#i do not know how to articulate how i feel into words

[gold-onthe-inside]

gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

[autolenaphilia]

I’ve talked in a post years before about how male/female socialization is a myth, especially if you argue transfems are “male socialized.” But I’ve read and learned since then, so let’s have another go at it.

Of course what I must recognize is that claims that transfems are male socialized are not good faith arguments, it’s a transmisogynistic canard wielded as a cudgel against transfems. What it is is an accusation that transfems are lacking in the feminine virtues, it’s the old accusation that queer women are too mannish to be proper women. Most often “male socialization” is a claim that we are not demure and submissive enough. It’s a club that taken out whenever we dare disagree with our betters, tme people, or dare assert ourselves in any way. It’s then said that we are “talking over people”, “taking up too much space” or even have “male energy.” This is ubiquitous even in supposedly transfem-inclusive spaces. Even cis women are often falsely perceived as talking too much, due to misogynistic biases, and transmisogynistic biases make this effect even worse for transfems.

But let’s humor the argument for awhile, because I’ve seen transfems internalize the transmisogyny of “male socialization.” And socialization is a real sociological concept, which can be use to lend respectability to the claim that transfems are male socialized.

However actually looking at how socialization is defined reveals the problem with the “male socialization” myth.

Socialization as concept is not simply something that is done to the individual, but actually refers to how the individual internalizes the norms and ideology of the society in which they are raised, “the process beginning during childhood by which individuals acquire the values, habits, and attitudes of a society” as merriam-webster helpfully describes it.

This means the individual’s response to society’s norms defines socialization. It’s not just how people treat you, how you are raised, it’s how you react to how they treat you. And this is equally true if we are to speak of gendered socialization, where a person’s internal gender identity and preferred gender expression, not just their assigned sex by their environnment, defines that person’s gendered socialization.

And it’s obvious that any attempt to “male socialize” transfems failed. If “male socialization” has any meaning it must include that it results in the male individual adopting a male identity. And for transfems, the results speak for themselves. A transfem saying “I was not male socialized, because I’m a woman and not a man” is in itself a valid argument.

The fact that transfems prior to transition can for a long time believe themselves to be male doesn’t mean they were “male socialized” either. Because again, the individual’s own response, both in thought and behaviour to how others treat and teach them is part of socialization. It’s not just the end result that is different from cis men, it’s how we get there too. That’s why some transfems speak of “transfem socialization” because even when we are treated like boys, we have different responses to that than boys and men do, and that is it’s own form of socialization.

The thing is, transfems tend to experience their assigned sex and the masculinity socially expected by them long before their trans realization, as deeply unpleasant. It’s gender dysphoria, but we are not given the words to articulate those feelings. We don’t know that gender dysphoria exists, that transition are an option, or even that trans people exist, except possibly as deluded and perverted men in dresses. So these feelings are instead repressed. This results in dissociation from emotions that are distressing and difficult to understand.

It can often be difficult for us to act according to the norms of masculinity and we are often abused by parents, schools and other children for our femininity.

Now of course there are many boys and men, who are effeminate and gender non-conforming, and are often uncomfortable with the masculinity they are expected to perform. But that just further proves the point that to speak of a monolithic “male socialization” is wrong, because even boys and men vary widely in their responses.

And a central problem with neatly divided male/female socialization, is that while expectations are different depending on assigned sex, we aren’t given separate messages about gender. Basically all children in the same culture are taught the same things about masculinity and femininity, and the misogyny that comes with it. Children who are supposed to be boys are taught what girls are like, and supposed girls are taught what boys are like (and the message is, broadly speaking, girls are inferior to boys).

Trans girls can therefore often internalize the message about femininity, what girls are like, and apply it to themselves, even long before we view ourselves as women. Long before we realize we are trans, that transition is an option, we often feel a painful longing for womanhood, and femininity, tinged with unrecognized dysphoria. The unrealistic beauty standards imposed on women can be especially devastating for trans girls who have internalized transmisogyny. We hold our own bodies to standards that are cisnormative and which are so unrealistic that even cis women can rarely reach them, and it’s used as a tool of repression and self-harm, to tell ourselves why we never could be women. Eating disorders are common among trans women even before transition.

This description of pre-transition transfem lives probably seems surprising to people who never listened to transfems describe their own lives, and this includes other kinds of queer people.

The double standard of how transfems pre-transition lives are described and how basically every other queer group’s closeted lives are described is stark. Like it’s now widely recognized that cis gay people who were closeted and didn’t believe themselves to be gay were suffering in that closet from the self-denial that belief involved. Claims that cis gay people were “heterosexually socialized” and that they enjoyed heterosexual privilege by self-denying in the closet are never made because they are obviously absurd and offensive. But not so for trans women’s own experience of repression and the closet. This is of course rooted in transmisogyny. As Julia Serano pointed out, “AMAB trans people are denied the closet”

[laswells-ashtray]

Imagine the 141 getting to meet Sergeant Price?? Like, Time Machine type shit or they were around when he was still young. Either way, they got to see how chaotic and truly reckless their captain was in his younger days(as well as how in love he and Nik were)

I went for a slightly different route and I hope you don't mind, I just couldn't get my mind to cooperate with time travel so I went with a weird chemical that de-ages you and boom, young John. [I wanna add because I don't like how I worded something here, I'm not saying Sergeant Price is 18, I'm saying he likes it I just can't articulate this one sentence the way I want to.]

Pushing himself up into a sitting position with a groan, Ghost tries to take in his surroundings. His eyes feel like they've been glued shut and then ripped open, his left shoulder aches and the hilt of one of his knives is digging into his hip. He watches Soap and Gaz do the same as him, glancing around their surroundings with a look of questioning.

They'd been fine until one lone man had sprung round a corner and launched something at them. It'd moved too fast for Ghost to get a glimpse of what it was before it smacked against Price's chest and then there had been a bang before he'd woken up in his arse. Nothing around them was destroyed so it couldn't have been an explosion, what the fuck was it?

He jolts up suddenly, ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he looks over to where John had been standing. He's still unconscious but he seems relatively unharmed until Ghost's eyes drift up to his face.

He rubs a hand over his eyes, smearing them with eyeblack and catching his hands on a rough edge of his mask that he's yet to file down and fix. It changes nothing. He remains the same as he had before, clean-shaven. He not so gracefully shifts across the floor closer to the captain, gaining the two attention of the two sergeants.

It certainly looks like John, he's sure of that but there appears to be a slight problem. It might be the fact that he looks around 18, that could be it. Ghost knows that he might be hallucinating but it feels too real. He's seen pictures of a young, Sergeant Price before. Bit of a baby face until he'd committed to the beard, went from looking like a teenager to Robert Shaw in Jaws. And this looks exactly like Price pre-beard.

He can feel Gaz's hand on his shoulder as they peer down at the body in front of them and Soap's soft, barely audible "wit the fuck". So, they're all seeing it.

There's a grumble before Price? throws himself into a sitting position and scans the room, eyes stopping on the three of them. Watching the scowl form on his face as he eyes them all with confusion is almost comical.

"Who the fuck are you lot?"

Well, he has the same amount of tact that John typically has.

"Who are you?" Gaz blurts out, looking the younger man up and down.

The man seems to quickly identify them as British and SAS but it does little to quell the obvious suspicion he regards them with. "Sergeant John Price, now are you gonna tell me who you are or keep standing there like a spare prick at a whore's wedding?"

Bloody hell.

Soap's snort is obnoxious in the quiet atmosphere of the room but Ghost can't bring himself to feel annoyed about it, if he wasn't used to half of the bullshit they do then he'd probably be in fits of hysterical laughter by now.

"You sure about that?" Ghost asks him, watching the man through narrowed eyes. It'd be no good to let him know that Ghost was equally confused as he was.

Maybe John rolls his eyes, glaring at Ghost as he takes in the view of the masked man in front of him before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"You're a fuckin big lad, int ye, Skeletor? Yes, I'm sure. I know who I bloody well am."

He can't be John, he can't be. But it's so much like him, the abruptness, the demeanour and the look. He's everything like the pictures Ghost has seen and the stories he's heard from Nikolai and Kate.

"Prove it," John had told him the story once while drunk and had completely forgotten about it after, Simon had never brought it up again. He liked to pretend that they'd both forgotten about it. "scar on your shoulder blade, where did it come from?"

He refuses to feel bad about how the younger man's face falls before he can hide it with a look of anger. "Courtesy of a bottle of Johnnie Walker's finest in my old man's clumsy hands. And how the fuck does a cunt like you know that?"

It's John. It's fucking Price. It's his captain, but it isn't.

He ignores the sharp inhale from one of the sergeants behind him as he leans in closer to John, pretending not to notice how the younger man's hands clench into fists.

"You're our captain, or you're supposed to be until someone lopped something at you and now you're a bloody sergeant." There's no proper way to explain it, is there? The younger man will never believe him.

John stares blankly back at him before eventually asking a question, "Is this Mac trying to take the piss because he's annoyed about the dent in his car? The crabbit git."

Soap answers before he has the chance to,

"I'm afraid we don't ken anyhin aboot Mac or his motor, mate. And we're no rippin the piss."

The disbelief is obvious as John snorts and crosses his arms, looking far to amused at Soap's words.

"He even got another Scot to do it. Good on the bastard, I'll finally stop hearing about the amount of "smarmy Englishmen" on base. Tell me, William Wallace, where did he find you?"

The thought strikes Ghost and he's glad the balaclava hides the smirk on his face, it appears that every variation of John Price is a bit of a wanker.

Added thought is just Sergeant Price meeting current-day Nikolai and walking away because he isn't getting caught with a hard-on by the man he'd been shagging two days ago back when said man was almost twenty years younger.

[leeknow-thoughts]

𝅄  ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy

𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?

𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!

𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3

You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.

And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?

You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.

Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.

You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.

He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.

Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.

"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."

You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.

He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.

"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.

He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.

"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.

They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.

"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.

It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.

"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."

"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.

The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.

"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.

"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."

He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.

"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."

You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.

You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."

Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.

He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"

Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.

You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.

"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.

He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.

The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.

He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.

He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.

His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.

The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."

His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."

He can suddenly find the strength to face you.

When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"

"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"

You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.

Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.

He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.

Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.

Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.

"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.

"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."

All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.

Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.

Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.

"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.

He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.

His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.

"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"

If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."

He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.

You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.

He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.

He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.

You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.

You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.

You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"

He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."

"Please explain?"

"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."

"And how would you do that?"

"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"

You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."

"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"

"Excellent idea," you smirk.

Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.

He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.

You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."

You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.

You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.

"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.

He'd follow you anywhere.

Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.

"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.

He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.

The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.

Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?

Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.

His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."

He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"

"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.

You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.

He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.

"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.

His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.

"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."

"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.

He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.

He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.

"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."

His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.

"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.

His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.

"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.

Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.

"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"

"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"

How he loves you too.

His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"

Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.

"Love you," you whisper.

Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."

[after-the-end-times]

Is it Christmas Magic or is it Love?

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Hot Chocolate ☕ Rating: G ☕Words: 1000 ☕ cw: none ☕ Tags: Getting Together, single dad Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Sometimes just having someone help feels like magic, Eddie hears what Steve's really saying and does something about it Ao3

Steve pushed rewind on the vhs player and sat back down on the couch, the blue of the tv screen lighting up the room and the sounds of Eddie and Robin shuffling around coming from the speaker of the phone Steve had pulled to the couch.

“You know, I kinda wish Santa and all that Christmas magic stuff was really real.” Steve said wistfully, thinking about how much easier Christmas would be if he didn’t have to be in charge of every single aspect of creating Christmas memories for his daughter.

“Um, what? You don’t think that’d be pretty creepy in real life?” Robin asks skeptically. They, and Eddie, had just finished their monthly movie night via speakerphone, Christmas themed since it was December, and Steve thought it’d actually be pretty handy if some nice old guy in town really was secretly Santa. Except,

“Ok, maybe you have a point about the whole ‘always knowing what you’re doing’ or ‘sneaking into houses in the dead of night’ thing being creepy.” He glances over at the boxes with the tree and decorations that still needed to be put up at some point. “Still. Would be nice.”

“What’d be nice?” Eddie asks.

He sounds like he’s honestly wondering, so Steve takes a moment to try to explain it.

“I suppose...it’d be nice to have the help, you know? If “Santa” could just take something off my plate so I wouldn’t have to do everything? Like, I would love if Santa could actually just magically know what Annabelle wants even after she changes her mind fifty times and then just poof! magic it here.”

He pauses, trying to articulate this other feeling he gets on Christmas morning, without sounding too woe is me. “Also, sometimes- Ugh! Nevermind.”

He tips over on the couch, pressing his palms to he eyes.

“No, what is it?” Eddie asks, his voice gentle in the silence of Steve’s living room.

“So, I guess...you know, it’s not like I got all those Christmasy traditions for very long when I was a kid, right? I mean, we did stuff, but it wasn’t, you know, just us, doing little things throughout the month, watching movies, going skating, making popcorn garland, and all that, right? And I love doing all those things for and with Belle, I really do! But, also,” He hesitates a moment, because this feels too vulnerable. But it’s just Robin and Eddie, so, “I want that? To feel that wonder and magic she feels.”

“Steve”

Oh no, that was Robin’s concerned voice.

“You know what? I think I’m just being mopey. ‘Tis the season, right? So, just ignore me. I’m the parent, so it’s my job to create magical moments, not- Anyway! When are you guys getting to town?”

🎄🎄🎄

Robin couldn’t get work off until the week of Christmas, but Eddie’s book tour was suddenly redirected, so he was staying with Wayne for most of December. Steve was excited to have him in town, but also assumed Eddie would still be too busy to do much with him and Belle. Steve knows his friends love his kid, but he also knows that not everyone wants to hang out with a 6yo running amok, hanging off him, or trying to run off with strangers at the mall play place.

But oh, how wrong he was.

The moment Eddie got into town, he called to ask if Steve and Belle were free. Which, they were, so Eddie came right over to hang out while Steve did kid laundry. He took one look at the boxes in the living room and asked Belle if she wanted to help put up the tree and decorate the house. By the end of his visit, the whole house felt like Christmas. The tree lit up the room with glowing light, showing off six years of kid ornaments, and now, after an hour of crafting, a handful of Steve, Belle, and Eddie ornaments.

A few days later, Steve was at work when Eddie showed up bringing him a large hot chocolate and, somehow, leaving with Steve’s shopping list of gifts. He’s honestly still not sure how it happened, but either way Steve definitely didn’t expect to get home after school pickup to find Eddie at home working on dinner, and bags of gifts tucked away in Steve’s bedroom.

The next weekend, Steve had planned on taking Belle to see Santa at the mall, but the entire day had gone wrong. And Steve just could not imagine standing in an hour long line with a squiggly 6yo, even if it’s the only day that works if he wants to include the photos with their Christmas cards.

Just as he’s seriously thinking of calling it, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie had finished that day’s book signing at a local bookstore and driven by to see if he could catch them before they headed out. Somehow, just having Eddie there made going to the mall seem not too bad.

The line was just as long as Steve feared, but he and Eddie took turns walking Belle around while the other held their spot in line, so it really wasn’t too bad. Steve was getting close to the front when he saw Eddie and Belle coming through the crowd; She was holding Eddie’s hand, looking very serious about whatever she was saying, Eddie slightly bent over so he could hear her, and Steve felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes suddenly stung with emotion. Oh.

Steve pulls Eddie in to join them for their family photo with Santa.

Driving home, Eddie detours around the neighborhood, slowing down at brightly decorated houses to ooh and ahh with Belle, pointing out snowmen and Santas and reindeer.

Steve looks at him and reaches a hand over. This is what he wants, what he’s been missing. Not some Christmas magic that suddenly fixes everything for him, but this, him. Smiling over at Steve, Eddie links their hands.

[angelsdvsts]

"i mean, i guess i'm not opposed to giving you a little bit of payment. . . after all you are willing to drop anything if i need your help," could see it in him that the payment in question didn't require any sort of money, maybe she could pay with the warmth of her mouth. "you think that it'll be a maybe that we'd be able to satisfy one another?" teasing tone drops, clear that the two of them have a ton of sexual tension. a hunger that would probably get the two in some trouble -- to have him completely overpower her and mindlessly fuck her senseless. maybe a little post-nut clarity would have him realizing that ayla would be just another girl in the books. that once he got tired, he was going to throw her aside, but that's when she'd come along and break thing off before it got to that point. amusement twinkles in her hues, lips curving into a soft smile, "oh? and care to share what these needs are? since you know my needs are your needs," leans in closely, the conversation shared was far too imitate for anyone else's ears. "wouldn't you want to know? maybe those biology videos would reflect just how tight. . ." was it rude of her to tease him in this manner? to watch him tick, desperate for her in ways she couldn't imagine? "seeing me in the hallway for five seconds would have me in your mind all day long, no? think that's enough." she playfully pats his shoulder, but secretly maybe she did yearns for him to wait for her in between classes to walk her to the next. his comment causes her to glance down at her chest before chuckling as she looks back up to see his lingering, "definitely, they're actually covered up with a bra today -- that dress, it doesn't require me to wear one." allowing his imaginations to go wild, "maybe a little mouth to mouth would help bring you back to life?" a weird surge rushes through her body at the thought of him being so effected by her. femme shrugs her shoulders, nose crinkling slightly as she glances up at him, "maybe, they just thought your words meant more . . . maybe you said something during the sex that made them believe that you like them. plus, guys aren't really good at articulating how they truly feel -- so i guess i could see why they believe they're being played." a chuckle falls from her lips, "oh -- you're dirty to immediately think about fucking in public. . . especially on the first date, but who says that you aren't going to try when we get back into your car?" if anything, she'd had him do something to her before she did anything to him, as much as she'd love to wrap her lips around him. she's perched so perfectly upon his lap, everything looks so innocent -- except if she got up, he'd need something to conceal the imprint growing. "me? mean? never." she shakes her head, couldn't help the way she giggles as he chases her lips, "i don't think you can handle me, arlo." digits move to cup his features, lips teasingly brushes against his; leaning in closer and just as she was about to give him a kiss, her teeth sunk upon his upper lip before doing the same to the lowers, smoothing it over with her tongue. "mm, sorry got carried away."

"i mean i'd expect a little payment for doing my job, y'know?" although arlo was positive that it was evident that he wasn't speaking about money. he'd prefer ayla to show her gratitude in other ways. "me? well . . . i don't think you'd ever ask me to do something i didn't want or need, so maybe we'll both be satisfying each other?" from their conversation arlo got the distinct impression that she was a girl looking to be unwound, to not have to think for a while and let him take the lead, grab those long locks and take her like she so clearly craved. before ayla he struggled to satiate himself with girls, even if he'd gone balls deep inside of them it never scratched that itch and maybe he was wrong for trying to chase that with so many girls but he'd never tricked them, they'd been down to fuck and have some fun only to turn around a week later and accuse him of being an asshole for not showing up outside their window with a boombox on his arm. none of them made him want a second round, as awful as it might seem arlo couldn't handle another mid fuck. "nope, would never dream of telling you nonsense ayla. 'cause i think that your needs are my needs too", he really hopes none of the other customers or staff members can hear them, "you want that body wrecked, right? that tight little body you have . . . probably tight everywhere else too", and god, what he would give to sink himself into her cunt and make her scream. "oh yeah, seeing you for five seconds in the hallway is really going to do it for me", homme deadpans, shooting her a disbelieving look. she was insane if she believes it would. "prettier than right now?" and because she mentioned them arlo feels it's okay to take a more lingering look at those perky tits, wondering how good they'd look in a skimpy little dress. "you might just kill me before we go out for our date." arlo knew what she was talking about better than most, how something he'd assumed was a simple statement could be made into something completely different and hurtful. "i never wanted to hurt them, seriously, i never did. i was honest about everything, they just . . . i don't know, i don't have a fucking clue." he'd tried to figure it out but couldn't, there were plenty of other guys in their school looking for a relationship, he hadn't been one of them. "oh i'd never fuck you here, princess. they'd ban me from coming back and i love their drinks too much", teases with a low laugh. he respects her stance though, how she's not going to give everything away at the drop of a hat. she makes him sweat, work for it. jaw tightens as she squirms on his lap, soft body rubbing and rolling against his growing bulge. "you've got a mean streak in you, y'know that?" pleasure shoots through him as she nips at his skin, hands flattening against her sides as he leans forward to chase her mouth with his own. "fuck me up then, ayla."

[sumbarbietingz]

Burning Desires

You start working for Toji Zenin, the famous CEO of Zenin Inc. But your relationship won't stay professional for too long as attraction comes in the way

Chapter 1 : Welcome to Zenin Inc.

CEO!Toji x black!fem character

The series contains : smut (dom!toji, age diff, degradation and praise kink, choking, hair pulling, rough sex, foreplay, boundage, squirting, creampie and breeding kink) fluff, angst (mention of SA, violence, mental health issues, mention of teenage pregnancy, mention of death)

Words count: 4,5k

You can see the nword sometimes too lol.

Mazikeen is a talented and hardworking individual who has applied for a position as Toji Zenin’s new secretary. She's confident and articulate, with a sharp mind and an ability to keep things organized and running smoothly. It's the day of Maze's job interview, and she's feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as she walks into Toji's office building. He’s a wealthy and successful businessman and Zenin Inc. is a prestigious company who’s worth billions of dollars. She's also heard rumors about him being a difficult boss and a tough negotiator, but she's determined to make a good impression and land the job.

As she steps into Toji's office for the interview, she's taken aback by his intimidating presence. He's sitting behind his desk, looking every bit the powerful CEO he is. He gestures for her to sit down in the chair opposite him, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘I knew he was hot but GODDAMN HE’S A GOD!’ Is what she’s thinking deep down as she takes a seat. She can smell his expensive cologne from where she’s sitting, the perfume intoxicating her senses.

"So, you're here to apply for the position of my secretary," Toji says, his voice low and gravelly. "What makes you think you're qualified for this job?"

Maze feels butterflies in her stomach once she hears his voice. This man is already affecting her after a single sentence and a few seconds of entering his office. Takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "Sir, I have experience in administrative work, excellent organizational skills, and a strong work ethic," she says confidently. "I also can handle confidential information discreetly."

Toji raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed by her confident tone. "I see" he says, leaning back in his chair. "And what do you know about the demands of this job? It's not just about pencil-pushing and answering phone calls. It requires a great deal of multitasking and the ability to handle stressful situations with composure."

Maze nods, already mentally prepared for his questions. "I fully understand the demands of the job. I'm able to work under pressure, prioritize tasks, and manage multiple projects at once. I know how to deal with difficult situations and maintain a level head even in challenging circumstances."

Toji studies her for a moment, his eyes never leaving her face. He can see the determination and confidence in her expression, and it's admirable. "You seem capable" his tone less cold than before. "But being a secretary requires a certain level of trust and loyalty. Can I trust you to keep my private affairs confidential?"

"Absolutely, sir" Maze responds immediately. "Your privacy and the confidential nature of your work are of the utmost importance to me. I assure you that I would never betray your trust or disclose any sensitive information without your explicit permission."

Toji nods, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good. But being my secretary also means that you'll be working closely with me, attending meetings and events by my side. Are you prepared for that kind of exposure and scrutiny?"

Maze nods confidently again. "I'm prepared to be a visible member of your team and represent you in public settings. I'm good with people and have the ability to handle any inquiries or interactions with finesse and professionalism."

Toji leans forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "This job also requires a significant amount of travel. Are you willing to accompany me on business trips, often at short notice and often to different time zones?"

Maze doesn’t answer directly, she hesitates and Toji notices that.

"What’s the problem?"

Maze takes a deep breath before replying "Nothing sir."

See the thing is, Toji has a liar detector test for a brain. He knows something is going on. So he picks back up her resume, and reads it while talking to her

"Do you have maybe family members to take care of or something?" He notices her birth date. 22 years old? She’s basically a baby. How come she already has so many experiences?

Maze nods "I got a daughter."

His eyes widen slightly. She’s a mom? He would’ve never guessed "How old is she?"

"She’s 7" Maze replies

Toji keeps his composure but he’s genuinely shocked to learn that she has a 7 yo while being so young. A lot of things become more clear now. "I see. Just so you know, the company provides services for the parents. Such as babysitting and long-term babysitting for the employees who have to travel. And don’t worry, all our babysitters are licensed and pros."

Maze feels a wave of relief once she hears that, even though she doesn’t like the idea of leaving her daughter to someone else for more than a day. But she knows she needs this job. "I’m glad to hear that. I’m prepared to travel whenever and wherever you need me. I understand the importance of flexibility and being able to adapt to new surroundings quickly." She responds confidently now

Toji leans back in his chair, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He's impressed by her responses, her confidence and determination, and her willingness to adapt to his demanding schedule despite having a child. "Very well. You seem to be a capable candidate. But there's one more thing I need to know..." He leans forward, his eyes intense as they lock with hers. "You need to be able to handle me," he says, his tone serious. "I'm not an easy person to work for. I'm demanding, and I have little patience for excuses or mistakes. Are you prepared for that?"

Maze doesn't waver under his intense gaze, her confidence unwavering. "I understand the nature of your expectations, sir. And I'm more than prepared to handle the demands of the job and the challenges that come with working for you. I'm not one to back down from a challenge."

Toji studies her for another moment, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt. But all he sees is determination and confidence staring back at him. He can't help the flicker of satisfaction he feels as he leans back in his chair. "You have a strong spirit. I like that."

"Thank you, sir" Maze responds, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I believe determination and perseverance are important qualities for any job, but especially for being your secretary."

Toji nods, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Alright, then," he says, folding his hands on his desk. "I think I've seen enough. The HR department will contact you for an update."

Maze nods, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for your time, sir," she says while gathering her things. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you." She leaves his office, the sounds of her heels resonating in the room

Toji watches as she turns to leave, his eyes lingering on her figure for a moment before she disappears out the door. There's something about her that intrigues him, her determination and confidence, unlike anyone he's met before. But his thoughts go back to her age and her child. So many things pop up in his mind. Was she reckless and didn’t protect herself? Did the birth control fail? Did her parents pressure her to keep the baby? Or maybe she wanted to face the consequences of her actions and not run away? Or maybe she couldn’t get an abortion? So many theories come and go until a phone call breaks him out of his reverie.

A few days later Maze is at work, getting restless since the HR department still hasn’t called her back yet. She eventually thinks that she didn’t convince Toji and that she’ll have to forget about this opportunity. As she keeps typing on her computer, her phone buzzes, but she doesn’t recognize the number. She picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mazikeen Washington?" a pleasant voice on the other end of the line inquired.

"Yes it is." She says curiously

"Great, I'm calling from the Human Resources department of Zenin Incorporated. We have an update for you regarding your recent job interview with Mr. Toji Zenin."

"Oh, um, yes. I'm listening," Maze says, her heart racing even faster now. It’s the call she had been waiting for all week.

"We're pleased to inform you that your interview went very well," the HR representative said. "Mr. Zenin was very impressed with you and has personally requested that you join his team as his new secretary."

Maze gasp, her eyes widening in surprise, she feels a burst of excitement "Really?"

"Yes, he does" the HR representative confirmes. "Mr. Zenin was very enthusiastic about your qualifications and your confidence during the interview. He feels that you would be a valuable addition to his team."

"I, um, wow…" Maze stutters, still trying to process the news. "This is... unexpected. But, I mean, I'm honored. l'd be happy to accept the position."

"Excellent, we just need to finalize some paperwork and arrange a start date. Would you be available to come to our office sometime this week to sign the necessary documents?"

Maze replies, her mind spinning with with excitement "Yes, of course, when would be convenient for you? I'm free anytime."

"How about tomorrow afternoon around 2 p.m.? That way, we can get all the paperwork taken care of and you can start the job as soon as possible." She suggests

"Tomorrow afternoon works perfectly I’ll be there at 2 p.m." she agrees

"Great, we’ll see you then. And congratulations on your new position, Ms. Washington."

"Thank you so much," Maze says, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'm looking forward to joining Mr. Zenin's team."

She ends the call, and Maze stands there for a moment, trying to digest the news. She couldn’t believe it - she had gotten the job. She’s going to be working directly for Toji Zenin, the handsome and intimidating CEO who had captivated her thoughts for days.2 months later, Maze adapted to her new workplace at Zenin Incorporate. She's cordial with the majority of her colleagues, but the one she started being friends with outside of work is Jay (Jayna) Malone. These two are basically twins. Regarding her job, everything is going smoothly. The paycheck is good, she got to spend time with Nya her daughter, her duties are not as exhausting as she expected them to be, and as for Toji... there's definitely something going on in the air. She notices the way his hand lingers a bit too long when he gives her some files, she notices the way he looks for eye contact when he comes into the building when the entire lobby goes quiet in his presence, this tension whenever he calls her in his office or when he comes in hers... Trusting Jay enough she talked about all these small details and Jay came to the conclusion Maze thinks deep down herself: he's attracted to her. Maze being the reasonable one still thinks this is all in their head and even if he is attracted to her, nothing will happen, because after all, well, he's her boss. Jay being the wild and reckless friend tells her to go for it anyway. Because he’s ‘hot as fuck, rich as fuck, built like a brick wall and he prolly fuck good’. Horny bitch.

It’s Friday and per usual Maze is answering phone calls, doing Excel spreadsheets, and planning Toji’s schedule, when she hears the door knocking.

"Come in!"

The door opens and Toji comes inside her office. He’s wearing that black suit that’s almost too tight for his muscular body. He smells like that usual expensive cologne that drives Maze crazy.

"Come in my office," He says, his voice indicating that it’s an order

She nods "Yes Mr Zenin." She’s used to his demanding tone, he warned her about it after all. She stands up and follows him outside. His office is right next to hers so it takes her 10 seconds to be there. She opens the door and comes in, his large and organized desk, his red velvet sofa on the corner and the large windows that offer a beautiful view of the city, greeting her per usual.

But her heart skips a beat once she hears the sound of the door being locked. She swallows and slowly turns around, noticing something different in Toji’s expression. It’s not his usual nonchalant and composed look, it’s darker… and lustful. He has his hands in his pockets as he slowly approaches her, like a predator ready to jump on its prey. "You feel it too don’t you."

She slowly walks back, her heart beating like crazy. "Feel what Mr Zenin?"

He rolls his eyes as he keeps approaching you. "You know damn well what I’m talking about. This tension whenever we’re alone. I know you feel it as much as I do."

She keeps walking back slowly. God, he’s right, but she didn’t want to admit it. Of course, she feels it too. This consuming need to kiss him senseless, to be taken by him anywhere he wanted, those butterflies in her stomach whenever the two of them made eye contact in the middle of a reunion. She felt everything. "I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr Zenin."

"Don’t lie to me Maze. I see the way you look at me. The eye contacts we keep making."

She suddenly feels his desk hitting the back of her thighs, her heart beats so fast she feels like it might burst out of her chest. She can feel herself breathing a bit faster. "I…"

Toji is now in her personal space. He puts his hands on the edge of the desk to cage her. He can feel her sweet vanilla perfume filling his nostrils and her body heat radiating. Maze bites her lip at the proximity, she can feel his hard chest against her own. He’s so intoxicating. He comes closer to her face, his warm breath caressing her lips

"Tell me Maze. Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want me, and I won’t insist." He says his voice deep, almost a whisper.

"Mr Zenin… I… we… we can’t…" she says whispering, her mind yelling at her to say no, but her body telling her to say yes.

Toji chuckles and caresses her jawline with his finger, the touch sending shivers down her spine "I’m the boss sweetheart, besides that’s not what I asked. I want a clear answer." He responds, his voice soft yet firm. He’s now licking her lower lip, causing her to whimper softly. Her body is in heat, she can’t take it anymore.

"Say it Maze. Say you want me as much as I want you"

Maze feels like she’s being tented by the devil, like she’s Eve, and the snake is telling her to eat the forbidden fruit while whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She lets a shaky breath as she finally answers

"I… I want yo- mmph!" She barely has time to answer that Toji crashes his lips against hers with a loud groan, relieved he can finally taste her. He holds her by her jaw as he kisses her freveletly. Maze moans against his mouth, she sits on his desk and wraps her legs around his hips, feeling his arousal against hers. The kiss is heated, it’s a mess of tongues dancing together, moans and groans. Toji keeps his mouth against hers while he clumsily takes of his vest, so does Maze with her own. She removes her heals with her feet and her hands run on Toji’s chest, feeling his hard defined muscles under her fingers. Toji groans and leaves her lips to attack her neck, leaving kisses and love bites on it. Maze moans while unbuttoning his shirt. Once she’s done she helps Toji taking it off and finally sees the beauty that was hidden behind these expensive Zegna and Versace suits. She caresses his chest in lust and admiration, feeling his muscles flexing.

"My turn." Before Maze can say anything he lifts her shirt and pushes her on the desk, so he can take her breast in his mouth, humming as he suckles on her brown nipples while massaging her tits. She moans and feels her panties getting wetter and wetter by his ministrations "Mmm… Mr Zenin…"

"I think we’re past the point of formalities here. Call me Toji." He says between suctions. Maze nods while breathing heavily, feeling excited but also a bit embarrassed to call her boss by his name. But oh well he’s getting breastfed by her so embarrassment should be the least of her concerns. "O-okay… Toji" she breathes out

"Mmm, that’s it, sweetheart. Much better. I wanna hear you moan my name, not Mr Zenin" he grinds his bulge against her core, already impatient to be inside her. Maze hisses in pleasure from all the sensations "Fuck… mmh keep sucking on my tits while you rub your dick on my clit…"

Toji chuckles "You don’t get to tell me what to do darling" Then he stops, causing her to whine in protest. He grabs her by the throat and lifts her back up. "I’m still your boss remember? And I want you to do everything I ask you to do without discussing my orders, even now. Understood?"

Maze didn’t realize how much she loved being controlled like this until now. She bites her lip and nods eagerly "Anything you want Toji~"

"Good girl." He takes a step back and brings Maze closer to him by her neck. "Kneel." He says, his voice deep and dominating, indicating no back talk will be allowed. Maze nods and slowly gets on her knees, her eyes not leaving his.

Seeing her on her knees for him, looking at him with this needy expression on her face turns Toji on Even more. He has imagined it multiple times but seeing the real thing is better than anything. "Undress me then suck my cock."

Maze feels like a pool has formed between her legs. She can’t wait to finally have him in her mouth, so she quickly unbuckles his pants and undress him. And once she pulls his boxers down, she almost moans at the sight that greets her. This man couldn’t be more perfect. His length is huge and veiny, leaving a very small amount of pubic hair, and his balls are big. She lifts her skirt and starts rubbing her clit as she gets ready to lick the tip. But Toji’s grip on her neck tightens a bit. "Ah ah ah sweetheart. Don’t touch yourself. You’re not allowed to do that yet"

She whines again "But Toji I wanna-" She gets cut off with a gasp as she feels his grip tightening more, "I said. Don’t. Touch. Yourself." His voice is deeper, making it clear that he won’t allow disobedience.

She nods quickly and removes her hand to place both of them on his hips for balance, as she starts licking his cock. Toji groans softly and lets go of her neck to place his hand behind her head, his fingers playing with her tight curls. "Mmh… that’s it baby"

It doesn’t take long for Maze to suck his dick like a starving woman. She spits on it, gags and chokes on it, lets the drool flow on her chest, and makes sure to exaggerate every sound that comes out of her, meanwhile Toji groans in pleasure as he tightens his grip on her hair. "Fuck… you’re so good…" He loves how she’s behaving like a pornstar and how she’s feasting on him like he’s her last meal. "You look so slutty while sucking me. You look like you enjoy it too" he chuckles

Maze removes his length from her mouth, letting out a ragged exhale "Yes… so much…" She then licks and sucks his balls while stroking him. Toji grunts then grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, admiring her mouth covered in spit, her brown and pink lips swollen, her runny nose and teary eyes. He bites his lip at the view, she looks so perfect, messy for him.

"Go lay on the desk" Maze nods and immediately obeys him, she’s shivering in anticipation. Toji stands between her legs and lifts her skirt up to her stomach, not bothering to take it off. He takes off her panties throws them somewhere and admires her body. She’s stunning. Her brown little pussy was already so wet and ready for him, her curvy body on display for him. She’s perfect. He grabs her thighs and slowly lowers his head. "You’re beautiful." Is the last thing he says before licking her wet core.

Maze lets out a deep moan, her aching clit finally gets some attention, and it feels so good. She runs her fingers through his hair and with her other hand she grips the desk. He’s a real pro. He knows where to lick and suck, how to make her moan louder and make her grip his hair harder. He also spits on her clit, he wants it to be messy. Toji grunts once he feels the way her hips start riding his face. But once again, he’s the one in control, so he grabs her hips tightly and pins them back firmly on the desk to show her she’s not in charge. But Maze loves it. She loves the way Toji dominates her and he knows that. He keeps eating her pussy up and down, left and right, wanting to generate more of those sweet moans. She starts breathing heavily, her legs are shaking, and she feels the orgasm coming. "T-toji im gonna cum…" Then Toji inserts two fingers in her gummy walls, folding them inside her, and moves them back and forth while he licks and sucks her clit. That does it for Maze. She cries out and sees stars as she feels the wave of her orgasm crushing her. Toji moans when he hears the beauty of her moan, he wants more, so much more from her.

He takes his fingers out, lifts his head, and sees a look of pure bliss on her face, her eyes are half-lidded and she’s panting hard. He grabs her by the throat again and kisses her so she can taste herself. She moans against his mouth and passes her tongue on his lower lip. Toji breaks the kiss and brings the fingers he used to finger her into her mouth. Maze doesn’t hesitate and sucks on his fingers, humming while looking him in the eyes. "Mmm… you’re such a naughty little secretary." She nods while she keeps sucking. He removes his fingers and pushes her back on the desk. She knows what’s coming and she can’t wait, even though she’s still sensitive from the orgasm.

He grabs his dick and rubs her pussy lips with the tip. Without wasting another second, he slides inside of her, which causes her to gasp and let out a long moan of pleasure and pain from his girth. "T-toji... you're stretching me.." He only chuckles as he moves his hips slowly but deeply. "That's the point. I want your pussy to be able to only take my dick and mine alone. I'm gonna fucking ruin you, sweetheart. You want that?" She's so lost in the pleasure that she simply agrees with him. "Yes... yes... ruin me..."

He groans and grabs her hips "Good girl, now shut up and take it." After that, he goes faster and harder, which makes the desk rock hard. Maze is completely lost in ecstasy. He's stretching her in a way she never thought could be possible from a single person, his thick tip keeps poking her cervix as if it's trying to go deeper inside her, it's too much. But it feels incredibly good. All she can do is take his treatment and moan loudly, her voice resonating in his office along with the skin-on-skin noises. Then he pulls out and flips her easily. He grabs her thick ass, smacks it, and buries himself inside her again.

He keeps the same pace from earlier, which makes Maze moan louder from the new angle. He makes both Maze and the desk rock fast with his powerful thrusts. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull as downright pornographic moans and random words escape her mouth "Ouuuu Toji…. It feels so good…" He groans pushes her flat on the desk and grabs a hold of her hair while keeping his thrusts unforgiving. Her ass claps and jiggles against him, her curves drive him crazy. "You love being fucked senseless like a whore uh?" She nods like a dumbass, his dick has turned her brain into mush "Yes… yes… yessss… I love when you fuck me like a whore…" she says in between moans, barely even able to speak properly as tears come running on her face to ruin her makeup. He lets go of her hair to grab her cheeks so he can have a better look at her. He sees the face of a woman who having the best sex of her life, her mascara running down her cheeks. And this beautiful, dumb look on her face makes his cock twitch. With the way her pussy keeps pulsating around him he can tell she’s getting close to cum again.

So while he’s still inside her, he lifts her and walks towards the massive windows of his office. Maze gasps in surprise, but she can’t deny how much she loves being picked up so easily and manhandled by Toji. Once they’re at the window, he puts her down and pushes her against it, her tits pressed against the cold glass sends shivers down her spine, a sweet contrast to the hot temperature of her body. Toji keeps the same pace, making Maze moan again, her cheek, hands, and breasts pressed hard against the surface. Eventually, she feels another orgasm coming, and her pussy clenches around his cock, swallowing him completely. "Toji… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum…" He grabs her hips tighter, his pace staying the same "I know baby I can feel you getting close. Cum for me. Cum on my dick." It doesn’t take her too long after that to come undone again, a loud cry of pleasure resonates in the room. Her legs are shaking uncontrollably, she’s sweating like crazy and her breath becomes ragged. This orgasm was so powerful that she was barely able to move again. After a few more thrusts, it’s finally Toji’s turn to reach his orgasm. He grunts and quickly pulls out, strokes himself a few times, and cums on her ass, the warm semen dripping down her butt. He wraps his arms around her waist and pants against her neck. "That was amazing, right sweetheart?" She doesn’t even answer as her mind is now clear, and regret instantly hits her like a truck.

‘Oh God. What have I done?’

[nimblelizard]

i am UNWELL about this man

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[the-meme-monarch]

making an animatic is so embarrassing. hey do you want to see the 26 second video I’m drawing. yeah it’s to a funny audio. do you mind if i show it to you twelve more times over the course of a week

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[moe-broey]

LIKE!!!!!! BEING TRANSGENDER BEING QUEER IN ANY WAY ISN'T HARMFUL BEHAVIOR!!!!!!! IT'S LITERALLY NOT EVEN A BEHAVIOR!!!!! IT'S JUST A THING THAT YOU ARE!!!!!! And SOMETIMES. You act accordingly! You may change your name and pronouns! You may seek HRT! You may look into surgery! You may only do a few of those things or any combination of those things (or maybe even none?!), whichever works for you and your sense of self-actualization. BUT. Doing ANY of those things. Is NOT HARMFUL BEHAVIOR!!!!!!!!!!! And in the sexuality department! If you have "same sex attraction" as they like to call it. Also not even a behavior. It's just a thing you Feel. But of course you gotta moralize Feelings, too. Forget about it!!!!! And if you Act on it. That's still not harmful. Who are you harming? Giving a little kissie to your same gendered homie???? Or getting handsy????? But on God. Do not get me started. My MAIN POINT. Is that there is literally no harm. There is nothing to correct here. There is nothing to fix here. Except for the hatred in your heart!!!!!! Your fear of the unknown!!!!!!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME ONGOING EVERLASTING TRAUMA OVER THIS THIS IS FUCKING STUPID‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[good-beanswrites]

Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.

Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!

Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...

I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm

Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.

Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.

“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.

She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 

Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 

“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.

It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”

She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 

Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.

She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.

Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 

So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 

“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 

“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 

At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”

Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.

“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”

The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.

But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.

Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 

At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 

“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”