#coworkers were like 'no its totally mutual'

[sunlightontheseaa]

Hm. So. Well.

[simp-ly-writes]

'Not-A-Couple' Couple

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Trevor Evarts x Short!Chef!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Its Who Meme'd It time yet again and the guest star today is you! It being your first time on a Smosh set, you don't expect anything to happen but how wrong are you when all the meme's appear to be about you and your totally-not boyfriend (and coworker), Trevor.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, no use of (y/n), light swearing, mutual pining, fluff, short, attempt at comedy.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 811

─ · · A/N: I fully support Trevors IRL relationships, this is fully fictional and meant for entertainment purposes! Thank you for the ask, anon!!! 🥹 I hope you enjoy~

─────── · ·

Trevor Evarts was your best friend; you both went to culinary school together and since then have worked side by side in the kitchen ever since. There was not a singular moment in the day that you both wouldn't be seen without the other in the general vicinity- so much so that it had become a meme around both the Good Mythical Morning Kitchen and Smosh studios.

Any possible duo theme, thing one and thing two, sun and shadow, stars and moon, scooby to their shaggy- whatever it was you both had heard of it already to describe the two of you. It also didn't help when you both shared clothes and accessories: that hoodie of yours? Now Trevors. Those cookie-themed socks Trevor got for the holidays last year? Yours. And you both couldn't get started on kitchen utensils either- you both infamous for your... cleanly work stations.

So when you got called in as a guest star for Smosh one afternoon after preparing food for thee Harrison Ford's last meal, you were more than confused and more than covered in layers of flour and sugar dragging your tried limbs to the set.

You loved watching Trevor preform more than anything, your eyes hyper-focused on his every expression as you mirrored his smile even as it grew once meeting your eyes from behind the camera. He was doing quite well this game, more so then he had done in the past once watching old videos, and you were anxious for him to win but it seemed that the Smosh cast would have otherwise.

To your shock and horror and to Smosh's love and joy, every subsequent meme since you had entered the room had suddenly became concentrated on you and Trevors NON-Existent (romantic) relationship.

The screen flooded with image after image: you and Trevor drawn like toad and frog. Trevor when he licks icing off of your cheek. Your cheeks warming when Trevor calls you anything but you name but also when he calls you name (and Trevor doing the same). Two Chefs one Bed. Trevor and you after-hours staying behind to eat leftovers under the studios fairy lights. Trevor placing items up high on purpose to get your attention. Trevor standing behind you as a protecting presence for your anxiety. You kicking Trevor in the shins (gently) when annoyed with him. You and Trevor holding hands when you both think nobody is watching- you name it and you were being lovingly attacked for it.

Cheeks were burning hot now as you stuck your middle finger up to camera and stood up to swore before Damien was pressing your shoulder down for you to sit, eyes filled with tears from laughing so hard as Trevor did his best to hide himself behind his answer board. You both refused to look at one another so much so that the next meme depicted this exact scenario.

"(name) and Trevor when they both get called out for 'just being really, super, truly, goof friends, be like:" Tommy reads out the text before pointing between the two of you with a large grin that has you questioning the most effective way to be rid of its teasing glory in your face.

"Comments are gonna be absolutely wild underneath this video," Trevor mutters underneath his breath, surprised that the audio team let alone you was even able to pick up on his mutterings from behind all this unfolding chaos.

"When have the comments never been wild between the two of us?" You yell out from behind camera while shaking your head.

"Oh?" Tommy quips, raising a brows and leaning over the table dramatically intrigued only for you both to return to your hiding stances as you grip Damien for cover as Trevor falls beneath the table.

─────── · ·

Who Meme'd It: Hells Kitchen Edition

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 8.36M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago your fav 'not-a-couple' is back! click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) out here lookin' like they are about to murder the whole cast at 14:11. I live for their energy! 😂

username24 19:21 "Your cheeks warming when Trevor calls you anything but you name but also when he calls you name (and Trevor doing the same)" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🥰😭

username99 soooooo.... are they together oooorrrr??

username00 Trevor and (name), please take this as a formal request for you both to get together (romantically preferably).

username45 Not (name) using Damien as a cover 😂😂

↳ username88 IKR?? they got me chocking on my tacos over here XD

username77 the mutual pining was real. I. fucking. knew. it.

username10 24:34 "Comments are gonna be absolutely wild underneath this video," - Trevor Evarts 2024. Yes, sir- they are.

username61 someone comment on this comment when these two idiots get engaged, I need to know when for... scientific purposes...

─────── · ·

─ · · TREVOR TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @thevintagefangirl @maricarorp @uniquely-haunting

[buggzincognito]

Riled Up

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: The BAU is currently on a case in Colorado, Reader and Spencer are stuck in the same room, will they be able to keep it cool?

CW: One Bed Trope, Mutual Pining, Canonical Violence, Friends/Coworkers to Lovers, Hand fixation, future Smut, Dom!Spencer Reid, praise, Spencer loves to tease reader, pet names like “angel” and “sweetheart” reader gets Spencer “worked up” *insert wink*

You and Spencer were really good friends, just that, friends, and despite his adorable smile, angelic face, and irresistible body, his fingers in particular…ahem, that had to be enough for you. You guys were coworkers and have a really good relationship; you didn’t want to ruin that just for him to reject you and make things weird. Pretending you weren’t pining after one of your closest friends was fairly manageable…

Until now.

“Bad news everyone,” Hotch started “We’re gonna need to pair up for the next few nights. The hotel doesn’t have enough room for all of us.”

Everyone started getting into their pairs. Hotch and Rossi, JJ went with Prentiss, Morgan with Garcia, so that leaves… aw man.

“Guess that leaves you and boy wonder, huh sweet pea?” Pen said with a wink.

Spencer looked excited. He nudged your arm with his and said with a giggly smile “What can I say? We make a good team”

“You bet we do” you feigned a chuckle.

As much as you adore that tall, lanky, ball of sunshine, sharing a room with Spencer was not going to be easy. What if your feelings take over? No no no, Totally nothing wrong with sharing a bathroom with the unrequited love of your life. Totally won’t be eating away at you and pulling at your heartstrings. It’ll be okay though, you’ll stay professional and just stick to your bed and keep as far away from his as possible. You got this.

You trudged closely behind Spencer to the door of your room, he fumbled with the keys in a way that should not have been as entrancing as it was, and he unlocked it. Spencer did a quick scan of the room and was shocked by its small size.

“Uhm” he said your name with hesitation.

What’s that about? “Yeah, what’s up Spence?- Oh”

One bed. One fucking bed.

Spencer admittedly freaked out a bit.

“You know what? I can just sleep on the floor don’t worry, you can have the bed, I’m sure you’re tired.” Spencer was always sweet like that, putting you first.

“Spence, don’t sleep on the floor, and you worked just as hard as me.” you were gonna regret saying this, “It’s a big bed right? we can probably share if that’s okay with you. It’s not like we’re gonna get much sleep on this case anyways”

Spencer’s face grew red and he was looking anywhere but at you “Yeah, I mean if you’re okay with it, you make a good point, we can share.”

“Okay cool cool cool, do you wanna shower and then we can go over the case?” Your eyes were lingering on Spencer’s digits tapping rhythmically on themselves, if he noticed he didn’t make a comment.

“Yeah sounds good, you go ahead first.”

On your way to the shower, all you could think about was sleeping in the same bed as Spencer, sharing a room would’ve been hard enough, but a bed? You’re not sure you’re gonna make it.

You couldn’t focus on the shower either, mind still focused on the tall lanky and sweet guy like, 30ft away from your naked body, it was driving you wild.

After half an hour of wiping the grime off of your body, you finally feel clean. You reach for your towel to dry off- or you try to. It wasn’t there. Oh fucckkkk you left it out there.

You crack the door open as little as possible “Uhm Spence, I left my towel out there could you get it for me?”

“Y- Yeah of course!” You hear him semi-shout.

About thirty seconds later you hear a knock on the door and when you open it, a purple towel attached to Spencer’s hand is presented to you.

“I couldn’t find yours so.. you can just use mine.” His face was looking away from the door entirely and even his eyes were closed.

You managed to mumble out a thank you and take the towel from his hand.

You dry off and dress in your favorite graphic t shirt and a pair of boxers that make your ass peak out ever so slightly. In your defense, you thought you would be rooming alone. They’ll be covered by the shirt, right?

When you exit the bathroom you see that Spencer already set out the case file and you smell your favorite take out food.

“You didn’t eat all day so I thought you should eat!” he said in a bit of a high pitch. “You need the energy you know- Not that you’re out of shape or anything!”

Fuck him for being so goddamn sweet and considerate. Fuck him for making your heart melt.

“Thanks Spence, that’s really sweet of you.” despite your heartache, he always knew how to draw a smile out of you.

Spencer beckons you to sit down at the small coffee table the hotel provided.

“Spence, I thought you were gonna shower”

He started fidgeting with his fingers. and you’re eyes were glued.

“Well, I wanted to eat with you, but I didn’t want you’re food to get cold,” you’re getting a toothache, “plus I can shower later, we should work on the case before it’s gets too late.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Spencer and you went over the case for about an hour or so, but it was hard to focus when all you could look at was Spencer’s beautifully sculpted hands. You yawn.

“You know what it’s getting late, we should head to bed.” Spencer interjected.

“But it’s only…” you check your phone. “…uh 3am”

“Precisely. Ok so, I’m going to take a super quick shower and I’ll be right back, don’t worry about waiting up for me!” and he was off.

You were out the second your head hit the pillow.

When Spencer came out of the bathroom, he cleaned up a little bit, turned off the lights, and got tucked in at a respectable distance, and he tried to doze off into a slumber.

Until he woke up 30 minutes later with a tent in his pants.

He initially thought it was because he was laying 1 foot away from the love of his life, but upon further inspection he realized it was because the love of his life was burrowing into his chest and dry humping him in their sleep.

“Mmph~ Spencer” you whined while rubbing your barely covered core against your roommate for the next few days.

Hearing his name on your lips sounded like an enchantment. Spencer had no idea what to do, so he just.. scooted away.

But of course you gave a dissatisfied whine in your sleep, moving closer to him and this time gripping onto him like a vice.

Spencer Reid is many things, but an assaulter is not one of them, you clearly weren’t letting up though, and you wouldn’t stop moaning his name. So he decided to give you an acceptable amount of attention to your neck and face in order to calm you down, praying you wouldn’t wake up.

He peppered kisses along your jaw and right behind your ear and he whispered.

“It’s okay angel, go back to sleep.” and by magic, you were out.

And as Spencer said goodbye to the last of his pride when he waltzed into the bathroom to take care of himself. He vowed that he would tease you ten times as much as you did him tomorrow.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next day you and the team were at the victims house investigating. You and Spencer were in the attic, looking at the victim’s belongings.

You two were shuffling about the cluttered space with barely any room. You keep catching him staring at you but when you look, he just smirks and goes back to his business, leaving you all riled up. Was he doing that on purpose?

What was even weirder is that Spencer I hate physical touch Reid kept finding excuses to touch you, like holding your hips when brushing past you in a narrow hallway or brushing his thumb over your cheek because “you had something there”. And now while you’re trying your best to focus on your job, your brain is yet again occupied by this fucking prick.

Spencer calls your name

“Can you come over here real quick? I need your help something.”You went and kneeled down next to him.

“So Im pretty sure we could find something useful in this chest, but it’s locked. Do you think you can open it for me?” You listened intently, while his gentle fingers danced along to an absent rythme and his eyes wandered your body, making you heat up.

“Y-Yeah no problem!” Is there something on your shirt or-

“Reid! Come here real quick!” Morgan shouted from below.

But Spencer’s gaze never left your figure, he just picked up where you left off.

Spencer said in a more sultry voice than usual, eyes filled with…want? “I knew I could count on you sweetheart,” he began to rise, “such a good girl for me hm?” and he took his leave.

What the hell just happened?? As confused as you are you’d be lying if you’re heart wasn’t beating out of your chest and the tingling sensation between your legs was nonexistent.

When Spencer returned, he acted like nothing happened and just…kept going on with his day? Were you imagining things?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a long day of work you guys finally made it back to your hotel room. Spencer was currently in the shower and you were using his absence as an opportunity to read your…explicit book.

When Spencer exited the bathroom however, he was wearing grey sweatpants and the most well fitted shirt that perfectly displayed his slender figure. That’s it. You died. You died and this is heaven.

You were entranced by his figure you didn’t even notice him sit on the side of your side of the bed.

“Whatcha reading?” he rested his head in his hands.

“You uh, you probably wouldn’t have heard of it.” That’s believable right?

“Read it to me.”

“What?”

“Read me the part your on,” Spencer repeated himself. “Please?” he flashed a grin and how could you resist?

“Okay…” you swallowed your pride. “He never knew how badly he needed her until she laid in front of him, bare body on display. He took his time tracing the curves of her body and peppering kisses to her freckles… That’s when he knew, he had reached heaven.” You dared not to look up at Spencer.

“That sounds…beautiful.” he started. “By the way, i have a question for you, been meaning to ask you this actually.”

Your ears perked up, “Yeah what’s up?”

“You look at my hands a lot, Why is that” Spencer tilted his head a bit. He already knew the answer.

“Uhm…” You were speechless, what were you supposed to say to that??

“They look…pretty.” You managed to mumble

“I think you look pretty.” Spencer patted his lap, motioning you to mount him.

You were entranced, how could you say no?

Spencer started tracing circles into your hips with his thumbs. and brought his lips to your ear

“You know, I’ve always known how much of a fucking whore you were for me sweetheart,” he whispered. “But I didn’t do anything about it, to stay professional.” he gripped your ass, invoking a gasp out of you. “You though, my beautiful angel, had no problem grinding your pussy into me and whining my name the second you got the chance hm?” He looked at you and his gaze softened. “Tell me to stop and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t be mad at you I promise.”

Despite the tent making itself known to your core, Spencer still prioritizes you. But still, “Spence, just kiss me please.” you were desperate.

He wasted no time pressing his lips to yours. He tried to be gentle, but how could he when you were just so needy?

You were grinding your core onto his and moaned into his ear as Spencer placed lovebites all over your neck just to sooth them with a lick of his tongue. He flipped over so you were laying on your back, caged beneath him.

Spence nudged at your shirt, eyes pleading for permission. You nodded, thinking he was going to take it off, but he dragged his fingertips along your abdomen and only lifted your shirt so it scrunched up just above your chest. You squirmed, hoping to achieve some friction from his knee between your legs.

Spencer peppered kisses along the center of your body, starting at your sternum, and working his way down to your belly button, to right above your your shorts, and then she pressed a hickey into the space, being sure to emphasize his tongue, causing you to whine. He did it another time just to achieve that reaction again.

Spencer rose up to your level and placed your chin between his index and thumb. He kissed from your jaw to the skin under your right ear and asked “Can I taste you, angel?” it was clear from his voice that he was restraining himself.

“Please Spence…need you.” All you could think about was him touching you.

Spencer placed a kiss to your mouth. “Oh you pretty little thing, I’ve barely touched you and your brains already mush?” Spencer removed your shorts. “That’s alright love, I’ll do all the thinking for you, you just focus on feeling good for me okay?” He positioned himself between your legs and pleased to find your lack of underwear.

“You were just waiting for me hm? Were you that ready to just whore yourself out for me?” Spencer licked a stipe down the center of your folds. “Fuck , you taste amazing” You shivered.

Spencer flicked his tongue on your clit, earning him a shriek. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and put his mouth on your clit, sucking and licking like it was the only thing he knew how to do. You rocked your hips as best as you can into his face. He moved lower and swirled his tongue into your entrance, collecting all your juices and making you scream. As he tasted you, his nose would brush against your clit. The sensation became too overwhelming and you were about to climax, but he pulled away. You sobbed and pleaded for him to keep going.

Spencer looked up at you, lips swollen and eyes full of lust. He kissed you passionately, the taste of you still lingering.

Spencer put two of his fingers against your lips.

“Suck.”

You happily obliged.

“I figured since you like my fingers so much, I should use them hm? Does that sound nice, love?” You hummed around his fingers and nodded eagerly.

“Thought so.” he smirked and removed his fingers from your mouth.

With his body caging yours, he reached his wet fingers between your bodies and spread your wetness around your folds, making you whine.

“Spencer, stop teasing.”

“You teased me first,” he entered two fingers into your core. “forgetting your towel so I’d have to give you one, do you know how hard it was for me not to waltz into that bathroom with you and make you mine?” Spencer began to curl his fingers inside you. “Prancing around in those slutty fucking shorts, you wanted to rile me up huh? That get you off, sweetheart?” He found your g-spot in record timing, your vision went blurry. “Not to mention last night, when you were so desperate for me that you started rubbing this pretty pussy on me, and moaning my name from those pretty lips.” Spencer went rougher. “You made me go into the bathroom to take care of myself when i could’ve just filled you up instead.”

“Mmph S-Spence” your voice was shaky, you were so fucking close and then..

He pulled away again.

“Nononononono” you were clawing at his hand and canting your hips, trying to get some friction.

Spencer tsked at you. “Awww,” he gave you mock pity. “Does my angel wanna come? Would you like to come around my cock, sweet thing?”

You were crying at this point. “Fuckfuckfuck, need you inside Spence.”

He thrusted his clothed cock against your pussy.

“Now that’s not how you ask.”

“Spence please…Fuck me”

Spencer began to pull down his grey sweatpants. “There you go, that’s much better.”

Spencer’s cock so big you didn’t know if you’d be able to take it all. He must’ve seen the worry in your face because he swooped down and kissed you.

While he was kissing you, Spencer lined himself up and put himself in you so slowly. You whimpered into his mouth and right before he was all the way in, he almost pulled out completely, before slamming right back in at a rough pace.

“G-God, you feel so amazing, angel.” Spencer was death gripping the headboard and your waist while he was pounding into you.

You were chanting his name and various pleads, you weren’t sure for what, but it just felt right.

Thrust, after thrust, after thrust. Spencer was pussydrunk.

“Fuck, do you hear that? You’re making such beautiful sounds, is that all for me?”

“Only you” your eyes were closed and you were so fucking close, your release washed over you faster than you expected. Spencer just kept going.

“Walls squeezing so tight fuck” You mewled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Where do you- mmph- where do you want it, love?” Spencer groaned through his sentence.

“M-My stomach” Spencer pulled out and obeyed your request. Your foreheads rested against each other.

You fell asleep under him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you woke up, you were cleaned and clothed. Spencer’s arm was draped over you and his face was burrowed into your neck.

This was right.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 7-11 with Spot

As much as I love the body swap trope I know that's not everyones cup of tea (and also i feel lazy with keeping the cause vague SOBS)

Speed running the first group of tropes for spot LMAO

UNREQUITED LOVE

He couldnt face you now that hes.. become this.. thing. Hes not even sure hes still allowed to call himself human. The fact that he had been shunned by just about everyone only reinforces that he keep his feelings for you to himself. Its unfair, it's terrible. He wants nothing more than to be by your side and continue on the life the two of you had together before the collider incident. He stays up most nights wondering if you'd welcome him into your life if he let himself in.. hes considered inviting himself into your home on at least one occasion. He sticks to the background watching you live out your life in peace without him

MUTUAL PINING

Except you werent living your life in peace, as far as you knew the man you had harbored feelings for died in the explosion that night. You've heard whispers that he was still alive, just no longer.. someone you'd recognize. You never tried to see if the rumors were true, too scared to get your hopes up only for them to be shattered. You used to work together, coworkers. You beat yourself up for not telling him how you felt before everything. Unbeknownst to you, Ohnn would feel the same as he kept tabs on you, never quite finding the right time to reveal himself to you. He loved you more than anything but you're the last person in his life who still loves him.. even if hes unaware. Youre his only friend who hasnt turned their back on him, simply because he never gave you the chance to do so

DRUNKEN CONFESSION

His crush on you was no secret, by the way. If it wasnt obvious that he had the hots for you, he had confessed it to one of his friends when the pair went out to get drinks to celebrate the success of the collider. He had gone out with a group of people actually, and you were there. At least for some point and perhaps out of ear shot as he rambled on about how much the poor man yearned for you. He seems like the type to cry when drunk, hes probably getting his tears all over the counter and he has to be sent home before he can try to make any moves on you

SHARING CLOTHES

Sometimes he likes to steal your clothing. Sure he doesnt need clothes but wearing them makes him feel a little bit more normal. Usually he takes jackets and hats, but if you go behind his back and get clothes that are more his style and size hes going to be over the moon.. whether it be brand new clothes or thrifted, hes going to stop walking around the house nude/hj

He totally doesnt keep stealing your clothes because you smell nice...

DOMESTIC

Spot isnt the neatest person, living in a sort of chaotic state although at least his messes usually have a system. So unless you already live like that you better be ready for your home to get a little less tidy. Not to worry because it's never going to get gross.. hes never going to leave food out or anything like that. A bit of a stickler when it comes to your end of the chores being done, you're allowed to return the same energy when he doesnt keep up with his share.. he can be a bit of a hypocrite sometimes..

[kodaiki]

୭̥⋆*｡ 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: during the summer following your senior year of high school, you find yourself drawn to the family video rental store nearly weekly. sure, you claim it’s due to the incessant determination to rent the breakfast club but maybe seeing the cute worker across the counter is a bonus, too.

wc: 4.5k

genre/tags: post season 3, pre season 4, fluff, slight humor, makeout session, mutual pining, friends to lovers, ft. robin!

it's a hot summer day, evident by the sweat that sticks to the family video worker's neck. the air conditioner's been busted, leaving the store to fend off the heat wave with other means. there's a rusty fan in the corner of the store, only aiding in blowing hot air around so, really it's no help.

steve harrington decides he hates his job.

"is it here?" you don’t even greet the man properly when you burst through the video store's door, causing a harsh jingling sound from the bell over your head, making you flinch in slight apology.

never mind, maybe he doesn’t totally hate his job.

steve, pausing from sorting through his cart of tapes, looks up at your eagerness, “hey y/n, how are you, how’s your day going?”

his chide remark makes you roll your eyes as you slouch. “hi steve, i’m good, it’s hot out, how about you?” you response monotonously, itching to get your hands on the tape you’ve been waiting weeks for.

“could be better if our air conditioner wasn’t busted.”

“that sucks.” you can’t help but feel for the guy, working in a stuffy store and tending to greedy customers like yourself. “so, is it here?”

steve only shakes his head with a snap of his fingers. "nope."

"what- you said the last customer's due date was today!" you huff, quickly striding up to him, deep frown on your face.

coming out of the back room, curious about the commotion from the front, robin buckley quietly peers through the shelves, looking suspiciously – and maybe a tad bewildered – between her coworker and you, a somewhat familiar stranger she hadn't had a pleasure of meeting.

"yeah," he answers with a nod as if it were obvious. "too bad you were just late enough to lose it to its next customer."

"this wait is making me wanna watch the breakfast club less and less," you mutter out dryly, crossing your arms.

"hey, since you're here, how 'bout a compromise?" the man quickly digs into his cart, pulling out a familiar case. "we just got sixteen candles back."

you take a glance at the redhead on the top of the tape’s cover standing between two men. "i've already seen it."

steve harrington is different than you remember, you observe as you give him a look over, busy shuffling through other tapes in search of something that'd satisfy you.

from what you recall, in high school, he was sort of a dick; well, until miss girl-next-door nancy wheeler stumbled into his life. you recall the whispers and gossip down the halls regarding the couple and most specifically, that guy she's – well, from what you've heard – dating now, jonathan byers.

you didn't really focus on that aspect of high school; you simply sought to excel and get out of your small town for bigger things.

funny, you can't help but laugh to yourself as you recall your practically stable job on main street that'll probably keep you in hawkins 'til you're so old and wrinkly, you forgot you wanted to leave in the first place.

regardless, steve, he's different now. you can't exactly put your finger on it, but he's certainly not the same jock and king steve he was called in high school.

not that you minded.

this steve – the one currently grumbling about how picky you are – is kind of a dork.

you like that.

"i'll take the sixteen candles." you end his torment graciously, smile curling up your face at the way he hangs his head dramatically low into the cart, relieved by your words.

"you like seeing me in misery?"

you lightly laugh at that. "maybe i do, harrington."

he stands up straighter, offering the tape for you, only to raise it high when you reach for it. "oi, give it!"

"two can play the misery game, y/l/n."

"you're impossible," you groan as you continue to try and grasp at the tape, reaching up on your tiptoes.

"didn't you call me a lifesaver just a week ago when i had karate kid rented out and lent you it?"

"ugh, do you remember everything i tell you?"

"i remember everything a pretty girl says to me."

his response makes your nose scrunch up, like you've eaten something sour. that sort of answer reminds you of the old coy and shameless steve, but it this light, him in a dorky vest – not as dorky as what you assumed the scoops ahoy uniform looked like – his flirtation didn't go unwelcome. if anything, it caused the roll of a somersault in your stomach.

"ew," you recover, hiding your flushed face by shaking it and waving a hand in front of you, playing it off as the summer heat, "you really are a huge flirt."

steve only laughs a little bashfully at that, maybe surprised by his own suaveness. he gestures you to follow him to the counter, where he types something on the computer, leaving you to shift on your heels as you wait.

truthfully, steve didn't know where that came from. sure, he thought of himself as a flirt but given his poor record as of recently, he didn't expect a somewhat accepting reaction out of you.

okay fine, you said, ew, but it wasn't near as embarrassing as girls flat out laughing at him or rejecting him.

it's strange, using a line on you, steve can't help but think as he subtly glances over at you as you look around the video store. he never saw you in that sort of light in high school, since your were usually hiding behind a book or sitting too far in the front of the room to notice you.

you weren't popular, but not necessarily unpopular either. you were obviously one of the smart ones, but not one of the ones who caught the eye of a certain jock. by the time you started tutoring steve, he'd already been dating nancy so everything was purely platonic.

time really does change a lot, he agrees.

"there you go," he says after clearing his throat.

"thanks steve." your teasing tone is gone now, replaced with pure sincerity, a pretty smile on your face that makes him want to stare a little longer.

"try again next week," he says, maybe a little too eagerly but it doesn't seem you catch it. "for the breakfast club, i mean."

you sigh at that, a humorous one, "we'll see. i’ll probably be around sooner than that to return this.” you offer a smile, waving sixteen candles in your hand.

as soon as the bell jingles a final time, signaling you've left, robin appears out of nowhere, leaning over the store counter with wide eyes.

“who was that?” she asks, minor bewilderment written on her face as she flits her gaze between steve and the door you just walked out of.

“hm? oh, that’s y/n,” steve answer easily with a lazy shrug, turning away from the computer.

“and how do you know y/n?” robin asks and her voice lilts a little accusingly as she raises an eyebrow. your face seemed familiar to her so she could only assume you were a graduated student from hawkins high, but it was the fact that steve knew you that piqued her interest.

steve looks her over with half-suspicion but answers anyway. “she tutored me in math during senior year, are you done?”

“if i had my dry erase board with me, i think i’d tick off you latest interaction in between the margins of you rule and you suck.”

steve verbally laughs at that, like it’s an actually funny joke robin had told him and not a half assed compliment, half insult his way. “funny.”

“i’m serious! i really thought your reputation of being a flirt was a fluke and you have no game.”

steve deadpans at that. "she's in here nearly every week, how are you just noticing her today?" he decides to deflect blaming her for her lack of awareness of your presence.

"she must be around during my breaks or something because i swear i've never seen her before. didn't know you had a crush, stevie. to be honest, i feel a little betrayed."

"i do not have a crush on her," he quickly answers, a little defensively by how quick he was to shoot her down. "she's just a usual customer that i know well enough to joke around with."

he definitely has a crush.

"joke around with," robin repeats, looking up in deep thought. she looks back down, clearly unimpressed. "sure, if joking around is code for shamelessly flirting."

"that was not flirting." steve knows that's a lie, still attempting to calm the ways his nerves are buzzing from a mere conversation with you, but he hopes robin doesn't.

"i watched the whole thing," she monotones.

"you were eavesdropping, you stalker?" he looks at her like she's crazy, but granted, he should be used to this by now.

"there's no one else in the store. you're my only form of entertainment."

-

the following week you arrive at the video store, steve can't fight off the beam on his face as you enter.

"hey," you greet glumly as you tread toward the counter where steve's standing. you smile anyway but he can tell it doesn't reach your eyes.

almost immedieatly, a frown replaces his smile and he quits toying with the vhs tape underneath the counter to cross his arms over it, leaning toward you in concern.

"what's wrong?"

what could’ve possibly gone wrong in the few days since you returned sixteen candles and today?

your nose twitches at the fact he read you so easily but you slouch your shoulders anyway. "i don't think i'll be able to rent more movies for a while."

his eyebrows furrow in confusion, tilting his head to the side. big brown eyes stare into your eyes and if it weren't for your poor mood, you'd probably melt on the spot.

"my dad, he's still job searching since starcourt burned down," you mumble, "i'm lucky enough to work on main street but i don't think his unemployment would be enough for the mortgage so i should chip in."

"i'm sorry," steve sighs with a frown. he remembers how angry the town was when starcourt was built in the first place, family run businesses being put out of business but now, it seems everyone's in the same boat.

"s'alright. i just thought i could be a careless kid for a little while longer."

memories of fireworks and the mind flayer pop into steve's mind, guilt seeping into his stomach even though he really has no reason to feel that way.

for an entirely different reason, steve wishes he could be a careless kid, too. not someone who has a constant dreading feeling about another dimension wreaking havoc on his own.

"i get it," he says. "why'd you come anyway even though you don't wanna rent?"

then a shy smile reaches your lips.

from behind him, stave hears a harsh whisper of, "you, dingus!" he turns quickly at that, only for the certain strawberry blonde to twirl around as if she wasn't eavesdropping on your conversation. robin's lucky you don't seem to notice, as you still ponder your answer while staring down at your shows.

"i'm so used to coming every week. believe it or not, harrington, but you're one of the constants of my week."

his heart pounds against his ribcage.

you're a constant of his week, too; the highlight if he's being honest.

"yeah?" he asks, leaning further on the counter, hoping that what you're saying is insinuating what was (cruelly) whispered to him from behind, "you're in luck then."

"hm?" you hum, raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. "why?"

"because look what i've got." and then there's a thud on the coutner, revealing the movie you've only been waiting to see for weeks. glee fills your system for a few seconds before being replaced with dread.

"of course it's available once i can't spend my money."

"it's on me."

you blink up at the man, shaking your head slightly. "what?"

"take it, really. i've only been hearing you complain about it not being here, it's only fair."

"no, no, i shouldn't-"

"i already rented it out," steve cuts you off, looking away briefly. "so either it'll sit in my car, or you can watch and enjoy."

it's the truth. once the last customer returned the rental, steve quickly used his own cash to rent it before someone else could even try. he'd expected you to offer to pay him back which he still would've denied but now, it seems like it was truly fated for him to rent it for you.

"steve," you trail off.

"y/n," he replies in a stern tone.

"you know i'll want to pay you back-"

"after you gave that story? no way, y/n," he quickly shakes his head in dismissal.

"i really can't take this," you mumble, playing with the edge of the tape box. you stare at it for a few seconds before an idea pops into your head. "do you want to watch it with me?"

his eyebrows furrow at that. "huh?"

an audible slap, oddly sounding like a facepalm, is heard further back in the store.

"i mean, i'd feel bad for robbing you so if you watch the movie with me, i wouldn't feel as guilty!"

oh, steve blinks.

"i… uh.”

“too weird? i know you haven’t been over since high school so it’s cool-“

you’re backtracking, steve soon realizes as you attempt to wave off your invitation. he frowns at the fact that you took his stammers as rejection.

“no, no, i’d like to come over,” he quickly says, cutting you off effectively. you head nods up in slight surprise, but then you smile, relieved.

“you remember where i live, right?”

“i was only there every thursday,” he scoffs out a laugh, nodding.

“great, so swing by around seven?”

“seven’s good,” he agrees, rocking on the balls of his feet. it isn’t until you leave the store that he buries his head into his arms, already brainstorming what he should wear.

-

at seven on the dot, steve shuffles on his feet as he stands in front of your home’s entrance. he's been to your home countless times, having studied there when you tutored him, so it’s a rather familiar sight, yet at the same time nostalgic. he glances around the exterior, as if searching for any changes your family may have made but as it seems, it looks just the same.

what steve thinks differently though is that beside your window, there's a tall tree with thick branches, conveniently placed as an escape or sneak-in route had you had a rebllious bone in your body. he's almost a hundred percent sure you never used the tree for that reason.

steve wonders if only his crush on you blossomed earlier, back when you were both in high school, would he climb the tree to reach your bedroom? would he reach over and knock on your bedroom window like he did with nancy? if he were the way he is now but in high school, would you have been on his radar instead?

a sinking feeling fills his chest at the mystery of the unknown; the mystery of what could've been.

there's no time for steve to dwell on it any longer because the fornt door is pulled open, revealing you, with that signature smile on your face that he can't seem to get enough of.

"sorry if i made you wait long, i was setting up the living room."

steve feels a little antsy entering your home this time. he has to keep reminding himself that he's been here before and theres no reason to be so damn nervous but considering his different feelings, he can't calm the beating of his heart.

"parents home?"

you shake your head.

oh perfect, steve's stomach only does more queasy things that make him feel weird.

"they should be back in the morning,” you continue aimlessly as you guide him to the living area, set up with some snacks on the table and your tv set already on.

“cool,” is all he replies, mentally facepalming at such a lane answer.

“all I gotta do is push the tape in so just get comfy,” you says, crouching in front of the tv.

by the time the movie’s in and playing, you’re sitting beside steve, leaving some room between the two of you. you feel a little awkward at first, not ever having this sort of hangout with him since you were usually at the kitchen table, correcting his homework.

it’s a nice change.

well, obviously, because of your raging crush on the guy.

you feel too stiff for a while, glancing over at him to see if he notices. he seems generally comfortable, leaned into the corner of the couch and his legs manspreaded slightly.

this is your home after all, so you get comfortable as well, scooting your body over and relaxing your stature a little more.

"am I hogging the couch?” steve asks, genuinely concerned.

“no, no! i’m just getting more comfy.”

“you can scoot close to me, i don’t mind.”

your heart thumps in your chest as you move closer to the man, fitting your back in one of the worn creases of your sofa, well accustomed to the dips of other individuals and yourself on it.

“better?” he asks softly, glancing over at you.

your eyes widen a little bit at that and you nod slightly. “yeah, thanks.”

you’re not paying attention the movie much, you realize at the midway point, you’re far too distracted at the small distance between you and steve on the couch.

you’re shameless in your staring after a while, simply watching his reaction to film in front of you: the furrow of his brows, the dips and raises of his lips at a particular screen, the way his nose scrunches.

you almost hate how attractive he is.

“you alright there?” he asks without bothering to flit his face to you. “you’ve been watching me for a while.”

“sorry!” you squeak, shifting your head back to facing the television. of course he’d notice! you weren’t exactly being subtle.

“do i got crumbs on my mouth or something?” he asks sincerely, slightly knitting his brows together at your sudden shyness.

“no, no, i was just uh, looking at you.”

it’s the ambience that’s making you so honest, you believe. the lights off with nothing but the television. lighting your faces, the quiet summer night, only chirps of crickets being heard outside, the fact that you’re alone, it’s all adding to your honestly.

steve glances over at you and even in the dim light, he can see your embarrassed and flustered expression. he decides to answer based on his gut feeling.

“yeah?” he muses, leaning slightly toward you in slight amusement.

you swallow at that, looking at him through your lashes as your chin dips slightly into your neck. “uh-huh, you’re uh…”

“hm?” he hums, urging you to continue.

“you’re pretty,” you murmur as you gaze at his thick locks, down to his cheekbones and then landing on his pouty lips. “not like girly pretty but you know like, handsome pretty-“

“you’re pretty, too.” he smiles at you.

you thought cupid struck you months ago but it appears he shot you a second time in that moment.

“oh, thanks,” you murmur bashfully, looking away from his intense stare.

steve gently brings a hand up, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, guiding you to look at him. your breath hitches as he holds your face in his hand, doing nothing but gaze at your face.

“is this okay?” he asks as he cradles the side of your face with his right hand, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb along your cheek, feeling the warmth from the flush of your face.

you only nod with a hum, eyelashes fluttering slightly against his movements. eventually your eyes close, giving him full permission to simply observe you.

he could stay like this forever, he thinks, watching your face while he caressed your cheek, a blush of his own painting his cheekbones.

during a breath out, he notices your lips part slightly and suddenly his gaze is zeroed in on your lips, fighting off the urge to graze at them with his thumb.

your stomach does a tumble at his ministrations but you don’t want him to stop. in fact, you’re craving for more.

so, you open your eyes, lidded downward into a squint as you look at him through the dimly lit room, all thanks to your tv set. steve stares back at you expectantly, maybe expecting you to pull away and return to the movie that’s just about over.

“kiss me.” it’s a soft request, one that makes your heart bang against your chest in anticipation, yet fear at the same time. this could quite possibly be the most embarrassing moment of your life if you’re rejected.

steve doesn’t waste another second, though, fully leaning into you, molding his lips over yours in haste. his kiss sucks the breath out of you truthfully, making you lunge right back into him and gripping the front of his t-shirt.

his other hand flies to your neck, angling you slightly, deepening the kiss. the movie’s long forgotten as your left hand reaches up to touch the soft locks you’ve secretly wanted to run your hands through for ages now.

you smile slightly against his lips, maybe in amusement of the surreality of the situation. never did high school you think you would’ve ever been in this sort of situation with the man in front of you.

similarly, steve’s heart is in shambles as he does everything to keep you glued to him, hands trailing down to your waist and tugging you closer to him to the point of mounting his lap.

never did he think that one of his grade’s brainiacs would be caught dead sucking faces with someone they’d probably think didn’t have any sort of future rolled out.

you’re kissing for a while, well until the credits of the movie are rolling down the screen, yet neither of you bother to so much as separate for more than a mere second.

by the time your lips are swollen and you’re gasping for breath, his head is squished onto the sofa cushion, you eagerly on top of him as his hands grasp at your hips, occasionally brushing along your back.

“shit, what time is it?” you mumble, voice a little hoarse, as you sit up above him.

steve doesn’t care about the time really, only leaning his body upward to chase your lips once more. he kisses you beside your lips, pecking lightly against your jaw and you laugh, shifting slightly when he kisses a sensitive spot below your ear.

“okay, no seriously, shouldn’t you be getting home before it gets too late?”

he sighs at that, head hanging solemnly in agreement, pressing against your shoulder. “yeah,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shirt.

“i’ll see you tomorrow to return the tape,” you promise, pecking the side of his head, smiling at the smell of his shampoo. it’s a warm, fuzzy feeling that’s buzzing through you and you’re afraid it won’t ever go away.

then again, if steve’s the reason for it, you don’t think you mind.

“i’ll hold you to that,” he grumbles, still a little glum to be leaving you. “we didn’t even finish the rest of it.”

“i have a feeling we won’t ever finish a movie together,” you grin up at him as he stands from your couch, instinctually running a hand through his hair, which is in a little disarray from your doing.

“that’s a cheeky observation.”

“is it wrong?” you can’t help but ask, dopey smile on your face.

steve smiles at that, leaning down to be at eye level with you. “no.” and then he gives you a chaste kiss to your lips. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you quickly follow him out, bidding him a good night as he walks over to his car, and watching him drive off while leaning against the door frame, that same lovesick grin never leaving your face.

funnily enough, steve’s lovesick smile never left his face either.

-

“how was movie night?” robin pipes during their next shift together.

“it was fine,” steve answers simply, hiding the blush on his cheeks from the memory of the night before.

“fine,” she deadpans. “all of that flirting for just fine? maybe you are hopeless, harrington.”

before steve can fire something back, the jingle of the storefront alerts your entry and immediately, steve whips his head around to meet your gaze with his.

you wave the tape at him, walking toward him with a smile. “hey,” you greet easily, though still feeling all the buzzing nerves you felt the night prior. you could play it cool and pretend like everything that happened last night didn’t affect you as much as it did, but given you were practically up all night squealing into your pillow and kicking your feet, you don’t think you’d be a very good actor.

“hey,” he answers softly, holding out his hand. “what movie do you want today?”

“very funny,” you scowl playfully as you hand it over. “just returning this one.”

“just returning?” steve asks, playful lilt to his voice, making you squeeze your eyes shut. how you’ll ever act the same around steve will be an ongoing difficulty.

“yes, and i think I scrounged up enough change to pay for it-“

“i think i have better payment,” he says thoughtfully making your eyebrows raise in curiosity.

“oh?”

steve simply pokes his cheek a few times, turning one side toward you. you can’t help but roll your eyes in amusement at his brazenness.

“you’re really something, ain’t ya?” but you indulge him anyway, leaning over to peck his cheek sweetly, only to pull away with a slightly flustered expression from the pda. and then steve turns his cheek the other way.

“one more.”

“you’re impossible,” you huff with a laugh but lean in anyway, only to squeak when steve turns his cheek at the last second, connecting his lips with yours.

“i think you like it,” he whispers when you’re centimeters apart, grinning at the deep flush on your face.

you step back from the counter, covering your face with your hands bashfully. when you feel cool enough to face him again, you give him an awkward, albeit endearing all the same to steve, smile and shoot him some finger guns.

“i’ll see you around, harrington.”

“see you soon, sweetheart.”

and then you’re rushing out, most likely to run home and scream into your pillow once more.

steve can’t help the smile on his face as he checks the tape back into the system, only pausing when he feels a stare straight at his temple. he looks up to face robin’s accusatory, yet amused, expression.

“your night was just fine, hm?”

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

[dynyamight]

Had some thots c: wanted to share

Izuku is in a unfulfilling marriage. His husband is waaay too work obsessed and their intimate life? It's either non existent or is not enough to make him feel satisfied. He should have been happy. It is not like his husband didn't love him,or that he didn't have any love for him back,or that they had money issues... but it was all really fucking boring. That,until Izuku by accident bumps into his childhood friend and former crush: Katsuki. They began talking,a lot. Texting almost everyday. Sometimes meeting up for coffee. His husband doesn't know any of this. He learns about Katsuki's job and catches up to him on their families and nerdy hobbies. Izuku's conscience is heavy with guilt for how he finds himself falling for Katsuki just like he did through their childhood to high school to when they went their separate ways,and how his husband has no idea about it. And if that wasn't enough? Katsuki was his husband's boss. That was awkward.

Izuku tried to end things. He really did. It hurt,but he couldn't keep hiding from his husband any longer... even if his and Katsuki's feelings were mutual. But that quickly proved to be useless when one night, his husband stayed on work later than usual,and someone knocked on the door. His heart almost pulled out of his chest when he saw Katsuki at his door.

There was 0 resistance. Katsuki and him had a brief screaming match with their feelings laid all out and when things became unbearable he took Izuku. Right then and there. It was rough. It was sweet. It was everthing Izuku was craving. They couldn't even care if Izuku's husband came in. But that sure was annoying when he did...

aaaah, so, this is a very long idea thought !! i would have loved to write a small fanfic snippet, but this deserves a whole multi-chapter !!

so instead, here’s some more thots ;)

- Bakugou works in a hero agency/work office setting, his boss being Midoriya’s husband, but he has no idea. He just finds the guy rather boring & shit, with demanding better times & numbers. And, if this is a No Quirk universe, then it’s a finance records office. Regardless, it’s a job that Bakugou excels in, but he doesn’t care about his boss.

- He knows the boss has a husband, from the whispers around the work place. But, he’s just more surprised the guy’s married. A boring, shit man probably with a boring shit spouse.

- Midoriya comes back into his life when he walks into the office, hoping to surprise his husband with a coffee run. Alas, he bumps into Bakugou instead, with his husband in a meeting.

- Bakugou initially feels uncomfortable, as well as Midoriya. An awkward air laid thick; they hadn’t kept in contact for years, despite being childhood friends. Though, for Midoriya, it’s even more awkward, having to face his very first crush. Something he always felt guilty about, while friends.

- Fortunately, they start seeing each other more often, after the first bump. Midoriya often visits the office, coffee and lunches for his husband. And, he seems to always appear during Bakugou’s lunch breaks. They start with small talk, but it slowly morphs into fun conversation.

- Bakugou believes Midoriya is an errand boy of sorts for his boss, and never thinks to ask about their relationship. He just assumes they were two good friends, who Midoriya willingly helps out. And, whenever Bakugou shits on his boss, complaining, he brushes off Midoriya’s silence to his refusal to bully anyone.

- In reality, on Midoriya’s side, things get a little complicated. He feels he should mention he’s married, taken, & obviously the husband of the boss. But, each time he’s with Bakugou, the thought flies out; his head filled with only their conversations. And, right when the time is right, Midoriya chickens out, unable to admit his truth.

- At first, when he takes off his wedding band to meet Bakugou, it feels foreign, weird. He feels terrible when he comes home, hurriedly rushing to put it back on. But, after more and more times he meets Bakugou, the more times he takes it off. And each time, it slowly feels better.

- However, his friends worry that he shouldn’t continue his relations with Bakugou. They mention cheating, and Midoriya denies it. He’s not cheating. Right?

- Bakugou’s friends insist that he’s totally crushing hard on Midoriya; they keep messaging each other every day, and they are now going out together, outside the workplace. Bakugou refuses at first, simply saying it’s all just catching up. Catching up on the years. Not catching feelings.

- Yet, they both do.

- In his wilted, slowly toxic relationship with his dismissive husband, Midoriya relies on Bakugou’s shoulders. He listens all Midoriya’s vents, rants, and tears of feeling unwanted, and always offers the emotional support he has yearned from his husband. Interlaced with his usual curses & vulgar language, Bakugou speaks sense to him, succeeding in making Midoriya feel appreciated.

- And, in his completely dead love life, late night hookups littering it, Bakugou finds himself deeply caring for Midoriya. More than just a one night stand; Bakugou could see Midoriya as something more. His gentle comfort he offers, his bright aura that fills his heart, and the kind soul he continues to give to Bakugou, leaves him falling.

- Bakugou does try to insinuate multiple date proposals, feeling confident each time. It feels reciprocated. It feels genuine. As if, maybe, perhaps, Midoriya likes him. But, he’s gently turned down, with Midoriya using a fake busy day to excuse himself, every time.

- It’s then that Midoriya realizes that none of this is okay. He has a husband; someone who he promised to be with till the end of his days. And, as much as he wanted Bakugou, the man was nothing more than a temptation. Right?

- His husband finds out of all the phone calls and meet ups his employee has done with Midoriya. After his confrontation, he listens to Midoriya’s tearful confession, admitting to his emotional cheating.

- However, his husband gives him an out; if it didn’t mean anything, he will forgive Midoriya. If it did, Midoriya will leave, tonight.

- Bakugou meant everything to Midoriya. He was more than anything his husband ever amounted in their marriage. He was the man that Midoriya would want to see the rest of his life with.

- Midoriya lies. In self doubt & fear of being on his own, the divorce process overwhelming him and the reactions of his family and friends hearing about it all, he sticks with his husband.

- Besides, his entire life was surrounded, built around his husband. Leaving his husband meant losing his house, his car, his worth in society, his source of affection and love. It was as if leaving his husband meant losing everything.

- He is told to never speak to Bakugou again; his husband wants to fire him, but Midoriya begs for Bakugou to be unharmed. It had nothing to do with work, and so it would simply be too cruel. Hence, his promise to stay away.

- After dead silence from Midoriya, Bakugou finds out from his coworkers that Midoriya was the husband of his boss. It feels like an out of body experience, now with everything making sense. The constant meet ups at the office building. The date rejections. Midoriya was a married man. Who simply could never be Bakugou’s. He had to give up.

- But then, everything becomes infuriating. As the days go by, Bakugou grows upset; Midoriya deserves better. All the tears, the rants, and the self loathing was all caused by his neglectful, boring ass husband, who didn’t deserve someone like Midoriya. He knew he could be better. No, he is better.

- The bang at Midoriya’s door startles him, and his gut drops. He thinks his husband has come home mad, but instead it’s Bakugou, standing there. His heart lunges, wanting to hug him right there.

- Midoriya hurries to try to close the door instead, and quickly Bakugou juts his foot into the doorway. He steps into the apartment, furious. And, it’s there that he demands Midoriya to be honest.

- Honest? Midoriya’s confused.

- If he meant nothing, Bakugou would walk away; a similar ultimatum his own husband had given him. But, this time, Bakugou adds that if he does mean anything, even a sliver amount, Midoriya needs to take that chance, and walk out with him.

- They start yelling. Midoriya insists that he needs to stay in his marriage. Bakugou calls it lifeless and bullshit. Midoriya states that his husband is a good man, that doesn’t deserve a cheating man. Bakugou demands that it’s Midoriya that’s the good man, who’s worth more than his shit husband could even imagine. Midoriya swears that there is nothing he can do. Bakugou says there is something; he can walk out with him, right here, right now.

- Finally, with their heated argument reaching its highest, Midoriya confesses tearfully that it’s all so hard; wanting Bakugou, ever since he was little, only to be married and unable to explore his feelings, now.

- That’s when Bakugou takes his shaking hands, securely and firmly, and admits that while he can’t outmatch Midoriya’s lifetime crush on him, he admits he’s falling for Midoriya. And, these feeling of his are worth fighting for him. He knows he should leave, let Midoriya continue to be married peacefully. But, he can’t let go, without putting all of his efforts out there.

- Unless Midoriya was to reject him now, completely sure, Bakugou swears to continue fighting for Midoriya.

- Those words, promising absolute dedication to Midoriya and their potential, leaves Midoriya in tears. He’s been with his husband for years, and he has yet to feel worth fighting for.

- It had always felt his husband simply ignored his needs, only ever recognizing them if they were to his benefit. It was always as if his husband was just so certain Midoriya could never leave him, and hence, never felt a need to impress, surprise, or even cherish him.

- Finally, Midoriya pulls Bakugou into a hug, whispering if that’s truly how he feels. Bakugou hugs back, swearing that it was his honest truth. He wouldn’t make shit up, especially not to Deku.

- Midoriya tells him to please take care of him. Bakugou promises.

- With his husband coming home from his late night shift, he abruptly walks in on their embrace, furious. He demands Bakugou to get out, or else the police would arrive.

- Bakugou leaves, but not without Midoriya. His husband holds him back, demanding that he stays. Midoriya refuses, finally taking off his wedding band for the last time. He confesses that Bakugou did mean everything, and it was his own fears that forced him to stay.

- But now, he’s brave, and willing face the world without him. He’s brave, if Kacchan was right there with him.

[fantasia-monogram]

As the clock strikes midnight, part 1

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue

♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members

♥️ Suggestive (~2k words); smoking, mentions of alcohol, (lightly) implied BDSM. Mutual pining. Next part is going to be NSFW (and reveal more about the characters’ history).

♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

“Ah, the exciting world of corporate banking.”

You were too tired to check the time, but one look over the room gave you a clear idea of what kind of stage the party has reached: vast office space, with all the desks pushed against the wall and a long table situated in the middle, was littered with barely-sober people, most of them in groups of two or three. The goal was to let coworkers of various titles and positions mingle in a casual manner, as the fairly young company’s hierarchy and employer count was expanding proportionately to its growth - friendly office culture was a staple in this place. Truth was, after a couple drinks (or, in case of some tougher individuals, whole bottles of soju), everyone would group into their regular lunch break cliques, usually within the same department.

Long gone were the days when the business was much smaller, and it was easier for people from different departments to form close bonds.

Luckily, you remembered them very well, and that’s why, as the party was dying down, you shared a (small and not very comfortable) couch with your two best colleagues: Lee Jaeyoon and Yoo Taeyang.

“Look at him. What a fighter,” Jaeyoon said with a hushed voice, pointing his almost full glass of whisky towards another corner of the spacious room. There, behind one of the squished-together desks, Quality Department leader Kim Inseong was still angrily babbling about work-related statistics to the nearly-wasted Training Supervisor, Baek Juho. The latter, with his forehead propped on his hand, kept waving at his superior to stop, as coherent words would not come out of his mouth at this point no matter how hard he tried. Inseong, incredibly professional yet warm and welcoming when sober, would do a total 180° after a single bottle of soju and turn into a snarky bastard ranting at everything going on in the company.

“Supervisor Baek is holding on strong, though,” Taeyang added in a matter-of-fact tone before taking a sip from his glass.

You couldn’t help but cover your mouth and snort with amusement.

The three of you were an unusual group. 

You all joined the company on the same day, and underwent basic training for a couple weeks. Even though Jaeyoon was close to your age, the gap between you and Taeyang was much bigger. Add their impressive height and you had to admit, it was awkward to sit between these two guys every single day. Soon enough though, your small talk during short breaks would turn more and more enjoyable, and when the last week rolled in, as the oldest one, you mustered up the courage to invite them to a nearby coffee shop. Formally, you just wanted to celebrate the end of your training stage, but honestly… You grew fond of them, so there was no harm in getting to know them better away from the workplace.

Who knew the three of you would find common ground during that fateful meeting?

“Hey… Y/n… You there?” Jaeyoon’s voice snapped you out of a trip down the memory lane.

“Yeah. What were you saying?” you asked, a bit embarrassed.

“You don’t seem to be having fun at all. I haven’t seen you around the bar even once,” Jaeyoon ranted, haphazardly shaking his glass.

“You know I don’t drink.”, you stated calmly.

“Aish… It’s a party! No need to be so strict. Am I right?”

For some reason, Jaeyoon looked towards Taeyang with a wicked grin, and you followed. The youngest one, sitting by your right side, cleared his throat theatrically.

“I’ll go get myself another one.” he mumbled, already leaving the couch.

“Don’t overdo it!” Jaeyoon yelled, then turned back to you. “You could really use some percents, though. Just saying.”

“I have an image to maintain,” you said quietly, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You dressed like it’s every other day at work, too,” your friend pointed out, “It’s just a different colour.”

You looked at him resentfully. That’s true, tailored suits were your usual look, not just because you simply didn’t like dresses or skirts. It was the easiest way to elongate your silhouette, and you were already lacking in height compared to all the higher-ups attending company meetings with you.

A powerful look was expected from the Compliance Supervisor who rose to that position in a record-breaking time and was nowhere near done career-wise. 

Besides, you had to admit, your neat suits in a whole variety of colors boosted your confidence every single day. You had all of them adjusted, so they would accentuate your figure in all the right places. Oh, all the times you and Jaeyoon would shamelessly ask poor Taeyang who’s got the best ass out of you two (“Okay, forget it. Taeyangie does,” Jaeyoon would end the competition each time, making Taeyang cringe).

"You're just jealous because I look better in red than you do," you barked, although lacking any real bite. 

"Listen, what I'm trying to say is…" Jaeyoon leaned dangerously close to your ear. "...I don't mind your uniforms, but someone over there is on the brink of losing his mind right now." 

You backed off, wide-eyed. Your friend discreetly threw a glance towards Taeyang, who just came back with his glass refilled. 

Still dumbfounded, you kept looking back and forth at each of your friends, not realizing how silly it must have looked.

"Did I miss anything?" Taeyang asked, clearly feeling something went down during his absence. 

"Yeah, I just said that maybe we should leave this remnant of a party and move somewhere else," Jaeyoon replied, looking over your shoulder at the youngest. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, but ultimately decided his idea wasn't that bad after all. 

"I don't know… Wouldn't it be rude to leave so early?" Taeyang mused. 

"Seokwoo left, like, at 9," Jaeyoon pointed out. "Way before anybody had a chance to get drunk." 

"Ah, our lovely Escalation Specialist," you sighed, talking about Kim Seokwoo, your right hand man at the Compliance Department. "You could say the party escalated too much for him."

"At nine!", the older of your friends laughed. 

“What time is it anyway?” you asked. It didn’t matter that you could just check it yourself. You were used to people doing things like this for you around this place.

Jaeyoon, who knew it very well, fished his phone out of his shirt pocket.

“Uh… Fifteen to twelve,” he announced.

Taeyang tapped your shoulder. 

"Happy early birthday," he threw casually. 

Pleasant warmth rose to your cheeks. You were just starting to smile, your eyes crinkling already, when Jaeyoon jumped in his seat, startling both of you. 

"Wait, what?!" he yelled, making a few heads turn for a second or two. 

"What kind of a friend are you, really?" Taeyang snorted dryly, "It's y/n's birthday tomorrow." 

Jaeyoon let out a sound that could best be described as a happy roar and pounced forward in an attempt to give you a bear hug. You dodged it by moving backwards, thus colliding into Taeyang's side. 

You briefly glanced at each other, awkwardly nodding as an apology, before he uttered a quick it's fine and slid further into the couch. 

"Hey, that hug was supposed to be a present!" Jaeyoon whined, recovering his dignity after the failure. 

"Thanks, but no, thanks." you retorted, staying at a safe distance.

"Okay, but now we really have to go somewhere else. This calls for a celebration!" Your overly enthusiastic companion wasn't giving up that easily.

You turned to your other friend. 

"Taeyang?"

"That's enough social interaction for today," the boy in question replied, "One more crowded place and I'll pass out on the spot." 

He was known for his introverted tendencies; even at work, he occupied a desk that was a bit further from everyone else, guaranteeing him all the peace he needed, and had only one coworker he was somewhat close to apart from you two. 

"What about we go to my place instead? I've got no alcohol, but there are plenty of leftovers for a late dinner if you're hungry," you offered instead. 

"Sounds like a plan!" Jaeyoon clasped his hands. "I'll pay for the cab." 

Taeyang bottomed out his glass. 

"Wanna go for a smoke while we wait?"

As soon as you put a cigarette in your mouth, Taeyang was there to light it. You could swear his eyes lingered on your lips, but maybe it was so late that your eyes started pulling tricks on you. 

A good five minutes passed of the three of you smoking in silence, enjoying the cool summer breeze and the sight of a nearly full moon above you. Taeyang was the first to finish, with you following. Jaeyoon was the last to end his cigarette, throwing it into the trash can nearby in a somewhat angry manner. 

"Taeyang, I can't possibly imagine a better time to tell them than now."

Both you and Taeyang turned your heads towards Jaeyoon.

"Tell what?" you posed a question, confused. 

The guys exchanged looks. After that, Taeyang averted his eyes, while Jaeyoon locked his with yours. 

"I think he should be the one to explain." Jaeyoon stated firmly. 

"It's fine," Taeyang's voice was unexpectedly weak, "I'm fine with you telling them." 

You felt your heartbeat quicken all of sudden. 

"He's head over heels for you." 

And then, it was as if your heart just stopped. No, that couldn't be. Your pretty, soft spoken dongsaeng you always had your eyes on? In love with you?

"No way." you muttered, turning to face Taeyang. He still couldn't bear to look at you. "Is that true?" 

Internally, you were screaming for him to say yes. 

Poor guy seemed like he was about to get a panic attack, breathing in and out loudly, hands balled into fists. You could see him biting his lips.

"Come on." Jaeyoon ushered, "I did the hard part for you. Now it's your turn." 

Taeyang slowly raised his gaze. His doll-like eyes were glazed over with tears - a sight so stunning it almost made you gasp. 

"It's true. It's been going on for more than two years now." His voice was quiet, but steady.

You kept staring at his gorgeous, flushed face, unable to say a word. It was a clue for him to continue. 

"I knew I had a chance. I'm not stupid. I noticed you treated me differently than Jaeyoon or any other friend at work. But I also knew your no relationships at the workplace policy and your attitude towards age gaps, and decided to keep it to myself." 

Your heart was about to burst. 

"I'm just as demanding in love as I am at work," you explained, "I'd ruin you."

Jaeyoon circled you. As soon as he stopped, he put his left hand on Taeyang's shoulder, while his right on yours. 

"Tell them," he encouraged the younger guy again. 

As if on command, there was fire burning in Taeyang's gaze. You felt it consume you as a whole.

"I'm not fragile," the boy declared, “I want to be ruined.”

You thought you were dreaming, but a squeeze of Jaeyoon’s hand on your shoulder anchored you back to reality, this reality being your crush at first sight confessing to you.

“Your confidence… How strict and relentless you are…” Taeyang went on, his voice breaking, “The tone of your voice… And your suits. Oh, your suits. It all turns me on so much.”

“What a guy,” Jaeyoon chuckled, shaking his head.

Both you and Taeyang decided to ignore him for now.

“I repeat,” Taeyang insisted, “I want to be ruined.”

Despite Jaeyoon’s continuous hold on both of you, you reached towards Taeyang’s face to caress his smooth cheeks with the back of your fingers. That was all he needed to surge forward and plant a brief, fluttering kiss on your lips that still managed to leave you with your head spinning, needing more.

“Happy birthday, y/n,” Taeyang whispered, holding his forehead against yours.

It was only then when you realized you were both breathing heavily, even though nothing had happened yet.

The moment was interrupted by the ringtone of Jaeyoon’s phone. At last, the guy ceased his hold on you to check the device.

“Okay, lovebirds, the cab is here. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

You glanced at Jaeyoon, then locked your eyes with Taeyang’s again. He reciprocated your devious smile.

(to be continued)

[kimkitsuragi]

Final Cut News!

All right, so, by now most people are probably aware that we got a glut of new information about Disco Elysium: The Final Cut yesterday. However, so much content from so many sources can be a bit overwhelming, so I’m making a roundup of links to all the new articles, art, music, and videos I can find, highlighting the details that I personally find interesting.

(under a read more because this will be quite a long post!)

To start with, new official art of Harry and Kim has been released! This art was created by Anton Vill, who did the art for the in-game Thought Cabinet.

ZA/UM's Head of Publishing, Mikk Metsniit, also posted art of Martinaise in the official Disco Elysium Discord. This art has been shared in lower quality before as part of a promotional image for the collector’s edition of Disco Elysium, which will include it as an “illustrated fabric map”. The file Metsniit posted is named “Martinaise Revitalization ‘48.″ In-universe, a design studio previously made an attempt to restore Martinaise to its pre-war state, but ultimately failed. This piece appears to show the planned development of Martinaise--except it’s being swallowed up by the Pale. Fun!

Along with the first piece of art come two new songs by British Sea Power, which will be featured in the final cut:

Advesperascit, named after the city in Vesper-Messina where Dolores Dei was crowned Innocence in-universe. Apparently the name is Latin and roughly translates to “evening comes”

Ignus Nilsen Waltz, named after a prominent communist figure in-universe.

I think these songs will likely be tied to the new political vision quests, which are four new questlines that are each associated with one of the game’s four political ideologies. More information about them, along with other details, can be found in the following articles and videos:

Disco Elysium - The Final Cut Is Like Going From A Black-And-White Movie To Color, article from GameSpot’s Phil Hornshaw. In this article, voice over director Jim Ashilevi talks about adding full voice acting to the game and says that The Final Cut will feature 59 voice actors from countries around the world, chosen to reflect the backgrounds of Revachol’s diverse inhabitants. Lead artist Kaspar Tamsalu speaks about the political vision quests, saying that they will allow the player to meet new characters, learn more about the existing ones, and dive deeper into the politics, secrets, and history of Elysium. Tamsalu also says that The Final Cut will add the ability to fast travel and include Twitch integration, allowing stream viewers to vote on streamers’ decisions and even influence the build of the protagonist.

Biggest Changes In Disco Elysium - The Final Cut, video from GameSpot’s Phil Hornshaw, accompanies the above article. This is a fairly short overview of The Final Cut’s new features as detailed in GameSpot’s article. It includes samples of new voice acting, clips of new animations from the end of the game involving the protagonist and his coworkers (1:47, 2:05), a scene showing a new area added by one of the political vision quests (1:57), and a particularly funny voiced line from Kim (3:22)

‘Disco Elysium: The Final Cut’ comes out March 30. Here’s what’s new.  Article from The Washington Post’s Elise Favis. Includes more details about the political vision quests. According to developer Kaspar Tamsalu, these quests may be started after one in-game day, and are mutually exclusive so that only one may be completed in each playthrough. Jim Ashilevi talks more about the challenge of recording all of the game’s dialogue--more than one million words in total--without outsourcing the work to other studios. Ashilevi also says that he sees ZA/UM as an “art collective”, and “compares his team to the Wu-Tang Clan, in that each person has other creative endeavors, both personal and professional, outside of creating video games.”

Disco Elysium: The Final Cut even gives your horrific necktie a voice. Very brief article from PCGamer’s Fraser Brown. Not much new information in this article, but there is one interesting tidbit: apparently the Horrific Necktie’s voice will be provided by Mikee Goodman, who is one of the game’s voice over directors. Goodman also provides the voices of the Ancient Reptilian Brain, the Limbic System, and several other characters.

Disco Elysium is getting even more political, a long article from PC Gamer’s Fraser Brown. Lead writer Helen Hindpere talks more about the political vision quests, which she says ZA/UM was inspired to add based on fans’ enthusiastic reception of the game’s existing political themes. Hindpere says that the new quests can change the game’s map itself, allowing the protagonist to leave his own mark on the district of Martinaise. The quests will also allow for deeper and more serious exploration of the protagonist’s political views, which were often taken to humorous extremes in the original game. Each quest is different, with some being more wordy and some more visual. The Ultraliberal quest will allow the player to “build a personal brand”, while the communist quest “inspires you to begin a movement”. One quest also adds a new urban location to the game, which Hindpere says reminds her of Berlin. The quests don’t just revolve around a single topic, though; according to Hindpere, "You'll be talking about love, sexuality, hope, ambition, and even about certain geological features specific to our worldbuilding. There's an opportunity to get close and intimate with characters who have thus far seemed unapproachable. Let's say that once you share the same ideology many barriers disappear, allowing you see a different side of many important characters." There will also be a significant amount of new dialogue with Kim Kitsuragi related to these quests.

Disco Elysium PS5 Gameplay - 5 Things You Need To Know, fairly long video from PlayStation Access’ Ash Millman. This video provides some basic information about the game’s premise for new players and shows what the game will look like on PlayStation 5, with a user interface redesigned for the console. The video also includes clips throughout that show some new content, presumably from the political vision quests. Three of these clips seems to be connected: in the first of them, wires are shown that run from the battery of the protagonist’s crashed car to radio equipment set up on and around the statue in the center of Martinaise; in the second, Soona, the radiocomputer programmer from the church questline, can been seen climbing the statue itself to set up some more equipment; and in the third, Soona, Harry, and Kim stand near the modified statue, talking about attempting to contact the flying warship Archer via radio. There are also two other clips: in one, the statue has been splashed with multicolored paints, while in the other the protagonist is seen talking to Idiot Doom Spiral, a local drunk, about hiring him for an unspecified job. Millman also talks about the three different settings that will be available for the game’s voice over: “Classic Mode” will play the same as the original game, with only a few lines voiced, while “Psychological Mode” will provide voice acting for all characters except the protagonist’s internal monologue and skills. The last option, “Fully Voiced Mode” is, well, exactly what it sounds like. There’s also a brief clip that provides a sample of the Horrific Necktie’s new voice (1:26).

DISCO ELYSIUM - The Final Cut (Cuno Voice Example), YouTube video shared by developer Mikk Metsniit. Video is age-restricted. This video includes new voice samples for Cuno, a few of the skills, and Kim. Due to COVID-19, Cuno’s original voice actor, Dot Major, was unable to return, so Cuno is now voiced by Oli Dabiri. Lenval Brown, the narrator of the English language trailers, acts as the game’s general narrator and voice of all 24 skills. Jullian Champenois remains as Kim.

[impaladolan]

Control Freak - Grayson Dolan

summary: showing up to work is a bit different, and Grayson Dolan is a totally different person than y/n had initially thought..

warnings: swearing & fluff :)

a/n: for the sweet anon 💕 sorry it took so long!

It was never a choice, always a demand.

He didn't ask you to dinner, he only told you the time you needed to be ready on the following Friday of your "hookup". He's a very captivating man, you thought, but it was tremendously difficult to do your job for the next four days.

He gave you absurd tasks to do everyday, like you were his secretary, and barely acknowledged your existence. It almost made you question whether you like Mr. Kidman better or not. He was particularly nice with all your other coworkers and employees, he just didn't bat an eyelash at you. Not that you were mad or anything, because when you run through the events that had happened in his office only days ago, it's extremely difficult not to feel ashamed.

Fucking your boss upon the very first day of meeting him is a little much, yeah?

Whatever it was that went through your head that day, you internally knew that it was a big mistake. Office romance never really works out, and Grayson Dolan seems like an asshole. Well, to you anyway. You weren't sure if that was his type of "love language" with women. Fucking the daylights out of them and then ignoring their presence. Who knows, he's a man with needs.

But as soon as it was Friday and you stepped foot onto your office floor, it was an entirely different ball game. There was no one around. All the desks were empty and all the laptops and towers were off. Even the lights weren't on and there wasn't a coffee brewing aroma spilling from the break room.

Did you really come in on a Saturday?

When you looked at the date, it surely said Friday on it, but it sure didn't look like it. Even with your doubts, you continue down the room, heading towards your desk that was near the end, where Mr. Dolans office was. You were frightened when you saw what could only be your boss sat in your office chair, his feet up on your desk and his back turned to you as his hand held a framed picture. "This your boyfriend?" His low morning voice asked as he analyzed the picture, pulling his feet off and turning in the chair. Every single time you lock eyes with him, your breath would get locked in your throat and your cheeks would burn a dark red. But even if your body reacted hotly to him, your mind really does have a twisted mind of its own.

At first, you were going to admit that the man in the picture was your beloved brother, but something deep inside you made you lie; “No, that’s my husband, Mr. Dolan.” You cockily raised an eyebrow, seating yourself on your desktop and crossing your legs. “M’hm, so you’re married to your brother? That’s a bit weird, huh?” His brows furrowed as he slowly set the picture back where you had had it in the first place. In reaction, you just blandly roll your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation. “That’s a terrible habit, you know.” He sighs as he gets up from your chair, towering you with his might and power. “What, biting my lip?” You met his harsh stare after doing a little browse of body, starting at the bottom with his shiny shoes of course. “Rolling your eyes, darling. It’ll get you into some trouble one of these days.” He explained in a deeper voice than his usual, unpocketing his hands and planting them on either sides of you as his face becomes level with your own. “Well unless you feel like doing something about it, I don’t see the reason to stop. I find it as a great alternative, honestly.” You sigh, looking down sheepishly at your nails, instead of his handsome face.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll figure something out to do about it. That’ll have to be solved later though, because we have a few plans for today.” He said as he stood back up properly and reached his hand out to you. You were going to decline it, but you were curious so you took it anyway, letting his strength pull you back up towards him. You settled your hand against his surprisingly soft chest, looking upward at him with a small smile. He smiled too, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush a little more. “What sort of plans, if I may ask?” You question as you watch him pull away and softly interlock your hand with his own.

“Well, instead of just a nice little dinner I figured we could hit up some of my favorite food shops around the city and talk about some things.” He explained as he began to walk, holding your hand close to his body as his other hand was stuffed into his pocket. Your mind processed his words as the two of you near the elevator, exchanging a few glances here and there. You’re the first to push the button this time, snickering as you did so until you both enter the tiny room. When you looked at all the buttons that had the floors labeled on it, your stomach began to rumble with butterflies. You both mutually looked at each other, and the moment the sliding metal doors were shut, you attacked.

Your hand untangled from his own and slipped up to his cheeks, his own hands resting on your hips that he had only been grabbing at days ago. You slammed your lips against his soft ones and shut your eyes tightly. Apparently he had the same awakening as you, because he had had the exact same thing in mind ever since you had pressed that button. The two of you had your lips attached to each other, combing your bodies and running your hands along the entirely of your beings. At one point, you gained enough strength to run your hand down his chest and onto the front of his nicely tight pants, essentially palming him through the layers. Though you firstly thought it’d be funny for him to have a hard-on while the two of you walked around the city, he put an end to your suggestive actions quickly. “Not right now.” He sharply demanded against your lips as you “innocently” giggled, breaking away from his grasp and fixing yourself back to normal before the elevator hit the ground floor.

Once the doors slid open, you led the way through the large lobby and out of the circular exit doors with a funny smirk. He eventually caught up to you down the sidewalk and reattached his hand to yours again, swinging them this time as you let a cheesy smile take over your face. “So where are we going first?” You asked, resetting the mood and focusing on him.

The two of you walked around the large city for six almost seven hours, talking and laughing, eating delicious food from all different shops and markets and just having a good old time in each other’s presences. You even showed him a few of your own regular places. You had noticed that his actaul personality was entirely different from his work one. He was truly a hilarious person, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt and had you crying like a baby. It was honestly an upgrade, considering you thought he was an asshole a couple hours ago. After you had visited almost every possible spot by walking, the two of your decided on stopping at one of your favorite low volume bars for a drink or two before the night ends, instead of parting ways. After ordering your choices, you popped the question you had been waiting to ask him the whole day; “Why were you being a serious asshole towards me all week? I mean, I don’t feel that way as of now, but I’m curious to know.” You asked with a bit of nervousness in your voice, fidgeting with your drink as your swish the melting ice around. He took a deep breath and sighed, tapping his finger on the tabletop.

“Not to upset you or anything, but I think someone might’ve saw us y’know.. fucking in my office.” He spoke up, taking a gulp of his beverage shortly after. “So instead of being all “lovey dovey” and shit, I decided that if I acted like a dick towards you, then whoever was spying wouldn’t report anything. It was mainly an act, I’ll let you know. I’m not an actual fucking asshole.” He scoffed as a look of terror contorted your face. “Someone fucking saw us?!” You whisper loudly, your eyes widening and the grip you had on the glass tightening.

“I think so, but I could possibly be wrong.” He shrugs, watching as you settle your fingertips upon your forehead, rubbing them back and forth with concern. “Grayson, do you know what that means? I could actually lose my fucking job!” With a frustrated sigh, you let your eyes become watery. You knew you wouldn’t cry, but your heart did sink into your chest and your mind began to scramble. “Y/N, I’ll take care of it. I have people that can help me fix this situation, and you won’t lose your job in the process. Trust me, I have everything under control.” He soothes you, rubbing his hand up and down your back nicely. You trusted his words, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit stressed. For some relief, you picked up your drink and directed the bottom of the cup to the ceiling, setting it down a bit roughly when you had finished it and took a deep breath. “Lets just forget about this for now, we can talk about it later.” You say before waving for the bartender, asking for a shot for the two of you.

In that moment, you hadn’t planned on getting wasted or even plastered. But by the time Grayson could get you to get out of that seat at the bar, you were a pretty good mix of both. Yes, you were seeing a foggy double of most things and the ground looked a lot farther down than it had before. You didn’t even realize the amount you drank, you just noticed that Grayson took a lot slower pace than you did.

Maybe the news that he had admitted had made you all the sudden want to waste the night away and forget what he had said; or you just wanted to relax because being with Grayson all day was exhausting. Not that he was a nuisance or anything, he was just extremely intimidating and you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. Whatever it was, you sure had drank all the worries away, and became the stupid drunk that everyone finds annoying. Yep, you could name about every attribute of a young college girl wasted at some kind of frat party and you’d be the exact match. Being very loud and obnoxious, spilling many truths that you probably shouldn’t of, being a little too handsy in public, and just pure honesty about everything. Luckily you hadn’t thrown up at all, or that would’ve made everything worse.

You hadn’t noticed until the morning after, but Grayson had been very nurturing about everything. You were a bit embarrassing, but he truly didn’t show a care. Instead of taking you straight home, he let you have your fun, knowing you probably needed some sort of a stress reliever after what he had just revealed to you. He knew when enough was enough for you and politely pulled you from the building before you could become uncontrollable. He helped you wobble up the sidewalk until a taxi was available, to which he hailed and as careful as he could, loaded you into it. It was a short ride to his place, you only remember that because the story you were telling him had continued all the way until you were both alone in his beautiful penthouse. You thought it was very clean for a man, but suggested that all stereotypes aren’t true.

Once he had taken his coat off and set his things on the countertop in his kitchen, he helped you remove your shoes and basically carried you to a nice little room. He took your jacket off for you and helped settle your tired self into bed. “Thank you, Grayson.” Was the last thing you remembered before all the lights went out.

“You’re welcome.”

(masterlist)

[kisskissbanggang]

Can You

[~10Min Read/3.3K Words - Sub!Jaehyun x Dom!Female Reader - NSFW 1/2 Plot 1/2 Smut - Office hookups, impromptu dom/sub, mutual pining, dirty talk, mild degradation]

Masterlist | Feedback

You’d never really looked at Jaehyun until he wore a suit to the office. Of course, you saw him nearly every day, but the day he dropped his messenger bag on your desk as he raced around, looking for his tie clip he’d left in the office last time he had a hearing, you truly noticed him for the first time. It wasn’t exactly in your job description to acknowledge how effortlessly tidy he kept his hair, or how neatly he kept the stubble on his chin smooth, or the natural charm of his dimples, but now you were trying desperately to keep your mind off of it after he ran to catch his Uber. Surely, you would forget about it, and not have to worry about disappointing your father, who’d pulled some strings with a friend to get you this job in Jaehyun’s office in the first place. 

But then Jaehyun came huffing back into the office at the end of the day, after his hearing, while you were on your way out. His suit jacket was slung back over his shoulder, with his tie pulled loose in his shirt collar. The look alone made your heart quake. 

“That ran way longer than I’d been hoping,” he laughed exhaustedly as he shrugged back into his office, “I’m so happy to get this stupid suit off.” 

“Want some help?” You laughed, instantly mortified at your outlandish remark. Thankfully, Jaehyun laughed. 

“Not tonight,” he chuckled, his shoulders appearing to relax as he thankfully seemed charmed by your joke.  

And you refused to think about it, wouldn’t have deigned to think about how Jaehyun would look taking that suit off when he got home that night, and how maybe you wanted to take it off for him. Instead, you returned back to your little apartment on the other side of the city and hopped into a freezing shower. 

Sure enough, the next morning Jaehyun strolled into the office in jeans and a sweater. 

“Well, you certainly look more comfortable,” you chirped politely. 

He let out a relieved sigh. “So much more comfortable. Can I please have some coffee?” You tried to look away from his cute smile as you nodded, his dimples pulling you in an untrustworthy direction. He shut the door to his office as he cued up some music on his speakers so he could get caught up on work. The thought of Jaehyun’s broad shoulders, the way he bit his lip when he was thinking — it was all hopefully getting pushed out of your mind as you took an extra long moment to pour Jaehyun some coffee. You peeked through the window lining his office door and looked back over your shoulder to check with his assistant real quick to see if Jaehyun was on a phone call before you softly rapped on the door. The sight of Jaehyun’s worn sneakers propped up on his desk distracted you for a moment before you responded to his smiling wave beckoning you in. He sat up in his seat, grinning gratefully as he took a brave sip of the hot brew in his favorite mug. 

“Sorry for whining,” he sheepishly offered, maybe emboldened by finally getting some caffeine in him. 

“I’m just surprised, is all,” you smirked, “I thought suits sort of just came with the whole lawyer thing, like a package deal.”

“Well, honestly, I totally used to be that guy at my last firm,” he admitted with a shrug, “but things change. There’s more important things than looking the part.”

“I agree,” you curtly smiled at him, trying not to look like a bashful schoolgirl as you breezed out of his office. 

The next few days, work consisted of you ghosting around and away from Jaehyun’s office, and trying hard not to be preoccupied by his comfortable sneakers casually kicked up on his desk as he seemed to be asking for coffee refills more often than usual. Of course, you did still have to bring him his personal mail everyday. Maybe that would be a fitting opportunity to get this dumb crush out of your system. You resolved to finally start making yourself clear without being unprofessional, that you would make it known to him that you understood where the boundary was and weren’t going to cross it. 

The following morning, the perfect chance came as you set a package on Jaehyun’s desk along with his coffee. Jaehyun quickly sat up and clicked off his Twitter feed. He’d apparently been looking up a girl. You knowingly tapped the package. 

“Secret gift for your girlfriend?” You prodded, just innocent enough to be passing small talk, but surely something that would let your intentions be known. Except Jaehyun laughed, which in this moment meant he choked on his coffee. 

“Girlfriend?!” He guffawed. “Lord, no. This is just an emergency tie to keep in my desk. I’m single, and I’m just fine with that. Are you?” The look in his eye was goading, teasing, and it lit a fire in you that you weren’t quite familiar with. 

“Oh, er—“ you stumbled over your words as you grabbed some napkins from your back pocket. You always carried some when fetching coffee for the partners, just in case something like this happened. It didn’t quite strike you as an odd move when you leaned over his desk to wipe up the sputtered coffee, but it was increasingly apparent as you noticed you were practically bent over Jaehyun’s lap. You both froze before you quickly snapped back up, apologizing profusely as you excused yourself from his office. 

You dreaded the rest of the day, wondering if this was it, if you’d grossly overstepped your boundaries while desperately trying not to without causing a scene. 

But nothing came. No yelling, no lecturing. In fact, your father called. He heard you were doing great. 

Honestly, it was easier to just ignore it, to just cage the butterflies in your stomach that came around every time Jaehyun made small talk or asked you to hold his calls, or ask for his fourth cup of coffee for the day. Jaehyun never overtly made a pass at you other than harmless jokes, and he never got too personal. It was easy to try ignoring him. All you really knew about Jaehyun Jung was that he was a young lawyer, and an incredibly competent one at that. He refused to divulge much else. His office had no pictures, no knickknacks — only his minimalist decor and tech, his diplomas and certificates, and one lone orchid that sat on his windowsill and he cared for religiously. As opposed to the older partners, his reference books were all on his hard drive. He didn’t go out, he refused to let anyone celebrate his birthday, and he only stuck around at the annual holiday party for the White Elephant and a single beer. To say Jaehyun was closed off was putting it mildly. He wasn’t an island — he was a fortress. 

Over the course of another week, you became so good at ignoring your schoolgirl crush on Jaehyun that it was as if it never happened. You could even resume life as normal, to a point that you found yourself knocking on Jaehyun’s office door with a fresh cup of coffee before he asked. He sat up with a start, planting his sneakers on the carpet as he eyed you. 

“I’m single, you know,” he blurted, “but I’m not looking.”

“That’s fine?” You raised a dubious eyebrow at him. “This is just a cup of coffee.”

“I, uh,” Jaehyun stammered, blindsiding you with his uncertainty before he pointed to the hook behind his door. “Can you take my suit to the dry cleaner’s? I was going to do it at lunch but I need to really review these exhibits before I have to present them tomorrow at my trial.”

You’d nodded dutifully, taking Jaehyun’s suit in its garment bag to hang on the coat rack by your desk until your lunch break. The faintest hint of Jaehyun’s cologne hit your nose and you grimaced before quickly hanging it up and pretending that no longer existed, either, or at least until lunch. 

Jaehyun didn’t even come to the office the following morning, no doubt having to go through his own practiced ritual before a jury trial. It wasn’t until later that day, just in time to close the office, that a group text came through the office. Jaehyun had lost. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise — Jaehyun never wanted this to get to trial in the first place — but everyone seemed pretty relieved to have to clear out. 

Except for you. You stared at the mountain of files to update on your desk. It was nice, honestly, to work with no coworkers and no phones ringing, just you and some quiet music to power through your work until you were ready to lock up the office. You were closing the door, by itself at the end of a winding hallway, when you felt a presence sneak up behind you. You whirled around, facing a very defeated Jaehyun, his sleeves rolled up and his tie hanging slack around his neck again. He regarded you warily, tiredly, in the seemingly cramped space of the hall. 

“You alright?” You softly asked. 

“I cannot wait to get out of this stupid suit,” Jaehyun sighed, an exhausted smile revealing his dimples. There it was. That dreaded longing. You just needed to hold it back, not make any rash—

“You want some help?” You smirked. 

God dammit. 

Jaehyun held your self-conscious stare. The two of you attempted to read each other, get any sort of handle on the situation. You decided this was it, you would briskly turn and leave and forget you were this big of an idiot, and hopefully he would as well. 

Except Jaehyun reached for you. He reached for you, his fingertips brushing over your waist and his lips grazing over yours before they pressed to your cheek, and ultimately the soft spot on your neck just below your ear. 

Your fingers grasped at his shirt, the metal of your office keys digging into your palm before you pulled him close, and pushed him back away. You were staring each other down again, now with the added layer of Jaehyun blushing through to his ears. The silence of the hallway was crushing. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun shook his head as he pressed back against the wall in the compact corridor, “I meant it the other day. I’m not looking for anything. You’re gorgeous, and I can’t stop looking at you, and my caffeine intake has tripled in the past weeks, but I’ve… You have to understand. I’ve hurt people before.”

The ball was in your court, except this felt more like a grenade. Jaehyun was looking at you, and was asking you into his office lately just to see you and talk to you. And you quashed all these feelings, for what? For some high school nonsense like this?

“That’s fine,” you decided. Jaehyun stared, unblinking. 

“What?”

“That’s fine, Mr. Jung,” you nodded, teasing him with the title he’d instantly insisted you not use when you first started at the firm. His eyebrows raised cautiously as you slowly grasped his necktie and drew him close. “I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking you to exorcise all your demons or martyr yourself. I’m telling you that if you want it, I’ll help you take that suit off.”

“You’re trouble,” Jaehyun laughed breathlessly. 

“You’re the one wasting time asking me to get you coffee when you could’ve been asking me out.”

You shut up Jaehyun’s surely clever retort as you yanked him close, this time giving him the proper kiss he’d deprived you of initially. To your relief, his lips responded in kind, his tongue following your lead as his hands searched your body, before landing on the keys in your hand. He quickly got the office door open, and you pulled him along, clumsily punching in the alarm code and letting Jaehyun desperately grope at you. Both your work bags dropped to the floor of the lobby, your coats landing on top of them as Jaehyun kissed you back through the dark office to his door. You still had a vice grip on Jaehyun’s tie, holding him close and making him accidentally push you hard against the door, a grunt reverberating through both of your chests. And his hands were in your hair, fretting over hurting you and making sure you were alright and kissing your face before you turned the knob to his office, sending you both tumbling inside. Making quick work of him, you shoved Jaehyun to sit back on his desk. 

“What’re you going to do to me?” He quietly asked, but it wasn’t timid. Jaehyun was challenging you, dipping a toe in the rapids. 

“I’m going to make you forget your ghosts for a little bit,” you explained as you swiftly slid off his tie. Jaehyun watched, intrigued and curious as you crawled onto the desk between his legs, but only to reach around him to rummage around in the drawers behind him. 

“Not very interested in me, huh?” He asked, as if he’d proven any sort of point before you scoffed. He went rigid under you when you sat back up between his legs, his recently acquired emergency tie in your hands. 

“Don’t be dumb,” you smiled in the scant moonlight streaming through the window lining the wall. “Of course I’m interested in you, Mr. Jung, but I’m a bit hung out to dry after seeing you’re all flash but no bang for the past couple weeks.”

“I resent that,” Jaehyun laughed weakly, his eyes pointed at your fingers lifting the hem of your skirt so you could straddle his hips on the desk. 

“Don’t argue,” you condescendingly shook your head, “you did plenty of that today. You asked what I’m going to do to you, and right now I’m going to work out this frustration you left me with.” Before he could respond, you firmly pushed Jaehyun back onto his desk before gathering up his wrists and wrapping one of his ties around them. 

Until he roughly jerked them away. You nearly scoffed, nearly teased, until you sensed a desperation — fear — in his action. 

“Jaehyun?” You asked gently. 

“I’m fine,” Jaehyun insisted as he got his breath back. “I just… can we not? Do that, specifically, I mean.”

You sat up on your knees, still perched over Jaehyun’s lap and frozen as you wondered where to go from here. 

“Jaehyun, baby,” you soothed as your hand gently cupped his face, “we can take a minute. We can stop.”

Jaehyun’s hands found your hips in the dark, gliding over them and pulling you close. “No, please,” he pleaded, his voice low in his throat and still coated with lust. “I can handle you.”

“That’s a strong choice of words,” you smirked, relieved to get the moment back when you caught Jaehyun’s fingers fumbling with the waistband of your skirt. He jolted as you slapped his hand off, getting his attention back so you could begin to unbutton his shirt. “Don’t be selfish,” you chided, “get mine, too.”

“Anything, princess,” he eagerly agreed, his fingers deftly plucking the buttons of your blouse open. Nevertheless, you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Call me something else,” you suggested, threading your fingers back through Jaehyun’s hair and tugging before letting them trail down to his exposed chest. You thumbed over his nipples and enjoyed how it made him squirm. His cock surged against you through his slacks. 

“Yes, baby,” he readily complied. “What now?” 

“Now you have to be patient,” you smiled. “If I don’t want to make you keep your hands to yourself, can you be good and sit still on your own?” Jaehyun eagerly shook his head. You slid down his lap a little, just enough to get your hands on his belt and unbuckle him. His breath caught in his throat as you got a hand around his warm length and his hands searched, reached, desperate for any other stimulation before he pulled you close to tug your bra down and hungrily tongue your nipples. Your grip massaged his cock at an agonizing pace, and Jaehyun was getting worked up much too fast to be dignified. 

“Please, baby,” he begged, “I need it. I need to fuck you.”

“Oh?” You laughed, “Since when?”

“For weeks now,” he wheezed. “I need you.”

“Really?” You grinned devilishly, lifting your hips just enough to pull your panties to the side, lewdly rubbing yourself to taunt him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you exposed yourself for him but wouldn’t let him have any. “You want to fuck me?”

“Please,” Jaehyun pathetically groaned, even more so as you took his turgid length in your hand and rubbed the head against your soaked heat. He tried in vain to keep from rutting up into your entrance. 

“Say it,” you commanded. 

“Say what?” Jaehyun desperately implored.

“Say thank you,” you grinned triumphantly, grinding your pussy down onto just the head of his cock as you roughly thumbed and pinched  his erect nipples. Jaehyun let his head fall back against the desk as you finally dipped him fully into you. You savored his shuddered groans of pleasure. Jaehyun still obediently kept his hands to himself, even as he uselessly babbled his endless thanks to you. “It’s so convenient,” you smirked, “having a good boy to keep his hands to himself on his own. It gives me a chance to get some work done around here.”

Jaehyun watched, captivated as your fingers dipped down to your clit and drew fervent circles in time with your pace on his cock. 

“Tell me you want to see it,” you ordered, breath ragged as you bounced hungrily on Jaehyun’s leaking cock. 

“See what?” Jaehyun panted, his fingers gripping tight to the edge of his desk. 

“Tell me you want to see me cum all over your nice suit,” you teased. 

Jaehyun moaned hard, cursing under his breath as he watched helplessly. “Please, baby,” he pleaded, “I want to see you cum.”

“Cum where?”

“I-I want to see you cum all over my nice suit,” Jaehyun confidently stammered. 

“Only if you fill me up,” you grinned valiantly. Your goading did the trick. Jaehyun’s head pressed back into the desk, his eyes screwed shut as yours did the same. Your body jolted, your pussy contracting and spasming on his spurting cock as you both cried out.  

Seemingly minutes later, you found yourself resting on Jaehyun’s chest, eyes groggily reopening as you let your thoughts fall back into place. You absently played with the bracelet around Jaehyun’s wrist where his hands had finally relinquished the desk, a simple and dainty set of chains that felt cool against the pads of your fingers. 

“Did you really want to do this for weeks?” You murmured into his chest. You cooperated as Jaehyun sat up with you in his arms. He gently buttoned your blouse back up, petted your hair back into place as he hazily nodded. 

“I did. I’ve wanted you, but I couldn’t bring myself to make that step. I guess I needed you to help me.”

“I’m glad I did,” you smiled modestly. Jaehyun pulled you close in his lap again, his nose buried into the crook of your neck. 

“And you were right.”

“Hmm?” You contentedly hummed. 

“You made me forget for a bit.”

You sat back, studying Jaehyun’s face for a sense of inflation or play, but found none. 

“Want me to do it again sometime?” The question was phrased lightly, but you meant it. If you could be with Jaehyun again, you would. He just had to want it. 

“Can you?”

[A companion series.]

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Better Late Than Never?

I had a few other ideas in the creative queue that I planned to do first but after watching TLC and Smackdown, this one just pushed its way to the front. Kevin is one of my long time favorites and not just because he’s from the place where I live. I seriously think that despite having been Universal Champion, US  Champion, and a major player for years, he’s still undervalued by WWE. Aside from his skills in ring, he is one of the Top 10 and possibly Top 5 promos in the world, whether as a heel or babyface. I hope 2021 is the year that he finally gets fully acknowledged. 

SO... Here’s a story featuring Kevin that’s about someone seeing just how wonderful he is. 

Pairing: Kevin Owens x reader

Word count: 3,627

Content advisory: swearing, references to sexual activity

You definitely need to be more diligent about moisturizing your legs. There’s a fine, powdery finish that lays over your dark skin like a kind of mildew or fungus and you can see a delicate web of white lines where your body cries out for hydration. You run your fingers along your tibia, wiping away the offending dust. It’ll be back in a few minutes but you like the feeling that it’s something that you can get rid of when you choose to. However, unless you plan on rubbing your fingers over your legs constantly, you need to be more diligent about moisturizing. 

It’s one of those details that’s become kind of fascinating during the hours you’ve been sitting here, getting a headache from the endless background noise and recycled air of the hospital, consciously stopping yourself from turning into one of those strident Karens who get up in the nurses faces and yell because they want their loved one to take priority over everything else. 

‘Loved ones.’

Even thinking the term makes you feel nervous, makes your dry skin shiver. You’re here in this hospital sitting vigil next to the bed of a man who’s been your friend for years, a sometime sparring partner, a frequent travel buddy, and a recent one night stand. But now he is very much a loved one and you wish he’d wake up from his medicated slumber so you could tell him. 

“I love you, Kevin Owens.”

There are a lot of visible welts and bruises on his skin. There’s a contusion on his cheek that’s so swollen it looks like someone’s inserted a balloon under his skin, a bruise so dark you can see it through his beard, and various ugly yellow and purple marks all the way down his torso. You know because, after the nurse had left the two of you alone, you lifted up his chintzy medical gown to survey the damage. 

You were allowed to do that, you figured. That’s one of the things that couples who loved each other never had to be shy about: showing their ugly parts and imperfections. If he would just wake up, you’d be happy to show him how dry and dusty your skin had gotten. If he’d just wake up. 

More concerning than the bruises are the split on his wrist and the bandaged ankle that’s been elevated to reduce the swelling, and the two dislocated ribs. Those are things that can put a wrestler on the shelf for months. You know, because you’re just getting the chance to get back in the ring yourself after you somehow managed to break your ankle in two places at once jumping from the top rope to the floor, a move you’d done a hundred thousand times without incident. You don’t want that for Kevin, not when he’s been on such an upward trajectory lately, not while he’s been so able to remind the powers that be of what an incredible talent he is. That ankle is already held together with Mac-Tac and positive thinking. It would break both your hearts to see him sidelined now. 

That’s how a woman in love reacts under these circumstances, you think. When her man is threatened, she becomes dangerously protective. She’d do anything possible and probably a few things that aren’t in order to save the person she’s in love with. And if the bastard would just wake up for a few seconds, you’d say that. 

Tenderly, you run your fingernails through the wiry scruff of his beard, careful to avoid touching the bruised skin. You let one finger, your so-called ring finger (that’s never had a ring on it) over the corner of his lips. You consciously choose that finger because the human body exerts the least pressure on it. You want him to wake up but not because you’re poking at him. But you can’t resist touching him a little. 

Even when you and Jey had been together, you and Kevin had been affectionate. It was one of the many points of conflict that you’d had with Jey, along with the fact that you swore so much that he was worried about introducing you to his mother, that you were a shit cook, and that your parents’ marriage had made you extremely dubious about the whole concept. 

You might consider marrying Kevon Owens, though, because he thought it was funny that you swore, that you had a tendency to drool in your sleep, who thought you were beautiful when you woke up even though you had crusts in your eyes, who was fine with ordering takeout or trying to cook something together that occasionally worked out. 

And maybe he would have asked if you hadn’t been so weird about everything. That was on you. 

You wouldn’t have described Kevin as one of your closest friends but he was definitely a guy you got along with, dating back to before you’d both signed to WWE. You’d even fought each other a couple of times, the last one being a PWG event where you’d failed to tuck your head up properly taking his signature package piledriver and ended up with a concussion. 

He’d apologized every time he saw you for six months, even after you were both in NXT, until you’d finally figured out a way to assuage his guilt about the whole incident. 

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, big boy,” you’d cooed, “just because I couldn’t handle your package.”

Then that had become a huge joke between you, and everyone assumed it meant that something had happened, that the two of you had done the horizontal mambo and were trying to get over it. You’d almost felt offended because you knew Kevin wasn’t exactly thought of as a hot property. At the same time, there was something about his rough persona, the character of a guy who’d just take what he wanted that made you think of what it would feel like for him to grab your wrists and pin you to the bed and…

Well, the two of you were always just friends. You were both experts at banter and setting the other up for funny lines. And you even found it easy to travel together, which coworkers found pretty remarkable. 

Normally, Kevin traveled with Sami, and if Sami wasn’t available, he traveled alone. But he’d come to accept you because he’d realized that any kind of travel put you to sleep almost immediately, which meant that he could have the peace he wanted and you could sleep without the guilt that other travel partners gave you for not doing your share of the driving, or at least being good enough company to keep them awake and alert by being good company. 

An announcement sounds, exceptionally loud as they all seem to be, over the internal broadcast system. 

“Housekeeping to triage with a wet mop and a bucket!”

You don’t even want to think what that means, but Kevin stirs just the tiniest bit and you’re excited that he might actually be coming out of it. Without even thinking about it, you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, close to his lips, like he’s Sleeping Beauty and you’re Prince Charming. 

His facial muscles twitch a little but he remains unconscious. You are not Prince Charming. 

About a year ago, you’d started dating Jey Uso. He was so incredibly hot to you that you could barely stand to look at him. He’d joked around with you all the time and rather than come up with your usual retorts, you’d been unable to do anything but giggle uncomfortably. Naomi, who was your closest friend at the time, had sworn up and down that the two of you were perfect for each other. 

“Everything that I think makes Jey a dick compared to Jimmy to me makes it like he was meant for you,” she’d gushed. 

And she was right. After half a dozen times she’d insisted you ride with them (which had forced you to stay awake), made you eat with them, gotten you to hang out with them, you were totally smitten and you had a pretty good notion the sentiment was mutual. One night, the four of you had gone bowling and you and Jey had just spontaneously started making out. Considering it was girls against boys, it had kind of ruined bowling night. No one had cared. 

After that, you’d seen Kevin a lot less. You were a couple and you were more or less connected at the hip to another couple. But after eight or nine months things had started to go sour. And then Naomi and Jimmy got sidelined and it became obvious that you and Jey had stayed cool more or less for their benefit. 

You’d been the one to end things. He’d been adamant that what you had was worth fighting for, whereas you knew that the two of you were just too different to mesh in the long term. Being funny and being wrestlers wasn’t enough. It had felt unreal that he’d fought so hard to stop you from leaving him when he hadn’t seemed that happy having you with him. Sometimes, you’d wanted to relent because the good times with him had been some of the happiest of your life. Sometimes, you’d wanted to relent because sex with him had been amazing. But you’d managed to stand your ground, even though your ground left you pretty lonely. 

It wasn’t that Naomi didn’t understand, but once you’d broken up with Jey, things with her became awkward. And you were suddenly on lousy terms with Jimmy, who’d been a pal to you. Other friends were hard to talk to because you’d basically dropped them when you’d hooked up with Jey. But Kevin was happy to welcome you back. The two of you fell into the easy, comic interaction you’d had before and it was the first time in months you’d felt like yourself. 

A couple of weeks ago, it had gotten weird. Well, not weird. It had gotten sexual. You and Kevin had been excited about the fact that you both had matches on TLC, the first time you'd been on the same PPV. You’d started with actual champagne, or at least whatever sparkling wine the restaurant had in your price range. Then you’d moved on to real wine for your celebratory dinner. Then there was this amazing cocktail bar that had materialized right across the street from your restaurant and it wasn’t like either of you was tired. 

You’d been the one to make the move. You’d had a hunch that at some point, Kevin had developed a crush on you, something that had been put on ice during the time you’d been with Jey, but that had started to thaw in the time the two of you had been back to your old ways. You were two drinks into sampling what the cocktail bar had to offer when you’d dove in, smashing your mouth against his and pressing your tongue into his astonished mouth. The two of you had actually ordered a third round but had barely touched the glasses because you were all over each other, making out like horny teenagers before it occurred to you that you could just go back to your hotel and fuck like you were both so eager to do. 

And fuck you had. Everything between the bar and being in the hotel room naked was a blur, aside from the fact that you’d been going at it so heavily in the back seat of the cab that the driver got irritated and threatened to throw you out. You’d had a jubilant time throwing each other from one position to another and it seemed like Kevin had made you cum in every single one of them. And yet nothing had been so satisfying as looking at his face when he finally orgasmed, like every part of him, body and soul, released at once. You’d pretty much passed out together, embracing. 

When you saw him the next day at the Performance Center, he’d wrapped his arms around you and tried to kiss you in full view of other NXT and WWE personnel. You’d twisted away from him, unsure of what you wanted to do, but knowing you weren’t comfortable just having some new relationship in your life announced to the world without so much as a conversation. 

“Sorry,” Kevin had said, head bowed, “was that not ok?”

“No it wasn’t ok,” you responded tartly. “I never said we were a couple or anything. We fucked. We’re friends and we fucked once. That’s it.”

Kevin nodded but it looked more like his head was bobbling after a hard kick. He’d slunk away and the two of you hadn’t seen much of each other in the days since. You’d wanted to talk to him but it seemed like every time you got close to him, he’d run away or rush to the safety of a group of male friends. 

At first, you’d told yourself that you just wanted to tell him that you wanted things to go back to normal, but as you thought about things going back to normal, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Then, on the Friday night before TLC, looking at him as he staggered to the ring and declared to Roman Reigns that he’d take the WWE Universal Title or die trying, you’d realized that you were in love with him. You’d rushed to find him afterward but somehow, he’d eluded your grasp. But the thought remained at the front of your mind: you were completely in love with Kevin Owens. 

It had pained you seeing the beating that he took at the hands of Roman and Jey. In theory, Jey was attacking Kevin to ensure that Roman, the head of his tribe, won. In reality, you knew that Jey was dishing out extra punishment because he believed that you’d broken up with him for Kevin. Ok, you had to admit that maybe he’d picked up on something you hadn’t. But it killed you seeing Kevin suffer because of it. 

After the match, Kevin had once again eluded you, but that Friday, when he was helped away from his match, bleeding and bitter, you’d been waiting at the top of the ramp. You’d tagged along as they’d laid him onto the stretcher and attached an oxygen mask because they weren’t sure he was breathing properly on his own. And when the EMTs had asked if you were his significant other, you’d immediately nodded and jumped into the ambulance. Kevin had just enough time to look confused about your presence before the IV full of painkillers did its work and he slipped into blissful oblivion. 

They’d kept him medicated while they did various scans and scopes to evaluate the extent of the damage he’d suffered. And so, hours later, you were still perched at his side, waiting for him to come around. The doctor had insisted that he was better off asleep since that allowed him to rest and heal. You nodded in understanding, even as you imagined yourself shutting the IV drop off so that you could wake him up and let him know what you were feeling. 

You’d memorized every crack in the institutional-standard paint, every scratch on the tile floor, every nuance of the voice that periodically crackled over the loudspeaker, but you were determined that you were going to stay in place. You were going to tell Kevin Owens that you loved him the second he woke up and if he recoiled the way that you had when he’d tried to hug you. 

After about a hundred and thirty-eight years, his eyelids flutter and his brown eyes open, still glazed with drugs. It takes a couple of minutes before he registers where he is and who you are and what’s happened. 

“How bad is it?” he croaks, his throat crackling from dryness.

You pick up the plastic cup of water on the tray next to the bed and push the attached straw to his lips. He obediently sips, his eyes focusing on you as he recovers himself. 

“You took a lot of hits. You weren’t really up to the cage match. So it’s not great,” you inform him. 

He twists away from the straw and stares at the ceiling. 

“I’ll be fine,” he groans, his neck muscles tensing. “I always am.”

“Yeah, well you’re not going to be fine for a while. So just drink water and relax.”

“I don’t know why you’re here. You don’t need to feel guilty because your boyfriend fucked me up and fucked me over. You can go home.”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend. And I’m not here because of him. I’m here because of you.” You gulp, realizing that your moment has come. “Because I love you.”

Kevin grimaces and his eyes flit towards you but he angles his head away. 

He thinks you mean it like a friend, you guess. He doesn’t understand what you’ve just said. You grab his hand and pull yourself closer to him, so that you’re leaning halfway onto the narrow bed with him. 

“I love you, Kevin. And I’m sorry I was stupid when you tried to hug me and I’m sorry that I’ve been stupid and haven’t realized it before. But I really love you.”

He doesn’t say anything but he looks at you with an expression of innocence and surprise and he pulls on you a little so that you’re forced to crawl onto the bed with him.

“I’ve been sitting here for about eight hours trying to figure out some wonderful way to say this to you,” you whine. “But now my ass is asleep and my eyes are burning and I can’t think of any other thing to say. I love you. I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way and I don’t know why I never acted on it. I just need you to understand-”

“Ok, ok, I get it,” he says with a sigh. “You love me. That’s great. I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m the one who thought it meant something when we had sex, remember?”

“Hey,” you retort, placing your hand against his jaw and turning him to face you, “I did too. I just didn’t understand what it meant at first.”

Your lips come together softly and then urgently, until he twists away. 

“Ow,” he says, rubbing at his jaw. 

“Yeah, you definitely took a hit there.”

“You know, every time I hit Jey, I was thinking of you.”

“You know, everyone thinks you deserve to be the champion, but me most of all.”

Giving him a coquettish smile, you allow your hand to trail down to his thigh, curving towards the inner part. You can immediately feel a twitch from the one part of him that is definitely not injured. 

Sliding your hand under the thin fabric of his robe, you take hold of his member, already semi-erect, and begin stroking it, swirling your hand over the head and trailing your finger down the sensitive seam, reveling in the grunts and hums of pleasure this elicits from him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

the sharp cry startles both of you enough that you sit up a little. The nurse, a middle-aged woman with wispy grey-brown hair pulled back from her care-worn face, stares furiously at both of you. 

“You can’t be doing anything like that,” she says sharply. “And you can’t just go climbing on the bed.”

Face burning, you slide back into your chair. 

“Now sir,” she says, haughtily turning her attention solely to Kevin and averting her gaze from the visible bulge under the thin bed sheet, “how would you describe your pain?”

“Painful,” Kevin quips, making you giggle a little. 

“On a scale of one to ten,” she snaps. 

“I’m a professional wrestler, so I’d say five was a normal day. Let’s call this a seven and a half.”

“So would you like the doctor to increase your dose of painkillers?”

“No,” he says thoughtfully. “I’d like the doctor to say it’s ok for my girlfriend to curl up in bed with me and take care of me.”

You smile broadly the second you hear him call you his girlfriend. 

The nurse rolls her eyes and walks away but as she does, both of you notice her covering her mouth to conceal how hard she’s laughing. Without even thinking, you clasp hands and as you watch her leave the room, you turn to look at each other. 

“You mean it?” you ask him. 

“Mean what?”

“That I’m your girlfriend.”

“Is there something else you wanna be?”

“I just want to be the woman you’re in love with and the one who you want to come home to.”

“Well that’s a given.”

You lean in and kiss his cheek. 

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I hit a bruise.”

You let your lips trail over to his eyebrow and press a kiss there. 

“Ow.”

“I didn’t notice the cut,” you gush apologetically. 

He squeezes your hand and smiles at you, full of his incredible warmth, even though it’s tempered by the drugs he’s receiving. 

“Well I love you,” he sighs. “And don’t you worry. I’m about a half a CC of this juice from dragging you onto this bed and having my way with you.” 

You wind your hand and arm around his, so that you can pull him close enough for a kiss. 

“I hope they up your medication,” you murmur, “just so that I can make you relax while I show you everything I want to do to you.”

[blastoisemonster]

Marmalade Boy

Before talking about today's spinoff, I'd like to take a step back for better context and briefly describe the interesting relationship Italy has with japanese culture: the two countries, despite being so distant and having developed from very different histories, have been called similar in their habits and in many aspects of the daily life, to the point of showing mutual affection for eachother’s society and products; in our case, we’re especially talking about entertainment.

Which takes us to the slice-of-life anime genre: true animated soap operas originally maybe only targeted at an audience of female teenagers but that, once in italian territory, end up catching interest of the whole family with its intrigues and linked episodes. 1980/1990s Italy clicked perfectly with them; not only a great amount has been brought in Europe thanks to our translations, but a selected few have been taken as inspiration for completely original work based on that universe. Basically, yes, our television companies have produced anime fanfiction dramas. One striking example is Love Me Knight - Kiss Me Licia, which became something like a pre-Pokèmon nationwide phenomenon: not even Japan (which produced only one season and then called it quits) understood how or even why the average italian loved this saccarine shit so much, and still today the girl who originally sang our Kiss Me Licia opening basically owes her whole career and popularity lasting more than three decades (she's still singing anime openings and even doing concert tours) thanks to the leading acting role she played in four live action Kiss Me Licia sequel series. You've read it right, four. All met with huge success from 1986 to 1989 for a grand total of 144 episodes. Original mangaka Kaoru Tada knew nothing about this and the studio responsible for the animated adaptation of the manga, Toei Animation, had not even been contacted for the rights: truly, our entertaining industry was making fanart just as the average kid on DeviantArt likes to post his not-so-traced Goku drawings for everyone to see.

The second most remarkable big shojo love Italy had is the subject of this post, Marmalade Boy, known in Italy as "Piccoli Problemi di Cuore" (literally translated: Small Heartaches). The Mediaset adaptation team wanted to create another big Licia phenomenon but, this time, instead of producing live action spinoffs, they went and actually contacted the original author, Wataru Yoshizumi, for permission on modifying the anime's plot. Piccoli Problemi di Cuore has been one of the biggest and most coherent works of animation "cut-and-paste" the team has done during that late 90s, resulting in a completely new italian anime series of 70 episodes (out of the 76 original ones) inspired by Marmalade Boy's plot. And as expected, this became a huge hit: it started airing at the beginning of 1997 and it captivated the audience so much that after a while they had to move it to another channel and time block because people were watching it more than the news. This also allowed Italy to export their own Marmalade Boy inspired creation as a whole different anime with the international name "A Little Love Story". Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was the anime all the big sisters and more romantic girls of the class followed almost religiously at the time of its original broadcast. Of course I wasn't part of that audience at the time, but after having researched the very interesting backstory of our adaptation, I'd be more than curious to at least take a look at it. And the manga? The original 8 tankobon got translated in my country by Planet Manga several times: the first publication was split in 16 volumes, the second one had 8 issues, and then there's the "Gold" edition of 8 volumes with alternative covers. Oh, and just to be sure everyone had bought it, a fourth edition has been published as recently as 2015. Be it manga or anime, Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was always absolutely famous and great.

And then there's the Game Boy spinoff, that instead is exclusive for Japan. How come? Released by Bandai in 1995, this title had been originally conceived for the Game Boy and only three months later a Super Famicom version showed up, making it a unique strange case of an handheld exclusive coming second for home console, and not the other way around. Also, it’s a dating simulator! Personally, this is the first of this genre I see on the small screen.

Adorned with cute checkers patterns all around and predictably nice-looking sprites and background scenes, this game has the player assume the role of female protagonist Miki Koishikawa and flirt with three suitors: Yuu Matsuura (technically Miki’s main love interest in the original anime), Ginta Suou (long time Miki’s classmate and secret -even corresponded- crush, but too proud to admit it), or Kei Tsuchiya (a talented yet troubled pianist, also Miki’s coworker at Bobson’s ice cream parlor). A lot of places from the anime, such as the protagonist’s school, workplace, and house, can be visited, and there’s many more characters to interact with; all in run-of-the-mill dating sim fashion, Marmalade Boy features tons and tons and tons of dialogue and, as rewards, special cutscenes featuring Miki and the boyo of her life. I really don’t like dating sims at all, so I’m not sure if I could judge it fairly, even if I understood japanese. >.> But as far as I researched online, the general public and fans of the original source do seem to enjoy it, meaning that at least it does justice to the anime. The game seems programmed with passion as well, as it can be used along with a Super Game Boy for an exclusive border and more colorful pixelwork; it also has a password system, in case one screws up an answer and ends up with an undesired ending.

Unfortunately, no one has yet provided a translation patch neither for the Game Boy nor the SuFami version, and it’s clear that back in the day of its release, which is two years prior to Piccoli Problemi Di Cuore’s television airing, there was absolutely no interest in seeing it marketed to a western audience. Though, just imagine if an italian developing house would have taken interest into this spinoff as much as the television companies did with the cartoon! We’d have an italian translated Marmalade Boy’s videogame re-adapted to follow our own version of the story. An exorbitant cost for surely meager earnings, yet unmatched peculiarity... and probably, pride!

[moonlightchess]

Further evidence that my new coworker Jamie is probably a wonderful alien scientist sent to Earth to research our value to the galaxy or maybe some kind of mad trickster fae, part II:

• Cheeseburgers. Cheeseburgers everywhere. He cuts out pictures of especially delicious-looking ones from magazines and tapes them around his workspace in the lab. He has cheeseburger erasers and t-shirts with cheeseburgers on them. When asked what his whole...deal is with cheeseburgers, he blinked at our mutual coworker in total befuddlement and said "You don't like cheeseburgers?" and when this was denied by said coworker he said, "well, there you go." • We work in a hospital that has adapted to include covid-19 testing and data/sample processing for patients, he is a 31-year-old who somehow has his doctorate in pathology already and a higher chess rating online than mine. I am, I should point out, a professional chess player. • He likes to dye his hair, something I initially attributed to boredom but it seems he's been doing it for a long time now and has a lot of fantastic tips about how to avoid too much damage. He likes violently neon colors - greens and blues especially, which complement his huge collection of vibrantly colorful tattoos beautifully. He is fond of bright colors in general, and will often roll up into work in a screaming yellow or hot pink day-glo shirt with some bizarre phrase printed across its front, under his lab coats. So far my favorite has been "I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I?" Frequently since meeting him, I am tempted to ask to borrow his clothes. • Like most patho techs, he likes to listen to music while he's working. One day, solely out of curiosity, I asked him what he was listening to, and he linked me to his work playlist. It was a single queue of 17 different versions and remixes of Flo Rida's "Low" (also known as the "apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur" song), just. Over and over. • Common aspects of human existence often seem to confuse and mildly alarm him. I recently caught him in the break room, desperately trying to reason with our latte machine. "Come ON. I'm TIRED, I just want COFFEE. Don't you know how to make regular COFFEE? I have a DOCTORATE." • Yesterday he offered me a ride home from work since I don't drive and the trains were running late. Upon getting into his car, I saw that his entire backseat was packed from floor to ceiling with blocks of raw clay wrapped in plastic tarp. "Oh, you're into pottery!" I said, and he stared at me for a moment. "...No..." he said. "Then...why the clay?" I asked. His only response was a shrug. • I found a pair of cheeseburger leggings online and linked him to them for a laugh. A couple of days later, he sent me a picture of himself surrounded by more clay in his apartment while wearing the leggings. He bought them. I still don't know what the fucking clay is for. • Ever since finding out that I also play chess, he's been challenging me online. He kicks my ASS damn near every time. Like, he is literally one of the most brilliantly analytical minds I have ever encountered, eccentricities and all. • He's so damn honest and real? Last week (I write up my life posts as they happen to me and post them when I remember to, for anyone who is confused about the timeline) a rude coworker who thinks she is super popular and is completely unaware that no one actually likes her was showing everyone pictures of her dog on her phone and Jamie just blurted out, "I don't like you, but I like your dog. I wish your dog worked here and like, not you." • In conclusion he is my new favorite person and I am going to marry him bye.

[peachyteabuck]

hustle make you high (sub!lance tucker x femdom!reader)

summary: it’s your anniversary, and this is how you and lance celebrate

pairing: sub!lance tucker x femdom!reader

words: 2,395

trigger warnings: femdom, riding, restraints

ask box / masterlist / faq / ko-fi

Lance Tucker is nothing short of an absolute fucking asshole. He’s stubborn, way too observant in the absolute worst way, and blunt to a fault. No matter where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing, Lance Tucker will find a way to tell you why what you’re doing is 1) wrong, 2) that it annoys him, 3) that you’re a terrible person, and 4) that he doesn’t like you.

Anyone who knew Lance Tucker when he was still competing knows that he’s a stuck-up asswipe of a gymnast, and he only got worse when he began coaching. A control freak with a God complex, the man will push any button to remain in charge of any and all situations that he is involved in. The man is focused on his fame (or, more accurately, the perception of fame) than anything else, especially the feelings of other people.

In short, he’s a total, utter dick.

God, you’re totally and completely in love with him.

He’s a fantastic husband in every sense of the word, along with being a wonderful friend. He’s sweet and caring, always putting your needs over his own. He remembers every anniversary, every birthday, every small achievement in relation to your work.

You absolutely fell in love with him on your first date together, it didn’t even take an hour for you to know he was the one. It was a blind date, set up by two of your mutual friends. Well, actually, it was a bet between the two of them. One thought you two would be too different to hit it off, but the second person knew better - much, much better.

On your first date, Lance was a bumbling mess who could barely get out a sentence. It was positively adorable. Lance was chivalrous, sweet. Everything, and you mean everything you had heard about him had been completely and utterly false. He asked you about what you did for work, why you chose your incredibly boring field of a tax law, what it was like, and so on. He took a genuine interest in you, what you did, who you were as a person. It was so completely different from every other guy you’d ever tried to date and it was so refreshing.

When you asked about him, though, he seemed even more nervous than before. He stuttered, and it was obvious he was worried of what you would think of him. When he dropped you off at your house (and walked you to your door - what a gentleman), you kissed him on the cheek and he blushed like a schoolgirl and bit his lip like a teen caught in a massive crush.

You loved it.

Immediately after you got all your makeup off and changed into a more comfortable outfit (your first date had been a fancy dinner halfway across town and all you wanted to do was wear sweatpants, take your bra off, and wear the comfiest/grossest shirt you could find), you scheduled your next date. It was the week after when you met at your favorite small coffee shop right after the lunch rush. You and Lance talked for hours about your lives and what you wanted out of them. You asked him about training and a gym addition he was planning; he asked you about a case you were thinking of taking up. When he had to leave for a night session with a girl who missed the morning one, you went for it and kissed him. Just straight up. He seemed stunned, but after the initial shock wore off he went in for another. It was magical. His hands tenderly placed themselves on your waist, resting on your thick green sweater. You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking him close to you. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if there was a small drizzle of rain, a way to seal the romantic moment.

When you stepped away, the dopey look that flashed on his face made you want even more. You wanted to mess up his perfectly gelled hair and jump his bones.

But you were a lady, and ladies wait until the third date. And, if that third date happened to be less than forty-eight hours later, that’s okay. It was dinner at your place. Normally, you’d mind always making the first move. But something about Lance convinced you that you being a driving force was okay. You guessed that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to initiate a lot of things, it’s just that he was nervous. And if you liked anything, it was making extremely pretty boys extremely nervous. Maybe it was because you’ve always liked control. Maybe it was because your desk job made you feel useless. Maybe it was because things you’ve always liked things that made you feel like you were sexy, a feeling you’ve never really felt before.

Either way, that night, you were getting it. You were determined to fuck him (with his consent…of course…). You didn’t care if that meant some boring missionary shit or you riding his dick and/or his face for two hours; you two were cumming. Together. Coming together.

The meal you had cooked was normally pretty simple, but instead of just roasted chicken slices you cooked an entire one so you could carve it. You thought it would be a good thing to take your sexual frustration on (since you know…large knives and stuff).

The man of the hour arrived at six o’clock sharp, just as you’d instructed him to. It took all of your might not to cum right then and there, not only because he had followed orders, but also because he was punctual. It’s one of your biggest pet peeves - when people don’t show up on time, and it happens all the time at work. The last thing you want is to come home to someone who can’t find a place on time. It sent a shiver up your spine as you wiped your hands on a dish towel before you went to open the door.

Lance was dressed the sexiest you’d ever seen him. His jeans were tight, and his shirt hugged his body like latex. It was white, and you could almost see his obnoxious tattoo through it. It took all of you not to pull him in the door by his neckline and suck him off right then and there. Just a second, Y/N, let the man have dinner first, is all you could do to keep yourself from jumping him right then and there.

Ever the gentleman, he also brought you some flowers.

That’s when you decided to get your power back. As you and him made small talk (he mostly just asked about your home, which you happily answered), you “struggled” to find a vase.

In truth, you know where the want you want is, it’s up high. Despite this, you choose to look through all of the lower cabinets, so you can show off how tight the dress you’re wearing is.

It’s obvious when he catches sight of your ass, because Lance immediately stops speaking. The only sound in the kitchen is the sizzling of green beans. When you turn around, faux-perplexed as to the whereabouts of your favorite crystal vase, Lance is smirking.

“I thought you said the bank turned you down for that loan,” the line is shaky, he’s obviously nervous as he says it. It makes you quiver a little, admittedly. You love making boys nervous.”

You shake your head, confused. “If you’re trying to hit on me by bringing up the worst part of this year…”

Lance immediately backtracks. “No, no I mean, that like they said you didn’t have any…assets…”

That’s when you get it. He’s trying to creatively compliment your figure. You break down giggling, flustered. “That’s…that’s good. I haven’t heard that one before.”

When you finally “find” the vase, you realize it’s a little higher than you remember. You need help reaching it for real…and-

Shit. This isn’t how you planned for the night to go.

“I, uh,” You gulp, turning back around with heat dusting your cheeks. “Can you help me reach the vase?”

Lance laughs and gets up, moving to easily grab what you cannot.

That is the first time you see the now-famous tattoo up close, and the first time you drag his face down to your level so that you can make out with him against your kitchen counter.

Now, after three years of dating and four years of marriage, nothing has changed between you two.

He may have become an incredibly selective and successful coach; you may have become a partner at your firm. You may have moved to a house that’s better for entertaining his gymnasts and your lawyer friends/foes/potential clients. You may have adopted some cats. Everyone may have called you a power couple and banned both of you from drinking at any and all office parties at both of your jobs. Some coworkers may have also had to be convinced not to tell your respective bosses about you making out (and worse) in bathrooms and empty conference rooms and storage closets and each of your offices.

But in your relationship? Nope.

You still absolutely adore each other. Lance still gets those flutters in his stomach that always make him stutter around you. You still love making him nervous. Most importantly, you both still loving having sex. Together. With each other.

Some nights are lighter than others, some require days of planning. You’re (mostly) past hook ups in utility closets, preferring to sleep in your own bed.  

Which is why you tease him all throughout dinner, flat out banning him from clearing it of its contents and thereby not allowing him to fuck you on it.

This is likely why when you lure him upstairs and push him onto the bed, he immediately becomes pliant.

It’s cute, almost, the way he’s reacting to your touch, how his breath hitches when your nails trace over his muscles – his shirt long discarded and you looming over him.

“You want me to tie you up, baby?” you coo, heat in your center pulsing as he moans. “You want me to fuck myself down on your cock while all you can do is watch?”

Lance whines high in his throat, nodding.

“Yes, please tie me up,” he moans.

And who are you to deny him?

You abide by his wishes easily, undressing him the rest of the way before tying his arms and legs so that he lays spread-eagle in the center of the bed.

Once he’s secured you strip yourself, removing each item of clothing slowly as he strains his neck to watch you.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he moans. “Please fuck me!”

You smile as – finally – your panties are discarded. Wordlessly you climb over him once more, aligning him with your dripping center, moaning lewdly as he bottoms out.  

“Please let me touch you,” Lance groans, pulling at the restraints. “C’mon, let me make you feel good.”

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble breathlessly as you used your hips to grind down onto his cock. “Let me feel you first.”

“God I love your pussy,” he moans, hands flexing in their fixed position. “Fuck it feels so good!”

You giggle, grinding down onto his cock. Maybe it’s because you’ve forced him into abstinence for the past week, maybe it’s because it’s your anniversary and you’ve been stuck in this hazy love cloud for days.

“You want me to untie you?” You ask. Immediately, Lance is moaning and nodding his head deliriously. “You want your hands on me while I cum on your cock?”

“Fuck yes!” Lance begs, fucking harder into you. “God please let me touch you, oh my God.”

You unclick the ankle restraints first, then lean forward to free his wrists, using his chest for balance.

“Your tits look really good at this angle,” he says with one of his big, show-stopping smiles.

You laugh as you readjust, moaning as you slide back onto the cock. “Yeah? They still look good from here, too?”

Lance’s hands roam your body, landing on your ass. “Hell yeah, they do.”

You ride him with everything you have, moaning in tandem with him.

“C-can I rub your clit?” he asks, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut. “Can I please make you cum?”

You smile, tossing your hair to the side and gazing down at him. “Yes, but you can’t cum yet.”

Lance looks pained at not being allowed to cum but remains eager to give you pleasure – sucking his thumb into his mouth before quickly finding the most sensitive part of you.

It doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone with him inside of you – eyes rolling back in bliss.

It’s only when the ringing in your ears stops when you see Lance is nearly lost to his own pleasure.

You smack his right thigh to remind him of his place. “Don’t forget to ask permission, baby,” you hit the left one slightly harder. “It’s our anniversary, but it doesn’t mean our rules have been suspended.”

Lance struggles to swallow before speaking. “Please, can I come? I need to come-“

“Not yet,” you hiss, not letting him finish. You continue to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down as your eyes roll back once more.

Lance, in all his obedience, could never give up his stubbornness.

“Please!” he cries out, tension in his voice indicating how close he really is.

You smile as you grind down on his cock once more. “Cum.”

His face immediately relaxes, head thrown back and mouth agape as he comes inside of you with moan so loud you worry the glass of water next to the bed will shatter.

“Oh, fuck that feels good,” he says, panting. “Your pussy always feels so fucking good.”

You laugh, also breathless. “I appreciate it.”

It takes a minute for you to find the energy, but eventually to grab a tissue to clean off before crawling back into bed with your husband.  

You curl up into Lance’s chest, tracing random patterns into his sweaty skin.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he says, chest rumbling as he does so.

“Happy anniversary,” you say back, leaving a small kiss over one of his deepest bruises.

[soulvomit]

I’m realizing what some of my writing block is. This is why I’ve decided to only write *adult market.* I can’t write YA. I can’t even write for people who want to read YA. The narrative demands of an audience that wants everything to be Young Adult, are like handcuffs. I can’t write within those boundaries, I just can’t.  I can’t even write for people who read Adult then get mad that it’s not YA. I can’t write even for younger readers of erotica. I can only write for people with roughly my same level of social experience who are coming from the same place, who don’t require their characters to be moral paragons, or who want to read something that is coming from a different place emotionally, or... for that matter... young people who prefer to read older work.  Long winded diatribe about some of my more difficult, culturally incorrect romantic narratives I’ve written, as an example of this problem. In case you’re not going to read behind the read-more, no, I don’t write incest or pedo. (Doesn’t mean I won’t write a character who has experienced this if it comes up, I haven’t yet, but who knows. But I don’t write positive portrayals of it. I feel I need to write this disclaimer here.)  

Looking at my writing - I have some scenes I’ve written that are very passionate. It’s basically an OC fanfic type of scenario, it’s writing I did that spun off of a game setting my characters were in for a very long time, about two characters who later ended up married. (And I often do this when game groups fall apart, I start writing about my characters.) It’s some of my best writing, and I’ve often thought about filing the serial numbers off and cannibalizing this for some totally original setting. In the piece I’m looking at, the characters haven’t jumped each other’s bones yet, but there is a strong attraction between two lonely, unattached coworkers that is growing into... outright longing. These are middle aged divorcees with children. They have navigated love and lust before. They have been adults at this point for a long time. They are both sexually experienced (her, in fact, much more than him). It’s clear that they utterly want to rail each other from dusk to dawn until neither one of them can walk. Much of this is from the point of view of the male character. (And I LOVE writing het from the male point of view; it’s one of my favorite love/sex dynamics to write.) They’re definitely conscious of this attraction and in their private thoughts that I’ve written, before the attraction is consummated, there’s definitely “strong crush” energy. These are experienced, sexually mature, middle aged people who are both divorcees with children and they definitely are guessing correctly about the other person’s attraction and interest. They’re imperfect people: they’ve made bad life choices in the past. They’re equals, but it’s never *explicitly pointed out.* He’s a hypermasculine (but not toxically) and badass warrior type, she’s an engineer. She is older than he is, but that never matters and never comes up any more than the fact that I’m 6 years older than my fiance, ever comes up in our relationship. All four of us are *middle aged people* and it is just not a topic of conversation. Another thing that’s “eh” by YA standards is that The thing with how I portray and read erotic or romantic stuff, is that I am an older, experienced person, and I like stuff about older, experienced people. People who already know how to navigate these situations and don’t necessarily need everything spelled out. The thing is, I almost feel like - because of changing sexual mores - I can only write for people over 40 unless I totally rewrite the way everything goes and even the emotional temperature of their early relationship. Even though it’s very clear that my characters are absolutely mutually into each other, and it would be clear to any experienced person who navigates body language, I would have to navigate a whole new set of mores around having to outright spoonfeed my audience - we are really into tell don’t show now, we are really into long winded prefaces to everything explaining how everyone involved is really a good person, and I notice that there’s so little comprehension of nuance or subtlety now, things have to be spelled out, one character reading another person’s body language and flirting at a subtler level would be considered gross and against the present day’s mores around consent. My characters ultimately end up making out and going to bed and they never, ever talk about it and they never process it. The establishment of consent is very, very brief and amounts to one middle aged horny person basically saying “wanna fuck” to another middle aged horny person (personally, my absolute favorite way to start a relationship, that’s how my current and best relationship started, 10/10 highly recommend) and, 12 hours later, the other person pulling them into their hotel room. It’s the kind of establishment of consent that you would’ve seen in an older work and it’s not a particularly complicated dance. I didn’t write this work for public consumption outside of a handful of people and perhaps if I did, maybe I would have written it differently because I’d have to assume that “show don’t tell” doesn’t work on audiences who don’t read nuance, I don’t know. Also, in the lead up to the two characters doing the do, they totally sexually objectify each other in their heads. They think about how much they’d really, really like to pounce on each other. And this is... objectifying, or something. I always portray consent but there’s never a complicated ritual around it. I don’t enjoy writing that. Also, I really enjoy writing and reading stuff with spontaneous passion. I LOVE stuff where it’s even a little over the top.

But the big thing that seems to have changed? The big social more? It feels like you’re not really allowed to show your characters crushing too hard, or desiring too much. They’re certainly never allowed to have frustrating desire or one-sided attractions. (I’ve written lots of those. How the character acts on it or doesn’t, is going to depend upon what type of character I’m writing. I have a couple of one sided best friend crush types of dynamics that I’ve written, usually it’s same sex and incompatible sexual orientation.)   Characters are not really allowed to be horny and there seems to be a general disgust with horniness. Which is difficult to navigate because I love horny work, about horny people. I love stuff about crushes and frustrated limerence.   Also? I even love forbidden romance and forbidden sex and sometimes, and even characters doing things they’re Not Supposed To Do. (I think this is why so many people in my age group are into crime fiction, stuff about illicit affairs, etc.) I have the standard legal and moral limits, but yes I will even read about characters cheating on their spouses. It doesn’t mean I condone what the character is doing or want to do it, and it’s satisfying to see how the situation resolves. (It has to have consequences or it’s just not believable.)  

But even age differences between grown ass adults and massive social differences don’t bother me. I love reading and writing common and royal, rich and poor, people from forbidden and different social worlds.

I’m presently writing something in which a young (but adult) witch is married to an immortal god, and finds out she’s one of millions of his brides through history, and hundreds in the present time. And she is going to stay married to him because that’s part of, in my world, being the type of witch she is. OF COURSE there’s a power difference because HE’S A GOD. The story also spends a lot of time with her as a child, because I write CRADLE TO GRAVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. I love to spend a character’s entire life with them, from the time they’re born to the time they die. But leaving that aside. The sweetest and most tender romance I’ve ever written, involved a sad 50something man and a 25ish year old woman. I was in my 20s when I wrote this. I had lived with the male character in my head for a long time and knew him inside and out. I was delighted when I realized that sparks were flying between him and another character, I’d lived through this character’s life story and its long history of unhappy self-sacrifice, and I decided to follow to see where it led... and it was delightful! I decided to let him have the happy ending. He deserved it after all of this time. She was the initiator of the relationship. She’s in love with him. He is a widower who’s lost everything and now he has a chance to rebuild his life and start a family with this new person. She has other suitors but wants him. She gets pregnant. But it’s narratively a blessing. She wants him, she wants their child, and he’s delighted (especially since his late wife and child are dead), it’s a matrilineal culture, she and the child will stay on the land with her family after he dies. This is a blessing for him. They’re on her family’s land and he’s an exile with no home. She is NOT a Literal Child; she is a grown-ass adult with her own agency, who is sexually experienced, and who has born a lot of responsibility, and is in a prominent social position. His existence is at the mercy of her family, though they keep him around because of his knowledge and abilities. He is the one who doesn’t initiate the relationship, because he’s conscious of the age difference and feels like an old fool, and worries she’ll tire of him one day. Who has the power? Also, he’s a “fish out of water” from another (completely fictitious) culture who ends up totally living among, and assimilating into, this new culture, and basically living out the rest of his life among them, with his bride and their children. And that’s something that isn’t supposed to happen, right? (Writers whose characters just show up in their heads, will relate to this. I don’t even pick my characters’ love interests.)