. My friend's girlfriends says there's eye witnesses." you smirked slightly, humored.

"Scandal" he snorted a laugh at your comment as he ate a piece of cake. A strawberry and whippe cream cake your best friends got you when you got the job.

"What about you," his eyes moved back to you, "Do you have anyone? Aside from your three fur babies, of course." he smirked a bit as he chewed on his bite, taking a couple of seconds to try and read your expression.

"No, no one." he answered, "I was actually married for about a year. Then the stupidity wore off." your eyes actually widened in surprise at his words.

"You were married? For a year? What happened?" your questions were quick and probably quite nosy, so you backtracked, "I'm sorry. If- I mean, if you feel like sharing. Of course."

"It's fine", he shook his head lightly, he moved a bit on the couch to get comfortable, "It sounds crazy but it was years ago. We were eighteen, and stupid. We were together for like, six months, and since she was having trouble with her parents and needed a place to live, I guess that my stupid-in-love mind decided that getting married and renting an apartment was the right call." he explained, not with any particular intonation. Maybe some humor, actually.

"It was an extremely quick decision too. Proposed, one day later we were legally married. But then we quickly understood that marriage wouldn't solve her problems, so while I just questioned myself over and over and scrambled to find work, she went out and cheated."

"Oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, covering your mouth with your hand. He nodded, with an ironic expression.

"Yeah. I actually never found out how long that went on. Hopefully less than our marriage. That'd be embarassing." you instinctively reached out, placing your hand on his knee. You regretted it immediately as soon as your eyes met though, so you retracted it, brushing it off.

"I'm really sorry. That's shitty. I know how it feels." the bitterness in your voice finally made Minho place the small pieces you had intentionally scattered in the conversation that eventing, making him put it together.

"You got cheated on too?" you cleared your throat, sighing slightly.

"Not that I would've imagined the conversation going there tonight but, yes. That's- well that's why I'm living by myself now. You know how it is, messy breakup, lots of tears, and then you move on."

"I'm sorry.", his voice was soft and sincere, "How have you been holding up? You're certainly killing it on the job, though." he smiled at you.

"Even if it makes you nervous." he added. You gave him a small grateful smile, but couldn't help to get a bit sad.

"Thanks. You know, I do love being by myself. The relationship had become stale for a while. I kind of saw it coming. But of course, after two years, it stung." you admitted, "Wasn't particularly kind to my self esteem. Leaving him with my half of rent to pay while being jobless was kind of paybay, not gonna lie." you raised an eyebrow, making him laugh.

"Deserved, honestly." you laughed instinctively a bit too, but your mood was definitevely affected a t least a little now. Minho wanted to comfort you, telling you that he didn't see anything that you should be insecure about. But he stopped himself, feeling like he would've overstepped some boundaries.

"I'm sure you're doing great. Parties with girlfriends, a whole place by yourself, killing it at work. It's gonna be okay." that was the most he allowed himself to say, but judging from the grateful look in your eyes, that was probably enough.

You blinked a couple of times, awkwardly catching yourself getting voulnerable for the second time that evening with a man that until a few hours prior was just a bit less than a stranger.

As you thought that, you actually remembered to take a look at the clock on your wall and saw that it was half past midnight. You got up instantly, slightly startling Minho.

"Shit, look at the hour. I will probably not sleep for a good while, but it may be late for you. With the drive and all. I'm sorry I kept you blabbering for hours." you released a small, nervous laugh as you picked up both of your leftover cake plates.

He nodded slightly, mostly at himself, getting up.

"I don't have very regular sleeping schedules. My cats tell me when it's bed time." he joked, making you smile. "But I think you're right. I definitely sobered up now, don't worry."

You nodded, eyes struggling to stray from his brown, shiny ones. You cleared your throat, catching yourself before you could make things more awkward.

"I'll get your coat, wait a sec" he silently followed your figure as you disappeared again, then, just as you did, he tried to get a grip and walked towards the entrance where he had left his shoes.

He slipped them on, slapping himself slightly on the cheek to get some composure back. Just after that you came back, smoothing out his coat.

"Let me help you" you spoke softly, without really asking. He turned his back to you without speaking, offering you one arm, then the other. He then shrugged his shoulders a bit to fit the coat properly on.

"Thanks" you nodded, acknowledging him silently. You proceeded to open the door, and turn on the stairs light on for him. He turned back to look at you, now just a few steps outside of the apartment.

"Your cheeks turned red.", he teased, "Did you warm up well?"

"Yes" your tone was a bit more serious than his, wondering if his question hid a deeper meaning behind it. Maybe what he was really asking was if you warmed up to him, after all.

He looked down, nodding. He then smiled warmly, looking up back at you.

"Good. Thanks for the drink, it was fun", he stated sincerely, "Make sure to rest well, goodnight yn"

But, as he was about to leave, he felt your hand reaching for his sleeve. He stopped, turning back to look at your hand, then fixing his gaze on you. Your eyes were looking at him so intensely, almost burning into his. He didn't speak. He waited.

"Would it be extremely unprofessional if I asked my co-worker to stay over?" your words were teasing, but your tone as well as your gaze didn't match them. That's what made him hesitate at first.

"Are you sure?"

You retracted your hand, letting go of his sleeve. A hint of insecurity hitting you. But not towards your desire, more towards yourself. Imagine if he said no and rejcted you.

"You can say no" he fully turned to face you, walking closer.

"I didn't say 'no'. I asked if you are sure. Are you?" his tone wasn't harsh at all, but it was serious. It's true, he didn't say no. And you also weren't really sure why, but you were sure you wanted him. So, just in case...

"Yes, I am. We're both free, consenting adults. Doesn't have to mean anything. Letting go some stress, you know." you shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, crossing your arms. Acting way more cocky than you were actually feeling. Truth be told, you were so horny you would've probably crawled if he asked you to.

Minho squinted his eyes a bit, studying your expression. But he saw right though you. He didn't know the extent of your confidence at that moment, but he could see that you wanted him like he wanted you.

"Right" he finally spoke, slowly walking closer and closer, instinctively making you backtrack inside, your eyes fixiated in his as if you were hypnotised.

"Just de-stressing a bit, I guess" he pushed the door shut lightly with his foot before reaching for your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. Taking the hint, you crashed your lips with his.

The kiss didn't start slow, it was right away a messy, passionate one. Minho shrugged out of his coat, never leaving your lips for as much as he could.

"Wait- the coat-" you panted softly, but he shut you up quickly, pulling your even closer by grabbing at your lower back.

"Fuck the coat" he managed to answer, making you laugh faintly. Your lips separated as you stepped back enough to lead him to the bedroom. During the small walk, there was a pause, and neither of you talked.

You reached the bedroom, and slowly as you stood at the edge of the king size bed, you started to undress each other.

Starting from his tie, which was alrady loosened, then his shirt buttons coming undone one by one, then his belt. Minho didn't really move, nor rush you. He just held you by the waist, following closely your hands.

Being so lost in admiring his perfectly soft but muscular body, you kind of forgot that you were still completely covered. Not that you were exactly looking forward to getting naked and vulnerable at that moment in your life, but it was kind of require, as they say.

You stopped just before getting to the zipper of his elegant pants, his boner already forming a tent. You looked up at him, kind of questioning his stillness. But he was already looking at you, eyes lusty but comforting at the same time.

"Do whatever you want." he stated, taking one of your hands and encouraging it towards his pants, "Consider it a personal congratulations gift. Guide me." he continued, then squinted his eyes a bit, getting closer with his face to yours with a small smile.

"Unless you'd like me to?" that one sentence did so much damage to the least bit of self respect you were clinging to...so might as well.

You nodded slowly, you chest going up and down heavily, trembling a bit from the mix of excitement and, well, a bit of shame. The kind that will bring you pleasure though.

And he saw it. Again he saw right through you. Not that in the horny state you were at that moment you would've had much to hide anyway.

Minho chuckled, leaning in right next to your ear, whispering "Good girl", his lips starting to kiss your neck seductively, "Take my pants off for me, mmh?"

A moan escaped your mouth as your hands worked shakily with his zipper, then pushing the fabric down, revealing the expensive brand boxers he was wearing. And the hard on. Couldn't forget about that.

"So good for me. I'm going to undress you too, now. That's okay, right, honey?" his hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for consent, which arrived very quickly after.

"Yes, please" he cooed at that, proceeding to lift up your shirt and get it off you, leaving you in your simple, cotton bra. You didn't exactly dress up expecting this, but well.

"'Please'? You're so cute" he praised, continuing his works by pushing down your tracksuit pants. At that point, as drunk on lust and praise as you were, your insecurity couldn't help but hit as you were becoming aware of Minho's gaze.

That's why when he felt your hands squeeze his sidez a bit and get tense, he stopped, leaning back to check on you.

"What's wrong?" you gulped, throat suddenly feeling a bit dry.

"Nothing, it's- ...Don't stare too much. I don't know if I can handle it." your words were just above a whisper, but it made him a bit sad. He wasn't pitying you, he just felt sorry that your head wasn't allowing you to be as free as you wanted.

He understood. Of course he did. Everyone at least once, at some point, felt insecure about themselves. And while he truly think you shouldn't be, he wouldn't push it. He'd just make sure to make you feel good in the moment, like you deserved.

He brushed it off, shifting the mood to a lighter one. He nodded as he went back to touch your body up and down, his lips back to your neck.

"Alright, but- " he paused, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, squeezing them, eliciting a sigh from you. "On the condition that you'll let me suck on these later" he smirked, winking at you. You blushed even more, huffing out a laugh. Your head was clear again, so you decided to have fun with it.

"But now-" you gave him a little push, making him land on the bed, then straddling him. "There are a few things I want." he smirked, amused.

"Seems like it's gonna be a little of a game after all." he teased making you smile seductively.

"We'll see. Now stay still like a good boy." Minho's hand on got even harder, if possible. at your words. He wasn't used to be a sub at all, but that 'good boy' kinda...intrigued him.

At that point you got off of him, kneeling down beside him. You pinched the hems of his tight boxers and pulled them down, letting his cock sprung free, standing up mid-air from his abs. You pushed the fabric down enough for Minho to discard it, which he did.

He was half up, standing on his elbows, to not miss the view. And what a view.

You had started to stroke his cock slowly, with both hands, doing a sort of up and down gesture mixed with some twisting, that was sending him directly to heaven. But he was way too turned on already, he was afraid that at the minimum touch he would cum, so he regrettably stopped you, and instead switched positions, dragging you under him as he hovered above you.

"I'm sorry, princess, I'm not gonna last if I let you play too much" he explained with a sigh.

"You though...let's see if my sweet girl is ready for me" he continued, with mischief in his voice. His hands invited you gently to part your legs, and you complied easily. Your need to be touched almost unbearable now.

Minho shimmied down on his stomach, directly face level with your, still clothed, pussy. He raised his index, teasing your mound then your slit, which was clearly indicated by the wet patch on the grey cotton panties. You hissed and squirmed, desperate for him to touch you properly.

"Oh wow, look at my sweet girl, looking so wet already." he cooed as he started to kiss the inner of your thigh. "Should we check properly, mh?" all he needed was a desperate yes from you, to quickly act and slip down your legs the panties, discarding them somewhere.

"Oh my godness...look at this sweet, shiny, pussy. So cute. Is it all for me?" he asked cutely. You moaned instinctively and nodded quickly.

"Yes, all for you. Please Minho, I need it" you whined, trying to rub your thighs together for some relief, but his hands promptly kept them open.

"Tsk, tsk, kitten. Now be good for me. I promise I'll give you what you want." and with that he started out giving a fat, tongue flat, lick from your ass, then your pussy, and reaching the clit. The deep moan that exited from you would've almost been embarassing, if only Minho's actions with his tongue didn't distract you again right away.

He had started to kiss right where your whole was messily, occasionally trying to poke in the tip of tongue to try and gather as much of your arousal as possible. You were a whining, moaning mess, but you knew exactly that as soon as he'd actually start giving attention to your clit, you were done for.

Which is exactly what happened a few minutes later. When he was satisfied enough that you were absolutely drenched all over, his mouth and chin included, he moved a bit north, starting right away to skillfully suck and toy with your clit.

The sensation was so intense and you were already so sensitive that the contact made you prop yourself up a bit, but Minho promptly placed one of his strong, veiny hands on your stomach and pushed you back down, which you allowed yourself to go right away. But his hand was still there, so you took the opportunity to intertwine your fingers with his.

"Fuck, oh my God- Minho, please...please" you were incoherent, but he knew very well what you wanted and he was determined to give it to you good. That's when you felt first his index, then index and pointer fingers enter you swiftly. No resistance at all. You were so wet that you barely felt them, until he started to move them just right, stimulating your walls.

The gradually added movements and speed of both his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit had your stomach tightening so quickly, and then you came. You came for like a whole minute, and then some. It was actually crazy how intense and how prolonged minho had managed to make your orgasm. No doubt the best head you've ever recieved.

He gradually slowed down, until only his fingers remained to play with your slick as you came down from your crazy high. Minho had leaned his cheek against your warm, kids shaky, thigh while he watched you with a satisfied smirk.

"Are you okay, kitten? You have no idea how cute you sounded as you came on my mouth and fingers, purring and whining like a sweet kitten." you looked back at him with hazy eyes, as you made grabby hands. He chuckled and removed his fingers from your pussy, placing them immediately on his own cock, starting to stroke himself up and down.

You pulled him close, over you, pushing down on his shoulders with your arms. Your legs closing around his hips, immediately trying to grind on something.

He moaned in the kiss, "Such a horny baby that doesn't even need a minute after she just came" he teased you but you didn't cared, you whined and pulled him closer to keep the sloppy kiss going.

"Need you, mh- please, get- get 'nside 'o me" your words slurred but he understood you anyway. He parted from your lips, panting.

"Baby girl, w-", he swallowed trying to speak coherently, "You have protection?"

You nodded, pointing to the drawer of the nightstand. He moved a bit to reach into the drawer, fishing out a condom. But not before taking a peek at your cute, little, clit sucker toy.

He bit back a smile as he sat back on the heels of his feet to unwrap the condom and slide it carefully on his painfully hard dick.

"Usually it's rabbit toys" he teased, making you laugh faintly.

"I can't come with penetration only" you shrugged, which made your tits jiggle in your bra. Suddenly hypnotizing Minho, which had a promise to respect, he remebered.

He smirked, then properly got back between your legs, and just as you were about to pull him in for a kiss, he retracted with an eyebrow raised.

"First, this is gonna come off" his hands slid down the strips of the bra down your shoulders, then he reached behind your back to untie it completely. He sighed when finally he could throw the piece of fabric away, and enjoy the heavenly sight of your tits. Which, with his outmost disappointment, you rushed to cover with your hands.

"Hey, you promised!" he scolded you, "Plus, I already ate you out, what damage are a pair of tits gonna do now? None." he answered his own question, at which point you gave up and moved your hands back on his strong shoulders. He gasped, in awe.

"Ah, here they are..." he bent down, immediately attaching his mouth to one of the nipples, making you moan.

"So soft, round, so sweet..." he cooed as he grabbed them, squeezed them, kissed, licked and soft-bit them. Your hands were now intertwined in his cherry red hair.

"Minho, baby-" you both noticed how you slipped with the petname, but you brushed it off "Please, I need you. Need you inside me so bad, please.." he heard your plea and nodded, giving a break to your breasts just enough to position himself with your entrance, and then slowly but steadily he entered you.

It felt like one long stroke, until he filled you to the brim, his tip hitting the back of your walls, making you both moan. He stayed still for a couple of seconds, propping himself up with his forearms by the side of your head.

"Oh- hng, fuck. You feel s-so good. C-can I-?" you nodded frantically, moving your hips to meet his, making him hiss.

With that, he started moving, back and forth, at a normal speed, without ever exiting completely, instead focusing on stroking your g spot each and every time, driving you absolutely insane.

"Ah, fuck M-min...please go faster, please, please" he whispered praises and reassurance in your ear as he complied, his hips starting to go faster and faster. He kept going until he started to feel you tense up, and you croaked out "M close..s-so close, please"

At that point he moved his dominant hand from your side and slipped it between your bodies, circling your clit with two fingers to help you get there.

You gasped at his action, tightening the grip your thighs had on his hips a bit and arching your back, feeling your orgasm so, so close.

And it only took a couple more strokes for you to cum.

"Ah! Fuck, I'm- I'm coming, Minho", while your orgasm was happening, he felt your walls tighten around him, which made him frown in fatigue. "I- I know, sweet, come for me" he managed to say as he was still punding into you, but his pace was faltering.

This time it was your turn to help him get there, so you grinded on him, helping movement and friction, while also tugging a bit at his hair, which you noticed he seemed to like. And as expected, he groaned, then moaned, finally stilling as he came inside the condom.

His arms were trembling a bit, and he looked absolutely fucked, so you just pulled him to lay on your chest and rest. His head on your breasts. Both trying to calm down your breaths.

You were in silence for a little while, but then Minho pulled himself up and carefully got up from the bed, going straight to the private bathroom in the bedroom.

It kind of hit you at that moment, that this was not normality. This was a one night stand with a co-worker. So you also got up, quickly picking up your discarded clothes. Putting Minho's on the edge of the bed, while you exited the bedroom to go wash up in the other bathroom.

It didn't take long, as you decided that you would've taken a full proper shower tomorrow before leaving. Right. The flight. The speech. It all came back hitting you with a force, hitting you back with reality.

But reality was still in your bedroom, too. So you dressed back up, freshened up and quickly went back.

Minho was in his boxers, busy buttoning up his work shirt. His gaze landed on you as you appread on the doorstep. He gave a quick smile, then looked back down. And your heart kind of broke at that.

Was he also embarassed, or did he regret it already? And what were you feeling?

Everything was contradicting in your head right now, so you recomposed yourself enough to think clearly. It was now two am in the morning.

"Please, spend the night here. Then you can drive home tomorrow morning. It's so late now, I'm sure you're tired." it sounded so fake, so foreign to go back to being polite while just ten minutes prior you were tangled up in bed horny like animals.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be on the couch." he said as he also slipped his pants back on. You looked at him confused.

"The couch? But, the bed is big enough-" he interrupted you, picking up his tie.

"The couch will be fine. I just-", he sighed, "I need this, okay?" he pleaded silently. So you just nodded, keeping your head down.

"Please take anything you need. Good night, Minho" you spoke softly. He just breathed a "yeah" then closed behind him the door to your bedroom.

--

That night you didn't hear a single sound coming from the living room. It was just you, your overthinking, and the uncomfortable knowledge that a person that you have very quickly come to care about is sleeping seprately from you. On the couch.

You got him. You were confused too. But it still heavied on your heart. Until finally, you fell asleep from exhaustion without realizing it.

--

The morning after you woke up startled by your alarm. You checked the hour: six thirty am. Yeah, you definitely needed to get up. Those five more minutes will have to wait another time.

Then it hit you. You remebered what happened the night before. You remebered it all, perfectly.

The way you asked Minho not to go. The way he made you feel so good, both physically and mentally, for the first time in a while. Then you remembered how cold things ended up, too.

You got out of bed quickly, praying that he was still here, to at least make sure that everything was okay with you two.

But as you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the corridor, into the open space living room, no one was there.

The only thing out of place was the, usually discarded carelessly, now neatly folded blanket on the couch.

For some reason you felt like crying. What was wrong with you!

It was you, after all, that asked him to have sex and reassured that it wouldn't have meant anything. "Just stress relief", you said. He agreed. You both consented. You didn't regret it. So why did your stomach hurt?

--

At seven thirty pm sharp you were already on a taxi on your way to the airport.

You showered, got presentable enough, checked to have all your files, then picked up your small suitcase and you were ready to go. You would've had all the time to get 'professionally' ready when you got to the hotel. Which was also the place where the convention was gonna be held at, so even less stress.

When you arrived at the pre-established entrance number of the airport, you saw the team standing outside, chatting and some smoking.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to act like everything was normal. But nothing was normal about you getting on a stage to talk live in front of million dollar companies. And nothing has been normal for you after the night before.

As soon as the team saw you walking over, they started to cheer and shout out embarassing stuff to tease you. You laughed, but gestured for them to shut up.

Everyone picked up their cases to fo inside, and that's when you noticed Minho. Of course he was there. It was his job, too. But while you were instantly named 'leader', mainly because of a joke and the other's laziness, he remained at the back, minding his business. So you did the same, for now.

Once you got through all documents, tickets and baggage checks, you entered the waiting area at your assigned gate and could relax for a while before they started calling in passengers. You and the team did not go first, but almost.

Your boss had been gracious enough to put you seven in business class, so you would be the second type of passengers to board the plane.

And with a rather quickly queue, that's exactly what you did. In less than an hour you were ready to take off. You had almost secretly hoped that your seatmate would be Minho, but of course it wasn't. It was an older co-worker, around his fifties. You made some small talk at first, but then you put on your headphones and focused on reharsing your speech and the slides.

--

The flight was on time, two hours later, you were back on land. You were kind of disappointed with youself, because at some point, Henry saying it was about half an hour in, you fell asleep.

But at the same time, you did have a very short and shit sleep last night so, better rest now than be sleepy later.

When you walked out at arrivals you saw a man in suit and tie holding up a sign with your company's name of it, so you approached him.

"Good morning, miss. Are you the seven people I have to take to this address?" he asked, showing you the paper. You nodded.

"Yep, it's us." you turned and gestured with your hand to follow you.

With some surprise, you found a mini van waiting outside, with nine seats including the driver's. Minho went on first, as far back as possible, and you went on last, next to the driver's seat.

The hotel wasn't that far, only fifteen minutes, so you got there pretty quickly. When you entered the reception, it was a bit crowded, of course with the amount of hosts that were there for the convention.

Yet again, you waited in line, then provided documents and the staff gave each of you a card key to your rooms. For organization purposes you were put all on the same floor, with rooms near to each other.

You just nodded in understanding and politely declined the invitation to have lunch out that some co-workers offere, opting to remain in your room, practice and maybe rest some more.

You didn't need distractions in that moment. But not everyone was on board with the plan, so you and another two people, oneof which was Lee Minho, went straight to the elevators.

You were grateful for Amanda, the senior of the team, that made small talk abou the appearence of the hotel. She was talking mostly to herself, even though she thought she was talking to you and Minho.

Thankfully in a couple of minutes, everyone went their separate ways and rooms. You sighed, relieved when you were finally alone again. This 'ignoring' situation was ridiculus, you were adults for fuck's sake. And yet neither of you approached the one for now, so you were both fools.

'This is getting fixed, tonight', you thought. The gala would've started at about seven pm, so hopefully by ten pm you were gonna be done. No matter what, you promised to yourself that you would've had a grown, mature conversation. But later.

Now you just preoccupied yourself with ordering lunch and, once again, going over your files. For the last time, thank god.

--

Five fifty pm. You were ready. Kind of.

Make up, done. Hair, done. Clothes, done. Papers, done. Purse? Ready. Your brain? Not ready.

You were honestly just trying not to sweat literal cold now and not cause yourself a stomach ache. Your only salvation at that point would've been distraction.

You remembered how fucking nervous you were at every single graduation in your life. High school, degree. Hell, even middle school. Being on the spotlight for anything always made you so extremely uncomfortable and sick.

It was only as you grew older that you understood that really, the only secret to get through this type of stuff is just fakin' it til you make it. No other way around it. If you deluded yourself into thinking that you had your shit together, so would others.

So that's when you decided to just go downstairs, a bit early just to hang out. Maybe have a drink or two. You weren't the only one who would've had to speak publicly that evening, so who knows, maybe you'd find your trauma twin.

You picked up your phone, purse, papers, then you were out of the door. Just as you almost made your way down the corridor, nearing the elevators, one of your heels got stuck on a bump in the moquette.

You gasped, saving yourself by planting your hands on the wall at your left for support. But that meant that now your papers and purse were on the ground. Messy. Great. Always better than a twisted ankle, you thought.

You bent down, trying to pick up the scattered papers in order, when you suddenly heard a voice.

"Everything okay?"

"Shit!", you clutched the paper to the chest, scared. You looked behind you, but aside from the scare, you recognized the voice immediately. Of course you did.

"Yes, just tripped. Thank you." Your tone was cool as you addressed Minho, going right back to stacking your stuff in your hands.

"Wait, let me help" without thinking, he joined you, starting to pick up the files as well. In perfect order, too. Of course your second in command would know the presentation by memory as well.

"I got it." You so much spared him a glance as you got back on your feet, snatching back the paper. He stood back up, too. Hands in his elegant pants pockets. Awkward.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice so casual and polite it actually made you mad. You crossed your arms, a little awkwardly as your hands were busy.

"Oh, so now you're talking to me?" Minho frowned. Mirroring your pose, closing off.

"What? You think it would've been appropriate to air out personal business while sitting in a car with five other people? Co-workers?" he snapped back.

"No one said anything about drinking and hooking up, a normal "good morning" would've been enough" you rolled your eyes.

"Well it's not like you attempted it either, yn"

"Ah, yes because I surely felt welcomed with open arms after you-"

"Hey guys! Wait for me!" You and Minho both turned your heads toward the young woman speeding up her walk. She was the youngest in the team. Niece of the boss, nonetheless.

You both took a step back from each other instinctively. You offered a fake smile and wave as the red haired man pushed the button for the elevators.

"Ah, thank you! It's a bit late, but at least I won't be showing up alone" she laughed. You widened your eyes, scrambling to fish the phone out of your purse.

"What do you mean 'it's late' !?" The clock showed six pm and five minutes. You frowned, but before you could speak, Minho did it for you.

"It's not late, stop panicking her. They opened the conference room at six. They're gonna start at six thirty. It's fine." the young girl seemed a bit intimidated by the stern tone used by the man, but the just shrugged.

"Oh well, I may have read the invitation wrong. Same thing." you took a deep sigh, taking a moment to calm not and not choke her on the spot.

"Better this way." you offered the same brief fake smile.

Finally the damn elevator doors opened, so you stepped inside and once again Minho pushed the first floor button. It could've been a silent couple of minutes, but of course they younger girl just could not resist.

"Did you learn everything well?" Oh wow.

"I have spent weeks researching and editing this stuff, I didn't only 'learn' it like a school poem." the annoyance in your voice really couldn't be hidden anymore, so good thing the elevator doors opened back up.

This time Minho took it upon himself to lighting place his hand on your back to lead you outside.

"Everything is ready, see you inside" he exclaimed back. So much for not acting suspicious, you thought.

You stopped a few meters away, stepping to the side away from his hand.

"Is everyone trying to get on my nerves specifically tonight, or" your voice dripped sarcasm, making the man roll his eyes.

"Yeah, right. You got enough on your plate right now, I know. That's why I tried to be civil" he didn't let you have the chance to bite back, as he kept going " In any case, I'm gonna leave you alone now. Go get a drink. A light one. Relax, you'll do great. Later, we can talk. In private."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Let me actually distract myself now, or I'll end up starting to argue at the stand instead of explaining my speech." with that, you forced yourself to walk away.

--

At exactly six thirty the conference started. You were seated with your team, of course. Everyone around this large, round table.

So cute, like king Arthur and his knights. And you were king Arthur in that moment. And hell, you would've better extracted that sword perfectly at first try.

Your turn didn't came until about an hour and a half later, after the welcoming speech, a couple of virtual messages from rich people who were too busy to be there in person, and a bunch of other companies' expositors.

"Please, give a round of applause for the next representative." the announcer spoke into the mic as he read from a folder, listing your company's name, the CEO, a few words of introduction, then finally your name.

The public applauded politely as you walked on stage with a smile, as carefully as you could. Couldn't have attempted twisted ankle number two at that moment.

"Thank you. Good evening. Tonight I am here to represent our," you extended your arms toward your team's table, " - company's project. I was honored with the duty of exposing the project to you. Hopefully it was the right call!" the crowd laughed and smiled.

You focused on explaining the idea, from the first draft, to research, then one by one describing and arguing the slides. Finally citing sources and closing your speech with some polite greetings.

The crowd once again clapped as you gracefully made your way down the stage. The presenter moved on, and a big sigh of relief left your mouth.

Your team looked at you with smiles, congratulating you as you went back to the table.

--

The whole official thing actually wrapped up around eight, not nine pm as you expected. Dinner was served and then a more casual after party was held. Not an actual party, more like a jazz music ambience with drinks, made for conversation.

And you did engage in some conversation, mainly with strangers and people from other companies. Some more job related topics, some about the event itself, others just very small talk.

By ten pm you were absolutely ready to ditch the whole thing and go to bed. You did it, it's over, it went well and the world didn't fell. So yeah, you called it a day. With everyone else, at least. But you still had some unfinished business with a person in particular.

Minho not so secretly followed you with his gaze all evening. He was so glad that the presentation went smoothly and it was over. He was also very proud of you. While your... relationship had been very short by then, he worked with you enough to know that you put your whole efforts into this project, and it paid off.

He was keeping his eye on you, but you were keeping yours on him as well. And both of you noticed. To be honest, the intention wasn't even to hide it.

You never interacted once. He just congratulated you along with everyone else, then that was it.

As he had been doing all night, he followed you with his eyes as you made your way out of the conference room. He waited a couple of seconds, then nonchalantly ditched his half consumed drink and followed you. As he expected, he found you waiting for him.

"Fancy seeing you here" he teased. He may have not acted like it, but he was actually quite nervous.

"Yeah, right" you replied with the slightest hint of humor, " I know there is a pool outside. It's closed now but you can still access it through the garden."

The man nodded in acknowledgedment, silently following at a moderately short distance, behind you.

Neither spoke a word until you were outside, the pool sides and the small garden dimly lit with warm lights. You sat on the sunbeds, next to each other. It was actually pretty cold, but you didn't seem to care at that point. At least there was no one else there, as you hoped.

"So..." he started, mostly to break the ice. And like that, as if you were waiting for a clue, you blurted out "Do you regret it?"

Minho stared at you for a second, slightly confused.

"What makes you think that?"

"Just answer. And be honest. I can take it, you know." your rubber your shoulder, both from the cold as well as the nervousness.

"I know you can." , he stated, serious "No. I didn't. Did you? Is that why you're asking?"

Your gaze finally found his again, the annoyance giving you some courage.

"No, I didn't. It was my idea, remember?", you paused, " I'm asking because you were cold last night. You know, after." just like that, eye contact was out of the window again.

"What? If anything it was you who disappeared without saying a word." he retorted. You raised an eyebrow.

"I went to clean up. You went to the bathroom so I thought you wanted some space."

"I was going to help you clean up. Not even the time to come back with a towel that you already left. At that point I thought, 'ah nice, the stress relief is over, better go back home' ", he air quoted with his fingers, "What was I supposed to think? Those were your intentions after all."

You couldn't really debate that. That's exactly what you said. It was crazy, you didn't even really know each other. If you weren't co-workers you wouldn't have seen each other again, ever. And that was probably the biggest mistake.

You knew the risk of getting personal life involved with the workplace. But then again you only wanted a night of meaningless sex. Why even make this fuss? Yet, there must be something. Otherwise you wouldn't bother having this conversation.

"Might be. All I know is that I literally asked you to stay, I offered you a place in my bed. Without any second meaning." you specified, "And instead you shut me down and went to sleep on the fucking couch. Left without a note or anything." you tilted your head to the side.

"I have already explained my reasons.", he replied, "Honestly what I get from this is that we're both pretty bad at communication." you stared at each other for a moment, and then, out of the blue, stifled laughs.

"Why are we arguing like an actual couple?" you asked, genuinely confused and weirdly amused by the situation. He shook his head, as clueless as you were.

"I have no idea."

Silence fell between you two for some time. Until you leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands on the sunbed.

"So what now?"

"What now?" he repeated.

"Do we pretend like this never happened?" yours was a genuine question, no second meaning or pressure behind it. He shrugged.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?" he rolled his eyes, a light smirk on his face. You were just parroting each other at this point.

"I mean, I enjoyed myself. Don't know about the future, but that's a quite nice memory to keep, at the very least." he replied honestly, sneaking you a look, "Did you enjoy it?"

The question and the eye contact combined making you you blush. You nodded, acting more nonchalant than you were actually feeling. But you couldn't hide the but of mischief in your eyes at the thought.

Minho licked his lips, biting back a smile. Then nodded to himself.

"Right. Well, I say we see what happens. One thing we can agree on, though, is whatever, - if- anything happens, it stays out of the office" he waited for your response.

"Okay", you said, "Let's see what happens on Monday, then." you exchanged a smile.

Yeah, who knows, what will happen on Monday?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Y'all are gonna hate me for that finale🤣 but I warned you!!

That's it from me, hope you enjoyed and if you did, feel free to leave a feedback :')

Bye<3

[jewishgirlrevolt]

Honestly, if I were an exec at this point I would be thinking about how long the show should go on. Maybe give it one more season with a clear indication that there should be satisfying resolutions for everyone.

Bobby finds his niche which lets him retire peacefully, while Athena takes a job at the police academy. Either the fire academy as its like chief, or principal. OR he decides to be the next firechief. Actually if Athena and Bobby both decide to head up the two academies that would be very funny.

Hen is promoted to Captain, or Karen gets an offer for a full-time tenure track position at Cal Poly while Hen gets an offer to head up another firehouse in the same area if she's not captain of the 118. Or Karen gets a full-time job at Cal Tech and Hen stays at the 118 or gets to captain a firehouse a little closer.

Given his years of experience, Chim gets an offer to head up the Firefighter training academy. Maddie and Chim welcome a healthy baby boy named Kevin Daniel Buckley Han. Sue retires, Josh is promoted, and Maddie becomes Josh's right-hand woman. Bonus points if we see that kid that Chim mentored work at dispatch.

Could also make for a couple of scenes of Chim and Athena both ordering cadets around or talking about silly things cadets do.

Eddie Diaz reconciles with his son and agrees that unless he's serious with someone, really serious he will not introduce them to Chris, who makes it clear he doesn't need a mom. Maybe last half of the last season Eddie meets a nice woman also with a kid, younger than Chris, and they agree to go slow. Bonus if this woman is also a widow. they have things in common. But they've both worked through their grief and just trying to figure out how to be happy. They're dating. But not dating. Just getting to know each other and then maybe Eddie is the one who asks, hey maybe we can move forward. They do not meet at a call. They have some kind of meet cute at Karaoke trivia.

Now this one should be obvious. Buck and Tommy get back. together, and really work on each other and on the relationship. Helicopter crash or no copter crashes, we need Buck to fight for what he wants. Tommy learns to accept love and family and be vulnerable with others. End of the series they get married or at least move in together. Bonus points if they go house hunting together and we have a montage of everyone helping them move in together, or they have the final 118 bbq at Tommy and Buck's house. Buck decides to take a sabbatical from work to get/ finish his college degree because he realizes he does want to be a fire captain one day.

IDK I'm a sucker for a full-circle ending.

[qqueenofhades]

I'm having a bit of a rough mood from seeing that the judge in the Georgia case dismissed some of the orange motherfucker's charges.

Can I get some your ever-insightful perspective on this, and if there's still hope for prison time for something? Anything at all?

I can offer a few pieces of context on this, yes. First, the judge did dismiss a few of the less-substantiated and secondary charges against Trump in the Georgia election interference case. However, these charges were primarily related to "soliciting others to make false statements," i.e. how he enlisted others in the purpose of overturning the GA election results, and do not contest or impact upon the actual fact of election subversion (which is at the core of the prosecution). The judge also openly invited the prosecutorial team to re-submit the dismissed charges with more substantiated evidence and clearer testimony, so this wasn't a from-the-bench hack job like the ones Aileen Cannon keeps running in the Mar-a-Lago classified documents case (seriously, when can we appeal to the 11th Circuit to get her taken off? WHEN???) Which, considering that this is a Republican judge appointed by a Republican governor (Brian Kemp) is a good sign.

In short, this wasn't the judge saying "all these charges are bogus and inadmissible," it was the judge saying "I'll dismiss a few of these for not being as well substantiated as the others, but please resubmit with revisions/improvements and I will be happy to consider them again." And while I am not a lawyer, it is my understanding that prosecutors typically bring a multiplicity of charges, including some that might not ultimately stick, in case of this exact circumstance where some of them get dismissed/required to undergo judicial review/are otherwise ancillary to the central indictment. Which, in this case, is still intact. So no, Trump is 100% not "getting entirely off the hook" or "no longer under investigation in Georgia" or whatever else. I'm sure the GOP will try to spin it as such, but ignore them. The Trump "find me 11,780 votes" phone call to Raffensperger and the rest of his Georgia election interference has not been dismissed, and the RICO case still largely exists as first filed.

This is also a good sign that the judge won't order Fani Willis dismissed and the case completely shut down, as the Georgia Republicans have been trying to do with their hit-job inquiry into her personal life. If the judge was leaning toward dismissing Willis/the case entirely, this could have been a lot more sweeping intervention, but it doesn't look like he's going to do that, and in fact offered them an invitation to re-submit and make the case stronger. So that actually bodes better for the chances of eventually securing a conviction in the Georgia case, if the prosecutors have to go back to the drawing board and make sure everything is airtight. It's probably helpful to see all this in the above light and to understand that all legal cases drag on for years, with forward progress and setbacks. Especially this one, which is unprecedented in all ways.

However, I need to warn people again about thinking that Trump will be tried, convicted, and imprisoned before the election, and that this will spare us from having to vote against him or otherwise electorally dispose of him. SCOTUS, to nobody's surprise but still our disappointment, agreed to hear the Trump immunity case in late April (instead of just accepting the DC Circuit's opinion), and while they're likely to rule against him, that still creates another months-long delay. Importantly, though, the Department of Justice has announced that the "no legal proceedings 60 days before the election" rule does NOT apply to Trump, as he has already been indicted and the cases are currently being litigated. If they had decided that the 60-day rule applied, all trial proceedings would have to be frozen in the first week of September, but since not, they can continue into October and November. If the 60-day rule had been upheld, it would have drastically increased the odds of Trump avoiding trial entirely before the election, as few prosecutors would have wanted to proceed when they knew that there was an automatic kill switch built in. But if the DOJ holds to this, Trump could literally be on trial on Election Day itself. Which is good, obviously, but still: it will not be the magic solution. We still have to vote for Biden.

As I have said before, the stakes in 2024 are simple. The criminal trials will not get rid of Trump before the election. There will be another election that is Trump vs. Biden and therefore one of them will win the presidency. If Biden wins and Trump loses, Trump will be out of delay options and will go to prison almost 100% as all his criminal chickens come home to roost. If he wins, we will be fucked for generations to come. Vote accordingly.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Domesticated

Daryl Dixon x reader

Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship

🏠 🌳 🐺

You laid in bed, cuddling your big, fluffy beast of a man. Propped up on your elbows that rested on his chest so you could press sweet kisses to his snout while the rough pads of his paws ran over the soft fat of your thighs and butt. You had just gotten out of the shower while Daryl had offered to warm the bed for when you got back.

Even with the winter being as cold as it was, you were,you were perfectly comfortable being in the nude underneath only the large deer pelt Daryl had gifted you as his courting gift that you had ever so excitingly accepted when the days started getting shorter, and with accepting the pelt you also accepted his offer of marriage.

Which was something you hadn't entirely realised as it happened.

You had been invited to come over for dinner and you had stayed with him in his basement room overnight and only kisses and cuddles were shared after he gave you the pelt.

When you came back upstairs the next morning Carol had embraced and congratulated you, asking if the newlyweds would like some breakfast.

Your little sign of shock had Daryl almost regret not being more forward about it until Carol enthousiastically spoke up about it and Daryl only sensed happiness and love coming from you.

"So, the pelt is like my wedding ring?" You three shared breakfast and talked. Carol snooped about your first night together and got disappointingly boring answers, and Daryl explained how werewolf relationships worked and tried to adapt them to you being a human together.

So here you sat at your back porch. A large sheet covering the white painted floofing as you held the squirel carcass with your bare hands and cut away at the skin with a grimace on your face.

Next to you your loving husband laid on the floor, rolled over on his back and laughing.

Well, as far as laughing went in his shifted form.

The first time he had you do this was a nightmare.

Daryl came home with a couple of hunted squirels, throwing them at you and letting you know he caught dinner and you were preparing it.

Sitting on the porch you watched in horror as Daryl showed you how to skin the little creature and prepare it for cooking.

When he handed you one you took it reluctantly, being way out of your comfort zone while Daryl laughed.

"Yer the one who mentioned havin' kids. I'm the one teachin' ya how to be a good werewolf momma before I even think of puttin' a pup in ya."

You complained all the way through the job, and Daryl helped you a lot those first few times.

Now as you were at the squirel business again he had shifted so he couldn't help you. Not physically but also not even verbally as he couldn't talk. You almost didn't want to feed him the squirel after you finished it.

Not that you'd need to take it apart for him, he'd swallow it whole.

"It's for the babies." You kept telling yourself as you almost cried when you stuffed your hands into its chest cavity to pull the innards out. "Gods, I can't believe you shove your entire head between a deer's ribs to eat. So gross.."

While it wasn't technically a complaint, Daryl still decided to fake offense and dramatically turn away from you, plopping down with his tail almost in your squirrel and loudly grumbling like you hurt his feelings.

"Just know that if you ever feed them whole squirels you're the one bathing them." You swat his tail away from the dead animal and slump back as you continue to reluctantly carve it up.

At least you had dinner prep almost done now.

Together with the potatoes coming in from Hilltop and the locally grown greens you managed to put together a decent meal for the two of you.

Like you agreed on you ate dinner together at the table, even if you had been spending all day at home. Dinner was one constant at home to both be normal people for a moment.

As you ate you felt eyes on you, knowing full well what that look was but you ignored it to the best of your ability and continues to eat.

Untill Daryl decided ro mumble a question with his mouth full. One you didn't quite make out and had you look up.

Right into his big, sad puppy eyes that looked down at the meat on your plate and back at you, pleading to trade.

There was a lot people didn't know about Daryl. One of those being his hidden talent for giving puppydog eyes that rivaled even little Jude and RJ's.

One quick glance was all it took for you to give in and trade some of his potatoes for your portion of meat.

A sigh leaves your smiling lips as he happily chows down on his dinner.

After Daryl washed the dishes that you dried and put away after, you decided to go for a shower.

He loved it when you washed his hair, scratching the collected dirt off his scalp and massaging fhe soap through his hair. If you didn't need to preserve water he could stay in there like this with you for the whole night.

When you were done he'd always return fhe favor. Washing your hair with the same care as you did for him.

One thing you did without fail was make sure to be out of the shower before Daryl had the water shut off.

As you stood on the ratty old bathmat you watched Daryl's figure as he shook the water off him like a wet dog, his long hair slinging waterdrops everywhere.

Your little after shower ritual was nowhere near as thorough as it was in the old world, but whemever Daryl brought back sealed bottles of lotion you'd make sure to treat your skin nicely while your hair sat wrapped in a towel and Daryl watched you while he air-dried on the edge of the tub.

You loved to watch him through the mirror, staring lovingly at your butt while you lathered yourself in lotion, and caked moisturizer on your face. After massaging it all in you went to towel dry your hair as you let the rest of you continue to air-dry.

Once you had your hair dried and brushed you moved over to brush Daryl's as well. Carefully plucking at the tangles and being relieved when you didn't find any knots you couldn't save and had to cut out.

Living alone in the house was a blessing, being able to walk around the upper floor in nothing but a towel without having to worry anyone would see you as Daryl snatched the towel off you to hang over the edge of the tub before joining you in bed.

It might have been early, but as long as he got to cuddle you he'd be in bed any hour of the day.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: So much fluffy goodness! Do you enjoy the fluff? Or would you enjoy more smut?

[altsvu]

more than just my intern

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

summary: sonny was eager to take you under his wing when he suddenly realizes he was eager for more…

tw: none i can think of 😅

a/n: y’all PLEASEEEE don’t be mad at me but this was sitting in my notes for ALMOST A YEAR bc i wanted to add smut but it was HARD. so i got rid of it, but if y’all want a part 2, i can definitely do it! also this gif is just *chefs kiss*💋 its so fitting for this lowkey

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“I like you so much, I wish you were more than just my intern.”

“Well, those arrangements can be made.”

You enjoyed being a detective, but you wanted more. You followed in Sonny’s footsteps for as long as you could imagine and now it was your time to shine. You and Sonny had been partners for about 4 years when he announced he was applying to law school. You were there for Sonny when he got his acceptance letter, and when he had mentioned before his acceptance that he was applying to Fordham night school to become an ADA, it had become a surprise to you because you were actually looking at that school, among many others in the area. A few years after Sonny finished law school, you got one of the best news of your life.

“Sonny, you need to come over ASAP.” You said over the phone.

“Why, are you okay?”

“I just have something here that I’d like you to witness.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 20.”

When Sonny came over, the both of you curled up on your living room couch staring at your laptop.

“I got an email from Fordham.”

The clock ticked slow from the time you opened up the email to the time you clicked on the link to log into the portal.

“Is that what I think that is?” Sonny said.

After you logged in there was another thing you had to click on in order for you to see your application status. Then, a whole bunch of confetti popped up on your screen.

“OH MY GOSH I GOT IN!” You screamed.

You and Sonny screamed and laughed for a few moments, living in the moment. You got accepted into law school!

“I’m so proud of you Y/N. You deserve it.” Sonny said, pulling you into a hug.

“Aww thank you.” You beamed. “And look at you, thriving as an ADA already. If anything I’m proud of you!”

Sonny also had a wide smile on his face. “It’s no easy thing, so thank you. These accomplishments deserve a little celebration, dont’cha think?”

“Oh yea,” You agreed.

And with that, your life changed.

•••

Fast forward a few months, you went through orientation and all those get to know you stuff and you were now taking your official classes. Sonny on the other hand was doing great as an ADA and you were extremely happy for him. Juggling law school and working as a detective, not to mention you got promoted, was something you were learning to handle one day at a time. You didn’t know how Sonny did it.

Throughout the semester, Sonny occasionally popped by to check on and see how everything was going, and he even helped you with some of the classes that he previously took. When you had your spare time on the job you went to visit Sonny to see how he was handling Hadid and the cases he had to work with. On the days he had to work late to prep for trial, you were reluctant to leave him, you were curious about this aspect of being an ADA. He gave you advice and other words of wisdom that you kept with you throughout your time in law school.

A year and a half passed by and Sonny was taking off with his career and you were still in school, doing everything you could to get high grades in your classes. On top of that, dealing with all the changes Manhattan SVU was going through was taking a toll as well. It was about that time for you to start gaining experience. Sonny let you sit in cases, live cases, in the courtroom, as you took notes on his techniques, just as he did when he learned from Rafael.

“You know, you might as well be an ADA now with all these cases you’ve sat in with me.”

“Not yet, Counselor. Give it about two more years. For now, I’ll be your little intern.”

That brought a smile to Sonny’s face. “Intern, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re serious about it, I can make arrangements with the DA… it can be your part time.”

Your eyes widened. “Sonny…”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to act on it right away, I just want the best for you. I didn’t get the chance to do this, but I want you to have it.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you hugged Sonny.

“Thank you. Seriously, for everything.”

“Of course. Anything for my partner.”

•••

After many conversations with the DA’s office, the bureau chief, and even Benson, you got your official position as ADA Sonny Carisi’s intern. Part time internship kind of situation. It was needed as one of the requirements for one of the classes you were taking so it fit.

Your days consisted of looking over some of the cases Sonny had on his docket, taking notes for your own practice, as well as observing during cases. You did get paired with other ADA’s on the eighth floor, but you always drew yourself towards Sonny.

•••

One night, you were in Sonny’s office looking over a case with him when he decided it was best for the both of you to have a nightcap.

“Hey, you’ve been taking notes on that case file for a while. Unwind with me.”

You looked up and saw Sonny pull out a bottle of wine and glass cups. You watched him pop the bottle open and pour the red liquid in both of the cups. He handed one of them to you, hoping you would accept it. You sighed, plopping the case file on the table. Taking the glass with a smile on your face, you followed Sonny to the couch he had in his office.

“You know, I don’t think I ever told you this, but it’s beautiful how dedicated you are to becoming an ADA.”

“Aww, you think so?”

“Yes.”

“I appreciate it a lot. I think a part of it was also your doing. You inspired me to go further in my career. Further helping victims of all walks of life that don’t have a voice of their own, victims that want to be free from the shackles of their toxic situations, victims that are tired of their bodies being used forcefully for sexual desires.”

“Maybe I did inspire you. You’ve really been a great advocate for everyone that walked through those precinct doors and it shows.”

“Cheers to that.” You smiled, raising your glass.

Sonny clinked his glass with yours and smiled. “Cheers.”

“I’m glad you’re my intern.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your glass down. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I get to spend more time with you, for starters.”

“Mmm, yeah, I miss you at SVU sometimes. It’s not the same without you.”

Sonny nodded. “I get that.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, just completely comfortable silence and long looks.

“I like you so much, I wish you were more than just my intern.” Sonny admitted to break the silence.

You were startled at first, but then a smile crept on your face as soon as you knew what he meant.

“Well, those arrangements can be made.” You whispered. You took one more sip of your wine and scooted closer to Sonny.

“Oh yea?” He said in a hushed tone, moving closer to you as well. At this point, the both of your thighs were touching each other. You felt a major spark between you and him. You were feeling a certain type of way and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“Yea.” You whispered.

Sonny gently took your face in his hand and kissed you.

After the kiss, the both of you were smiling, holding each other’s faces in hands and touching foreheads.

“I want more,” you said. “That was beautiful.”

“Beautiful indeed, my little intern.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @detective-giggles , @lapaquerette , @itsjustmyfantasyroom , @ssaic-jareau , @averyhotchner , @blackbeautifulqueen , @redlipstickandplaid, @storiesofsvu , @hotchsbabygirl-blog, @deiondraaa, @wandas-wife , @ellevandeberg

[intimidating-fettuccine]

It's a stupid question, but... have you seen those romantic cliches where the new person ends up getting lost in a new/unknown place, and suddenly meets a person who already has experience in that place and asks for help?

So I wanted to know if you could write a scenario/headcanons where the reader has just arrived at the mansion, but ends up lost and ends up meeting Jason who was just passing by and ends up asking him for help?

~jason simp anon

Pd: It's a pleasure to be back :D

Welcome back! I thought this ask was very cute, so thank you for sending it in, and I hope you enjoy :)

The path to the mansion can be a bit tricky for those not used to it yet. While there is a clear path, it often gets covered by leaves and branches from the many trees spanning above, and it certainly doesn't help that there are other paths that lead to different places. While you had done a pretty good job working your way through the forest, you'd found yourself at a three-way split in paths and were unsure of which one to take. Luckily for you, your unsuspecting knight in shining armor also happened to be on his way home. Unfamiliar with your figure, he'd questioned you what you were doing, quite suspicious of you, but the minute you'd turned around and smiled at him eagerly he felt all of his hesitation melting away.

You informed him you were a new hire at the mansion (even showing him direct proof from some paperwork Slender had given you in advance), but that you weren't quite sure how to find your way back. Ever the gentleman, Jason readily agrees to guide you on your way and thus begins your journey with him. While he tried making conversation to appear polite, Jason soon found that he actually quite liked your company and that he was enjoying himself while spending time with you. He made sure to drill into you the correct route, even showing you the discreet markers the other creeps use to make sure they don't get lost. The forest floor gets quite bumpy, and so at one point he even offered you his arm to hold so you'd be more stable, and of course, you accepted, leading Jason to wonder why it was that he was so happy having you hold onto him like that. As you drew closer to the mansion, he found himself growing a bit sad, as once you arrived he'd be quite hard-pressed to get alone time with you once more. He wasn't even looking forward anymore, walking beside you with his eyes trained on your face, watching your expressions and developing a fondness for you he wasn't quite used to.

Good things must come to an end, however, and you soon reach the front gates of the mansion, slipping in easily thanks to Jason's help. You thanked him for guiding you all the way, and he bowed lightly, telling you it was his pleasure. What he wasn't expecting, was for you to eagerly give him a quick hug, thanking him again before entering the mansion ahead of him, calling out that you didn't want to be late for meeting up with Slender today. Jason couldn't help but stand there for a few moments, his hand resting over where your head had pressed into his chest, missing the warmth of your body already. He felt truly peculiar, unsure of how to process how you had such an effect on him when you'd just met, but he merely dismissed the idea to go about the rest of his tasks for the day. It wouldn't be until the end of the day arrived, when you finally located the entrance to his workroom, that the bubbly feelings he'd been pushing down all day since meeting you would float back up. You told him you stopped by to chat and tell him about how your first day went, thanking him again for this morning, and wishing him goodnight. He listened with rapt attention to everything you were saying, forgetting himself and anything he'd been doing up until that point. He felt a bitter sadness in his chest as you turned to leave, but he wished you goodnight all the same, although he called after you to please visit again. The smile you gave him as you cheerfully said you would nearly make him fall back, his body unsteady. He must be going mad, he thought to himself, to be affected so easily by someone like this, but as he watched your retreating figure run up the stairs, he decided that it might not be such a bad thing.

[lex9923]

Tw// SA

This will be my one and only official statement on this situation, because frankly I’m done with all of this mental hopscotch happening.

I am a sexual assault victim. I was the same age as Caiti is now when it happened, and I was cornered with his hands down my pants touching my vagina and up my shirt touching my boobs, while I tried to get away and make it stop. I still to this day don’t know who my attacker was, but it will follow me for the rest of my life. It’s been five years since then, and my story has not changed once. Not ever. I hadn’t told people for a couple years cause I thought since I didn’t know who my attacker was, I wouldn’t be believed. As well as the fact that I came forward about a sexual harassment I faced at a job and was met with “well, boys will be boys”. Through it all, I am here, and I survived.

Watching the reaction to this situation from both of the main parties involved, those who weren’t there, those who were, and the fans had sent me spiraling. I’ve spent the past two weeks reliving that trauma from five years ago cause I thought I misinterpreted my assault as something else. I had not, and never have. It’s been incredibly invalidating watching the alleged “victim” change the story multiple times, make fake texts, omit important information, all while not even listening to the person she accused of a criminally offensive act.

Caiti is absolutely allowed to feel uncomfortable and regret what happened after the fact, but it is not, and will not ever be assault-unless George actually did touch her boobs, and then that will be a different discussion, but with her credibility disappearing, I’ll only believe it if he admits it himself. I’m trying to extend grace to her being young, sexually inexperienced, and caught up in online culture, but it’s hard the longer this gets dragged out. There are things you do when approaching a situation like this:

1. You absolutely need to provide evidence and proof of your claims. You can’t prove something that never happened, but you can prove something that did. It’s why it’s innocent until proven guilty. Expecting people to blindly believe you is delusional at worst and ignorant at best.

2. You must absolutely have your story 100% correct and factual to how you perceived what happened, before bringing forth any accusations. Using purposefully charged language and then changing the story to match the one you accused is not it. Nor is changing your story yet again when people are catching on to the inconsistencies.

3. Allow the accused person to defend themself. You can’t expect people to listen to all of your claims-most of them blindly doing so-and then get upset when people wait for both sides to say their piece, especially when you present no evidence at your initial statement. Again, you have to prove guilt. If you can’t prove it, the accused are allowed to defend themself.

4. You are in no way obligated to accept apologies, but acknowledging one was made-multiple times in fact- is the bare minimum. Trying to change your story one last time to make it seem even worse than what you both agreed upon, and then hiding behind “I’m not going to address this anymore” is manipulative at worst and cowardly at best.

I hope Caiti gets therapy, cause it’s clear she’s been severely affected by something, though I’m not sure she even knows what it is. I also hope she learns from this, and next time utilizes the “direct message” function every single app has. This could have been a dm, and the way it spiraled has been a shitshow and her intentions are coming off less and less pure the more this gets dragged out. I’m so sorry she was uncomfortable, and regretful, but until she shows any proof whatsoever of any assault happening, it will never be. I hope she heals, and I hope she gets better friends cause they have all failed her.

For George, I’m sorry this got blown so out of proportion and no one even privately talked to him about any uncomfortability being felt. I’m sorry his friends are performative. I’m hopeful that he was made aware of things he wasn’t before, and will do better next time. He is not irredeemable, and I believe growth is possible (the difference in his two responses proves as such). I hope this isn’t the last we see of him or his content, and I hope he can heal from this as well.

To my fellow SA survivors, I’m so incredibly sorry that our trauma has been thrown around like this. Our hurt and pain do not deserve to be mocked in this way, and I wish it would’ve never even happened. You’re stronger than what happened, regardless of how shitty this situation has been for us. And as a 24 year old, I like to consider myself a big sister of sorts, so I love all of you. We got through it then, we’ll do it again.

Speaking woman to woman, I’m sorry this has been so messed up. This will make it harder for us to come forward in the future and that is indescribably frustrating. However, that does not take away from the pain and hurt we went through, and I hope if you do have the strength to come forward, you are believed.

I’m done with this whole situation. It should not have come to this point, and if you stayed this far, I greatly appreciate you reading this. One last time. Caiti, I’m sorry you were so uncomfortable. Get therapy, better friends, and take a break from the internet. George, I hope you learn from this situation, and I’m sorry you were made out to be a criminally offensive person before giving your side or anyone ever speaking to you.

I hope you both heal.

I hope sexual assault victims having to relive trauma, and are affected by this continue to heal.

I love you all.

Lex

[starsfic]

The Week After, Chapter 4: Day 3 and 4

The next two days passed in silence.

Morgan did the tax plus additional employment paperwork in the office, secretly glad that they thought to bring their social security card with them, just in case. Frankie stayed in the office as well, mumbling to himself as he tapped on a laptop. It was a ridiculous sight, considering how tall he was and how small the laptop was, but they swallowed back a laugh and focused on the paperwork.

The last step was to send the paperwork by scanning a QR code on the back. Morgan raised a brow but raised their phone up and scanned it. A link popped up and they clicked it. There was a soft ding, and a little animation of Frankie dancing popped up, with a message overhead saying that they were done.

With that done, Morgan stood up. They still had stuff to unpack and figure out where to put in the studio apartment that the break room now was. Their phone gave a second ding and they checked the screen.

“Holy fuck.”

“Language, my dear!” Frankie said, turning his head. “What is it?”

“I just got paid for this season,” they said, rubbing their eyes to make sure they didn’t mistake the number that had popped up. “That…it’s a lot.” It wasn’t five million dollars, but it was a lot, enough that it felt like more of a bribe than a paycheck. It was also more than they ever got from the stupid retail job or even gambling on the show, so Morgan was more than happy to accept the bribe.

“How much?”

That wasn’t Frankie’s voice. Morgan looked up to see two men walking up, both dressed in overalls and work clothes. They felt their body tense instinctively at the sight. “Who are you?”

“They’re here for me,” Frankie said, patting their shoulder.

“Yep, here for the updates,” the older of the two said, looking Frankie up and down. “It was a surprise when we got the order, but hey. Upgrades had to happen eventually.”

That felt like he was talking about something else. Frankie felt it, based on how his grip on their shoulder tightened. Then he released, patting their back. “Well, let’s go, shall we?” he said, stepping around them. “We don’t want to waste any of your time, do we?”

“Yep. Come on…”

The younger guy stayed back. His gaze didn’t seem angry, they realized- he looked awestruck. “So, how much?” he said. “I heard you agreed to do double or nothing.”

Morgan rattled out a number.

“Wow. That’s almost as much as the animators get paid.”

Huh. “The animators get paid a decent salary?” That raised several questions

The maintenance man chuckled. “Mostly because the boss is terrified of them, especially the director.” He leaned forward into a stage whisper. “From what I heard, he trusts her to manage his animations, and the last time he even thought of decreasing the pay, she made him regret it.” Morgan stifled a chuckle at the thought of Cartoon Frankie being terrified. From the few interactions they had, he had felt like he knew he was in charge and made sure you knew it.

“MITCHELL!” the older man boomed. “GET OFF YOUR ASS AND COME HELP ME!”

Mitchell jumped. “SORRY SWANSEA! COMING!” He turned back to them and smiled. “It was nice to meet you, though! Hope you don’t die next season!”

More questions rose up as he rushed away from them.

[buckevantommy]

i'm aussie, so i'm watching How To Make Gravy which is a new angsty aussie christmas movie (and it's a lot of feels) and it's giving me bucktommy au inspo:

Buck is in prison. He's been there for a few months and is having a rough time - because of his looks, because of his size - and there's a particular group of guys who are giving him a hard time - leaving him with injuries, getting him thrown in solitary. Until one day, Bobby steps in before things get too out of hand.

Bobby is a fellow inmate but he runs the kitchen. He takes Buck there to patch him up - or maybe Chim is there and he does it. Bobby offers him a choice: get caught up in prison life shit, or take a job in the kitchen (and help them in the lead-up to Christmas) and work to keep out of trouble, keep on good behaviour, and look forward to getting out of there.

Buck doesn't accept at first, until another run-in (or promise of one) has him showing up at the kitchen where Bobby tells him he's welcome but also has to show up to a group meeting - usually held twice a week but in the lead-up to the holidays they're doing it every night. Buck is hesitant, doesn't want 'therapy', but ultimately agrees and is put to work after Bobby lays the ground rules and gives a brief intro where everyone meets their newest recruit.

NOTE: Bobby handpicked his kitchen crew, everyone there wants to stay out of trouble, is a diligent worker, works as a team, respects each other and the rules, and is working to be better for when they're released.

Also working in the kitchen is Tommy, who remarks to Bobby how he's 'letting trouble in' with Buck - to which Bobby says: "It takes a lot to ask for help, Tommy. You know that." And.. yeah, Tommy does know.

The meetings take place in the prison chapel with Father Brian - who is sort of a chaperone to the group, mostly just observing from the back and offering advice or input when need-be. Bobby leads the meetings, opening with what they have in common and how hard life on the inside is, but it's hard to fuckup in this room which is a safe place. He states his issues, a bit of personal history, open and honest. "That's how my story begins, but it doesn't have to define the person I am or will become." Then he poses questions, one by one asking who has experienced the same unfortunate circumstances - raised by absent or abusive parents, feeling unloved as a child, experienced homelessness, considered suicide - to step closer - they all do; proving they have more in common than they think, and that they're not alone.

The meeting continues while seated, Bobby talking and folks sharing. Tommy shares and then Bobby prompts Buck to share - Buck, who by the way goes by Evan in the kitchen and at the meetings. Buck is hesitant, unsure what to say. Chim suggests he talk about what makes him happy. Tommy tells him, patient and knowing, to just say whatever he feels.

Bobby asks about Buck's knack for cooking, and he admits that his brother taught him (when they were young), before he died. Bobby offers his condolences, and Buck, "It's not your fault.. It's my fault. He died from an illness I was made to cure but I wasn't enough (in the end). I failed my one job." NOTE: this happened years ago and wasn't what landed Buck in prison, it's just a pivotol moment from his youth. He might also mention the way his parents treated him after - like he didn't exist, like he wasn't enough. Buck tries to minimize his trauma but Bobby catches it, tells him he doesn't need to do that here, and notes how Buck deserved better.

Buck gets emotional - it's a lot to address, to dredge up, to talk about, to be vulnerable with strangers especially in prison - and then he gets angry. Bobby calms him, tells him he doesn't respect him any less for crying, and notes how difficult it is to share what he did, and how not many people are as brave especially at their first meeting. Bobby thanks Buck for sharing and they call it a night.

While packing away the chairs, Buck has a nice moment with Bobby, and then officially meets some of the guys: Tommy, Chim, Eli, Sal, Ravi, Eddie. He leaves the meeting feeling lighter than he has his entire stint thus far, a weight lifted in airing some of his trauma and not being rejected but instead seen, respected, welcomed, wanted, and know that he's not alone anymore.

[sjsmith56]

Assignment Bucky Barnes, Chapter 8 - A Minor Setback

Summary: Bucky and Ariel make up after their argument. She and her uncle go to the Barnes’ house for Independence Day.

Length: 4.3 K

Characters: Bucky, Ariel, Merton, the Barnes family, Steve, other minor characters (historians).

Warnings: Comments about Bucky by a character.

Author Notes: Take note of the other minor historian characters. They will be more prominent in Part 2 of the story.

<<Chapter 7

Merton looked over the video recordings immediately, wondering what Ariel was thinking when she agreed to having four children but then immediately brought up continuing to work.  That wasn't the typical response of a 1940s woman.  Once again he speculated about whether she was the one sabotaging the relationship and skewing the data but he dismissed it out of hand.  She was Peri's protégé and had been mentored closely by the older woman.  As a new historian she also didn't have the permissions and codes to manipulate the timeline, not that much manipulation was permitted anyways.  Going to her door he knocked gently and heard a little voice say "Come in."

Ariel was on her bed in the dark, lying on her side with her arms wrapped around a cushion.  He turned on the bedside light and noticed she had been crying as they were red.  She wiped her eyes when he stepped closer, bringing the chair from near the window.  Merton sat facing her and leaned forward so he could see her face.

"What happened out there?" he asked gently.  "One moment he was asking about the number of children you wanted, which was considered enlightened at the time.  The next moment you were telling him you still wanted to work.  You know from your training that wasn't a typical attitude from women of this generation."

"I'm not a typical woman," she said, then seeing his reaction added to it.  "I'm not trying to be rude or flippant about it but the girls he all dated before were typical women and it wasn't enough for him.  My modern attitudes had to have influenced his desire for me.  Why would he shut that down when the talk came to family and me working?"

"Because he's still a man of his time," replied Merton.  "It's how he's been raised and although you're probably right as to why he was more attracted to you, you're also wrong to expect him to meekly step back and allow you to work when he's supposed to be the breadwinner.  It is sexist and patriarchal but completely understandable if you accept it in the context of these times.  Attitudes towards women working outside of the home didn't even start to change until the war started and women took over men's jobs so they could go to war.  When the men came back they expected women to stand down and return to their homemaker roles.  Many did, willingly, but just as many didn't because they felt fulfilled for the first time in their lives.  As a historian yourself you know those changes took years to be accepted by society and even then there was still a vocal minority who longed for simpler times when a man took care of supporting the family and the woman took care of the house and children."

"So you think I was wrong?" she asked, taking a handkerchief that he pulled out of his pants pocket, and using it to dab her eyes.

"No, because you're a product of your upbringing and you're a woman of your time," he replied.  "You just didn't respond the way a woman of this time would have.  You responded as you, and that may have crossed a line in your objectivity."

She closed her eyes for a moment.  "Shit, you're right," she said.  "It got under my skin.  I reacted as Ariel Paxton, born in 2119, not as Ariel Black, born in 1917.  Looks like I sabotaged myself there, doesn't it?"

"It does," he nodded, "but it's fixable."

They heard a noise outside and Merton quickly put the chair back then left the room and closed the door behind him.  Ariel went to the window and saw Bucky in the yard.  When he saw her he climbed onto the roof of the addition and approached the window.  Stepping away from the opening she gestured with her hand and he climbed over the windowsill into the bedroom.  Desperately she wrapped her arms around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her.  They stood comforting each other for some time without speaking then they sat on the bed and whispered together.

"I'm sorry," he said.  "I consider myself an enlightened man but the thought of you having to work while still looking after the house and children just didn't sit right with me."

"It's not even having to work," she replied.  "I like working at the Library.  Being an only child with just my Dad and a housekeeper I never had to look after brothers and sisters so I don't even know if I'll be a good mother.  I had a vision of being trapped in a house full of crying babies and diapers hung up everywhere drying.  It wasn't what I planned for myself when I went to college."

"We'll work it out," he said.  "We just have to remember if we disagree not to call the other silly.  I'm sorry for that.  You obviously know more about what's happening in Europe because I never even considered that there might be another war."

"I just read the papers," she explained.  "I'm afraid, Bucky.  If there is a war you'll be drafted and have to go fight.  I might never see you again."

She began to cry and Bucky put his arms around her.  "Baby, don't cry," he murmured.  "If war does happen then I'll do my duty but I'll come back to you.  You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Raising one hand to her hair he kissed her passionately then ended the kiss and stepped back towards the window.  Ariel held one of his hands and kissed the palm which he caressed her face with then he exited via the window and jumped down to the ground in the dark.  Ariel watched him from the window until he was out of sight.  She left briefly to tell Merton what Bucky said then returned to her room and changed into her nightgown.  As she settled under the covers she looked up at the ceiling, trying not to let her knowledge of Bucky's future affect her.  He was the best thing that ever happened to her and she wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could.

In the morning she woke up early and got dressed to bake the apple pie before it became warm.  In her time she did a lot of her own cooking, most of it vegetarian based but when she was told she would be doing this assignment she requisitioned some cookbooks from the era and began practicing the recipes, using historian credentials to order beef, pork, fish, and chicken for the dishes.  Unlike some other historians who detested the taste and smell of meat she had no problem with it and found she enjoyed the taste of most meats although some World War II recipes that used other parts of the animal were challenging to even handle, let alone eat.  Thank goodness her dog Walter, who really did exist back in 2142 but was smaller than she described to Steve, was happy to eat her failures. 

The recipes for such dessert staples as apple pie, apple crumble, peach cobbler, and chocolate cake were her favourites and she baked them often, bringing the finished dishes into the Historian Guild headquarters to share with others also training for a 1940s assignment in other locales.  They exchanged recipes often and she considered herself a decent cook.  Merton had cookbooks and she found several apple pie recipes before settling on one that was most similar to her favourite in her timeline.  Earlier in the week she went to the grocers and bought 8 Granny Smith apples, brown sugar, salt, butter and a lemon for the filling, shortening, and flour for the crust.  She made the crust first, cutting in the flour, salt, and shortening then using ice water to bring it to the right consistency.  After wrapping it in a towel she put it into the icebox to chill. 

Merton got up and they ate breakfast together while the dough rested in the icebox.  He would soon leave to meet up with several other historians to move the transport portal apparatus to a new location, choosing a warehouse that one of the historians was able to lease for a reasonable rate. 

"If all goes well we should be done well before noon," he said.  "I'm actually looking forward to being at the party.  Previously some of us resident historians would meet and celebrate but this is the first time I've been invited to a real get together."

He left and Ariel prepared the apples, peeling them and slicing them into equal sized sections.  She brought the dough out, cut it in half and rolled out the base crust, smoothing it into the pie plate.  Placing the apples into the shell she covered them with a mixture of sugar, salt, cinnamon, lemon juice and grated lemon rind.  Then she rolled out the top crust, cut it into strips and made a lattice crust.  The oven was hot and she put the pie in for 10 minutes then reduced the temperature and baked it for almost an hour, with a cover of tin foil on it for the final 10 minutes.  When she pulled it out she was happy with the colour and set it on the table to cool.

While it cooled she went into her bedroom to decide what to wear, wondering if shorts were too risqué and heard a noise outside her window.  She looked out in time to see Bucky putting a white chrysanthemum on her window sill.  He looked sheepishly at her.

"You caught me this time," he said, picking it up and climbing in her window to place it in her hand.  "It means truth and loyal love."

She took it and smelled it then looked up at him.  "How do you know the symbolism?" she asked quietly.

"There's a florist between my place and here," he said.  "They get their deliveries in early so I stop by and ask for the different flowers of love.  I usually make it here before you wake up then go to work but with today being a holiday I slept in.  I was hoping you did as well so you wouldn't hear me."

"Oh Bucky, you sure know how to court a girl," she said softly. 

"I've never done this with other girls," he admitted, as he towered over her.  "I bring them bouquets before a date but not the individual flowers.  That's just for you."

They gazed at each other before he leaned over her and kissed her tenderly on the lips, then drew her in closely in an intimate hug.  He smelled clean and wonderful, of Ivory Soap, and she breathed it in deeply. 

"Bucky, in Missoula we were pretty casual on Independence Day," said Ariel as she still had her arms around him.  "There was often a rodeo on so we wore jeans or overalls.  What should I wear today?"

"Well, if you have a nice sun dress I would like that," he replied with a small smile.  "What's in your closet?"

Opening her closet door she pulled out several dresses while Bucky sat on the chair and watched as she held them up to herself.  When she pulled out a soft sky blue dress with cap sleeves and lace around the collar he smiled as he touched the full skirt.

"That's very pretty," he said.  "I like blue and I think that shade of blue would look beautiful on you."

"I just got it," she said.  "I'll wear it for you."

Holding her hand he pulled her into his lap and kissed her neck.  A lock of her hair ended up in his fingertips and he played with it while gazing intently at her.  His left arm supported her as she caressed his clean shaven face then kissed him sensuously on the lips.  It was so quiet in the room that they could hear each other's breathing then they heard the sound of the van pulling up outside.  Bucky stood up to leave and Ariel shook her head.

"Come out to the kitchen," she said.  "I have some coffee made and some cookies.  We can say you were visiting properly, like a gentleman.  Which you were.  You can tell Uncle Merton you came to offer your help with his errand."

"That's not true," said Bucky as she pulled him into the kitchen.  "Don't you think he'll know a lie?"

"We weren't doing anything troubling," she countered.  "That's no lie."

She poured each of them half a cup of coffee and put a few cookies on a plate, sticking one in his mouth and one in hers.  He noticed the pie cooling on the table.

"You were up early baking that, weren't you?" he asked.  "It looks good."

"It is good," she said.  "You'll see."

They heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open and the sound of several people coming up to the apartment.  Merton opened the door seeing Bucky in the kitchen but he just smiled and brought his three friends in.  Ariel recognized them as other resident historians.

"Uncle Merton, are you done already?" she asked.  "Bucky came to offer his help but you had already left."

"Yes, we were able to move the furniture quickly," he said.  "Gentlemen, this is my niece Ariel Black and her beau, Bucky Barnes.  This is Orville Remington, Hal LeBlanc, and Will Greening."

Bucky stood up and shook hands with all of them, then they all shook hands with Ariel.  She offered them coffee and cookies which they accepted and sat around the table drinking and eating.  There was no conversation at first until Will asked Bucky if he was one of the lucky ones going to the double header later.

"No, I wasn't able to get a ticket," he said.  "It's my friend's birthday today so we usually have a combined birthday party and Independence Day celebration.  Then there are fireworks after at the park.  You're all welcome to come, if you wish."

They all said they had other plans and again there was silence.  Then Bucky finished his coffee and said he had to go.  Ariel walked him down to the sidewalk where he kissed her goodbye and headed back home.  When she got back to the kitchen she stopped one of the men from cutting into the pie.

"No!" she said.  "That's for the Independence Day party.  My goodness, you historians take liberties."

Orville grinned.  "So that was Bucky Barnes," he said.  "I'm somewhat underwhelmed."

"Oh? In what way?" asked Merton. 

"That Peri thinks there's value in studying him now, before he is changed," said Orville.  "Based on that brief glimpse of him he seems like most young men of this time period.  How did the British in World War II put it?  Overpaid, over sexed, and over here."

He laughed at himself but the others didn't join in. 

"Orv, there's a reason you're supervising a historian who's studying a run of the mill school teacher," said Hal.  "You don't see the subtleties of a person.  I saw a well groomed young man who works a very physical job based on the calluses on his hand, who readily offered us his hand in friendship then offered us hospitality with the invitation to his family's celebration.  His Brooklyn accent was measured and his vocabulary was appropriate.  I liked him and knowing that he fought his torture for so long shows me the strength of the inner man was well ingrained even now."

"Hmph," voiced Orville. 

Hal winked at Ariel.  "I think you're doing a grand job," he said to her.  "Merton has already indicated you've uncovered some previously unknown details.  Well done."

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate the compliment.  I take it the relocation of the portal apparatus went well."

"Yes, it did," said Merton, "and just in time.  There were several pieces of heavy equipment on the site to begin demolition of the garage.  We got it out of there just in time.  We're paid tenants of the new site so if there are changes to the building they have to inform us first."

"What would have happened if they demolished the building before you could remove the apparatus?" she asked. 

"We would go to another portal location and go back far enough in time to remove it then return," said Will, the quietest of the four men, and the youngest, as he was at most in his mid 30s.  "It's disguised and the controls are kept by each of us so it would just look like a pile of old equipment.  Merton, is it true they're working on a completely virtual unit that will be summoned by the control panel?"

"That's what I hear," he said.  "I'll be done as a resident historian before then.  They're still at least a year away from it, I think."

The others finished their coffee and cookies, and bade their goodbyes.  When they heard the door close at the bottom and Merton had confirmed the three others drove off in their own vehicles he looked at Ariel.

"I'm sorry about Orville," he said.  "He really is unsuited to be a resident historian.  He has no sense of the innate qualities of our subjects.  We stopped off because Will and Hal wondered if Bucky would be here.  They both wanted to meet him.  Hal is supervising the historian watching Dum Dum Dugan, while Will is supervising the person watching General Phillips.  So, why was Bucky here?"

"I caught him in the act of dropping off another flower," she replied.  "A white chrysanthemum, a symbol of truth and loyal love.  He knows of a florist between his home and here.  They get their flower deliveries early in the day so he stops and asks for a different flower symbolizing love.  I'm the only girl he's given single flowers to, apparently."

"Nice discovery," replied Merton.  "Did you abuse your uncle's hospitality?"

"No, we didn't," she answered.  "We kissed a little but it was very respectful.  He helped me pick out a dress to wear this afternoon.  Discovered he prefers the colour blue."

"Well done," he replied. 

Together they made a light lunch and ate it.  Both of them did some replaying of their recordings and took notes of their observations.  At 1:30 Ariel changed into the blue dress and fastened the chrysanthemum onto a recording brooch.  She also wore the bracelet that Bucky bought her.  When she came out she saw Merton had changed into tan pants, a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a knitted vest.  He looked very casual and comfortable.  While Ariel carried the pie and Steve's present Merton drove and parked close to the Barnes home.  Before they knocked the door was opened by an excited Rebecca.

"You came!" she exclaimed.  "I'm so glad you came."

"Rebecca," said a woman's voice from inside.  "Let them in."  The young girl blushed and stepped aside to let the pair in.  "Thank you for coming."

"Mr. and Mrs. Barnes this is my uncle Merton Burnett," said Ariel, when they stepped into the parlour.  "Uncle, these are Bucky's parents and you already met his sister Rebecca."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, offering his hand to shake with Bucky's parents.  "Thank you for inviting us."

"Thank you for coming," said Mrs. Barnes.  "Ariel, why don't you bring the apple pie with you to the kitchen while your uncle goes through to the garden.  We have everything set up out there."

She went with Mrs. Barnes and Rebecca, but handed the present to Merton.  The kitchen was full of food and Mrs. Barnes pointed to an empty spot on the table for the pie. 

"I keep the food in here to keep the flies off of it," she said.  "Everyone helps themselves and then takes it out to the garden to eat.  I'll take the birthday cake out there at the end.  Rebecca, could you ask your father and our guests if they would like a beer?  Thank you, dear."

Rebecca went outside and Mrs. Barnes closed the kitchen door then looked at Ariel with understanding. 

"So, am I right that your uncle caught you and Bucky in a compromising position on Sunday?" she asked.  "I'm not judging.  Bucky was upset when he got home and he was so depressed until you called and asked him to come over."

Ariel, startled at the question, lowered her eyes and nodded.  "We were indiscreet at best," she said, in a low voice.  "My uncle was furious.  I was also upset, thinking I had lost Bucky forever.  You have to believe me.  We didn't plan it.  It just happened."

"My dear girl, Bucky always plans," said Mrs. Barnes with a knowing smile.  "He has a ... healthy interest in women and he doesn't leave anything to chance.  But I don't think he was expecting the reaction that your uncle had, considering the rumours about him."  Ariel looked at Mrs. Barnes with surprise.  The older woman smiled again.  "We don't judge.  Heaven knows it's hard enough for people who love differently to live in this world without fear.  Your uncle has been a good friend to Bucky and to Steve, giving them odd jobs, books to read, and opportunities to grow as men.  He's done it without expectation of repayment which is the Christian way.  Now, Bucky seems happier but I want to know at what cost?"

Ariel took a breath.  This conversation was most unexpected and she was glad she wore a recording device.  "Bucky isn't to pressure me into going to bed with him," she said.  "Uncle Merton wants us to develop a relationship based on mutual understanding and respect without the ... sexual aspect."

"How do you feel about that?" asked Mrs. Barnes.  "Were you a virgin before Bucky?"

Ariel blushed and wondered if she should lie but suspected the woman was quite attuned to knowing when someone was lying, meaning she had to be careful how she worded things.  "No, I was active in college," she said.  "I told Bucky after he told me how many women he had been with."

The older woman smiled.  "You got that out of him?" she said. "Well done.  I'm impressed.  Do you think you'll be able to abide by your uncle's request?"

They were interrupted by Rebecca saying the men all wanted a beer.  Mrs. Barnes took 4 beers out of the ice box and gave them to Rebecca along with a bottle opener, closing the door behind the girl again.

"It's only been a day and I don't know how long we can wait until we can't help ourselves," admitted Ariel. 

"Alright," she said.  Then she leaned close.  "We'll see how well Bucky adjusts to this.  I must say for him to agree means he is more serious about you than any other girl he's ever been with.  Don't risk angering your uncle if you feel he will try to keep you apart.  If you must be together then come and talk to me.  There are always options. Now, let's go out and enjoy the nice day with the men and Rebecca."

She moved towards the door.  "Mrs. Barnes, why are you being so understanding?" asked Ariel.  "I wasn't expecting this."

The older woman took a deep breath.  "George and I met in November, 1915," she said.  "It was almost instant, from the first moment we met.  He was a soldier.  I was a teacher.  It was hard to find time to be alone and if we were discovered he would be disciplined but I would be dismissed.   It's difficult to be young and in love, and when you want to be intimate it's even more difficult.  We know that.  Bucky is a good man.  He's been a little wild at times but he's always done what was right by this family.  You're the first girl he's ever given an indication of being committed to.  You're good for him and I suspect he's good for you.  We won't stand in your way."

Mrs. Barnes placed her hand on Ariel's and squeezed it then opened the door and asked who was ready for some food.  As the men came in Bucky looked at Ariel and whispered that she looked amazing.  When he walked past her his hand deliberately brushed against hers and she felt the electricity between them.  

The frank talk that she just had with Mrs. Barnes surprised her as it was quite atypical of the morals of the time.  For a moment she thought they would be amazing in-laws then realized they wouldn't ever be that to her.  For all of their understanding and progressive thinking they would live a lifetime of sorrow when the telegram of Bucky's death would be delivered to them.  For a moment Ariel thought she would cry then she made eye contact with Merton and he raised his eyebrows slightly.  She responded with a minute shake of her head then forced a smile on her face and picked up a plate, helping herself to the wonderful assortment of food that Mrs. Barnes had spent so much time preparing.  She gave a happy face to everyone while inside she felt helpless against history.

Chapter 9>>

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[buckets-and-trees]

Navy, Navy, Navy...

You dropped this man in my askbox at the beginning of the week, and I knew I knew him, but it took me a couple of days to figure out exactly which Steve he was...

And then I realized he's absolutely Buck's Eleven Steve...

Collection: Buck's Eleven Title: Bookings and Rings Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 650  Summary: Our first glimpse of Steve's girl in this AU. Can be read as a standalone, you only need to know Bucky and Steve are putting together a big heist job for New Year's Eve 1960.

Content Warnings: hints of 1960s societal views, movement toward smut at the end (fade to black)

Logistical Notes: Thank you @vonalyn for spiffing this up and making sure it was up to snuff. This ticks off my first box in my @the-slumberparty Bingo Card B4 "Proposal."

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You lock and close the door behind you, letting out a happy sigh. You’re home. You drop your keys on the table in the entry and step out of your heels, clutching them in one hand and your travel bag in the other, then make your way down the hall into the living room.

You pause and grin at the sight in front of you.

Steve is sitting in one of the armchairs, relaxed, reading the paper, the bright afternoon sun streaming in from the window behind him. You can tell he’s had a fresh haircut since you saw him last week. He’s in a brown tweed sport coat and black shirt. He always looks good.

“You’re home early,” you say.

“Is that a complaint?” he asks, returning your grin as he lowers the paper to look at you.

“Well, you’re also in my home, not your home.”

“Until you agree to call my home your home, sometimes I just can’t help myself when I want to see my girl.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, but the grin is still on your face. “Good thing you’re handsome, Rogers.”

“And you know I’m good for other things, too,” he says as he folds up the paper and sets it aside. “Now come over here, tell me about your day. Where were you?”

You deposit your heels and your sleek blue Pan Am duffel on the couch, then sit on the coffee table in front of Steve. “Rio de Janeiro.”

“Long flight then, let me take care of my girl.” Steve gestures for you to rest your feet up on his thigh, and as you do, he immediately takes one of your stocking-clad feet in his strong hands and begins pressing his thumbs deeply into the sole. You moan and some of the tension in other parts of your body starts to melt away. Steve smiles at that. “Tell me about your day.”

You do. While you talk, he listens, asks a few questions, moves to rubbing out your other foot completely, and then starts working up your calves.

When you’ve caught him up on the relevant pieces of the things that have happened the past few days, shared the frustrations as well as the funny stories, you finally ask him, “What do you want – I get the foot rubs when you want something.”

“You’d get this regularly if you’d accept my ring, honey,” you open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head and continues, “I know, I know, you’re not ready to give up your explorations.”

“No, I’m not.”

“But you remember I’ve always got that ring with me. You say the word and it’s yours.”

You lean forward and kiss him, then say, “I’m not saying no, I’m just saying not now.”

“I’ll take you everywhere you want to go.”

You lean back a little and tilt your head. “I know.” You rest your hand over his heart. “And I am yours… just not your wife yet.”

“Yet,” he echoes.

You laugh then kiss him again. It’s a long kiss this time, one that has him eventually pulling you into his lap, and your arms are wrapped tightly around each other, lips and tongues dedicated to nothing more than connecting and expressing the feelings between the two of you.  

It only ends when you’re both completely breathless.

“What do you need from me?”

“Two things… I need to get a team into Vegas. Can you book them in?”

“Sure, leave me the list of their names and departure cities before you leave, I’ll put them in.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“What else?”

He grins and his hand slips between your thighs, moving right up to your mound. “Let me take you to bed and give you more reasons to make it hard for you to hold out on finally becoming my wife.”

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