#and my boss has barely left her office all day and have not thought about what she promised me last week

[superbattrash]

Today was supposed to be a really good day. I was supposed to get offered my job officially so I’m no longer an unpaid intern and I was supposed to get my prescription for testosterone so I could start tomorrow

Instead I just cried in my car all the way home to my apartment because the dishwasher at work wouldn’t close properly

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Office hours.

Pairing: modern!Javier Peña x f!reader Words count: 3059 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours? Tags: porn with very little plot, modern setting (they have computers and chats), POV second person, reader is described wearing a skirt, blouse and heels & having pussy and breasts, no other description of her is given, Javier is an unhinged menace and has a filthy mouth but so is reader, dirty talk, teasing, improper use of office chat, cockwarming, masturbation (f!receiving), pet names, slurs, pussy pronouns, mention of a sex toy, no Spanish because I don't really want to butcher another language since I am doing this extensively with English 💀, squirting, sexual activities in a public place, no age gap, age unspecified so it’s up to you (they’re both in their 30s in my head), the work they do is not specified so you can imagine what you want. I think it’s all? If I realized that I forgot something I’ll add it right away.

A/N: This is the second time I've tried to write Javi P and I'm terrified but because it came out on its own in a frenzy: here we gooo. I'm ovulating and I'm horny af. LOL It probably doesn't make sense, I don't have a beta reader, I reread it myself but my eyes are tired, English is not my first language so I ask your forgiveness if you find mistakes. I hope you like the dirty talk of this thing, I feel like it came out particularly well…fingers crossed.

You should really focus on your work, you have a deadline to meet tomorrow and you're still behind. And you certainly can't focus with a certain coworker in front of you. When they decided that you had to share a big office you secretly decided that your boss was an idiot. How productive could you have been with Javier Peña sitting at the desk in front of you? Obviously your boss expected you both to be adults, capable of controlling your own instincts. What you thought instead was that it would be the hell that it actually is. Because Javier is a charming bastard and you have had a crush on him since day one and he's definitely the type to flirt with all the women in the office.

You hate his guts and you fight practically all the time over any little inconvenience, but the creeping attraction between you, that feeling of always being on the edge of a cliff, that constant urge to provoke him to see which one of you would crack first never left. 

And today, when he showed up in yet another shirt that left his chest partially exposed-because the bastard in question wasn't the least bit interested in buttoning the last few buttons-and those damn skinny jeans straight from the ‘70 that on anyone would have looked silly and anachronistic but on him did nothing but send you into a frenzy of desire, you felt it might be the last straw.

Appropriate office attire does not exist for him, he only wears a tie for meetings with your boss but the rest of the time he dresses as he wants and apparently no one says anything to him. Fucking great, just what you need, seeing his chest displayed right in front of your eyes all the damn time.

You never even liked mustaches but now you couldn't help thinking how much you wished they would rub against your folds as he lapped at your cunt. You dreamed of him carrying your scent on him for the rest of the day, dreamed of kissing him and tasting you on his tongue.

You dreamed of getting up and going to sit on his lap as you continued to type the report you promised your boss and his cock rubbed against your thighs, your panties, and even better your bare pussy. You thought about it practically all morning and got so wet that you risked wetting your office chair, so much so that on your lunch break you had to hide in one of the bathroom stalls and take them off, to store them in a bag inside your purse. 

But now you are naked under your skirt. Which is even worse and makes things even harder for you. You jotted down in your mind that it was time to think about bringing a change of underwear with you. Now the fact that Javi was on the other side of the room was even more unbearable than before, setting you on fire. The temptation to do something stupid and make yourself a needy fool was eating you up. 

Javi looks up for a moment from the documents he is working on, casting one of his typical glances at you, big brown captivating eyes that stare at you many times during the day, only for a few seconds at a time. Minutes of each day flow so slowly when he is in front of you. You really shouldn't think about him; you're here to work. In theory. And you need this damn salary if you don't want to live without electricity or run out of food. The selfish asshole in front of you however doesn't seem to care that you will probably be fired soon and end up under a bridge, because he continues to tease you in any way he can. One day it's a quip about your nail polish, the next about your overly revealing blouse, the next about the length of your skirt. And then there are those glances, sometimes accompanied by a wink, mischievous smirks, a tilt of his head, little things that no one ever notices but you. He never pushes the envelope, but oh, by now you know he wants to. A week ago he asked you if you wanted to have a drink after work, and you said no, absolutely not, never mix business and pleasure, it was a very strict policy in your department. 

You regretted it right away, but what else could you have done? He's not someone you can trust.

He didn't push further, of course, which made you even more impatient, nervous, incredibly horny.

It's a challenge now, you have to have him. And you have to have him before your female colleagues, at least the ones on your floor. You always notice how they look at him, languid and sweet eyes, lip licks and lower lip nibbled, hair moved behind their ear, every time he walks down the hallway of your floor, there is no lady who doesn’t stop working at least for a moment to marvel at him.

It’s late now, the sun has long since gone down, almost everyone around you has been gone for at least 30 minutes, but you have been distracted all morning and now you have to catch up. You hoped he would leave with the others but he stayed here. You’re doomed at this point, you can’t even think straight anymore. You know there’s some other colleagues three offices ahead, down the hall, whom you saw five minutes ago when you got up to get a cup of coffee. As you reread what you wrote, with your eyes fixed on the computer screen, you can't get him out of your mind, feeling his eyes on you, heat blazing under your skin. You turn toward the door in a clumsy attempt to avoid his gaze, realizing that you have closed it.

And well, after all, you've been working hours, maybe you can take a little break. Just five minutes. And what better to do in those five minutes than tease Javi? 

You don't mind playing and playing with him seems almost natural and physiological given his constant attempts to sabotage your self-control; perhaps you could try to sabotage his a little without risking too much.

So you open your legs. Just a little bit, just enough to show him that you're not wearing panties. 

And you look at him, without saying anything. Javi licks his lips, you know his eyes have caught in full what you wanted him to see. His jaw tenses, his hand clenches into a fist over the papers he is examining. Little imperceptible reactions that you crave like water in the middle of a desert. 

Until the chat banner you use to communicate with colleagues lights up on your desktop. 

“I can smell you from here.” it says. The sender is obviously that bastard you share an office with. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you quietly type. 

After a few seconds another message appears.

"Your delicious pussy, of course, you tempting little slut." You turn to look at him who is totally deadpan.  

You click your tongue and type, “You should be thinking about your work, not my pussy, you know? Highly unprofessional. I should go straight to someone in HR and report you”

“Oh yeah? And so you want everyone to know that you come to work without underwear. Typical greedy slut behavior." 

You lean against the desk, pretending to be shocked at first, looking at him with disappointment. A small smile creases the corners of his mouth, a hint of teeth between his lips, his eyes fiercely twinkling, he is convinced he has made you uncomfortable. 

Smiling in turn, savoring the taste of victory, you lower a hand between your legs, grazing your now totally soaked folds.

His eyebrows rises slightly, his eyes fixed on your fingers moving slowly over your outer lips. 

You type “I think you like what you see” With your other hand. 

He swallows, lowering a hand to his jeans in turn. You lean against the back of the chair to get a better look and clearly catch the tent that is growing under the crotch. He bites his lower lip, one hand moving up and down over his bulge and the other typing on the computer keyboard. 

“I bet you don't have the guts to come over here and make my cock feel that tight pussy of yours.”

Okay, you think, if you want to play dirty that's what you're going to get. 

You look around, listening to every little noise from the other rooms, the office seems empty and quiet. 

You close your eyes, just a moment, before grabbing some papers from your desk, getting up and walking toward him, swaying on your heels. 

What you've been dreaming of doing all morning is about to happen, you feel yourself floating like in a bubble.

He unbuckles his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, freeing his huge shaft as he stares at you.

He turns his wheeled office chair toward you and you straddle him. 

He grabs your hips gently pushing you down on his cock, the tip grazing at your folds “such a slut” 

“If anyone here is a whore it's you. Do you think I don't know that you're getting off with half the accounting department?”

“Mh, maybe you should inform your pussy, she seems to have lost the memo judging by how much she's dripping on me.”

He holds his cock with one hand as you lower yourself onto him, looking down to where your pussy and his cock are coming into conjunction.

“Oh please shut up, I don't give a shit about your office banter.” 

You drag this out for months, days upon days of longing and teasing and nights spent in bed imagining that he was the one sucking you off instead of your toy.

You lean down holding his shoulders and whisper in his ear, “Stuff it all in.’” and you start rubbing yourself against him, feeling his huge dripping cock all inside your cunt. He stays still. 

You moan lightly and he shushes you "you have to be quiet honey, do you want us to be caught? Do you want them to notice that you are cockwarming me instead of working?”He places one of his hands on your mouth, your stifled moans vibrating on his fingers as you grind until your cream is leaking down his balls, his jeans, making a mess on his chair.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet” he murmurs thrusting a little and starting to hump his whole dick inside, he reaches your clit with two fingers and starts moving them slowly in circles over it “she’s squeezing me so right, baby, I can go on for hours just like that, stuffing you full with my cock” His other hand is resting on your hip, just above the waistband your skirt and he holds you close to him. 

He pulls out a little and pounds it back in, making you writhe and moan “Fuck yeah, you hear it? Your noisy sticky little cunt gushing for me? It’s like a fucking symphony” he whispers 

Your whines vibrate on his fingers “oh baby, you really have to learn your manners. I said keep quiet.” He removes his hand from in front of your lips and sticks two fingers in your mouth “suck these. Maybe you'll learn to be quiet with your mouth full. Or should I fill that one with my cock too?”

You suck them greedily, feeling the taste of your pussy spread over your tongue. “That’s right, baby, just like that”

You hear the main floor door slam, the last people have also left, you are now alone and his cock is buried inside you.

“Jesus, look at the mess you’ve made on me, sucking my cock in like the desperate little slut you are… you wanna come, huh?” 

You nod, as your tongue swirls on his digits, licking and sucking enraptured by your taste and his gaze locked on yours. 

“Yeah, I bet you want this cock to pound you senseless, am I right?” 

You nod again, feeling your heart raging behind your ribcage. 

You never felt so desperate for anyone, the way he’s torturing you, his cock deep down inside you without moving an inch, your pussy drenched, his precum smearing all over your walls mixing with your fluids. 

You feel delirious. 

“I know baby but not here.” He whispers mischievously and your eyes are almost on the verge of tears “you can come tho, let me help but you have to be very quiet for me, okay?” 

You think the office is empty, but you can't be sure, there are so many rooms and someone could still be inside.

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and puts them back on your clit, starting to rub it gently. They are coated in your saliva and slide pleasantly over it, sending you almost over the edge. 

“Look how swollen she is, poor little cunt, she wants to come so badly, isn’t she?” his low hoarse voice gravels in your ears as he pinches your clit and begins to jerk it off faster. 

You writhe trying to stand up a little to ease your numbed legs but he pins you down on his cock digging his fingers in your hip “nah, you stay where you are, honey, gonna come full of me and at the pace of my fingers” 

You bite your lower lip hiding your face in the crook of his neck “no, look me in the eyes, I want to see that pretty face while you come like a whore for me”

One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck as you force yourself to look in his eyes. They are black with lust and desire, pupils dilated and fixed on yours in a frenzy.

His fingers move faster and faster, his cock throbs inside you.

“Come apart for me, babe, let me feel your greedy cunt squirting for me, come on” 

His words are enough to send you over the edge, you come copiously squirting on top of him as he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, you’re so fucking beautiful right now” 

You strive to keep your eyes on him but eventually throw your head back overwhelmed by the heat spreading inside you, enveloping every cell in your body and pulsing uncontrollably in your veins. 

It’s too much, it’s all too much and he didn’t even fuck you properly yet. 

You collapse onto his shoulder, holding onto his neck, panting against his skin “Fuck” 

“Yeah, baby, I know, that’s what you wanted huh? Coming full of me like a bitch in heat?” 

You look into his eyes and whisper, “Oh, no, I want so much more.” 

“Oh yeah? What else do you want?” He grins.

“Take me home. Now.” 

“Ask nicely, baby” 

You huff “Take me home, Javi, please” 

He chuckles “Hungry little thing, what do you want me to do for you once we get home?” 

You sigh and then looking into his eyes defiantly whisper “I want you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I scream, I want the whole neighborhood to hear me. I want your cock pounding inside me all night”

He clicks his tongue and replies, “So cheeky asking me to take you home and fuck you while my cock is still inside you.”

“That’s what I want, do you think you can do that for me?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“Of course. You chose the right man for the job.” 

He slaps your ass before you stand up and fix your clothes as best you can. His jeans are completely covered in your juices and his cock still rock hard, you hope that no one is really there or they will notice what you have done.

“Here, put this around your waist,” you say, handing him your black cardigan. 

He looks down at his jeans, laughing. “Damn, you made a real mess. I think I’ll have to get rid of that chair, too.”

He wraps your cardigan around his waist so that the sleeves hang down the front, almost completely covering the dark, wet stain.

“Let’s get out of here” 

You take a deep breath, turning the doorknob down and looking out into the hallway, you look left and right and there doesn’t seem to be anyone “come on, let’s hurry” you say waving and he chuckles behind you. You walk out the door in silence, walking down the hallway to the front door.

You press the elevator button while he pinches your ass “stop it” you hiss. 

You enter the elevator, side by side, and as the doors are about to close, a hand reaches between them, stopping them. 

Your boss enters and looks at you in surprise. “Oh, you’re still here?” 

You’re screaming internally as you struggle to keep a poker face and reply calmly “Yes, of course. I had to work on that report and Javier offered to help me out.” 

Your boss nods, completely unaware. “Good, I expect it to be on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

You nod, lying, “yeah sure, definitely, it's practically over.” as you hear Javier stifle a laugh. 

You turn to give him a disapproving look as he covers his mouth and looks down to quell his giggles.

You arrive at the lobby in the longest elevator ride of your life.

“See you tomorrow then, have a good evening” Your boss says as soon as you three come out. 

“Good evening” you babble thanking God he didn't notice anything.

“Oh shit, that was a close call!” Javier laughs as soon as your boss gets in the car.

You slap him on his shoulder “does that sound funny to you? Come on, take me home and make me forget that I just risked losing my job”

“I can’t wait, honey,” he puts his arm around your waist as he walks you to his car. 

Sure, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you don’t know if it’s worth it but you can’t wait to ride him on a bed and forget your name too.

general tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @pedrostories 🌹

[narraboths]

“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

-

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

-

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

- 

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.) 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paradigm Shift 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You have one victory on your first day and it’s hardly that. Laufeyson and Barnes responded but it’s just more work to put on your plate. Now you have to go through and figure out how to balance it all. Well, it’s Friday and you can worry about all of that on Monday. 

You head out from the office. You have earned your prize. Drinks. And you’re not going to take it easy, even if Missie tells you to. 

You get there later than the others. You barely have enough time to get home and change out of your striped blouse. All you really did was switch out your blazer for a leather jacket. 

Georgie is nervous and glum. Her boss is taking her on an impromptu work trip. From what you’ve heard of the guy, he’s a real tool. You envy Izzie as she’s jumping out of planes instead of moping over an office desk. You’ll have to ask her how she got into that. 

Before you can put in your order for a double paloma, more tempted to just ask for a straight shot of tequila, a server appears with a tray of drinks. Ugh. You can see the sugar in the colour alone. 

“I don’t think that’s for us,” Elfie says before you can. 

“Some gentlemen sent them,” the server gestures behind her with her chin. 

She unload the tray as you strain to see the creeper buying a round for you. There’s always some loser buzzing around like a gnat. “God, I could use a tequila...” you mutter. 

“Who is that?” Rosie asks what you’re all thinking as a man waves and Dizzie waves back. You want to snatch her hand down. She can be so naive. 

“That’s my boss,” she explains and your throat locks up. You might just choke on your own damn tongue. 

You sit back down and hide your face between your hands. It can’t be but you’re certain at a glance. Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes. Did he see you too. 

“Shit, he’s with my boss!” You hiss. 

“Your boss?” Elfie leans in with concern. 

“One of them.” 

“And... is that... Mr. Rogers?” Rosie chimes. “What are the odds?” 

You lift your face and glare at her brightness. She might like her boss but you have been in hell all day. You can’t even begin to explain the shit pile you’ve been handed. Two bosses. Both eager to outdo the other’s assholery. 

“It’s so nice of them to send some drinks thought,” Dizzie says. 

Rosie agrees but Elfie has the sense to question it, “but why?” 

“I won’t deny a free drink..” Missie slurps. 

You ignore their chatter and raise your hand above the din. You signal to the server with a fraction of a smile. Fuck this apple bullshit. You need the hard stuff. 

The alcohol helps the night along but you can’t shake the presence across the bar. You’re paranoid. It’s too much of a coincidence. More so than Barnes being there but with Rosie and Dizzie’s bosses. You gues their type flock together. 

Still, you can’t quite shake it. You keep yourself to two palomas. You won’t risk making a single misstep. 

At the end of the night, you head off alone. Usually, you’d split a cab with Elfie but she left early, Georgie too. You yawn and bid goodbye to the rest. 

You dive out into the dark and tuck your hands into your pockets. The street is quiet as you step up to the curb. At this hour, it’s only cabs but you don’t see any lurking around. You head down the pavement in search of a ride. 

“Billie,” the deep timbre halts you. You blow out between your lips and turn to face Barnes. You're not surprised. 

“Mr. Barnes,” you greet. 

“Walking home alone?” He asks. 

“Trying to find a cab.” You spin back and raise your hand as a yellow car appears around the corner. 

“If you need a ride...” he offers. 

“No thank you.” You lean in as you flag the driver. He stops just a few feet away to pick up a group of guys. Shit. 

“I don’t mind.” He insists. 

You shake your head and cross your arms. You continue down the street. You don’t live that far. His footfalls echo yours. 

“You know, it wasn’t in the options but I do expect you to flash a smile or too,” he chirps as he comes parallel to you. 

“I’m not on the clock.” 

“No, you’re not. So how about another drink?” 

You scoff and stop. “I don’t mix my personal and professional life.” 

“All professional, doll. I’m just congratulating you on your new position.” He smirks as you glance over. 

“I gotta get home.” 

You walk on and he does too. You get to the corner and harrumph. You stop again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“With that kinda attitude, you’ll fit right in with Laufeyson.” 

You tilt your head as you consider your options. Keep going and lead him home or argue with him some more. Why can’t it just be over? 

“I can be a nice guy. You caught me on a bad day,” he says. 

“Look, I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes.” 

“We’re not at work. Bucky’s good.” 

“Mr. Barnes,” you repeat. “I’m tired. It was a long day, thank to you, and I need to go home and sleep. Let’s save the niceties for Monday. Please.” 

He considers you, his cheek dimpling. His blue eyes scan your grim expression. He snorts. 

“Huh, I think I misjudged you, doll.” He reaches to fix the floppy lapel of your jacket. “I really didn’t think you were that much of a tight ass. Guess I’ll just have to loosen it up.” He winks and pulls back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Be safe,” he turns on his heels, “don’t know what kinda creeps are hanging out around here.” 

He struts back towards the bar and you glare after him. Right. You’re dreading Monday even more. 

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

I loved the boss story. Would be cool to expand a part 2 with the reader and Nolan 👀

Please find Part 1 on my page!

---

Thanks, Boss! 2

The wedding reception had been wonderful. Kate's coworker had written an amazing, romantic speech about his bride to be that had admittedly brought her to tears. She blamed the hormones from recently having her quadruplets, but a part of her suspected it was a bit more than that.

Her boyfriend, Chris, had abandoned her at the dinner table to keep doing shots at the bar. Not that unusual from every night he was home with her, honestly.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

Kate looked up to see her attractive boss, Nolan. His broad shoulders filled out his suit nicely, but it was his warm smile that did it for her. She moved her purse from the chair next to her. "Not at all, please."

"I don't mean to sound inappropriate at all, being your boss and all. But you look absolutely stunning tonight, Kate."

Her cheeks heated.

She didn't have the heart to tell him what a nightmare it was trying to find a dress to contain her massive breasts; breastfeeding quadruplets had left her popping out of an M Cup on a good day, and the dress she wore tonight was barely hanging on. Even the nursing bra she wore underneath creaked, as if threatening to tear.

Worst off, she had pumped not long before getting to the wedding, but her breasts felt fuller by the minute.

Yet she never felt embarrassed about any of that when she was with him. Nolan had a calming and understanding presence about him that was genuine and made her feel safe.

The way a man ought to make his woman feel.

"Chris is a very lucky man." The comment sent a heat through Kate, and her breasts throbbed with fullness. Nolan tilted his head to the side. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At the bar, getting shots." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He doesn't seem to think he's so lucky. Tied down to a woman with four children, after all."

"His children."

Kate shrugged. "He doesn't care."

Nolan shook his head and raised his glass of pinot, gesturing for her to do the same. "Well, cheers to his knockout of a wife that he doesn't deserve."

She couldn't help but snicker. She cheered him with her own wine, and they both took a sip.

"He really doesn't know how damn lucky he is."

Kate looked back at her boss. His large brown eyes were deep, soulful, and a slight rouge glazed his cheeks. No wonder he was being so forward; he was a little intoxicated.

"He's not that lucky, Nolan..."

He shook his head. "I disagree."

Kate snorted and put her hands on her hips. The action jostled her breasts, and for the first time, she noticed her stoic, super polite boss stare down at them. Yet unlike when other men stared, she didn't want him to stop. His pupils dilated, which made her nipples harden with arousal, something she knew he could see through her thin nursing bra.

The longer he stared, the more she noticed how wet she was getting. She remembered just how much milk he had drank from the bottles in his office; would it be too much to want him to grab her breasts and feed right from the source? To want him to fill her with children?

Holy hell, she was horny for her boss!

Blushing, she tried to turn the thoughts by looking away. Still, his gaze was warm and inviting, and it felt awfully nice to be wanted by someone like him.

"How do you figure Chris is lucky?"

Nolan took a gentle sip from his glass. "For starters, his girlfriend has what have to be the most perfect breasts in the world. Massive pillows of comfort with enough milk in her to feed her family and an entire orphanage."

Kate couldn't help but feign offense. "An orphanage?!"

He was right of course; as it was, she could feel the nursing bra she was wearing digging tighter and tighter as she filled up with more and more milk. Blue veins pulsed the surface, begging her to nurse or pump, or else the tight red dress she was in was going to be dripping. Yet she couldn't help but stare back as Nolan continued.

"You donate your excess milk to children in need at hospitals because you adore kids. If the hormones you give off all the time are to be trusted, you want a hell of a lot more of them, too."

Right again. Her cheeks flushed. "I want to have like... eight..."

A playful, almost naughty smile played upon his lips. "Eight kids, or eight more kids?"

Good God, with how lusty his voice was, she didn't know anymore.

"If it were me," Nolan continued, "I wouldn't have made my girlfriend who just gave birth to quadruplets go back to work unless she wanted to. I would have made sure she and our kids had everything they needed while we continued to build our family with plenty of breastfed children. And, as long as she was okay with it, I would make sure she was always pregnant."

Oh fuck. Kate tried crossing her legs to hide the fact that her panties were soaked as she stifled a moan. Her breasts felt so incredibly tight in the bra and dress, it was hard to breathe.

"I can't lie, seeing you pregnant at work was a massive distraction for me, Kate. You're like a fertility goddess tantalizing me, because I know I can't have you anywhere close to how much I want you."

Suddenly, with the sound of two snaps and a slight tearing sound, Kate lurched forward under the weight of her breasts as she let out a moan.

Looking down at them, she realized the clasps on her nursing bra must have broken completely under all the extra weight of her engorged breasts. And when they did, her cleavage came spilling out, and her dress had ripped to make more space for her massive mammaries.

But she didn't care. Her nipples were hard from arousal, and the dark pink meat from her areolas were spilling out from the dress. Everything Nolan had said excited her, and her body was ready.

"I knew you were looking a little full." He smirked, but stared down at her breasts affectionately. "Do you want my jacket to cover up?"

She shook her head and got to her feet, her freed breasts jostling and audibly sloshing around the milk. She took his hand and pulled, leading him away from the table, ignoring the stares she got from others who had noticed her dress mishap.

"Everything okay?"Nolan asked once they had gotten to the parking lot.

Kate nodded, the action finally making one of her nipples pop out. Cherry red and dripping, she knew her boss would stare, and she was right.

"I choose you."

"Hmm?"

"I am so horny, Nolan. For you, for that life that you want. I need you to get me pregnant. I need you to keep getting me pregnant, even if it means twenty or thirty kids." There was no room for embarrassment anymore. She pressed her massive leaking breasts against his chest and looked up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

He took her engorged mammaries in his hands and gently massaged them. Each time his fingers hit a gland, a spurt of milk dampened his shirt until he was near soaked.

"Poor thing, you're so full..." He leaned down and lapped at the small river her breast had made as Kate let out a load moan. "Did you need me to nurse on them while I fuck you in the car?"

----

🐮❤️

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Protect and Serve (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Protect and Serve

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

GothCon is finally here! Will Y/n have a fun and fantastic time or will her lifelong dream be shattered by her past?

author's note:

The wait is over!!! For four long months I left my loves hanging, well no longer! Chaos is back in business and I give you another pivotal dream turned into a chapter. Buckle up loves. We’re nearing the end.

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

The dark gloomy skyline of Gotham was dramatically highlighted by a heavy downpour of rain. Longtime residents weren’t phased by the constant shower and Cindy was no different.  

She walked into a local restaurant, shaking out her umbrella before setting it into a cubby. This place would not have been her first choice, but Barbara insisted the menu was worth the long commute. Either way, Cindy pulled her gloves off as she reached the table. 

The young lady sitting in a decked-out wheelchair was too engrossed on her phone to notice the businesswoman waiting to be acknowledged. “Barbara.” Cindy’s long nails tapped twice on the table surface, finally getting the woman’s attention. 

She locked her phone and looked up, “Hey! You made it!”  

Cindy hummed and sat down opposite of Barbara. A waiter came over to place a drink order and offer an appetizer. 

With the order set, Cindy enlaced her fingers together. “Now, let’s get to the matter at hand. Wait, where’s Morgana?” She noticed there were four chairs at this table and two were empty.  

“She’s running a bit late, something about a high priority client requesting her last minute. Did you message Florence?” Barbara asked from across the table.  

Cindy rolled her light brown eyes and brushed off the question. Not like she cared that much for the loud beautician anyway. “She didn’t reply when I messaged her. I’m assuming she’s still giving us all the silent treatment. Whatever for.” 

Barbara however was more concerned. “Has anyone heard from her since the whole fiasco at Y/n’s?” 

It seemed like ages ago when barely two weeks had passed since your family dinner turned into a disaster.  

Florence stormed out of your apartment and effectively put the girls on silent treatment. A few days of no contact was normal after a misunderstanding like this, but Florence was being petty now. A mess was an understatement to describe it all, although it was the least of Cindy’s worries.  

“No, and I do not care about Florence and her attitude. My focus is on Y/n. My publishing partner hid his past sexual harassment charges from me and the board. I found him in my office with Y/n and...” 

“He did WHAT?!” Barbara half whispered screamed. Her green eyes were wider than the saucers on the table.  

Cindy sighed, “Y/n won’t talk about it, she just avoids the situation with the excuse of GothCon preparations being more important. That’s why I called you. I thought you would know more information being closer to her and all.”  

“I’m no help. These days..” Barbara looked at the rain running down the windows, “None of us are close with Y/n. It's like we barely know her at all.” 

Cindy arched an eyebrow at the ominous words. “Why does it feel like I’m out of the loop? Just because I work all the time doesn’t mean I’m not a part of the girl boss square circle!” 

It was Barbara’s turn to be confused. “Wait, she didn’t tell you? I assumed since you knew Y/n from Blüdhaven and all, that you knew already.” 

“Can you stop avoiding the fact and tell me?” 

“It’s not my place to say.” Barb wavered, but Cindy was quick to dispel the feeling. “How bad can it be?” She countered.  

Barbara winced and started typing in her notes app what she was too afraid to say aloud. Once she was done, she slid the device across the table for Cindy to read.  

Her face was a slab of stone as she read the horrors on the digital screen. Nothing could have prepared her for this.  

Cindy cleared her throat as she passed the phone back. She blinked up at the ceiling to conceal the tears that threatened to escape.  

“Everything makes sense now.” She fiddled with her earrings when the waiter arrived with appetizers and kind smiles.  

Nothing was said as they set plates and cutlery down onto the table. “Did anyone know about this?” Cindy hissed once they were out of earshot. 

“Uh no? We recently learned about it at Y/n’s dinner party. Flo sorta kinda kickstarted the panic attack that revealed it. Y/n’s parents told me, Morgana, Dick, and Bruce.” Barbara pushed her food around on the plate as silence fell over the table.  

Cindy was the one to break it.  

“I remember Y/n having some type of accident several months before she moved to Gotham. It halted her onboarding process, but she never mentioned anything about it afterwards. She just jumped right into writing and releasing books. She was like a machine, you know? I thought it was jitters of being a new author wanting to prove herself. I did not know about..”  

Cindy pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. “I’m her manager, I should have noticed that something was wrong!”  

Barbara couldn’t blame her Cindy for reacting in such a way.  

None of your friends noticed anything either. Your aversions, the incessant need for privacy. They were oblivious to it all. You only wanted peace and quiet and they hounded you relentlessly, treating you more like a child than a friend.  

Now was not the time to be moping around about the past. It was time to act before you spiraled into a hole no one would be able to dig you out of.  

You were already a trigger away from snapping.  

Cindy must’ve read Barb’s thoughts. “GothCon starts next week. I can only image how overwhelmed Y/n already is on top of preparations.” 

“So, what do we do?” Barbara asked.  

She didn’t want to add more unnecessary stress to your plate, but at this point, some friendly interference could help you in the long run. You could use an intervention, therapy even! Or was it the right thing to honor your wishes and let you suffer in silence?  

By the time the two women came to a decision, it was already too late to act.  

It was finally here. One of your lifelong goals as a writer.  

Gotham Con was an esteemed event for any content creator. One week filled with their work being celebrated and on display surrounded by likeminded individuals. You planned this event for months (honestly, years) and now the week before the huge event had arrived.  

With the constant online notifications from excited fans to organizers sending you confirmation emails and last-minute preparation checklists—you were quite literally, losing it. 

And Joker had a front row seat to the impending panic attack. You were neck deep in your computer, fingers typing away at the speed of sound, and you hardly took the time to eat or take any breaks in between prep work. 

Joker was reminded of the first week he invaded your life. You had the same mindset; nothing but work on the brain. Somehow you forgot a wanted fugitive was in your home then and ironically, now.  

He missed those days when it was just you and him cooped up indoors.  

No distractions. No drama.  

Today was the opposite. You were on a conference call with who knows who discussing something that went over his head. He could appreciate the entire event better after catching a glimpse of the behind-the-scenes effort needed to make it all happen.  

“No. No, I requested an hour presentation months ago..” You dug through a folder with papers until one held the info you needed. “Ma’am, I think I have higher priority over a completed web series. Let’s be real.” 

Joker sat back on the couch to watch his Bunny stand up for herself.  

He enjoyed your stubborn pouts when the person on the phone said something stupid. He treated the ordeal as if it were a blockbuster movie and not your carefully thought-out plans unraveling at the seams. He understood firsthand how it felt, however; you managed to always turn things around.  

You made arguing with someone on the phone entertaining, or rather J was just infatuated with you. He secretly loved when you were angry, just not at him.  

You were a pretty thing regardless of your mood.  

Times like this, Joker was reminded of just how lucky he was to have met you. How did he survive for so long without your light in his life? He didn’t, that’s how.  

He was still daydreaming when you ended the call and let out a deep spiritual sigh. You wanted to count to ten and scream at number four.  

Then you spotted your lover staring at you with that dopey look you had grown to love. You wished you could reciprocate that feeling. Hopefully Joker knew how much you cared about him without saying those magical three words.  

For now, you could give him an excuse for ruining his cuddle time.  

“Sorry, the event manager couldn't find my invoice and threatened to take me off the schedule—a week before the con! I feel like everything is going wrong for no reason.” you sighed.  

You groaned all way over to Joker’s lap where he yanked you down to restore your previous seat.  

The giant tv on the wall was muted with the picture still going. Neither of you could remember what y’all were watching before being interrupted.  

Joker could care less. You weren’t paying it any attention anyways and Joker was thankful since his most recent misdeed was currently being broadcasted on the breaking news.  

His goons were swift with their security reports. You had another episode at your publisher’s office and a certain Thomas J. Ford was the trigger. Joker didn’t need to know the details. In fact, all J knew was that you came home with dried tears on your face and way too quiet to be considered fine.  

He got you cleaned up, fed, and tucked into bed before he did what he did best.  

Create chaos.  

And now the news was airing the fool’s unfortunate ‘car crash’ that led to his death.  

Joker snorted. The fire would erase all the torture he inflicted on the man who dared to make his Goddess cry. Joker took pleasure hearing every cry of pain that Thomas created. He squealed like a pig the second Joker mentioned your name.  

‘I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear! I’m so sorry.’ 

It was too late for apologizes. Joker knew men like Thomas would not learn. Hurting and harassing women was just a pass time to them. Joker took it upon himself to prevent this from ever happening again to anyone. You’d been through enough already. Joker proved he could be your silent protector. He would always protect you. 

No amount of soap could remove the blood from his hands. He kissed the crown of your head while his tainted hands rubbed soothing shapes on your back.  

You were nodding off from all of J’s soft touches but a faint buzzing from your phone, roused you back awake.  

His eyes glanced at the device on the coffee table, “Leave it, Bun. It’s nothin.’” He should have known you wouldn’t listen to his orders. You never did.  

“It could be Delilah with the VIP passes.” 

“Who?” How did you memorize every person you spoke with? He lost count already.  

“It doesn’t matter who, lemme see.” You squirmed in his hold that only tightened the more you rebelled. He did not want you turning around and your gaze landing on the tv, so he made up excuses.  

“Aht aht. You promised to re-lax with meeeee. No phones, no plannin’ from either of us.” 

You were quick with the side eye, “You can’t go an hour without planning something.” His scarred face cracked in a genuine smile from being called out. His brain never shut off. Joker was scheming right now.  

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan?” 

All you did was roll your eyes.  

Joker moved slowly so you could feel his hands cup your face. “My Bunny’s been running like a chicken with her uhh.. head cuT off. I do have a plan if! you’re up for it.”  

“Here we go” you started but Joker silenced you with a playful boop to your nose. He really had to stop doing that. It made you jump every time.  

“Listennnn Bunny. You’ve been stressed lately, hm? So! I was thinK-ing.. I cash in on that err.. promise I made ya. You remember. The night ya neverrr forget?”  

He smiled at your bashful reaction. “Yeah, my pretty girl remembers. Why don’tcha leave all the planning to me and leT me spoil ya. Prett-Y please?” 

How could you deny J when he looked so irresistible? He forewent makeup today giving you a perfect view of the constellations of freckles that adorned his skin. Those vibrant eyes of his were like pools of emerald sucking you in. You could blindly trust this clown and that fact scared you tremendously. 

“F-Fine but nothing too crazy. I still have to work you know.”  

Joker made a funny noise while drumming his fingers down your back. “Mm, is flying ya out the state too crazy?”  

You knew he was being serious by how he avoided eye contact with you. He burst out laughing seeing your troubled expression. No doubt, you were remembering his terrifying flying skills. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding sweetheart.” He purred. He was lying right through his teeth and the both of you knew it. Joker never did things halfway. Over the top and meticulously planned was his signature. “Sheesh, you really are stressed.” He mumbled to himself.  

The steady downpour outside briefly caught his attention. Gotham City was saturated with rain and for once, Joker had no intention of wreaking havoc on the city. He wanted nothing more to stay indoors with his Light and pass the time together doing everything and nothing.  

The simple act of holding you and watching the rain hit the glass roof was enough to satisfy J.  

You called his name, hoping to regain his attention. And just like that, Joker’s intense green eyes were on you. “Do I have time to squeeze in a nap?” you shyly asked. That last business call really took a lot out of you and J took pity on the cute little yawns you tried to mask. 

“Duh! My Goddess can sleep for as loooong as she wants. I won’t move a muscle.”  

“Can you um...” your voice trailed off as your insecurities kicked in. Naturally, Joker noticed it.  

He leaned his head down to urge you to speak up. “What was that, doll?” J had an idea of what you wanted judging by your hooded eyes, but he wanted to hear you say it.  

A closed mouth would not get fed, or however the saying went.  

“Can you keep r-rubbing my back? I-It feels good.” You blurted out. This man had done far more intimate acts with your body but asking him to rub your back is what made you flustered?  

Quiet moments like this with J put a spotlight on his rare soft side. He was shockingly a great cuddler and he was always in tune with your needs. You couldn’t ask for a better partner.  

Wait. Partner?  

Your brain went into overdrive overthinking that one insignificant word. Partner. Is that how you viewed Joker? Did he feel the same?  

He was obvious to your thoughts, but he could tell you were doing some heavy thinking. You were biting your poor lip raw. You couldn’t help stressing yourself out.  

He chuckled while wordlessly obeying your request.  

Joker took a deep breath, before he began moving his hands up and down your back in shapes that only he could decipher. Joker ran like a furnace, not like you minded. Your apartment ran a little cold during rainy mornings. The benefits of living in an old penthouse you assumed. At least having J around saved on your heating bill.  

The steady beat of Joker’s heart was like a lullaby in your ear as you gradually fall asleep in his arms. There was no safer place in Gotham than here with him. You were dozing off in record time.  

Oh, the trust you gave never failed to surprise him.  

Despite your dark past, you opened up and let him see you. Laid bare, broken, and raw, he got to see it all. You let The Joker of all people, know you so intimately. It was the greatest honor.  

Joker wanted to give you the world in return. His sweet Light, who took on so much weight on your too little shoulders.  

You gave him permission to execute his plans, and his goons were on standby to make it happen. Joker put this off for way too long. He picked up his phone and quickly sent off a message.  

‘We’re a go.’ 

How you managed to sleep through the countless door slams and frequent bustling throughout your apartment was a testament to just how exhausted you were.  

Joker saw how much energy you were putting into the final preparations for GothCon but you were running yourself ragged doing so. You more than deserved a break. He planned to spoil you the night he drove you to Blüdhaven, yet outside interference ruined his plans.  

Tonight’s reattempt was nowhere near the elaborate affair Joker originally had planned, but it’ll do. He promised you that he would not go too crazy.  

He half listened.  

In the end, your afternoon nap morphed into an evening one and the smell of something divine inevitably lured you awake. Your hair was all over the place (what possessed you not to wear a bonnet?) and droll was most likely dried on your chin. It was a good idea to freshen up but that smell was just too irresistible to ignore. The penthouse was dark and so was the kitchen as you sat up.  

Your eyes were still adjusting but J was nowhere to be found. And he wouldn’t move a muscle, he said. “J?”  

Your voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings. You secretly hoped he didn’t leave to go out and terrorize the city.  

It wouldn’t be the first time he left you hanging without a goodbye. Regardless, you were hungry, and your stomach cried out, demanding that you find the source of the food you smelled.  

The rainstorm had stopped, giving the city a reprieve for the night. Your sunroom’s glass doors were wide open, and you could see the balcony’s string lights casting a glow from your vantage point on the living room couch. What was Joker up to? 

Without knowing the full picture, you knew your Prince of Crime was responsible.  

You toed on a pair of house slippers and shuffled towards the balcony where the sight wiped the last dregs of sleep away.  

“Tada!” Joker was standing in the middle of a picturesque romcom scene as proud as ever.  

Your eyes did not know where to look.  

Candles and the balcony’s string lights softened the gloomy Gotham City skyline in the background. Somehow Joker found a round dinner table and threw a crisp white tablecloth, more candles, and a vase of your favorite flowers on top of it.  

You knew Morgana’s work from anywhere.  

Her locally grown petals were scattered on the balcony, some being swept by the nighttime breeze. But the best part of all was Joker dressed in a cozy sweater and slacks. You never seen him look so... homey. He made you feel underdressed with your sleep tossed curls and frumpy sweats.  

By how Joker stared at you, what you wore was the least of his concerns. You just woke up and he thought you looked heavenly.  

“Do ya li-ke it, doll?” Joker walked over and wiped a tear from your cheek. You didn’t realize that you were crying. He didn’t mention it either.  

“Your uh, dinner is gettin’ cold. Here.” Joker took your hand and guided you over to the table with the ease of a gentleman.  

He let you sit and pushed you into the table with a low chuckle. You were speechless. Joker was a master organizer, but this looked like it should have taken a day to collaborate, not a couple of hours.  

"How did you do all of this? I took a nap, right? I didn’t oversleep and skip a day?”  

Joker smirked and lifted the metal covers off the plates. Your eyes widened at the steaming entrée that greeted you. Your stomach sang out in glee.  

“Mmh. I’d be hungry too if my owner didn’t. Eat. All. Day.” Joker sent you a sharp glare for your oversight. You were working too hard and forgotten to eat. Again.  

“Sorry.” you mumbled. Joker just rolled his eyes and gestured to the food. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up a fork and dug in, and immediately cooed at the burst of flavor.  

“Did you cook this?!”  

“What? Shocked a white boy can cook?” you almost spat out your food at Joker’s comment. He wasn’t bothered and stabbed a vegetable with his fork, inspecting it closely. “If you must know, I had some uhh... assistance.” He flung the veg over the balcony edge while you weren’t looking.  

You were too caught up in the moment to notice.  

“Yeah, I can tell you called Morgana for flowers.” You smiled at the flower spread surrounding you. He grunted, giving away the answer. You were happy with Joker’s growth. He was learning, slowly but surely, how to interact with others. He still hated people; he just tolerated them for your sake.  

It gave you the idea that he hired a chef. He surprised you that one time by cooking pancakes, but J said it himself, “at least I can feed myself without burning the apartment down." 

There was no way he could have pulled off this fancy dinner on his own. “I didn't know you could this good.” you said, poking around for answers.  

You did not need to know how many times Joker almost burned the food.  

The private chef that he hired offered to cook the meal and give Joker all the credit but that wouldn’t do. J wanted you to eat something that he made, that he provided for you. It was a primal instinct he wanted to act on.  

Joker just needed an expert to spot his work. The three hours and countless death threats to the chef were worth seeing your blinding smile with each bite you took.  

You didn’t seem to notice the too charred vegetables or the grainy sauce, maybe you did and ate it anyway. Joker was happy to see you clear your plate, and he loved watching your childlike excitement as he brought out dessert.  

“It's beautiful, J!” You almost didn’t want to eat the work of art.  

Now this he had to come clean about. “I uhhh..I didn’t make this. Gotta leave some things to ahh, ex-perTs.” 

You sank your spoon into the confit, smirking. “I know, J.” You knew your man didn’t have the patience to make such a confection.  

He eyed your tongue darting out to collect the sugar from your lips. He almost didn’t hear your question. Almost. 

“Aww, don’t worry about me doll. I can find something to do while you’re away. A robbery. A couple of murders. Messin’ with Bats..” 

“I’m serious Joker. I don’t want you moping around the apartment or out causing chaos while I’m at Con.” 

Joker had the right to look offended. “Me? I would never!” 

“Moping around or being a menace?” You challenged.  

J smiled into his bite of dessert. It was his turn to make you all hot and bothered. His moan of delight sounded too suggestive for a harmless dessert. Watching him lick his spoon clean felt like an X rated show. Joker and that devilish tongue of his...  

You cleared your throat. “W-Whatever, you better not get caught while I’m gone.” 

Joker hummed in the intimate air. “You ready for next week?” He regretted asking you the second you groaned and dropped your spoon.  

“Yes? No? Physically I am, but there’s so much I want to say and not enough time to say it in! What if my fans hate my presentation?” Your lower lip wobbled just thinking about it.  

The sight alone had Joker reacting to pacify it.  

“Bunny. No. They won’t hate it. Uhh, remember? I’m your biggest fan? and I would love anything you present. Aht aht. I mean it. They didn’t see how you ‘perfected’ that video a bajillion time and practiced your speech till ya voice went hoarse. I have. Sooooo, I mean it when I say, they’ll love iT. I’ll kill anyone who doesn’t.” He grumbled the last sentence, yet you heard the honesty in his voice.  

“You can’t go around murdering all my haters, J.” 

He arched an eyebrow in denial. “Who says I can’t?”  

Fair point. Not even you could stop Joker from a killing spree once he put his mind to it. Although you could try and compromise with the sadistic clown. “Promise me you won’t go awol?”  

The request went right over J’s head. “What-everrrrr ya say, Bun. Now! Who’s ready for a distraction?” He spotted your empty dessert bowl and wanted to skip to tonight’s main event. He was excited to see your reaction.  

You were curious when Joker helped you out of your seat, cut the lights—plunging the balcony into darkness before pulling you into his lap on the patio couch.  

The nearby Fashion District usually offered up ample lighting, however tonight, its glow was nonexistent. You didn’t like the sea of darkness surrounding you. Joker instantly noticed you tensing up.  

He kissed you on the cheek while pointing up at the night sky. “Watch.” He sent a quick text as you grew more confused.  

“Watch what? It’s pitch black out.” Then you heard it. The first of many canons going off until color invaded the sky. It was a beautiful display of controlled chaos.  

Fireworks in Gotham City.  

Your eyes widened as each shell became more and more elaborate. You couldn’t tell where they were being shot from, but the fact that Joker organized them was touching.  

You told him once in passing you missed the illegal firework shows back in Blüdhaven.  

They were a big deal in your neighborhood growing up. Everyone pitched in money to buy the banned goods. Living in a dense city made setting them off virtually impossible and the police cracked down on the annual tradition harder each year until it ended altogether. 

Joker ever so observant, must’ve planned to set off fireworks in Blüdhaven when the two of you visited. When he did things like this, you forgot all about the psychopathic murderer he truly was.  

A dud went off and you took that time to lean back and kiss Joker. “Thank you.”  

He pretended like it wasn’t a big deal and shrugged off your emotions bubbling up to the surface. You blinked back the happy tears and returned your gaze back to the colorful night sky.  

Joker circled his arms around you, pleased at a successful mission.  

He wanted you to view the fireworks in your childhood neighborhood all dolled up and pretty, but this was still a night you’ll never forget.  

His Goddess tucked safely in his arms, well fed, and happy. What more could he ask for? He’d never forget this either.  

The final fireworks seemed bigger than the sky itself.  

A technicolor canon went off in an extravagant explosion that you knew cost an arm and leg. Definitely imported. One flame diverted its course and set a building alit, but you didn’t see that. Your eyes were glued to the finale canon that went off like a war zone before ending with you and J’s initials inside a heart.  

You didn’t realize how quiet it was until the fireworks stopped. Gotham City was eerily quiet even for a weeknight.  

The smell of sulfur was still heavy in the air as you turned around to face J.  

“Joker that was...!” Your words died out as you locked eyes with your lover.  

All the malice he gave the world melted from his eyes and the remains was pure adoration fixated on you. He looked possessed. High. And his scarred lips spreading into a lop-sided smile didn’t help clear his innocence. 

“Have I told ya that before?” Joker mumbled. 

You didn’t know what he was on about. You silently shook your head in the negative.  

Joker’s smitten gaze hardened as he swallowed. You were shocked to see two extreme emotions alter his face so quickly, but you were patient to hear what this clown had to say. 

“Tell me what?” You caressed his cheek, feeling the scar tissue with your thumb until J grabbed your hand. He didn’t break eye contact as he kissed each of your fingers.  

“I.. I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I do you.”  

You knew Joker was serious. He didn’t stress a single word. He said the most romantic confession and brushed it off the second he realized you were frozen in shock.  

Joker knew you were healing and dropping love bombs wasn’t ideal—but he couldn’t help it! The phrase fell from his lips because it was the truth. He never felt this way before and if he didn’t say it aloud, he just might actually go insane.  

He didn’t expect you to respond. His heart was fine with your silence because the single tear running down your cheek told him you felt the same. 

For now, he could handle a little rejection even it wasn’t intentional. He stood with a flourish and offered you his hand to take.  

“Whaddya say I get my Light to bed? No more stressin’ ya got it? I want these next few days to be... re-lax-ing.”   

You would try, just to see Joker smiling the way he was right now— like all was right in the world, a world where his Light was the center axis.  

True to Joker’s word, he kept you stress free the days leading up to GothCon.  

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger. It was just like the first months with Joker hiding away in your apartment. Just the two of you against the world. You didn’t turn on the tv, Joker turned off his phone or rather, it was off when you were looking. He still had a criminal empire to run no matter how good his intentions were with his Bunny.  

He thanked you for being naïve as he finalized his own preparations for the fated GothCon behind your back. 

He would be busy as well. Everything had to go smoothly behind the scenes for your week to be successful. Which led him to the morning of. 

A sunny day in Gotham was coveted as good luck. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn but that didn’t stop Joker from knowing what time it was. Your phone almost woke you up with an alarm. Not an ideal way to start a, no doubt, stressful day.  

Joker had more pleasant ways to wake up his girl.  

You were already lying on your back, looking so innocent in your slumber. Joker almost felt bad for doing this. Almost.  

His sinister grin disappeared underneath the bedsheets until he arrived right where he needed to be. He slowly parted your thighs to reveal the goldmine between them. Joker licked his lips just thinking about the taste.  

There was a reason why he nicknamed you sugar. He didn’t waste any time diving into his dessert. 

You woke up with a jolt followed by a shudder running down your spine. The odd sensation wouldn’t go away until you felt pressure down there.... 

Despite it feeling absolutely amazing, your first instinct was to kick the offender away—that is, until worn calluses you knew from anywhere, rubbed soothing patterns on your warm skin to calm you down. In that same moment, you yanked the sheets back to reveal Joker’s wild bed head between your legs.  

Joker was caught red handed and he didn’t care.  

His green eyes were glazed over as he laved at your clit with a cheeky, “M’ning sweet thing. So sweet..”  

It was like your pleasure finally registered. You fisted the sheets with a choked moan as it hit you like a tidal wave.  

Joker’s encouraging groans sent little tremors throughout your cunt and he didn’t let you squirm away.  

His hands kneaded your hips like an avid baker, keeping you right where he wanted you. He knew where to squeeze, how to use his tongue, and exactly when to flick your clit just right to make you explode.  

Your poor bonnet slipped off with all the thrashing you were doing but Joker had you going through it. His venom green eyes pierced your soul as he sucked it right out of your body.  

Even when you grew sensitive and began to tap out, Joker shook his head, not letting go of his tasty morsel. He loved feeling your thighs suffocating him as another powerful orgasm washed over you. He wasn’t stopping. If he died, then so be it. 

“J, p-please..” you twitched when Joker licked your pussy like a lolly pop. You could already hear his stupid rhetoric jab, ‘how many licks does it take to get to the center?’ 

One, two... 

You couldn’t take anymore and shoved Joker’s head away but it was too late.  

Your third and final release got tangled up in your throat and it left your face all tingly as a result. Every inhale you took prolonged the throbbing inferno and if it were possible to see clearly, Joker’s face dripping with your juices would have really made you pass out.  

He sat up and sucked his fingers clean while watching you fight your way back to Earth.  

Your hand over your heart did a whole lotta nothing to calm it. 

Everything was times a hundred on the sensory scale. Joker just smirked and helped you down by lightly drawing on your exposed skin with his pinky finger.  

J knew you were back when you sank your nails into his hair. He needed to wash it if he had plans on going out. “What was that for?” You panted.  

As if he needed a reason to bless you with a good morning, Joker gasped in faux disbelief. “Uhh? Today’s the day! You ready to meet your a-bore-ring fans?”  

And just like that, your mood evaporated.  

You groaned straight into a pillow until Joker snatched it away with a sly grin. “Need n’other distraction?” He used his fingers to ‘walk’ up your hip. You were tempted. You still couldn’t feel your legs... 

But you refused to be afraid. “You can’t distract me forever, J.” You flung the covers back and wobbled onto your feet. “Easy there, doll.” Joker teased. 

You ignored his wheezing laughter to check on the outfit you set out the night before.  

You wanted to look your best to feel your best. Large crowds, screaming fans, and tight spaces; your poor social bar was going to be put to the test this week. Day one would set the mood for the entire event, and you wanted it to be perfect.  

There was no room for error when the event would be highly documented via live streams and other media. 

The colorful ensemble Joker helped pick out flowed through your fingers as you inspected for any possible spots. “I wish you could come with me.” you sighed and headed towards the bathroom. “Oh well.”  

Joker snorted when you disappeared into the bathroom to begin getting ready. He was already twelve steps ahead of you.  

You left Joker at the penthouse well before the sun started to rise. Today was a big day and there was no time to waste.  

You arrived at your designated booth to the sight of Cindy and her new assistant, Noah, bustling around. Noah was the first to spot you and his sweet sigh of relief made you laugh as you handed him coffee.  

“Bless you for this!” He downed the large cup in a matter of seconds. Sometimes Gen Z truly scared you.  

Your concerned gaze shifted to Cindy who was talking to two men, pointing to where you taped off a natural line for fans to queue. They nodded and started setting up the rope barriers.  

The last of your booth decor was being put into place while two helpers from Cindy’s office were arranging your books in a neat but approachable, display.  

The meet and greet photo booth was taking shape nearby and you loved how the art you commissioned a fan to create turned out. It was all coming together.  

All that was left was the people.  

An officiant walked by an hour later brandishing a bullhorn. “Doors open in fifteen! Please be at your designated areas in fifteen minutes. Thank you.”  

Cue your panic attack.  

Cindy spotted it and ran over. She pressed your face with blotting paper and offered you a water bottle. “Y/n.... deep breaths, okay? These are your loyal fans. You were born ready for this. Natural smiles, calm demeanor, and a steady hand. Repeat that.” 

“Repeat what?”  

She pinched her nose, sighing.  

Cindy wouldn’t be able to hover over you all morning; that was Noah’s job. The new intern would blend right in with the crowd’s demographic and offer you some moral support while Cindy took care of the networking aspect of things.  

You could use all the support you could get to survive to the afternoon presentation.  

Cindy was smart to schedule it later on in the day in an attempt to help build up some courage for you. It beat presenting bright and early like other seasoned GothCon headliners were doing.  

It was all too much to think about. Then you remembered Cindy patiently waiting for a response.  

“I’ll be fine.” You rehearsed your panic signals. Overwhelmed. I need a break. Abort. You could escape all by fiddling with your earrings or sharpie. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to those extremes.  

You waved Cindy away and sat up tall, right as the announcer came over the convention center speakers welcoming everyone to this year’s GothCon.  

Strangely enough, your face broke out into a genuine smile when curious, and ecstatic, fans started to pour into the building. Perhaps you would be fine after all.  

You were handing a special Braille edition to a young girl when you spotted the next person in line. “Will!” you waved at the twelve-year old and his group of friends.  

They were quite shocked when you stood up to hug William like a close friend.  

It wasn’t time for meet and greets and you knew the line of fans were giving the preteen a mean jealous glare. “You made it!!” You beamed.  

“Haha yeah.. Thanks for the scoring us the tickets btw. Your hands are healed!” Will clapped them, earning a laugh out of you.  

So much had happened in your life since meeting the little Brit. Joker cutting your hands seemed like the least of your worries.  

You held your silver sharpie like a wand. “Yes, all healed which means... do you really need another signed copy?”  

Will took offense. He held up his special edition copy as if it explained itself. It did. There was only a few thousand floating around due to the hand painted edges and embossed crest on the sleek hardcover. Another collaboration with a talented fan of yours at work.  

“Y/n, I’m hurt.” He didn’t have to call you out like that.  

“Okay, okay.. I’ll sign your special edition, geez.” You took your time swooping the letters of your name and emphasizing the swirls that lead to your drawn heart. You loved your Avant Garde signature. No one could replicate it.  

Will stood to the side as you signed his three friends copies and made light conversation.  

They asked how you knew Will so closely and you boosted the boy’s ego by telling them the truth. Not everyone got to have their favorite author show up at their doorstep for dinner.  

You hoped Will would overcome his social anxiety and flourish with his new friends. You saw so much of your younger self in him.  

You handed your book back to Will’s friend. “Oh, don’t forget to stay for my segment! It’s after the meet and greet block.”  

Noah cleared his throat as he walked by your booth, signaling you spent too much time with William and his friends. You winced and waved them off to greet the next fan in line.  

You didn’t understand why you were so nervous earlier.  

Interacting with your fans came naturally to you after the first few awkward minutes. Sure, you messed up a signature or two, no one cared as long as they got a signed copy.  

Once the autograph line diminished a bit, coordinators guided you over to the big photo shoot area you had set up.  

There the bulk of your nerves came out. Talking about your books and signing them was one thing, taking pictures was where you panicked. The constant flashing light did something to you mentally. 

Case in point, a pair of twins were spouting their theories about a fourth WHB book when they surprised you by taking out their personal cell phones.  

The prohibited flash caught you off guard and you jumped back, feeling an episode kicking in.  

Water rushed in your ears, and it made their concerned, ‘are you okay? sound miles away. Did you nod? Did you touch your earring? Who knows. You needed a minute and neither Noah or Cindy was around to rescue you.  

What if someone was filming and posted your panic attack on social media? Cindy’s PR team would murder you.. So many worries piled on and threatened to topple you over.  

You had to be seeing things.  

In your panic scan for an exit, your eyes caught the sight of green in the crowd. Like a light switch, your heartbeat calmed. The stacked noise of background conversations and music rushed back. You were above the water and steady on your feet.  

That slight glimpse grounded you.  

“Omg Y/n? Are you like, okay? I hope I didn’t offend you!” One of the twins said.  

You sent her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, the um.. flash must’ve—Hunter is very much alive. I can’t kill off the eye candy!”  

That got them both to squealing (and diverted the curious eyes away from you) and just like that, the next person was stepping up for their twenty minutes. You hugged and exchanged pleasantries, but your mind was elsewhere.  

You couldn’t shake the sight out of your head. Was Joker really in the crowd or were you seeing things? It wouldn’t be the first time you hallucinated him.  

“—and I’m so happy you’re so inclusive with your stories! I just love you!”  

This current fan was dressed in an elaborate cosplay from some manga you’ve seen once or twice. It was interesting to see how diverse people were with literature. Your novels were a far cry from comics, yet you still had a place here at GothCon.  

Mind blowing. And more so, the turnout you got was insane.  

Noah must’ve seen how you were struggling with this current fan.  

They stuck to character and spoke just like them, making understanding them a bit of a challenge. Noah stepped in with his own bubbly persona.  

“Hi! Love the cosplay girl, but I gotta wrap this up. Attention everyone! Please join us in 2A for our big surprise after lunch! Yes, Room 2A!” 

He grabbed your hand and whisked you away before you could utter a single goodbye.  

“Noah!” You weren’t upset, more like impressed. 

He ushered you into the designated staff area in no time. “I am not missing out on lunch. Cindy promised catering.” 

Both of you shared a look. “Of course she did.” 

How the businesswoman got piping hot food from your favorite restaurant in the rush and madness of GothCon, the world may never know.  

Your team actually sat down in an empty banquet room for lunch unlike other presenters. You saw one eating instant noodles in the staff hallway. It really paid to be organized.  

In between bites of food, you rehearsed your upcoming speech and did a mock presentation without too many stutters.  

“You’re overthinking it, Y/n. It’s perfect, I promise.” Lily, a content editor from Cindy’s Publisher house, spoke up. The team all nodded in agreement, but it wasn’t enough for you.  

Cindy set her fork down before adding in her two cents. “I agree, Y/n. Don’t shoot for perfection.” 

“Says the woman eating seared Halibut at a convention center.” You said with a groan. Your manager oozed perfection no matter the situation.  

Cindy ignored the low chuckles floating around the room. “Just be your fun quirky self and you’ll be fine.” 

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one expected to face thousands of people in person and even more who were logging on to stream the segment. You felt ready to puke, especially when an event coordinator popped in to get you prepped for the stage.  

It was showtime whether you were ready or not.  

Cindy was the only familiar face backstage with you as multiple stagehands ran around performing sound checks, lighting, giving cues to the current guest on stage, etc.  

It was chaos and you were smack in the middle of it.  

Why couldn’t this be done on a smaller stage? You quickly reminded yourself that you were considered big league now. People paid to gain admission to your stage slot. Lots of people that required a large banquet hall to hold, thus a big fancy stage.  

You handed off your USB to a technician who disappeared inside a back room. Giant screens and professional effects were at work here, but it went all over your head. You were a ball of nerves ready to explode.  

Cindy took pity on your fourth pacing circuit and stepped in your path.  

“Y/n, you can do this. How many times have we practiced in my office?” Cindy frowned when you continued to pace, not hearing a word she said. “I’ll fetch you some water.” She sighed.  

She really hoped the problems in your life didn’t ruin this once in a lifetime experience.  

The second she stepped away, a tall man dressed in security garb walked past dragging you behind a large tote stack of equipment and out of sight of everyone backstage.  

The cautionary hand over your mouth fell when he tugged his face mask down to show himself. There was no need; you recognized those eyes from anywhere.  

“Joker?!” you hissed quietly. Thank God you weren’t hallucinating earlier! 

He silenced you with a much-needed kiss. His hands were balmy cupping your face and you melted into the comfort J provided. You whined when he pulled away.  

“Not so loud, Bunny.” He glanced around the totes to see if anyone heard your slip of the tongue. 

The coast was clear for now. “I had to check on ya.” He wrapped you up in his arms and rocked you gently in that silly way of his. It drew a giggle from you, just as planned. “You’ll do great. I. Know. It. Hey. Look at me, mmh?”  

You looked up on command. “There’s my girl. Go out there and have fun mkay?” He encouraged you to nod with him.  

Both of you heard a stagehand calling your name—breaking the stolen moment you had with Joker.  

He grumbled but kissed you one final time before pushing you back into the hustle and bustle. The stagehand sighed in relief seeing you reappear. There was no time to look for a missing presenter.  

They handed you a mic and Cindy gave you a thumbs up as a vocal announcer welcomed you on stage.  

You could hear the audience all riled up and excited. Was it too late to make a run for it? Joker’s words were the fuel to help you skip onto the stage.  

Cindy clapped along like any proud manager would, but her eyes flickered over to the dimly lit corner from where you mysteriously emerged from.  

What were you doing back there?  

Now was not the time to wonder. The audience was chanting your name, and you bashfully stood in the spotlight, soaking up the attention. 

Just like we rehearsed. Go out there and have fun. You were born ready for this. 

Everyone’s words of encouragement pounded in your head. You exhaled and raised the mic to your lips.  

“Hey hi and hello! Thank you all for your attendance! Wow, that sounds so academic. Am I a professor now?” Your natural rambling earned you a collective chuckle from the crowd. These were your fans and fellow readers who loved you unconditionally. Why were you worried? 

You shook your head to reset the speech engrained in your head. “Anyhoooo. Let’s try that again. Hey hi and hello, welcome to GothCon!!”  

The crowd roared their greeting, feeding off of your sudden burst of energy.  

“Alright that’s more like it! We made it to GothCon loves and if you follow me on socials.... I promised a big, huuuuuge surprise. So! Let’s discuss our favorite handsome trio. The boys have been up to no good! I mean.. Bill might be dead!”  

You paused for dramatic effect as girls screamed like mad. You paced the stage, giggling into the mic. You were known for being a troll and your fans loved it. 

“And we cannot forget about Hunter finding the connection to our world. Who knows.. he might hunt down the reader who’s responsible for these senseless murders.” You looked directly into the main camera so the haters (mostly Harvey Dent) could get the message.  

Your books were works of fiction despite it being the reader’s fault the in-book characters kept dying.  

“Now I think all of you would love a fourth installment..” The audience held their breath knowing something big was coming. The suspense was growing just like you rehearsed. You were a romance/thriller author after all.  

Someone in the crowd grew impatient and cried out, “OMG, I’m gunna die!”  

“Please don’t.” You replied just as quickly. That earned you another collective laugh.  

“Okay, I trolled you guys and gals for too long! My publisher house is partnering with The Wayne Enterprises... yeah that Wayne, to give us all what we’ve been craving.”  

You cued for the video to begin. The banquet hall’s lighting dimmed as the giant screens started to play your promo.  

The screen was stark white until it came alive with your distinct handwriting filling the screen. You worked with special effects and the graphic’s team to make this possible.  

Your own hand wrote out, Will. Hunter. Bill: Official Script and the crowd went insane.  

A clip of you and Wayne Enterprises production team brainstorming played on as it cut to show bullet points of potential actors you had in mind, teasers of storylines, and other goodies. The video was one big promo to announce the obvious. Your book series was green lit for film.  

The announcement was an instant hit.  

You were too busy watching your fans go berserk that you almost didn’t see the screen begin to glitch. Finally hearing the track skip made you react in your typical comical flair.  

“Woah, technical difficulties in 2024? That’s wild. Can we get this troubleshooted backstage, please?”  

You turned to the crowd to apologize when you noticed the horror on one girl's face in the front row. “What’s wrong?” 

She pointed up at the screen. You turned back around to witness your worst nightmare unfolding. 

The glitch was far worse than you imagined. Your movie promo was gone and recent pictures of you and Joker out and about, all of them depicting a red x crossing out J’s face, covered the screens. There were so many...  

You and Joker at the grocery store. At an amusement park near the apartment. Leaving Euphoria that night in Atlanta. Walking around together in Martha’s Vineyard. Shopping at Tiffany’s...  

Every private moment you spent with Joker was on display for everyone to see. Thankfully, his face wasn’t shown but the bloody red covering it made it clear that someone wanted him gone.  

And you didn’t have to guess who was behind this hack. The last picture shown made your blood run cold.  

You could never forget that day.  

You could still feel the silk dress against your legs and the weight of the arm slung over your shoulders. The picture was taken the day your life changed forever. You sat at the VIP booth in Vincent’s restaurant cuddled up with his nephew, Tyler Bicchieri. 

Your past self was smiling wide at the camera while the monster hidden in plain sight had his eyes firmly on you. His knowing grin sickened you.  

Joker didn’t care about the consequences. He saw the video glitch out and instantly reacted. The same pictures that were delivered to the beach house (along with some new additions) were being aired out for the world to see. It was a mild warning before. Now it was a promise.  

Your ex had declared war.  

Joker pushed his way past the backstage crew and actual security trying to bring peace to the assembly. A voice announcer was reminding the guests to remain calm as they experienced technical difficulties.  

Technicians were trying to shut down the video with little success. It was pure madness. The only thing on Joker’s mind was getting to you.  

You were frozen on stage, too horrified to scream. Your eyes were glued to the message blinking on screen. 

Can’t hide forever honeydew. I’ll see you soon. 

Joker radioed for Frost and the others to have the car ready as he picked you up bridal style and fled the scene.  

[leggerefiore]

That pokévillan marriage hc was soooo sweet! 😩😩❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Then I laughed imagining them scrambling to find their s/o's ring size, especially if they don't wear jewelry at all. Can I request hcs of how the submas, larry and whoever you want finds out their s/o's ring size? I can only imagine the chaos and hilarity that insues as they try to be discreet 🤣

djajfjd that's me tbh. I can barely stand necklace and bracelets so they'd die trying to find my ring size

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Larry, Nanu

▲Ingo▼

● Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that he needed to find your ring size out for the piece of jewellery he planned to spend well into four digits on, until after Elesa questioned him. Her deadpan expression made he realised his grievous error. The new situation left him in shambles. How did he get your ring size without you realising it? He wanted his plans to be a surprise. Many thoughts crossed his mind on just how to get there.

● Could he try to guess? He was not too overly familiar with it. Directly asking you was not something that he would dare do. He thinks maybe of getting you a ring as a random gift to see how close it would be to your size, but ends up backing out as he worries about the confusion it might bring. Then, he remembers something from his younger days. His more rural childhood provided an ease strategy for this information.

● Suddenly, he takes you out to a route with wild flowers and ties a flower ring around your finger. He slides it on and off to confirm that it was a proper comparison, and then takes it away under the illusion of wanting to preserve it. (He does, actually, but only after ascertaining the information he needs.) Now, he can only hope you do not get suspicious of anything.

▽Emmet△

○ It crossed his mind much too late. He was already nearly in the process of buying the ring when he was asked about the ring size. Emmet felt verrry dumb forgetting such an important detail and had to awkwardly explain that he did not know before backing out of the store. He stood in a daze for a few moments. This was going to be a surprise, but he did not have a clue what your ring size was. He texted Elesa about his situation. Her reply made him feel even dumber. An obvious solution to his problem.

○ Well, that was if you had any rings for him to compare. If you did not, he would simply perish. Possible other solutions ran through his head. Would it be so out of character for him to measure your finger? Probably, but he was considered odd by many people, so it could work. Though, you were more aware of the extent of his personality than other people. He feels deeply lost about how to about it.

○ If you have rings, he goes for Elesa's suggestion to get your ring size and leaves you none the wiser. But, if you do not have any, he must unfortunately bear the circumstance of measuring the circumference of your finger. You will probably catch on to why he is doing it, but please don't make it obvious you have. He will get sad. Verrry sad. Let him have this.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 It crosses his mind pretty early. He has been around his boss enough to know a bit about accessory sizing. Though, he will admit he is not sure how to get it. He ponders it quietly while stopped outside the office. His expression scares passers-by as he stands eerily still. Eventually, he does is around Rika, who lends an ear to his issue and sighs. She did not expect him to have a romantic side. Of course, if she does suggest just asking for your measurement, she feels certain he will.

🍙 Her advice to check for other rings remains in his head as he returns home. Obviously, just asking you had crossed his mind. There was no reason to make a show out of proposing, especially at his age, but he felt you would appreciate the surprise. Hassel had become involved at some point and proposed something with the use of flowers that he had heard about from a friend. Larry felt even more uncertain about how to approach it now.

🍙 At some point, he grabs your hand, catching you off-guard. His silent observation of your hand would be distressing if not for his odder ways of showing affection popping up. He considered a rough estimate in his head after he let your hand go. Hopefully, this would be accurate.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 It felt a bit dumb for him to finally just be settling down, but you obviously had been subtly mentioning it to him. Deciding that he had nothing left to lose, he chose to visit Olivia. Of course, with her better knowledge about accessories, she stared at him for a moment when he did not know your ring size. It slipped his mind, despite it being completely obvious. Olivia began giving him some suggestions on how to get your ring size subtly. He nodded and stepped out of the store with a sigh.

🌑 He thought on it for a moment. Finding a ring that you had around his home might be hard, trying something cutesy like tying a flower around your finger was out of character for him. He certainly could not get away with just taking a measurement of your ring finger. Nanu shook his head as he watched a stray Meowth run through the streets of Konikoni. If he just asked you, he knew you would likely catch on, of course… But his mind went back to Olivia. Well, nothing wrong with twisting the truth a little to keep some mystique going on.

🌑 So, he called you. You answered. “Olivia wants your ring size,” Nanu half-lied, “She's making a piece of jewellery for you. I don't know it.” You gasped excitedly and quickly provided the required information. He thanked you and hung up. Walking back in the store, he told Olivia your ring size. You probably might be a little suspicious, but as long as you were not completely aware, the Kahuna supposed.

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-one

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I'm not too sure how long this series will be so let's just enjoy it!

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @elizacusi-blog

The heels of my boots smacked against the hardwood floor as I hurried around the room, trying to finish my work. The setting sun had blasted its rays through the window, an indication that I had about a half hour left before the work day had ended and I was able to go home. 

Even though I would have rather stayed longer, with him. 

Part of me thought of going to ask him if he needed me to stay later tonight but that would require me going into his office and talking to him; something I had only done one or twice in the few months of me working here. 

Any time he needed something, he would either write a note and leave it on my desk or send me an email. We barely spoke to each other and if we did it was a quick good morning as he was walking in and a goodnight as I was walking out. 

He was always right behind me in the morning, both of us usually arriving at the same time but he would always stay much later in the evenings, long after I had gone home. 

Being New York’s top mob boss was a full time gig and it kept him busy. Which is why he hired me. When I first applied for the job, I thought I would be the assistant to a C.E.O or something. Needless to say, I had been shocked on my first day when I walked in and noticed who I was actually working for. 

His name was the hush gossip around town, his mob gang running the neighborhood I had lived in my whole life. It has been passed down from generation to generation. When he found out that I had lived here and remembered his grandpa running the gang before his father did, I had been hired on the spot. 

When I told the people in my life of my new job, they were worried for my safety. They reminded me that I could have gotten a job anywhere in New York, why did I agree to this one?

The pay was perfect, exactly what I needed to get by and then some, but the main reason why I accepted this job was because of him. It would have been a lie if I said I didn’t find him attractive. I had to keep reminding myself, though, that it was just a crush. Nothing more. 

Of course, I couldn’t help but worry on how I would be assisting him. But it ended up being the typical mundane tasks any assistant would have. Running errands for him, helping sort his meetings, taking some calls, deterring anyone he didn’t want to see or didn’t have a meeting away. There was only one person who was allowed to walk into his office freely. 

Her.

With a soft sigh, I packed up all of my belongings, the clock on the wall striking six in the evening, and the thought of sitting on my couch in my lazy clothes watching trashy television brought a smile to my face. 

The door behind my desk clicked open and I felt the warmth radiate from him as he walked out, a charming smile across his soft features. 

“Leaving for the night?” 

My eyes glanced at him and felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, the vibrations echoing up to my throat. 

I nodded. “Unless you need something else from me?” 

He shook his head, a smile still plastered over his face. It was almost as if he knew how much his smile made me weak in the knees. The hairs that had been slicked back when he arrived this morning were now a mess on top of his head, no doubt from him running his hand through it. With the light from the lamp on my desk, I could see the few gray hairs that peaked underneath the browns of his beard. 

He looked breathtaking. 

My eyes darted to his left arm, the black and gold vibranium catching the said before light and I had to force myself to look away, so I didn’t get caught staring. 

Except I knew I had because he hid his hand into his jacket pocket.

“No, you go home. Enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Have a good night Mr. Barnes,” I smiled with a red face at being caught. 

“I already told you, Y/N. You can call me Bucky,” he insisted. 

I smiled at my boss, James Buchanan Barnes, and while tossing my bag over my shoulder bid him a goodnight with a nod. I could feel his burning gaze on my backside as I walked away. 

I hummed a low tune while I typed away at the computer in front of me, the list of emails waiting to be sent. Bucky had made sure that this task was my number one priority today because the monthly meeting with the other two mob gangs that ran the other neighborhood around us was coming up. He wanted to make sure that those leaders knew what was going to be discussed before they would arrive that day. 

It had been held here at Bucky’s office for the last handful of years because of his reputation and position in the mob. He was well respected among the other gangs, their own leaders looking up to him. The reason for these meetings were to discuss business, of course, but also to make sure that everyone remembered who was in charge. 

A large presence was felt behind me but I didn’t have to look to see who it was. A smile pulled at the corner of my lips but kept my attention on the email I had been typing. 

“Need something?” I asked over my shoulder. 

The blonde smirked. “I’m just wondering when you’re doing the next coffee run.” 

I spun around in my chair, eyes glancing up towards the man. His beard had been a bit fuller since I saw him last week and his long hair was slicked back, his blue eyes shining bright. 

“Last time I checked Rogers. I’m not your coffee runner,” I joked while standing to my feet and gave his chest a pat. 

The firmness of it did not go unnoticed by me. 

Steve chuckled. “It’s Buck. He’s ready for his afternoon coffee with lunch.” 

I nodded. “Is he busy or can I pop in to get his order?” 

He held up a piece of paper in his hand. “I already got it. Bucky wants me to go with you.”

“Sam usually comes with me,” I raised a brow. “

Steve shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “Figured you could use a change of company.” 

I nodded, eagerly to spend some time with him. Steve was not only one of Bucky’s bodyguards but was also his childhood best friend. The two of them grew up together and while I didn’t speak much to Bucky, Steve and I found ourselves talking almost every free chance we could. There had been a few times our conversations had taken a flirtatious route, neither of us correcting it or changing it. What started off as fun was slowly becoming serious which confused the hell out of me.

Admittedly, he was very attractive as well but there was only one man that currently kept my wandering eyes, even if that’s all that it would come too. I wouldn’t allow it to become anything else because of her. 

“Bucky does know that I don’t need someone to come with me almost every time I run errands for him, right?” I spoke. 

Steve nodded. “He does but it’s company policy.” 

I playfully scoffed. “Is that what you think of me, Steve? Company policy?” 

There was a flash of something in his eyes and his tongue quickly darted over his lips. 

“You really want to know what I think?” Steve’s voice became heavy as he took a step closer. 

I met him halfway, chin raised up to him. “Yeah, I really do.” 

We stared at each other, gazes burning, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach flipped when Steve’s bottom lip got stuck between his teeth and I knew he heard me suck in a breath when he began leaning closer. 

Someone clearing their throat caused me to move away from Steve and when I saw who had caught us, my heart sunk. 

Bucky stared at the two of us, lips parted in confusion. “Am I interrupting something?” 

Steve sighed while shaking his head. “Always had perfect timing, Buck.” 

A red blush of embarrassment covered my body and I kept my gaze at my feet while the two friends bickered back and forth. I waited for them to finish so I could make the afternoon coffee run, hoping that the rest of the day went by fast. 

“James, you’re not going to believe who I ran into at the shops this morning.”

My head snapped up at the petite voice, eyes watching with jealousy as the woman placed a quick kiss on Bucky’s cheek. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Bucky mused. 

Steve nodded with a smile. “Hey Natasha.” 

The red head smiled back at Steve. “James keeping you busy?” 

“He’s actually letting me leave with Y/N to grab the lunch order,” Steve joked while looking at me. 

Natasha's gaze followed and even if her smile said one thing, the look in her eyes said something completely different: annoyance. 

“How are you, Y/N?,” she asked. 

I gave her my own fake smile. “Good.” 

It wasn’t news to anyone that Natasha wasn’t happy about Bucky hiring me, she wanting to be the only girl in the office but as Bucky told her many times, it was his choice and his alone. 

“Well, I have to fill you in on my morning,” Natasha returned her attention back to Bucky. 

My broken gaze watched as she cupped his cheek to lay a kiss upon his lips, the diamond on her left-hand glimmering in the sunlight. 

Steve noticed the way I longed to be in her position, so he gently nudged me. “Ready to go?” 

My eyes locked with Bucky’s for a second, a small glimmer mixed with the blue pool of his iris', before I had to force myself to look away once again, now staring at Steve. 

“Yep.” 

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder and nodded a fast goodbye to Natasha and Bucky before leading me away from them. 

With our backs to them, I hadn’t seen the look Bucky burned into Steve, who still had his arm nestled on top of my shoulder. 

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Fucked my way up to the top

A follow up to Clumsy Office Intern

Boss!Sukuna x ClumsyIntern!Reader

WARNING: THIS IS A HEAVILY DUBCON FIC. BUT THAT IS ALL IT IS FICTION. I do not endorse such behaviors. If this is happening to you God forbid, it's not sexy or cool it's abuse seek help. Reader is very much hierarchically lower than Sukuna who is her boss. And he takes advantage of this. He is not a good man. Sukuna is also older than reader by a bit. Reader does not say yes. Read at your own discretion.

This has been betad now. We die of cholera like normal people in the Victorian era or poverty or whatever. Many thanks to my beta reader @ominous-meme for all her help.

Ryomen Sukuna, forty-five, manager at the company, a well-known dictator among the employees – even ones not on his team – had his eye on you. The stupid blubbering intern who kept messing up and kept getting saved by her co-workers. Why, though? Why were these men and women so devoted to you? It was simple. You had enraptured them like a demon of lust straight from the second circle of hell. 

He watched you now, eyes trailing up your smooth thighs to the pronounced curve of your ass;  to your thick tummy; to your soft breasts just barely peeking out from the pale blue shirt you wore with its first two buttons undone. Around your neck, you wore a thin silver chain with a small gemstone that glinted in the light catching his eye. A gift from an employee – Gojo-kun. “For doing so well in your first month here, Intern-chan!” he had announced to the cubicle. Sukuna had rolled his eyes then, and he did so again now. It was clear that the blue topaz was a stupid way of him trying to claim you as his own. Geto and Ieiri liked bringing you little treats too – snacks from the vending machine, an “extra” coffee “accidentally” made. And Nanami… Sukuna scoffed to himself. The biggest simp. Always softly smiling at you, making sure you’re going for your lunch break, waiting with you till you finish up work. Effectively making sure that all the time you spent in the office, you interacted with Sukuna minimally. 

It was infuriating. So now that he had gotten hold of a chance, there was no way in hell he wouldn’t let it go. Here you were, all alone in the office, working late on a project that he had strategically told you about only this morning, knowing that Nanami Kento’s watchful eye was on a work trip out of the office for the day... 

He approached your little desk  (littered with small notes of encouragement from your co-workers and your cute stationery) and scoffed at your hunched back seeing the Cinnamoroll and Kuromi pen and pencil alongside the Hello Kitty eraser. Hearing him, you turned around in your chair slowly, wary of what he might ask. “Sukuna-kachou, I’m working on the ta–” 

“That’s not what I’m here for.” He cut you off brusquely. You waited for him to speak, anxiety slowly growing in your chest. If only Geto-senpai or Nanami-senpai were here, you thought. They might have acted as a buffer or if only just to calm you a little. “We should have a chat. Wrap up and come to my office please.” 

This was it then, you mused. At least you weren’t going to be fired in an office full of people. It would just be you and him; everyone else having left for the weekend, probably enjoying themselves in clubs and bars; drinking and doing karaoke.

 Saving the file you were working on, you packed up your things and headed to Sukuna Ryomen’s room. It was a nice spacious office, with a large desk and even a sofa set around a coffee table. Being on the thirteenth floor meant the large windows displayed the sprawling city in front of you, the lights scattered all around with none of the usual bustling city sounds. 

Sukuna sat at his desk leaning back in his chair, his thick arms crossed behind his head, pushing up his hair. He indicated with a nod of his head for you to sit in the chair opposite; you did so, carefully trying to glean what it was going to be. A reprimand? A firing? Were you going to have to look for something new now? Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour thinking up all the possible scenarios you might have to face. 

Your boss’ voice cut through your thoughts, “How long have you been working at this company now?” 

“Sir? O-one month and a few days, sir.” You squeaked out a response. 

“Hmmm…This is your first time working in such a big place isn’t it?” 

You nodded, “It’s my first time working, sir.”

Sukuna felt his cock twitch. The softness in your voice, the innocence. He couldn’t wait to absolutely ruin you. He wanted to mould your cunt in the shape of his cock. 

There was a lull in conversation. As clumsy as you were, you didn't want to lose this job. 

You were about to tell him that you’d work harder when he suddenly spoke up. “You’ve improved a lot since you first came here, you know. But you still have a long way to go.” He paused as if he was thinking, then said, “I want you to do something for me.”  

You nodded your head vigorously, thinking you'd do anything to save your position here;  such a prestigious company with a good name and so much potential for growth. 

“You see, I need to know that you’re dedicated to your work here.” You were so dedicated; you could show him! “I need to know you’re dedicated to me.” You would do anything to prove it! “I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock” 

Anything…? 

You spluttered, unable to form the words needed for an adequate response.  “You want to keep this job don’t you?” he asked smoothly.  Your head slowly nodded in response while your brain frantically tried to process the situation you were in. “Then get on your knees and show me just how dedicated you are, slut!” 

Sukuna barked out the last word, startling you into getting out of your chair and going around his desk. You barely understood what you were doing, only that he had angled his chair as you walked around to him, to allow you the space to kneel before his crotch...and then you were dropping to your knees. 

“Good girl.” 

You watched as your trembling hands unzipped the black slacks, pushing the band of his boxers down. These small hands pulled out his cock from inside, the pink of your nail enamel reflecting your face – wan and blank with eyes wide, lips slightly parted. It was this that made you pause. 

Sensing your hesitation Sukuna caressed your cheek – an uncharacteristically gentle touch that made you drop your guard – which was all the opportunity he needed to shove his cock into your mouth. The slight graze of your unsuspecting teeth made Sukuna hiss. 

“Oi, watch yourself brat. Come on. I thought you wanted me to know how dedicated you are.”

You couldn’t help but open your mouth wider, pink glossy lips stretched around his thickness. Sukuna had thick veins running down the sides of his cock that you could feel against your tongue as you licked down. 

A groan made you look up at the man through your lashes. You looked so young and soft. Sukuna felt himself twitch in your mouth. “Suck, brat. What are you looking at me for?” You dipped your head low, taking in as much of him as you could and felt him grab your ponytail. 

If he wasn’t before, Sukuna was now completely under your spell. Your warm mouth wasn’t just sucking his cock, your hands weren’t simply wrapped around his thickness. You were milking him, for all he was worth, his lust, overpowering. For a moment he had to wonder if you were really human. That you weren’t in reality a succubus sent by Satan. 

He used his grip on your hair to shove your head down along his cock. You couldn’t help but gag. “Ganbare ganbare…” The soft words of praise that fell from Sukuna’s lips came with a hidden warning that you couldn't help but heed. Do this well, Intern, your job is on the line. 

You laid your tongue flat out and forced yourself to suck, pulling yourself off his cock with a pop! Then a kiss on his purplish head. You started licking up and down his length the way you’d seen so many times in porn. All those unrealistic situations had now come alive; here you were kneeling in between your boss’s legs and sucking his cock, taking him deep into your mouth while you played with his balls. The dark hair at the base of his dick tickled your nose and you resisted the urge to scratch it. Sukuna let you go at your pace for a while, let his cock explore the confines of your mouth as he watched your small head bob up and down in his lap. 

But he was never known for his patience, so without warning, you found yourself deepthroating him as he thrust up into you. Head held down by both hands, Sukuna shoved his length down your throat, over and over with little regard for your whimpers. Tears streamed down your eyes while he abused your poor mouth. Your nails dug into his thighs but he barely noticed, lost in the bliss of how you felt. 

“Come on, little girl. Take it! Take my fucking cock!” 

Your jaw was starting to hurt now from the stretch. You found yourself thinking of your kind co-workers. What would they think if they saw you in this deplorable state? You never wanted to find out. 

A jerk—-and Sukuna was cumming in your mouth.  Bitter and acrid on your tongue, you almost spat it out, but Sukuna pushed himself deeper and growled, “Fucking swallow, brat! I don’t want to see a single drop wasted.”You forced yourself to swallow. The disgusting taste clung to your tongue, making you gag. Sukuna pulled you off his cock, to your feet, and onto his lap. One hand explored your body, while the other stroked your hair. “You did a good job, little intern. Perhaps we can see about getting you a more permanent position in the company now.”

The intern position isn’t good enough for you anymore. Sukuna thought to himself. Maybe you’d be better off as my personal assistant…

Masterlist

[high-ct5555]

Love & War - Life Day Exchange 2024

Summary: Loving a Clone Commander post war has it's ups and downs, thankfully Padme is always eager to make things happen

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

a/n: hi @melliejellybellybean and Happy (belated) Life Day! I'm so sorry for the late posting, December decided to throw a few curve balls my way but I am so excited to gift this to you! you said fluff and I heard you

inspired by: Love And War In Your Twenties by Jordy Searcy

Your twenties are for spending hours and hours pretending We have plans and we have places we should visit But everybody knows your twenties are for wasting time

Life day has always held a special place in your heart, even more so after meeting Commander Cody. The Clone Commander had nearly run you over in the halls of the Courascant base nearly four years prior, long before the war had ended with the death of Emporer Sheev Palpatine. 

The two of you had become fast friends, bonding over early caf runs, mountains of datapads, and even physical paperwork as the networks became flooded with activity at the back end, and the official ceasefire of the war, and the overbearingly stressful atmosphere as your individual bosses make pit stops, Kenobi insisting daily check-ins to ensure Cody’s workload did not become hellish, and Senator Padme Amidala stopping by for nothing more than a friendly smile and a fresh caf, to which she began bringing two, one for you and one for your clone friend, as the Commander was shifted to the back closet-like offices of the senate building post-war. 

'Cause you could be with anyone you wanted, you could Take that job they offered and move down by the ocean But I love the way your hand feels when it's under mine

The Senate building is desolate, life day celebrations in full swing outside, the music and laughter echoing in through your open office window as you shuffle from desk to window to cabinet and back, eyes glued to the datapad that Padme had sent you days ago regarding post-war rehabilitation efforts that she wants to bring up in the next senate meeting as a speaking point. 

Months ago, you had planned to invite Cody on your Life Day escapades, gunning to spend some time with the clone you had inevitably fallen for. Instead, he was deployed last minute to Naboo along with the rest of the 212th and General Kenobi to act as extra hands for the Nabooian Guard on the celebratory day. 

With Padme on leave with her husband, Anakin Skywalker, and their twins Luke and Leia, you are left to your devices, and the thoughts tumbling about your head speaking a certain Commander’s name like a mantra. And as the morning light shifts to afternoon, and afternoon to evening, the colors of the light show outside dance across your dimly lit office, waltzing across the walls in a mocking manner. 

And with your focus so deeply rooted in the datapad, you barely notice your comm flashing frantically beside you, and when you do catch it in your peripheral, you mindlessly tap it.

“Please tell me you aren’t working.”

“Padme! How are you?” You ask, avoiding her accusation statement.

“Put the datapad down, you have a guest. Happy Life Day,” she sing-songs, and then the comm goes dead. And as it does, there’s a knock on the door. 

You blink confusion flooding your veins as you shuffle toward the door, your sock feet sliding easily, carrying you and all your comfortable pajama glory to the door as it slides open. 

“Happy Life Day, cyar'ika.”

The flowers clutched in Cody’s hands are nearly crushed as you leap forward, pulling him toward you into a tight hug. “I thought you were on Naboo?”

Your words are nearly drowned by the celebration outside pouring in from the open window, Cody’s free hand easily switching your office light office and dragging you with him. “Senator Amidala sent a few of us back, told us there was no need.”

You snort, knowing exactly what had actually happened. Padme had caught you not so sneakily staring at the Commander months ago, making it her personal mission to push you two together at any given moment. “Oh…Cody, I’m not wearing shoes.”

He slows, walking in front of you and lowering himself slightly, “Hop on.”

His normal plastoid has been replaced at some point before arriving with more comfortable civii clothes. Without a second thought, you hop onto his back, his free hand wrapping around one of your legs, hooked under your knee. 

I don't wanna take the world for granted While I'm still trying to understand it The more I live, I am convinced Everyone just wants to be in love This world makes me dizzy, how'd we get so busy? No one tries to take the time it takes to turn your Love into a love or friends into a family

The trek to your apartment is one Cody knows incredibly well, mapped out and tattooed into his brain like something of a lifeline. And when you arrive, his hand gently releases you off of his back and to the ground, typing in your door code with ease. 

On the other side of the door, your apartment is lit with a lamp in the corner, the smell of freshly baked something wafting toward you, drawing you through the threshold. Cody stands proudly just on the inside of your door as you take in the holofilm prepared, the cookies sitting still hot on a plate, and your favorite blankets folded neatly on the couch. Only after you walk further into your home do you see the neat pile of plastoid armor, yellow and white and dented with years of war, resting beside the couch. You turn, watching Cody as he carefully places each flower meticulously into a vase on your counter. The vibrant orange, yellow, and red flowers a soft contrast to the otherwise warmly lit interior, a symbolic reflection of the light and warmth Cody seems to bring into your life in nearly every passing moment. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Am not.” Though the lie is less convincing with each passing second as the two of you hold oddly comforting eye contact. “This is wonderful, Cody, thank you.”

The holofilm he chose is one of your favorites, a romantic comedy, heavy on the comedy; a tale of friends to lovers with nothing but the obscene obliviousness keeping them from one another. A full cushion apart from each other, yet drifting closer as the end of the holofilm nears, the celebrations dying down outside your apartment. 

“This is my favorite holofilm,” You mutter, cozying further into your couch. 

Cody’s eyes find the side of your face as you watch the holofilm intently, blindly reaching for the plate of cookies mostly eaten. “I know.” 

Well, I don't want any false religion, I will Practice loving you with no conditions, and I'll Give up what I have to just so I can have you

Only then do you find yourself looking at him, catching his eyes on your face. Yet, he doesn’t look away. Your eyes turn back to the screen. “I’ve always wanted what they have. I mean, can you imagine falling in love with your best friend? Already knowing each other, knowing how they think and feel and all of it only being heightened. I think it’d be fun, and easy. But the kind of easy that makes love worth it, like when you just know someone’s favorite holofilm, or their comm frequency by memory. That sort of easy. I don’t think I want the endless pining though-”

At some point during your rant, Cody had moved to your side, his hand finding your face, gently pulling your eyes to him, and your lips to his, stopping your words short. The shock freezes your body, your movements stunted as he pulls away, eyes searching yours. “Like this?”

Everybody's chasing something But they don't know they're chasing someone The more I live, I am convinced Everyone just wants to be in love Lots of little life we take for granted when we Finish our Decembers empty-handed, but I'm Never empty-handed when I'm holding your hand

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, finding your hands releasing the woven blanket in your lap and bringing your hands to either side of his face, a hand latching onto your wrist. When you pull away, your faces mere centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other, you mumble, “Exactly like this,” as the credits of the holofilm roll, your favorite song on the soundtrack playing softly; a song about loving despite it all.

The loud explosions from fireworks outside thump through your bones, drawing your eyes toward your window. Cody’s lips press against your cheek before tugging you into him, pulling your blanket back over you. “Happy Life Day, cyar'ika.”

You smile, wiggling back into his arms. “You never told me what that means.”

I may never be a politician, or Make a lot of money, hold a high position Baby, you're my mission and all my glory days are yours I don't wanna take the world for granted While I'm still trying to understand it The more I live I am convinced Everyone just wants to be in love

[lokidokieokie]

A New Feature

"Y/n! How much longer on your piece?"

You huffed, chair tucking back into your desk. "Not too much longer, Audrey. Just doing the final edits."

"Hurry it up, please! Got something excited to share."

Many people would say that working as a journalist would mean researching and writing about boring events that happen on a day-to-day basis.

Yours definitely wasn't.

You were fortunate enough to work for TuneIn Magazine, the biggest pop culture news outlet in England. You got to study and write about your favourite characters, movies, comics, and whatever else you desired. It truly was your dream job.

Giving your article a final glance, you save it and send it off to editorial.

Pushing your chair back, you start heading over to Audrey's office, making sure to stop off at the staff kitchen to grab a biscuit.

With a quick knock on the door, you head in, "You wanted to see me?"

A girlish squeal was all you heard before Audrey made her way over to you.

"I'm going to be the bestest friend ever!"

You roll your eyes, "You're also my boss, Auddie."

She grinned, "It doesn't matter, I'm going to be the best of both!"

"Alright, hit me. What crappy article am I doing this time? The Bacon-Flavour Era? Who never did their ice-bucket challenge after being nominated?"

She gave you a quizzical look, "What? No?!"

"Then what am I here for? We've still got three hours left, and I've got that article on Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock series to finish writing."

"He's just so dreamy! Have you seen those baby-blues?" She wiggles her eyebrows a few times.

Chuckling softly, "You've always been obsessed with that man."

"I know, but who doesn't?" You raise your hand.

She scoffs, "Well, you're just weird."

"What did you actually call me in here for?"

Audrey's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement, "Remember how we've been brainstorming about changing things up here? Not just focusing on the characters or fandoms?" You nod. "Well, I've got something that will knock your socks off."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued, "Do tell, Auddie."

She leaned across her desk, trying to act conspiratorially, "You, my dearest friend, are about to embark on an exposé of a lifetime. We're talking about a piece that will send shockwaves through the fandom community."

You leaned forward, "Keep going..."

"It's time to pull back the curtain on none other than Thomas William Hiddleston himself!" She exclaimed, a wide grin prominent on her face.

You blinked, slightly taken aback, "Tom Hiddleston."

Auddie nodded, "That's right! The enigmatic heartthrob, the charismatic actor -- we're delving deep into the man behind the roles."

A multitude of emotions flickered across your face, though you managed to remain neutral. "I see..."

If she noticed you weren't as ecstatic as she was, she didn't mention it; too swept up in her enthusiasm. "I can't wait to see what you manage to get out of this? This is going to be huge!"

"And get this," Audrey continued, barely containing her excitement, "Mr. Hiddleston himself has agreed to cooperate with this exposé. You'll have exclusive access to him for all of your interviews...multiple times!"

Your heart sank at the thought of seeing Tom again, but you plastered a smile for Audrey's sake. "Sounds like quite a good opportunity."

As Audrey launched into a flurry of ideas for the article, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension gnawing at you. Interviewing Tom Hiddleston multiple times was definitely not part of your plan, but it seemed fate had other ideas.

~~~

A/N AHHH! I've finally done it. This idea has been in my drafts for 2 years!

no tags yet..lemme know if you want to join it :)

[sequinsmile-x]

Domestic older hotchniss always have a special place in my heart, can you write more of them pleasee 🥺

hiiii bestie <3

They have a special place in my heart too and I haven't written them in forever!!

I hope you like this!

-x-

Salut d'Amour

Emily has a long, very bad day. Luckily, her husband never fails to make her feel better.

-x-

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: none

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily was having a long day. 

It had started well enough. She’d woken up to her alarm to find that her husband was already out of bed. He was still an early riser despite having been retired for a few years, and he was almost always up before her, already working on breakfast for her and the girls before she was even half awake. 

Aaron already had coffee ready for her when she walked downstairs, and she’d thanked him with a kiss, something which had pulled groans of disgust from their teenage daughters, both Hazel and Violet protesting just like they always did when Emily and Aaron showed each other affection. 

She’d left the house whilst the girls were still eating breakfast, nodding along as Hazel reminded her about her violin recital after school as she promised her daughter she’d be there. 

Her day had gone downhill the moment she’d arrived at work. 

There was enough paperwork on her desk to make her consider retiring herself and she had more meetings than she even wanted to think about. She liked her job most of the time, but it wasn’t lost on her that her promotion to Section Chief a few years ago had injected more politics into her career than she’d ever wanted. She’d taken the job to allow herself more time with the girls and Jack, something she was grateful for now he’d moved to college and the girls were getting older. Violet barely needed her anymore now she was 17 and Hazel was 15, on the cusp of pulling away entirely, forever claiming her need for independence. 

Everything had only got worse once the deputy director had pulled her into his office just before she was due to leave and insisted she and the BAU stayed behind to catch up on paperwork, news she had to deliver to the team herself. Whilst they were her friends, people she considered to be family, she hated being their bosses boss sometimes, that she’d stepped into a role where she controlled their days so heavily. They’d been mad at her, as if it was her choice to keep them all at work late, as if she didn’t want to get home because she had somewhere else to be. 

As soon as she knew she was going to be late, that she was going to miss Hazel’s violin recital, she’d tried to call the teenager to let her know. When she didn’t pick up, something she never did that always drove Aaron crazy, Emily had sent her a text apologising, explaining she was stuck at work. Hazel’s reply had been short, her annoyance clear.

Emily had also called Aaron who had assured her he’d film the recital for her, his ability to placate her concerns even over the phone one of the many things she loved about him. 

When she got home late any relief she felt as she walked into the house is gone the moment she tries to talk to Hazel who ignores her, storming off up to her room without even looking at her mother. 

Emily blows out a shaky breath and heads to the living room. She sits on the couch, sinking into it as she tries and fails to relax. 

“What a fucking day,” she says to herself, closing her eyes for a moment to try and centre herself. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Aaron says as he walks into the room, his smile soft and gentle as he places a glass of wine on the table in front of her, “I thought you could do with this after the day you’ve had.” 

He sits on the couch next to her and she hums gratefully, resting her head on his shoulder, “Thank you. How was the recital?”

He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer, “She was amazing as always,” he says, hating that Emily tenses against him, that he can practically feel the guilt flowing from her, “I recorded it for you and Vi did too,” he says, chuckling slightly, “She said her phone is better and that she ‘actually knows what she’s doing,’” he smiles at Emily when she looks up at him, “Apparently my giant hands mean I always cover the microphone.” 

Emily smiles softly as she imagines their eldest daughter saying that to him, how she would have rolled her eyes in a way Aaron always said was all her. “If it helps, I’ve always been fond of your giant hands.” 

“Oh I know,” he says, making a point of grasping her thigh. He watches as she smiles at him, how it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, how he can see how the day she’s had has impacted her. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

In the end, after a day of being yelled at by various people and having her nerve tested at every turn, her husband’s kindness breaks her. The unwavering love and affection shining in his eyes as he reaches for her hand and links their fingers together, a touch so common to her, so much a part of her life, that she can’t remember what it was like to live without it. The sob breaks free from her chest with such force she’s surprised it doesn’t crack a rib, her lungs heaving as she tries to suck in air as it escapes. Aaron pulls her into a hug immediately, his arms tight around her as she fits against his side like a puzzle piece, as if they’d been made for each other. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, kissing the side of her head, his heart cracking at the way she cities against him Her sadness had always had a profound impact on him, even years before they got together. It had always made him want to seek out whatever had made her sad and tear it to pieces, to defend her whatever had snuck through her iron-clad barriers. His wife was strong almost to a fault, she was stronger than him most of the time, and it felt like nothing short of a privilege to be the person she felt comfortable enough to do this with, to take off the armour she’d worn since she was a little girl who was too small to carry it all, the weight of it on her shoulders something that had never gone away, “I’ve got you.”

She grasps at his back, her short nails digging into him through the material of his polo shirt, and she presses her face into his neck. She swallows thickly and shakes her head at herself as she pulls back, looking at him through eyes that are shining like glass, her ears still gathering at her lashline. 

“I feel so stupid for crying,” she says, leaning into his hand as he cups her cheek to wipe away her tears. “It’s just a bad day,” she smiles shakily at him, “We both know I’ve had worse.” 

He leans in and kisses her, the salt of her tears pressed against his lips for a moment before he pulls back, “Em, you’re allowed to be upset. What is it we always say to the kids?” 

She rolls her eyes at him and presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling, love for him that came as naturally to her as breathing swelling in her gut, “Feelings are never stupid.” 

“Exactly,” he says as he winks at her and kisses her forehead before he pulls her in for another hug, his hand running up and down her back, “And you know what Haze is like, she reacts first and thinks later,” he smiles at her as he pulls back, mischief she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of carved deeply into his dimples, “Not sure where she gets that from.” 

She pinches him lightly through his shirt in retribution, his implication clear enough she’s sure Sergio has picked up on it from where he was sleeping in the corner of the room. She loves that he knows her well enough to know that, no matter how bad her day had been, disappointing their daughter had been the worst of it. The look on Hazel’s face when she got home enough to reopen wounds from when she was the teenager's age that had never fully healed.

“I just hate that I let her down,” she says, the force of the emotions she’s trying to keep back making her chin tremble, “She wanted me there and I was at work.” 

He can hear what she hasn’t said, the comparison she’s made. It was something she had worried about ever since they’d found out she was pregnant with Violet, a concern that had only increased when they found out she was a girl and when Hazel had come along a couple of years later. She’d spent the girl's entire lives, and every moment of Jack’s since she’d stepped into a parental role for him, proving that she wasn’t Elizabeth. Their children were the centre of Emily’s world and everything she did was for them. 

He squeezes her hand, “You’re not your mother, Em.” 

She sighs and shakes her head, his ability to dig into what she was upset about without even trying still a surprise after all this time. 

“For someone who is not a profiler anymore, Agent Hotchner,” she says playing with the collar of his polo shirt, “You’re damn good at it.”

He hums, “Maybe I just know my wife.” 

She smiles softly at him but it fades and she blows out a steady breath, “She was so disappointed.” 

“You’ve been at every recital except for this one,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, the grey locks somehow making her even more beautiful than when they’d met, “You’ve always been there in the front row, even back when she was terrible and it sounded like a dying cat when she played,” he says, and she shakes her head at him, a smile flicking across her face, “Once she’s calmed down she’ll be fine, and knowing her she’ll even apologise.” 

She knows he’s right. Hazel was exactly like her in every way, but she hadn’t needed to learn to control her emotions quite as tightly as Emily had. She’d been encouraged to feel them, to deal with them healthily, but she was still a teenage girl at the mercy of her hormones. She knew her daughter well enough to know that she’d feel bad for yelling at her, that she’d be in her room simmering in her guilt until it came to a boil and she’d come to find her, her apology already halfway out by the time she was hugging her mother. 

“Yeah,” she says, the assurance not making her feel any better, the fact she’d missed something so important to her daughter still lingering in her belly, a heavy weight she knew she’d carry for days, “I guess.” 

He wants nothing more than to cheer her up, than to see her real smile brighten up her face, so he smiles at her, “Failing that, you could always get your own back by embarrassing her in front of her friends this weekend.” 

She laughs, a loud and bright thing that surprises her as she shakes her head at him, “There’s always that,” she says, biting her lip as she looks at him, “How do you always do that?” 

He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing as he tilts his head at her slightly, “Do what?” 

She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at how the grey flecks in it shimmer in the light of the living room, “Make me laugh just after I’ve cried.” 

He smiles and he leans in to kiss her, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place. He rests his forehead against hers, “We have been married close to 20 years, sweetheart. It would be sad if I didn’t.” 

She nods in agreement, but is cut off as they hear a clearing of a throat in the doorway, and she pulls back from Aaron to see Hazel standing there, her arms tight across her chest and a half smile on her face. 

“Just once I wish I could walk into a room without the danger of seeing you two all over each other,” she says jokingly, her smile shaking slightly before she clears her throat, “Mom, can I talk to you?” 

“I’ll go get started on dinner,” Aaron says as he squeezes Emily’s knee reassuringly before he stands up.

He makes a point of placing his hand on Hazel’s shoulder as he walks past her, smiling encouragingly at her as he leaves the room. He turns back around only a few seconds later to see them hugging and he smiles, the two of them together a sight that had always warmed him from the inside out from the very first time Emily had held Hazel when she was a newborn, a tiny dot of a thing pressed against her mother’s chest. 

He leaves them to it and heads towards the kitchen, grateful for the ordinary life he once thought he’d never have. 

-x-

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[baronessblixen]

Prompt: 26. "Honestly, why would I care?"

Angsty humor: All Mulder wanted to do was drop off a report. Now he has to deal with a drunk Skinner. (wc: 1,482)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 28: The Truth Is (Not) Found In A Glass of Whiskey

It’s late and the Hoover building deserted. A few floors down, Scully is putting on her coat, and waiting for him. Mulder hurries through the hallways, glad to be alone here, and not roped into small talk by anyone. As much as he prefers the quiet and solitude this late hour brings, he knows that Scully doesn’t.

While she may not want a boring 9-to-5 job either, she’d like to spend an evening or two at home. Alone, probably. Or with a friend. Maybe even someone who is more than a friend. His thoughts are faster than his legs and he has to shake it off. To him, spending time with her is the highlight of his day. Any day. Monday to Friday, Saturday and Sunday. To her? He hasn’t asked. Is afraid to find out.

Now all he has to do is drop off this report and then they’re off. Part of him is hoping that he’ll find a case that will keep them busy this weekend. While Scully is probably hoping for the opposite. That thought makes him smile. He lifts his hand to knock on Skinner’s door before he remembers that it’s after hours and his secretary will have left hours ago. Same as Skinner.

He walks into the outer office, intending to put it on Kimberly’s desk. But then he sees that the door to Skinner’s personal office is ajar. There’s dim light coming from within. He peeks through the gap and sees his boss sitting at his desk, a bottle of dark liquid in front of him.

“Sir?” he asks, knocking softly on the door.

“Mulder? What the fuck are you still doing here?” The swear makes Mulder wince. He’s never heard Skinner curse like that.

“Dropping off our latest report. We, um… it took a while longer. I wanted it to be on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“Scully made you do it, huh?” His boss is grinning, but it’s askew. Mulder glances at the bottle – whiskey, from what he can tell – and sees it’s more than half empty. There’s only one explanation: his boss is drunk.

“We wrote it together, sir.”

“Sure, sure. Hand it over.” Skinner takes another gulp from his glass and as Mulder walks closer, he smells the alcohol. It’s making him dizzy.

“Are you all right, Skinner?” he asks once he’s standing close. The other man’s eyes are disoriented, his pupils dilated.

“Never been better. Ever have your heart broken, Agent Mulder?”

“I, well-”

“No, of course not,” Skinner goes on, ignoring him. “Someone like you probably breaks hearts.” He’s not going to correct his boss, even though he’s completely wrong. Mulder thinks about Phoebe, about Diana. His heart has been broken repeatedly. Right now, though, it’s not what Skinner wants to hear.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

“Who would you call?” Skinner narrows his eyes. “There’s no one. No kids. No wife anymore either. I’m alone, Agent Mulder. Alone. Take my advice.” He crooks his finger, motioning for Mulder to come closer. He does so reluctantly and he’s too slow. As soon as he’s in reach, Skinner grabs his tie, drawing him close. His breath reeks of whiskey as he speaks.

“Don’t fuck it up with Agent Scully. She’s the jackpot, Mulder. You probably don’t deserve her, so if you fuck it up, I will find you and I will hurt you. You hear me?” Mulder gulps and nods.

“Sir, um, Agent Scully and I aren’t-”

“Oh shut it, Mulder. Who are you kidding here? I see you two together. I know you try to be discreet but honestly, why would I care? You do what you want in your time off. Hell, you do what you want anyway. All your case files are proof of that.” He pats the finished report Mulder has just dropped off at his desk.

“Thank you, sir,” he says lamely, not knowing what else to say. Explaining his complicated relationship with Scully would take hours, and right now, in his state, Skinner wouldn’t understand. Mulder barely understands it himself and he’s stone-cold sober.

“Where is she, anyway? You two are attached at the hips. She leave without you? You let her leave?” Skinner’s voice is getting louder and more agitated. Mulder wishes Scully had come up with him because he’s at his wit’s end.

“She’s downstairs. I told her I’d drop this off and be right back down.”

“Then go, Mulder. Before she finds someone better. They always do.” Skinner sighs, bringing his glass to his lips, only to realize it’s empty. Instead of pouring himself another glass, he grabs the bottle and takes a huge swig.

“Sir, I think maybe you’ve had enough.”

“You’re not my father, Agent Mulder. Hell, I could be your father. Go to your room!” He laughs and Mulder uses the moment to snatch the whiskey bottle out of his hand. “Now, Agent Mulder, you give that back.”

“Sorry, sir. This is for your own good. You can have it back tomorrow.”

“Mulder, that bottle of whiskey is my only friend.”

“That’s not true. Scully and I are your friends. You have plenty of friends.” Mulder isn’t sure that’s the truth, but he doesn’t know anything about Skinner’s personal life.

“I don’t. My wife took them in the divorce. She took everything. My heart, too. Mulder, you treat Scully better than that, okay? You hear me? You don’t let a woman like Scully get away. Promise me.”

“I promise,” he says.

“Mulder, are -” Scully walks into the office and both Mulder and Skinner turn to her.

“Speak of the devil,” Skinner slurs. “Or rather, angel.” He laughs again. Mulder throws Scully a helpless look, hoping she understands. And she does.

“Sir, I think- we should call you a cab.” Scully is by Skinner’s side in an instant and he looks up at her like a puppy.

“You’re too good for him. But you love him. Can’t do anything about that.” She turns to Mulder, her eyes asking him what all of that is about. He just shrugs. They have bigger problems at the moment.

“Who can we call, sir?” Scully asks.

“There’s no one, Agent Scully. No one. Just my bottle and Mulder took it from me.”

“We’ll call you a cab and we’ll- we’ll make sure you’re okay.”

“Gotta use the bathroom,” Skinner says. He gets up from his chair and stumbles. Scully tries to keep him upright but Skinner is heavy. Mulder helps her and together they manage to get him to the bathroom. They exchange a look, wondering if they should let him do this on his own. Ultimately, they decide to wait in front of the bathroom, trying to give their boss some dignity.

“What happened here?” Scully asks quietly.

“He was like this when I got here,” Mulder says. “I think he’s sad. I think someone broke his heart.”

“Poor Skinner. We can’t leave him alone, Mulder. Someone has to stay with him. We can’t just drop him off at a hospital. What will people think?” He nods, knowing she’s right.

“He can sleep it off at my place.”

“I’ll stay with you.” His eyes grow big. “Unless you don’t-”

“Oh, I do,” he says softly, touching her arm. “I don’t want to deal with him alone. And I always want you around, Scully.” She smiles at him. “Just so you know… Skinner thinks we’re dating and you coming with me will not defuse the situation.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing. He said I shouldn’t fuck it up between us and when I tried to tell him that we aren’t dating, he didn’t believe me. Not that it matters, but he doesn’t mind.” He can’t quite suppress his grin.

“Oh, did I interrupt you two?” Skinner staggers out of the bathroom, a dopey smile on his face.

“You didn’t interrupt anything. Come on, sir,” Scully says, taking charge. She flanks him and nods at Mulder so he’ll do the same. The three of them are an odd pair as they make it through the Hoover hallways, but at least there’s no one here to see the A.D. like this. His secret will remain safe with them.

“Where are we going?” he asks as they get into the elevator.

“Home,” Mulder says. “You’re staying with me and Scully tonight.”

“Knew you two lived together. Could never prove it, but I knew it.” He taps his heart and then his forehead. “Sometimes you just know. You better invite me to your wedding, though.”

“Sir, we-”

“No, Scully, not you too. I already told Mulder it’s fine. It’s so fine. You two do you.” He giggles like a schoolboy and can’t stop. “You know what I mean.”

“This is going to be a long night,” Mulder mumbles, and Scully nods. Skinner, completely unaware of anything that's going on, just laughs.

[finn-m-corvex]

Lightning in a Cubicle Pt. 2

Guess what? Finn is in a creative mood so I'm posting double (possibly triple) tonight!! On top of the first Chapter of Even the Earth Trembles, have the second part of Lightning in a Cubicle! I know the office Jay has died down by now, but I still wanted to continue it because I'm having fun with it. Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

Words: 3.2k

No tws! But I do have a taglist: @/rainofthetwilight, @/giftofjay, @/i-love-jay-walker and @/lightning-chicken (just so you guys don't get tagged when I repost this), this is for all of you! Only the people who explicitly said they wanted to be tagged, so if you want to be on the list for pt3 make sure to specify that!

Jay was ready to throw his boss’s stupid potted plant out the window.

“...and that’s why we’re going to need you to start working longer hours,” Mr. Harding was saying, even though Jay could barely hear him over the blood roaring in his ears. “This new intern needs someone to show her the ropes, and we think you’re the best man for the job.”

Yeah, right, Jay thought to himself, I’m just the only one who isn’t married.

Publicly, anyway.

He forced a smile on his face. “Sounds great, sir. When do I start?”

Mr. Harding barely glanced his way. “You start tomorrow, and you better bring in some good reviews or I will have to demote you.”

“Pardon?” Jay wasn’t sure if he had heard that right.

“If this intern doesn't start showing some promise in the first week, then you will be stripped of your title and moved to the I.T. department.”

What?!

“But sir,” Jay said quickly, “I can’t afford to live on my floor with an I.T. salary!”

“That’s not my problem, uh, John,” Mr. Harding waved him off, going back to whatever he had been doing before Jay had come in. “You’re dismissed.”

Jay quickly bit back the retort he was about to give, instead snatching up his suit jacket from the back of the crummy chair that he had been forced to sit in. He had half a mind to not move his boss’s trashcan a few inches to the left so that anything he tried to throw in there would miss. Lightning crackled under his skin, and Jay knew that all it would take was a snap of his fingers to blow the fuse for the whole floor. That would definitely put a dent in Mr. Harding’s plans, and it would make Jay’s day.

Shutting the door behind him, he sighed heavily. Today would not be that day.

Instead of causing a major power outage, Jay walked back to the elevators, briefcase swinging in his hand. The thing had been useless anyway, because apparently in his rush to get to the meeting he was already an hour late for he had forgotten every single one of his important papers. He had only grabbed the papers covered in the doodles that he drew when he was supposed to be doing his work, go figure.

Mr. Harding had raised an eyebrow at the papers, with just a quick flash of interest that Jay had only barely caught. And then he was immediately chewed out to the bone.

Pressing the button for the elevator with much less force than he had on the way up, Jay let his mind wander about what he had to do for the rest of the day. No more meetings, thankfully, but he did have a presentation for the week after that he had to get done sometime soon. Oh, and if he was going to be doing that presentation, then that meant he needed to type up some kind of summary sheet to pass out to the other meeting participants, especially if he wanted to go for that promotion…

Someone snapped their fingers in front of his face, and Jay was shaken back into reality. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I was thinking about something, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for very long.”

The guy just kept…looking at him. Jay frowned, tilting his head and moving cautiously into the elevator. He swiped his keycard just like he had before, but took a quick glance at the overlay to see what floor the other man was going to.

Floor 1.

Holy shit, who was he in the elevator with?!

Jay snuck glances at him, trying to size him up. His shaggy black hair was strangely familiar, as was the hulking frame that Jay could tell was squeezing into the black suit by the slimmest of margins. He didn’t look like any person Jay had ever seen since he had been in the Administration, and while he definitely didn’t know the thousands of employees personally, he prided himself on being able to usually tell what department everybody was from. But this guy was a complete mystery.

Well, it was as good of a time as any to make some conversation. “Hey, are you new around here by any chance?”

“Huh?” the man blurted, and the two stared at each other. Finally, it clicked with the guy that Jay had asked him a question. “Oh. Y-Yeah, you could say that.”

Maybe he was just shy; Jay knew the feeling. He tried for a warm smile, one without all of the fake corporate bullshit he had been forced to live and breathe for the past five years. “Welcome to the company. What department are you in?”

“Uh,” the guy scratched at his temple, “security?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Jay had been trying for a joke, but the man only looked more spooked. Way to go, Jay. “I didn’t think security normally wore suits like that.”

“I had my interview today,” the guy said calmly, seeming to have finally found his footing. “So here’s to hoping I get the job. It’s crazy out there, so gotta get anything you can get, right?”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jay chuckled. He had become an expert in navigating topics that he knew absolutely nothing about; how do you think he managed to worm his way into accounting?

Quiet settled over them, only the low hum of the elevator reaching Jay’s ears. The other man cleared his throat, and Jay pretended to not notice the glances being sent his way. “Where do you work?”

“I’m in accounting,” Jay explained sheepishly. He hoped that the guy hadn’t done the research and found out that he was the only guy in the entire accounting department.

“Accounting?!” he asked, and for some reason he sounded distressed at the idea. Jay was quick to reassure him that he hadn’t cost the company (too) much money in mistakes, something everyone else had found hilarious when he told it at work functions, but the guy kept looking at him with bug eyes, as if the notion of Jay working with numbers terrified him.

Maybe he just didn’t like math. Jay couldn’t say that he liked it very much either.

The elevator dinged; they had reached Jay’s floor. Jay paused when he went to step out, turning back and taking a final look at the man. “Hey, what’s your name?”

He startled, before putting on a small smile that tugged at the corners of Jay’s faintest memories. “It’s Cole.”

“Cole?” Why did that sound so familiar to him? Where had he heard that name before? “Well, I hope you get the job, Cole. You seem like a nice guy.”

Jay waited until the elevator door was closing, watching. Cole shifted his view to keep his eyes locked with Jay for as long as he could, and Jay only barely caught what the man whispered before the doors slid shut with a quiet hiss.

“You too, Jay.”

How did Cole know his name?

Baffled, Jay started making his way back to his office, trying to put the stranger out of his mind. He had work he needed to get done, he didn’t have time for this. Greeting their usual security guard named Luke, Jay swiped his keycard and entered the accounting room, quickly sitting down in his designated cubicle before Shitty Sharon could see that he was back and put him to work. Except he never stopped thinking about the familiar man with the shaggy black hair, something niggling in the back of his brain telling him that the image of Cole in a suit was wrong, that the black ninja should’ve been wearing something else-

A sharp pain shot through his head, making Jay grit his teeth and raise a hand to his temple. He saw an image of Cole in some sort of free-flowing black uniform for only a second before it went away. Pain gone, Jay looked down at his hand as he lowered it, glancing over the scars criss-crossing it like he had a thousand times before.

Cole had similar scars on his own hands, Jay realized as he looked back in his memories.

Sighing, Jay resigned himself to yet another day of getting no work done. Grabbing a fresh sheet of paper and his well-worn pencil, he began to draw.

Never before had he been so glad to make it back to his apartment.

Jay was quick to dump his jacket in its usual spot next to the door, uncaring for the small coat rack that the apartment had come furnished with. Right now, he had placed it strategically over a spot where he had scratched up the hardwood trying to move his new coffee table in, and he knew that if he moved the coat rack now he would not remember to put it back before he had inspection. Usually the briefcase would’ve gone with the jacket on the floor, but instead Jay kept it with him, making an immediate beeline for his desk against the opposite wall.

His apartment really wasn’t much. Just one bedroom and bathroom, a small living room and kitchenette, but Jay hadn’t ever needed a whole lot. Growing up in a junkyard trailer had taught him everything about making a lot out of a little. The desk was by far his most used object, often taking home with him even after he left the office. You never really left that corporate mindset once you settled in, even though Jay had never truly fit the mold.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his curly locks. “I was supposed to go to the grocery store.”

Oh well, he had bigger problems to attend to.

Papers spilled out of his briefcase when he overturned it above his desk, and Jay was quick to toss it aside in favor of organizing the drawings so they weren’t overlapping each other. That presentation was going to be the most rushed thing he had ever done in his life, but it wasn’t important right now.

Right now, he had to figure out who the hell Cole was.

“Who are you?” Jay asked out loud, poring over everything he had spent the past few hours drawing. He quickly flipped the switch on his sidelamp, the sun having gone down long ago, leaving his apartment crawling in familiar shadows that made Jay’s skin crawl for a reason that he couldn’t say. Whenever Jay had to describe his home in the dark, the first words that came to mind were a ship’s brig; he always dreaded thinking about ships in the dark.

There was the one drawing of Cole in the black uniform, something that Jay had learned was called a gi in the multitude of research he had done on his work computer. The gi had triggered something else in Jay’s memory, a flash of bright blue and a harness. Something that he was very familiar with.

Leaving the desk and walking into his bedroom, Jay ignored the unmade bed and the clothes left all over the floor in favor of going to his small wardrobe. On the top sat an innocent looking cardboard box; anybody wouldn’t have thought for more than two seconds about it.

But Jay knew how important the box was.

With shaking hands, he grabbed it and carried it back out to the desk, setting it down with the utmost care. Slowly, almost reverently, Jay opened the top and glanced at the contents within.

A bright blue suit covered in burns and homemade stitches in a pattern he couldn’t recognize. A differently styled gi to the one he had seen Cole in, but Jay was positive that was what it was. It was what he was wearing when he had been rescued by the Administration agents.

“Who are you, Cole?” he repeated, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “Who was I?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t think he would ever know until today.

“Did I know you?” Jay muttered, looking at another one of the drawings. It depicted a raging storm of pitch black clouds that had cost him an entire pen to color, swirling and spiraling. Cole was falling straight into it, and Jay felt pure terror shoot dowm his spine when he saw the finished piece. He had almost felt possessed when he had drawn it.

Jay set the two drawings aside, picking up another one that appeared to be a large arena. Cole was there again, looking agitated as he faced Jay, earth responding to his beck and call and bending to his whim. To Jay’s astonishment, there was electricity sparking from his hands, bolts bigger than anything he had tried to summon since he had been hired by the Administration.

Could he really do that? Summon lightning?

Pain stabbed him in the temple, forcing Jay to clutch the crummy chair to keep himself upright against the intensity of it. He was standing on a ship; it was storming, the rain pelting his skin. Someone was talking to him, giving him an order. A lightning bolt shot out of the sky, and Jay felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes as the bolt deflected off of his hand and zipped right past the ship.

Jay turned around, suddenly exhausted. “You’re welcome!”

Only to watch in horror as some sort of flying monstrosity soared out of the sky, firing off large missiles straight at the ship. Jay did not think that he could deflect those.

The missiles struck the sails, and Jay could feel both of his hearts plummeting. “There!” Cole yelled, and Jay quickly whipped his head around to get a better look at the man. It was definitely the same guy from the elevator, just younger.

“Can’t see a thing in this storm,” Lloyd said angrily, and Jay was suddenly flung from the memory, landing back in his apartment and falling straight to the floor. He was shaking.

Lloyd?

“Need to draw,” Jay said, and he kept saying it as he forced his chair upright. “Need to draw, need to draw, need to draw…”

Grabbing a pencil and the back of the picture with the arena, Jay got to work. He completely forgot about the trip to the nighttime store on floor 166; he didn’t need breakfast in the morning.

Skipping breakfast was a mistake.

And so was staying up all night.

But Jay had a new mission: stop by the office supply store on floor 140 (he had to check the directory that every new employee was given) and get a corkboard and red yarn. And more paper. Probably some more pencils too, Shitty Sharon was always stingy with how many they could take home.

Not that Jay gave a damn about what she thought, but he did give a damn for his mental health and hygiene.

It finally hit him when he stepped out of the elevator, large mug of coffee in hand, that he had an intern to start training today. An intern that his entire livelihood rested on.

“Fucking hell, Jay,” he muttered, wanting to scrub a hand down his face, except both of them were occupied. “Could you have picked any better time to become a conspiracy theorist?”

Or to walk around carrying incriminating cargo. In an effort to help him remember all of the tasks he had to do today, Jay had written them down on a list carefully hidden in his briefcase, consisting of the following three iteams:

1. Figure out who Cole was, whether or not he had been hired, and where he was last seen in the building

2. Research as much as he could about anyone named Lloyd in the Administration database. Surely they had to have something, right?

3. Stop by the office supply store and pick up the items, and GET CEREAL FROM THE GROCERY STORE!

He had underlined number three four times for emphasis. His boss would be proud of his efforts.

Unfortunately, the universe was not on his side this morning, as the first thing to greet him when he opened the door to the accounting department was a screaming match. Shitty Sharon was red in the face (normal) with her two guarddogs Cutthroat Caren with a C and Bitchy Bethany. Normally, Jay would’ve seen the trio and high-tailed it straight to the men’s room for the next half-hour with the excuse of having bowel problems, but he paused. The three women were picking on some girl he had never seen before; was she the new intern?

“I told you, you have to check the printer before you do anything with it!” the new girl was yelling, and oh my God they were arguing about the printer. Jay had to intervene before this girl lost her head.

“And I told you, girl, that’s not my job! That is the office boy’s job!” Sharon shouted, and her two lackeys nodded behind her back. Typical.

“Ladies!” Jay said loudly before the new girl could interrupt, and all four of them whipped their heads in his direction. The younger girl’s pink hair swished in its ponytail, her face furrowing into one of confusion. “Please, is there any need for this? Sharon, you already know I am your number one printer fixer-upper.”

“Who are you?” she asked bluntly, and Jay chuckled nervously. Her gaze was piercing, her face adorned with markings that Jay vaguely recognized as Imperian.

Imperium?!

Jay was fucked. Royally fucked. He was so fucking hooped.

Sharon looked smug as a bug in a rug. “That is our office boy. Now, run along and go back to whatever kiddie department you came from. I heard they had plenty of room in the daycare on floor 128!”

Gritting her teeth, the pink-haired girl looked furious at the loud cackling of Caren and Bethany, and Jay was quick to snag her sleeve and start dragging her towards his cubicle. “It’s not worth it,” he hissed to her, and to his relief she stopped struggling against his grip and allowed him to lead her away.

His cubicle was not big by any means, and Jay was quick to grab one of the spare rolling chairs on his way and push it with his foot. Setting her down in it, Jay plopped himself down in his actual chair, looking at her with a strange look as she seemed to pick him apart like he was a machine with her gaze.

So he was going to have to break the ice. “I know, they’re pretty bitchy, huh?”

Raising her eyebrow, the girl looked surprised. “Aren’t they your coworkers?”

“Sadly, yes,” Jay said with a roll of his eyes, “but that does not mean I have to be nice. I got over that years ago. Besides, you can't always pick the people you’re surrounded by, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” she leaned back in the chair, “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know somebody named Jay Walker around here? I was supposed to meet him here in accounting, but it looks like it’s just girls? Not that there’s any problem with that, of course, it’s just-”

“I’m Jay Walker,” he chuckled at the girl’s relieved expression. “No worries, kiddo. I’m the only guy in the department, so it’d be pretty easy to find me. I’m guessing you’re my new intern?” A nod. “Great, nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

“Sora,” she said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Walker.”

Jay had a feeling he was going to like this kid.

[v3nusxsky]

Something foreign

*A/n~ feel free to request any prompts and I'll try to bring them to life enjoy this one this prompt is a little close to home for me so I hope I can do it some justice

Tw~ past abusive relationship*

Prompt ~ reader has had a bad relationship before moving to teach at nevermore. Larissa and reader are attracted to each other but reader is scared of the past repeating itself. Comforting Larissa

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

You'll never allow yourself to be like that again. You can't be back to the shell you were. Yet here you am. Stood in front your boss's office door knowing you've  got those kind of feelings for the goddess that she is. You could feel your hands trembling as you gently knock on her door and enter without waiting for the reply. She knew you was coming. After all it had become a nightly occurrence these days. At first it started as welcoming you to Nevermore. Noting your shy and reserved demeanour, you just assumed Larissa wanted to ensure her staff were okay. Never did you think it could be anymore than that. Now months later sitting on her sofa with a glass of wine it was all different. You couldn't let this happen again. You knew barely survived the first time. But the feelings raging in you for the principle seem to grow stronger every second of every day.

"Darling? I thought I'd lost you there for a second" her soft gentle voice was what broke your thoughts unknowingly stopping you going down a painful rabbit hole of path of remembering everything you'd been through.

"Oh I'm sorry Larissa. I seem to be in my own world tonight" you whispered remembering she'd asked me call her Larissa while in the privacy of her office.

"Away with the fairies then dear? Penny for your thoughts? She replied with a tone soft and curious.

An involuntary shiver ran over your body as you felt the colour draining from your face. Of course this would come up at some point. Although you've  never confessed your feelings to Larissa you knew she was starting to grow concerned over your odd actions. There was only so many excuses you could use. Sighing slightly you turned to look at the flames of the lit fire. It was time as they seemingly were dancing together in the most peaceful pattern. The orange glow created was casted around the room aiding the relaxing feeling you often felt in this room. With her.

"Before I arrived at Nevermore, I lived in a small town not too far from Jericho. While there I had a relationship well if you can call it that, It was 3 years long and I - it's sorry this is hard to talk about I'm not sure if I can-" you started trailing off words fading as your mind transported you back to your own personal hell.

Soft hands held on to my shaking ones, gently squeezing once retrieving your mind back to the present. "You don't have to tell me sweetheart it's okay. But I'm here to listen okay?"

With a small nod and a deep breath I continue " It wasn't a good relationship to say the least. It changed me for the worst. I use to be confident in my abilities and myself. She changed that. She tore me down into this shell that was so easily broken. 8 lost everyone including myself. Of course it started off fine but it happened so slowly I didn't see the signs. God I was so stupid. Some of the things that happened to me with her it's just all too much. " Tears escaped my eyes that are screwed shut as the onslaught of memories from the past played through your brain on a loop. "When I left and moved here it was a safe heaven of sorts for me. I had to rebuild who I am or was. I had no intention of falling for anyone. It would hurt too much to go back to that. But then there was you. I feel things for you that are so strong they terrify me. You could destroy me with the power you hold over me. Not just because your my boss. If I lost you ... I don't know what I'd do."

"Oh honey, I'm sorry. what about me darling?"

"I- Larissa i have feelings for you- romantic ones... It terrifies me. I don't even know if your gay! But I can't ignore my feelings anymore they are too strong. I'm terrified I can't go back to a relationship like that. And it's not that I think you would... because I don't Rissa oh shit i Larissa I'm sorry I just it slipped out but I god this is hard. You're so kind and gentle and the passion you have for Nevermore warms my heart. You're absolutely breathtaking and I know you'd never hurt me in the ways she did but I'm so scared." A sob following your rushed statement as you begin process what you've just done. You had let your guard down. Panic bubbles up inside your chest as you keep watching the flames in their game of chase. Dancing after each other but never quite reaching each other.

Silence covered the room after your confession as you become trapped deeper in your own head and Larissa you assume is processing everything you had just dumped out in the open. God you were such an idiot sometimes. You had just admitted feelings. Feelings equal vulnerability. Vulnerability is dangerous it allowed you to be hurt in the most traumatic ways. God you may as well have just handed her a loaded gun and said shoot me. But this was Larissa. Not her. No Larissa was nothing like her. You knew that she wouldn't hurt you. You knew that. Yet the panic still kept rising higher and higher feeling like it was going to explode inside your chest.

Larissa was the first to break the silence pulling you from my own personal hell.

"Darling? Can I?" She opened her arms to me in a silent question. Cautiously you crawled closer shoulders tense as you was wondering where the trick would be. It had to be a trick. Why would someone do perfect want to hold you? In fact when was the last time you were held by someone? For comfort? It must have been years because try as you might you couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe in someone's arms. It wasn't long before you was wrapped in her arms finally relaxed with your head nuzzled into her neck. She has the most beautiful floral scent that you couldn't help but drink in committing it to memory for when she undoubtedly leaves. One of her hands rubbed up and down your back ever so gently tracing your spine as if she was afraid she'd break you. Sobs wrecked your body  at the small action of affection and comfort. How pathetic that a hug had reduced you into this mess. Yet here you were breaking down int he arms of your goddess. Your saviour. But it wasn't just a hug it. No it was her. For the first time in so many years you felt safe and loved.

"Hush darling it's okay. You're okay, I have you" she whispered as you continue to sob into her neck. With a feather light kiss into the crown of your head she continued. "Y/n you're so strong. And although I know I don't really know anything that you've been through I know you're strong. And telling me must have been so hard for you to do. However darling having feelings doesn't make you weak at all and you have to know I'd never hurt you like that. I couldn't do that to you." Her tone of voice showing the sincerity of her words just had you sobbing harder.

"Wh-y " I finally managed to hiccup out not knowing if she'd follow my train of thought but not able to coherently form a sentence as I tried to gain composure over my emotional state.  Why would someone as amazing as Larissa want the broken pathetic mess that was you?

"Because y/n I have feelings for you too. I didn't say anything because you didn't seem comfortable and I didn't want to spook you. But darling I'd never hurt a beautiful soul like yours. You deserve to be treated properly darling and i would happily dedicate the rest of my life to doing so."

More tears leaked from your eyes at her beautiful words. How could someone be so perfect and have feelings for you? That just didn't make sense. Sitting here wrapped in her embrace you could tell she honestly meant every word.

"No one's ever held me like this before" you shyly admitted to her once you had managed to gather a bit of control over your emotional state. Being used was what you were use to. But this was so gentle and caring you could practically feel the love radiating from her. "Could you just... could we... stay like this?"

"Of course darling for as long as you need" she replied holding you closer allowing you to feel the soft beats of her heart. "Y/n?"

"Mhmm?"

"This heart beats for you dear" she whispered with a smile when she felt your smile in her neck.

Words~ 1651

*Authors note ~ soft Larissa has my heart this was wrote during a particularly hard break up I was going through. I had to learn to allow people to see my emotions and to hug me again. It was hard and I hope that if anyone else is going through anything similar in relationships that you have someone to reach out to. I will always have my messages open *

[misschanadlerbong]

When Stef Met 'Lena

<previous> | PART 2 | <next>

“Here is the fifth coffee of the day for you Mr. Salvatore,” announced Elena as she entered Stefan’s office bringing him the coffee that he requested her to bring.

It was pretty late on a Friday night, and the clock suggested 9 p.m. Almost all the employees of The Salvatore Industries had wrapped up their work and left already but Stefan was still working late in his office which meant that Elena also had to stay up late.

Today has been a busy day for Stefan, he had three meetings with some of their most important clients and also had to review the company's new policies. Elena has been observing him the whole day, how he barely had time to get lunch, and has been surviving on caffeine all day. 

“Thank you so much Elena, and are you calling me out for consuming coffee?”

“No, Mr. Salvatore, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you have barely eaten anything today and this much caffeine can be harmful for you. I think you should take a break and at least eat something.”

“I truly appreciate the concern ‘Lena but I can’t take a break, we have a deadline to meet for this new project and apparently as a boss, I have to go through everything in detail and find loopholes, if any,” said Stefan adding softness in his tone.

Elena nodded in acknowledgment and asked, “Can I help?”

“It’s a Friday night Elena, I wouldn’t want you to work overtime and waste a Friday night for something that’s my job. You should go home and relax. I will stay up late and get this done, but thank you so much for offering your help,” said Stefan flashing a grateful smile toward Elena.

“Well, taking care of your job is my job, Mr. Salvatore, so whether you like it or not, I am helping you and before continuing with work, I’ll grab something for us to eat from the café downstairs.”

Stefan walked closer to Elena and leaned himself against his table, “I thought I was the boss,” said Stefan sarcastically and added, “but honestly Elena you don’t have to go through all this trouble for me. I would understand if you wanted to go home.”

Elena placed her hands over Stefan’s in reassurance and said, “It’s okay Mr. Salvatore, I am more than happy to help,” saying that she left the office to get something for both of them to eat.

-

They both settled themselves on the couch inside Stefan’s office and kept the food on the coffee table. They had too much work to take a separate break for eating so they had to multitask and eat while working.

The silence spread through the office as both of them were busy working on their individual assigned tasks. Only the sound of scratching pens and ruffling papers was audible. The clock suggested 11.14 pm, and they were the only ones left in the office by that time. Elena was cross-checking a memo and once she was confident about it, she passed it over to her boss for him to glance at it.

Stefan sat beside Elena in his work suit with his messy locks hovering over his forehead, his brows knitted as he was focused on reading the memo given to him by Elena. The light coming from the lamp beside revealed his sharp jawline. His lips were murmuring the words written in the document while his eyes moved with concentration.

 Elena caught herself staring at the sight in front of her. She soon snapped out of the bubble of thoughts forming inside her head realizing that the man she was staring at so irresistibly was her boss.

Stefan cleared his throat before he said, “Elena, this is perfect. Thank you.”

Elena simply smiled accepting his gratitude toward her and went back to proofreading another document.

“‘Lena?” called Stefan.

Elena hummed in response and turned her attention towards Stefan, “Yes, Mr. Salvatore?”

“Can I say something?” he asked her with a hint of calmness in his voice. Elena nodded with a subtle smile on her face.

“I meant it when I said that you don’t strike me as someone who would be a receptionist. Because of the kind of help you have provided me tonight, I’m pretty sure none of my other employees would have been able to accomplish that too in such a short time. I hope I am not overstepping but I think you should give your life another shot and do something that defines who you are. In my opinion, you can bring so much to the table instead of just coffee” he chuckled softly, “No but jokes apart, I mean it. You have so much more potential.”

Elena was startled to hear these words from her boss. Not many people have seen Elena or rather have known her to her full potential, she felt nice hearing those words from Stefan.

“Well, that honestly means a lot, Mr. Salvatore, and thank you for having so much faith in me, and I will surely take your advice into consideration and find something that truly defines me as I am,” she paused for a second and continued, “I got one question though…would I still retain my position as your receptionist if I go on and look for other options for myself?”

Stefan chuckled admiring Elena’s sense of humor, it was in a long time that he had felt this lively in someone else’s company, “Yes ‘Lena, you will always have a place here at The Salvatore Industries, you are a part of the family now.”

Elena giggled and both of them returned to their respective tasks.

It was almost midnight when Stefan was picking up the last file to check the girl sitting beside him stole his attention. He stopped for a while to admire the dedication with which Elena was working. Her hands were moving non-stop highlighting the key points, her eyes focused on analyzing the piece of information in front of her. When Stefan looked at her, he found serenity and a sense of calmness. Like the kind of sight that brings natural peace, and you can just stare at it as long as you want to, and it will never cease to bring calmness to you.

Elena was a beautiful person both inside and out. Her compassion, kind heart, and caring nature made her even more attractive. Stefan found it difficult to resist thinking about her in this way, despite knowing it was not appropriate. These feelings were sparked by Elena's recent arrival in his life, and he couldn't ignore them.

Stefan leaned in towards Elena without realizing it, and to his surprise, Elena leaned in closer too. They paused for a moment, making deep eye contact. Elena leaned in even further, and Stefan understood her hint. As they got closer, Elena closed her eyes. However, as their lips touched, Elena suddenly panicked and opened her eyes, realizing something.

Elena felt overwhelmed with regret and worry. She couldn't help but think about the consequences of her actions, especially how Mr. Salvatore would perceive her. She wished she had more control over herself and hadn't jeopardized their professional relationship. Without hesitation, she stood up and wished to return home as soon as possible.

“Um…I…” Elena felt short of words, “I think we are done with most of the work Mr. Salvatore. I will see you on Monday. Have a good night,” she said as she left the building in haste.

Stefan stood in silence, consumed by guilt for his actions. He blamed himself for making Elena uncomfortable. However, a part of him wished he had acted differently. He regretted letting go of Elena and wished he had held her hand, kissed her with passion and care, and expressed his true feelings. Now, all he could do was wonder what could have been if he hadn't let her go.

@wiidestdrearms / @queenofstelena