#if another supervisor gives me hell for no reason i’m going off on them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slightlymore · 4 years ago

Text

hardest to love

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

surgeon!doyoung x surgeon!fem reader

others: haechan, jaemin, jeno

genre: medical au (but the medical part is not heavy), romance, angst, smut, fantasy elements, “enemies” to lovers, mutual pining

warnings: +18, esplicit sexual content: doyoung is a hard dom and a soft dom in different scenes, short instances of sub doyoung, finger sucking (I know, I have a hand kink), spanking, raw, ice play, fingering, dry humping, thigh riding, choking, use of "sir", orgasm control and denial, edging, overstimulation, light degradation, oral f, brat taming, safe word, wine play?; lots of teasing; swearing; discussion around death; doyoung is a jerk but gets better

words: 13k

note: you can read this as a stand alone without having read the other works in the soulmate collection. what you need to know: haechan, jeno and jaemin travel different universes with the purpose of getting doyoung and yn be together. mark is trying to do the opposite. sometimes doyoung can remember past lives and sometimes he can't. this life takes place in a hospital. if you're confused by the three boys’ story everything will be explained in their backstory fics coming soon.

__________

Haechan let out a single deep sigh.

“Damn it. Doyoung is a fucking jerk in this life.”

The three young men were standing in the corner of the room watching two students trembling mortified in front of a pissed off Doyoung before he could turn around on his heels.

“I thought he was a jerk in all lives,” Jeno commented while dusting off imaginary lice off his jacket.

"I’ll be honest. When you said 'hell' I didn't expect the ER."

“Well have you ever been to-” Haechan continued but stopped when noticing Jeno not listening to him anymore but observing their third friend instead.

“Hey, Jaemin?” Jeno put one hand on his shoulder.

Jaemin was weak and paler than usual, eyes wide and with a slightly trembling chin. He then followed the direction of the younger gaze and gasped himself.

“Yeah,” Haechan grated the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I told you this one is going to be hard.”

Jaemin gulped, looking at himself walking around the bed and checking on the patients.

That Jaemin looked exactly like him.

The only difference was the clothes. That doppelganger had a doctor gown instead of a sweatshirt.

“How is this possible? I don’t understand how I can be here and there at the same time.”

Haechan sighed at Jaemin’s comment.

“You could consider it time travel. Now, listen to me.”

Jaemin let himself be grabbed by Haechan’s hands, pressing on both of his arms and looked at the other’s intense eyes.

“You have to avoid yourself while we work and-,” he stopped as if making sure to have Jaemin’s whole attention, “-you can’t talk to her.”

As if Haechan’s voice was a spell that summons people, Jaemin raised his gaze from him to look behind Haechan’s shoulder where a woman was slowly walking the corridor, eyebrows furrowed trying to understand the medical records she was carrying.

“Shit,” Haechan silently cursed and, placing one hand on Jaemin’s cheek, he indicated to keep quiet by putting one finger on his own lips.

If Jaemin weren’t so weak in the limbs upon seeing her, he would have felt the tingle on his skin coming from Haechan’s palm, or he would have realized that the woman walked past them as if they were all invisible.

Jeno, arms crossed on his chest, followed the woman with his eyes then nodded once as to indicate that the path was clear.

“Why can’t I talk to her?”

Jaemin’s head wanted to turn around and catch another glimpse but Haechan didn’t move his hand from his face yet.

“You might, I promise. But only when I say so.”

“Haechan and I can shapeshift and become invisible but you can’t and we won’t be around to babysit you all the time. Do your part and stay out of trouble.”

"You look mean,” Jaemin mumbled.

"I am. Now move."

__________

A breath.

A deep and heavy breath.

He was hearing it inside his skull. His own irregular breath inside his own skull.

Then a loud ringing suffocated every other sound in Doyoung’s ears. Like tinnitus, he thought, so used to elaborate information by classifying it into boxes.

The man was looking at his hands as if they were not his, fingers gripping the defibrillator pads, watching how the chest underneath them rose and fell.

Again.

And again.

A machine. The defibrillator and Doyoung.

And that body as well.

But it was too broken to be fixed.

And when he barely heard the nurse’s question he straightened his back. “Time of death,” he inhaled, his hands now uncovering the wristwatch, “2:41 am,” he exhaled.

__________

Doyoung felt it inside his hands, under the skin.

It was uncomfortable.

He looked at his left palm and wished it trembled.

"A surgeon," the announcement came in the form of a hard pat on the shoulders.

Doyoung blinked surprised and put his glasses back up on the nose.

"Great hands," the professor shook them with vigour, his eyes wide open and intense. "Steady," the old man continued his litany of compliments.

Doyoung let him wiggle his arms for a few more seconds before sighing as another student grabbed the professor's attention.

The young boy looked down at his hands as well after the man turned his back.

His eyes scanned every line in his palms as if seeing them for the first time.

"Those hands will do big things in the future" and Doyoung now, shoulders heavy, moist fringe patted on his forehead in the humidity of the terrace, felt like cutting his hands off.

Yes. Big things.

Like playing with life and death.

Didn't you just kill a man? he asked his hands, lower lip trembling instead of his steady fingers. Huh? and you're fine?

Doyoung tightened his fists with disgust and punched the air while letting them fall with force to his sides.

The rain intensified and he stepped in the front further until feeling the cold and heavy drops hit his face. Their sound was chaotic and it calmed Doyoung's heart.

Again.

I can do it again. I've done it before.

I do it again.

I can get over it.

He opened up his hands under the rain until he started to not feel his fingertips anymore.

Then he walked back inside the hospital.

__________

When you had to deal with the first dying patient, you were paralyzed.

It was very early in the morning. Your head was still full of the dreams you had just a while ago. Your heart was full of life and excitement for finally being able to work in the field.

"Get your shit together."

That voice startled you.

Doctor Kim, the most ruthless and cold person you've ever met, was your supervisor as an intern.

You looked up at him and caught his dark eyes on that spectrally pale face.

You just moved. You had no idea what you were doing. Terrified, you let your body work automatically.

Doctor Kim was calm and efficient while your whole mind felt out of place.

Oh, God. Oh God, please.

And when his voice finally reached your ears as if from far away you sunk down on your knees.

"Good job everyone."

The kindest thing he has ever said to his interns.

The other vaguely kind thing was his introductory discourse.

"I know that interning at the ER is dreadful, but that's life."

He was staring you all down, a short line of fresh out of med school trembling kids, no one having the courage to meet his eyes.

"You have to be ready to see all sorts of things here. Okay, let's go."

And that was it.

The encouragement of his introductory discourse.

You'll feel like shit here, welcome.

You hated him and you swore to yourself that you won’t behave the same.

Ever.

He was like a souless machine, walking around and tending to his duties. Lost in thoughts as your eyes scanned his figure walking busily around the hospital, you actually wondered if he had feelings at all.

The first time you saw Doctor Kim actually show some type of sentiment, was when he exited the surgery room one day.

You were walking around with the others and checking on the patients when he walked through the corridor like a storm. It was unclear what type of feeling that was but it made you unable to stop staring at his side of the face and back as he entered his office.

The anaesthetist came out soon after, slowly and sighing deeply.

And then you understood.

You've lived many of those days afterwards until you had to welcome your own row of interns.

You smiled and did a nice short welcoming discourse.

And at that moment you, unfortunately, got what Doctor Kim meant when he was brusque with you in the beginning.

It took you all three years of residency to finally get it: there were no actual right words to tell the students and there was no point in giving fake hope that everything is going to be alright.

Still, there was no point in being a rude ass like him. So you at least smiled kindly and encouraged your students.

God knew they needed it even more now.

You've never spoken much to Doctor Kim besides what was needed or the routine good morning sir and the short morning he would answer with.

So it was strange that on the first day of your career as a real surgeon, after your hands and those of Doctor Kim near each other worked, barely moving, his muffled voice ordering the tools, your muffled voice doing the same, you hugged him.

You hugged him that day for no reason besides the overwhelming feeling of being alive.

Doctor Kim, after every surgery, good or bad, would always walk out on the terrace.

You followed him that night and stopped behind his frame. You had to talk to someone about what just happened and he was the only one who might understand.

He was facing the city lights and the wind breeze ruffled his hair. He didn’t care to push it off his forehead.

"You did well today," he said quietly without looking at you.

Oh, you blinked fast.

Your first surgery was a success but your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't understand your feelings.

Were you happy? Were you about to cry? Did you want to scream and jump? What did you want?

But Doyoung just complimented you.

So again, you let your body work automatically and you looked at yourself, as if going through depersonalization, timid feet filling the space between you and Doctor Kim, your hands touching his waist and going around it until meeting each other on his stomach. You placed your head on his shoulders and closed your eyes.

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Doctor Kim's body was stiff, no reaction from his posture, no words coming from his mouth.

Was he shocked? Was he wondering what the hell were you doing? Was he about to tell you to get your shit together again like that first time three years prior?

But he didn’t do any of these things.

He sighed once and you imagined him closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of your body.

Even if for a moment. Even if it was all in your head and he actually hated it.

Then he took a step forward and you had to let him go.

And when he turned around and placed one palm on your shoulder without looking at you in the face, you remained alone on the terrace, breathing the cold air deeply and longing for his hands to hold you a little longer.

__________

Doyoung didn't speak to you again after that night.

Nor did he look at you once.

While you found yourself staring at his nape every time he walked around. Or turning your head as if following the trail he left behind.

You couldn’t wear perfume in the hospital but it was as if Doyoung did because he’d pull your senses towards him by something invisible.

As if that first touch you shared connected you to him in obscure ways.

“Here’s the coffee that you asked for, sir.” You entered his office after his dry “come in”.

His expression was priceless and for a moment you felt the urge to look behind you and see if there were a ghost scaring him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Bringing you the coffee?”

“I asked a student to do it, not you. You’re a surgeon.”

Your lips were dangerously trying to form a smile while you placed the coffee on his desk.

“Why does it matter? I am free while those students are busy learning how to be doctors.”

“You think that just because you hugged me once when you were emotionally unstable, now we’re friends?”

That question was so sudden and cold to make you snap your head upwards.

His eyes were darker than usual and you almost gulped.

“No, sir.”

Your voice came out as a tiny exhale and if he felt sorry for his sudden and out of place tone, you couldn't see it on his face at all.

"I was just being friendly as all colleagues would," you added a new note to your own tone, trying to perhaps make him feel guilty.

"You can give me up."

His reply shut you up and you furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

"I'm saying," he spoke slowly, "that I don't want to be friendly with you. Now, please leave."

________

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" you threw your head back to drink your espresso shot as if it was alcohol and slammed the paper cup back on the counter.

Jaemin sighed pouring sugar into his coffee.

"Why did you even try? He's a jerk."

The man sipped on his drink slowly, the warmth of it misting his glasses.

“I just-” you huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. “We’re colleagues. It made sense for him to be a piece of shit with us when we were interns but now? ‘I don’t want to be friendly with you’” you mocked his deep voice. “Who the fuck does he think he is? I swear I’ll accidentally stab him with a knife!”

“Hm. Do you like him?” Jaemin asked with an unimpressed tone.

You almost grabbed the coffee from Jaemin’s hands and threw it in his face.

“Are you insane? What does that mean? Why would I like him? Kim Doyoung? Me-” you pressed your index on your chest, “liking that asshole? I hate his guts! I can’t believe you said something like this! What’s to like about him?”

Jaemin felt his fringe move around his forehead at your intense voice as if it were wind.

“No need to get so worked up about it. You’re just talking so often about him lately. Also, he’s objectively good looking. He’s also smart. I understand.”

“He’s the ugliest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on! And he’s an idiot! And I don’t talk about him! I have no idea what you’re all about.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes and finished the drink.

“Talking of ugly. What’s that shirt you’re wearing?” you asked.

The man’s head snapped down to look at it. “What’s wrong with it?”

You chuckled once. “Where did you buy it?”

“It’s a normal Polo.”

You laughed even harder. “A Polo you say? And what’s that? A knock off Holo?”

“What’s Holo?”

Jaemin’s face was genuinely confused and it amused you even more.

“Are you getting enough sleep? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Or,” he relaxed his expression, lifting one index up, “I come from an alternate universe.”

You chuckled once and hit his shoulder lightly as a greeting, liking his new joking side. “See you later then, alternate universe Jaemin.”

__________

Doyoung wanted to hit his head on the desk.

Your expression, hurt and shocked because of his stupid remarks made his heart tingle in a very uncomfortable way.

One thing was being severe and one thing was being rude for no reason at all.

But the thing is that you were everywhere and he hated it.

Doyoung hated that you were trying to get under his skin.

Like a scent. Like some kind of drug.

He’d scrub his hands and forearms even harder before going inside the surgery room as if with the water and soap he could get rid of the feeling of your arms around his torso under the rain too.

What were you even thinking? Asking for reassurance? From him? Reassurance from the most hated man in the whole hospital? What did you even expect? Why would you even try?

What a reckless person.

He noticed it the first time he saw you as well.

Eyes wide with curiosity and surprise, looking around the ER like it was the best place in the world. Doyoung hated your happiness but he also hated the fact that he would have to assist that light slowly die out with time.

Or at least he thought that would happen.

Days after days, months after months, he paid attention like a scientist looking at his object of study, taking mental notes and registering results. Doyoung would jolt with secret joy when his theories would reveal themselves to be true but then, like a rollercoaster, he’d feel weighed down with grief seeing you in the same state as his one.

Until he didn’t know what to desire to see anymore.

Until one day he lifted his eyes, head full of a soliloquy towards you. “How are you today? Tell me you got better. Tell me you still have your light because no one needs too many black holes in here.”

Until he realized that he couldn’t remember anything about his life before you.

And when you hugged him that day, he felt proud. For your success and your light.

You were a star and he bathed into that warmth for a little before remembering he was still a black hole and black holes attract stars until engulfing them whole with no turning back.

_________

“Why are you always around?” he blinked annoyed.

You straightened your gown that shifted after bumping into him and sighed loudly.

“In case you forgot, I work here.”

Doyoung sighed.

“This is the farthest yard from where you’re always playing with your friends.”

“I had business coming here.”

“What business?”

“That’s my business.”

Doyoung’s corner of the mouth twitched.

“It’s our business.”

“Are you a communist?” you placed your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side.

“I’m your superior. What are you doing here?”

A few nurses whispered passing you by and you cleared your throat, trying to relax your face muscles. Doyoung rolled his eyes once upon seeing your new fake cordial expression.

“Apparently I’m doing such a good job that Mr Jung wanted to compliment me,” you raised your chin.

“Mr Jung?”

“Yes.”

His nostrils widened as if he had too much air to inhale and didn’t have time to get it little by little.

“He doesn’t just summon people to compliment them. Stay away from him.”

You scoffed incredulously at his innuendo.

“Are you hearing yourself?”

“Very well. Get back to work now.”

“Are you perhaps jealous?” the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself.

But Doyoung, to your biggest surprise, smirked a little, lifting his eyebrows once.

“And if I were?” he asked, then walked around you, leaving you still for long moments in the corner of the corridor before being able to walk again.

_________

“And then he said, “and if I were?”

Jaemin gulped his food and chuckled. “I can’t imagine that.”

“I know right? Was he crazy?” you asked with your mouth full, swinging your knife.

“Maybe the director does have eyes on you. And-” he leaned in mischievously, avoiding your cutlery, “that’s why he acts as if he hates you. Because he has feelings for you.”

You chuckled nervously.

“He hates you too!”

“He doesn’t even know I exist,” Jaemin shrugged.

“Hey, Jaemin.”

“Like once I asked him something and he thought I was a patient and when I said that I’m actually-”

“Jaemin! I’m pretty sure I’ve just seen someone looking like you pass that door just now.”

The young man turned around quickly, right in time to see himself exit the food hall.

“Damn,” he laughed for a few moments. “Someone else copied my hairstyle. I guess I’m not that unnoticeable as I thought.”

You opened your mouth to comment on that since you were pretty sure it wasn’t only the hairstyle that the man copied when Doyoung approached your table like a storm scaring the shit out of you.

“What is it now?” he asked, eyes piercing through you.

You let out a long “uhhh” before talking, staring him up and down.

“Are you talking to me?”

Doyoung scoffed then sighed. “A doctor told me you were urgently looking for me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Who?”

“Do I look like someone who knows people’s names?”

Jaemin shook his head.

“Well, I don’t need you,” you let him know.

Doyoung sighed again and the long look you exchanged made Jaemin awkwardly chuckle once.

“You can sit down with us for lunch, sir,” he offered and you inhaled sharply, kicking his leg under the table.

Doyoung looked firstly at you then at Jaemin then at you again as if not believing he was actually talking to people like you.

But the tray in his hands was getting heavy and there were no other empty tables.

He walked around Jaemin and sat down near him.

Then he rolled his sleeves and started to eat in silence.

But only for a moment.

“What?” he asked as you were both staring at him with hanging open mouths.

“It’s our first time seeing you eat,” you whispered.

Doyoung gulped the food. “I’m putting on a show for you guys. I’m a vampire that doesn’t need food.”

“See!” you hit Jaemin’s hand as if catching his attention. “He’s making jokes!”

Jaemin leaned back in his chair as if a little afraid.

“So you talk about me instead of working,” Doyoung commented.

His eyes were on you and you suddenly realized what you’ve just said.

“No,” you quickly grabbed your glass and sipped the water.

Doyoung looked at Jaemin and the young man secretly nodded a little.

And for the first time in years, you saw Doyoung smile.

Like a full-on smile. A big open smile with all the teeth out.

You blinked fast and before realizing your own lips were stretched in a smile too.

He was breathtaking.

You wanted to run away but also crash into him. You were at the top of the world and down in the dumps.

__________

The grunt you let out after hitting a hard surface resonated in the whole hallway.

For the second time.

"You are always where you shouldn't be."

You lifted your pained eyes while massaging your shoulder just to see Doyoung do the same.

"Where am I and where am I supposed to be then?" you asked.

"Around me and you should be far away from me."

"And if I say that I'm doing it on purpose?"

Doyoung's pupils trembled.

"To make you mad," you explained, the little smile creeping on your lips making him tighten his.

“You’re trying to make me mad?”

In your head, all of the conversations you would have with Doyoung sounded fun and risky in a good way.

In reality, you realized, it was so overwhelming that you felt your limbs shake.

“I’m joking, sir.” His intense eyes made you look over the windows.

“You don’t like to look at me in the eyes?” his voice was mellifluous just as his movements, getting slowly closer to you.

“Your eyes make me uneasy,” you replied honestly.

Doyoung tilted his head to the side, curious, inviting you to say more. You looked at him again.

“As if they don’t know fear,” your voice was tiny.

A little smile curved the man’s lips. “Oh, but they know what fear is.”

“And what is that?”

“What you’re feeling right now.”

"I am not afraid," you whispered.

"Then why are you stepping back?"

“I am not stepping back.”

Yet the air got softly knocked out of your lungs as you felt the wall on your shoulder blades.

Doyoung didn't reply and just got as close as to lightly brush your lower lip with his knuckle.

"You're cute when you pout," he whispered, eyes smiley under the strands fallen from his styled fringe.

You opened your mouth to talk but he walked away, leaving you alone and with an abnormally beating heart.

Again.

__________

If Doyoung’s newly humorous side was something interesting to share with Jaemin, his newly flirtatious side was something you felt the need to keep a secret.

Heated up, you walked the corridors like a storm.

Kim Doyoung?

Did your body really react that way towards Kim Doyoung?

Pulse throbbing in places you didn’t want to think of?

Because of Kim Doyoung?

Face buried in your wet hands, the cold water running in the sink, you imagined telling this to your younger self.

Then you lifted your head and turned it off, raising your gaze to look at your dilated pupils in the bathroom mirror.

_________

Doyoung didn’t care about people much.

Hours upon hours of surgery, he only needed to see his colleagues’ hands and hear their breaths while desperately trying to save yet another life. How they looked without the caps and masks was not something of interest to him, especially knowing superfluous details like their names.

Yet, when he briefly noticed the eyes of the second surgeon entering the room, Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows.

Those were not your eyes and those were definitely not your hands in the latex gloves.

And for the first time, he needed to know who that person was.

“I’m Lee,” the man whispered.

“I didn’t know you were on schedule today.”

“Yeah, heard about it last minute as well.”

Were you avoiding him?

If Doyoung’s body could show tremor, he’d had trembling legs under the desk he sat at after the surgery, and if he’d had the habit to bite his nails, he’d be ferociously eating them by now.

Unfortunately, he was stoically sitting in his office, elbows pressed into the hard iron surface, veins missing adrenaline but aggravated eyes.

Walking the corridors while people took a step back to make him pass, looking away when he’d look at them and whispering angrily behind his back, was a bliss.

The protection shielded Doyoung like a fuzzy blanket even if it sometimes felt itchy at night when he found himself the most lonely.

So when you did the same, passing him by as if hating him, he surprised himself at the sudden discomfort. Especially after

well,

after that.

He wasn’t sure himself what it was but it must have been something if it made you uncomfortable enough to not show up to a surgery.

He lifted the corner of his blanket for a moment and he fucked up.

__________

“Y/N.”

You stopped in place.

And so did most people around you.

Many found Doyoung scary but also interesting to observe when his spite wasn’t directed at them.

What did she do? you could almost hear the whispery words passing from ear to ear, amused voices, grateful for not being in your place.

“See me in my office,” Doyoung ordered after you slowly turned around.

His voice was low and no one could have heard it if the whole yard didn’t just collectively hold its breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“You all are surely not working enough if you have time to be useless,” his voice sounded louder and clean all of a sudden. “Do you want some hours assigned?”

Like a spell, everyone looked around and the buzz filled your ears back, leaving yourself and Doyoung the only still figures.

Then he moved as well, the swoosh of his cloak touching your hand when he passed near you.

You inhaled deeply and followed him.

_________

“I am sorry.”

You wished you’d accepted his offer to sit down because that single sentence floored you.

“For what?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“I know I often say things that I don’t mean. And I know that I might have made you feel uncomfortable. So I apologize.”

His eyes were round and filled to the brim with such sincerity to make you swallow hard.

“You don’t have to apologize. It was necessary to make me who I am,” you minimized.

Doyoung looked away for a brief moment. “I mean the corridor incident.”

You blinked at him.

“I made a mistake,” he added.

The first thing that came to mind was the urge to use that to your advantage.

Scold him. Make him feel guilty.

Kim Doyoung making a mistake.

Exhilarating.

The power suddenly surging in your veins went to your head so you suppressed the smile that so desperately wanted to bloom on your lips.

“Yes.”

His expression darkened even more at your reply and his adam apple moved as he swallowed. He actually hoped it wasn’t the case.

“I’ll make sure to keep the surgery schedules separated so you won’t feel uncomfortable working with me. You could have asked me first though before changing it yourself.”

The excitement died out with these words.

“What are you talking about?”

“Thursday’s surgery.”

“I was told you appointed another person yourself.”

“I did not.”

“Well, I didn’t either.”

“So-”

“It’s not like I’m trying to avoid you, no. But if you-”

“I’m not trying to avoid you either. But you said I made you uncomfortable, so-”

“I was messing with you.”

He finally went silent.

“You looked so guilty that I wanted to get a little revenge,” your voice came out a timid whisper.

Doyoung sighed, closing his eyes a little, then he stood up.

“Did I seriously cause you that much pain all of this time?” he walked towards you as if actually concerned.

“You made me cry almost every day.”

He opened his mouth like a fish before closing it. The shocking confession made him lift one hand to cup your face.

You both looked at it with fluttering eyes as if it wasn’t his.

He tried to put it away quickly but you pressed your palm on it to keep it in place.

“I’m joking. I only cried a few times.”

Doyoung’s pupils danced around just like his brain trying to process the information you were giving him. His face, confused and not knowing anymore what was a joke and what wasn’t, amused you a lot.

“I’m sorry I’ve been harsh. I’ve been-”

“A jerk.”

He gulped, his thumb slowly brushing your cheekbone.

That little gesture made you close your eyes for a moment. And when you opened them, you just leaned in and placed a quick and chaste kiss on his closed lips.

“If the corridor thing was a mistake for you, I just did one too. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We can pretend nothing of this happened."

You let his hand go and moved to take a step back just to feel his hold on your face tighten.

Pulling you towards him again, he added the second hand.

His lips were not closed anymore, but very much open to welcome your lower lip between them.

Your hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards you too. He hummed and you whined. And when you both needed air, you let yourselves go, panting against each other’s lips.

A little smile curved your lips, eyes unable to look up. Fingers on his neck, you let them slowly descend to his chest and you took a step back.

You took your lower lip inside your mouth for a moment, as if still trying to taste him and walked a few steps back.

Doyoung followed you, unable to let your body go until you touched the door. His eyes were blown out and he kissed the corner of your mouth again, and again, and again, until kissing you fully on the lips for the second time. Hands on the glass behind your head, you heard his nails grating at it slowly as you let your tongue twirl with his. Then you breathed out and he couldn’t do anything else than just moving his arms away for you to slowly open the door and leave in silence.

After the door closed, Doyoung pressed his forehead on the cold window.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, the fuzzy blanket he carefully wrapped himself with all of those years slowly slipping away to his feet.

__________

It didn't surprise you to see Doyoung pretend nothing happened between you as you passed each other in the corridors.

But his avoidance felt weirder than usual, even to external eyes, as if something happened indeed and he tried so hard to conceal it.

"Perhaps it's the 5th coffee talking right now, but doesn't Doyoung look weird?"

Jaemin asked lazily as he rested his body on one elbow placed on the little resting room counter. Said man passed in front of the open door and the furtive look he took of you was interesting enough for someone bored like Jaemin to notice.

You shrugged, quickly stirring the sugar in your own coffee.

"Hm?" your friend smiled at your silence, getting closer.

You sipped the drink.

"Hmmm?" Jaemin put his face into yours.

"Oh my God, get away," you tried to push him away.

"You had sex."

You spat the little coffee you still had on your mouth. Jaemin giggled and took a step back before it could land on his own.

"We did not have sex! What's wrong with you?"

"Okay. So you at least kissed," he looked up to you under his wiggly eyebrows as he handed you a few napkins.

"We-," you wanted to deny but your lips formed a frustrated smile instead. "Shit. I can't believe it either."

"Wow."

"He was- so delicate," you murmured.

Jaemin winced amused.

"But also intense you know? Like it felt-"

"Okay wait. I didn't ask for a full-on description," he made a puking expression at you.

You lightly hit his arm.

"I was just so surprised. I've never seen this side of him."

"Him liking people?" Jaemin giggled. “Yeah. That’s weird.”

__________

"So it's done. We're done. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Seeing myself around is creeping me out."

Haechan sighed, rolling around in his chair. "Not so quickly. They only kissed."

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows.

"They have to confess," Jeno explained with a sleepy voice, sprawled on his own chair.

"But they love each other."

"They have to say the words."

Jaemin put his hands on the hips. "That's so stupid."

“Tell this to Doyoung. This is what he wrote in the contract,” Haechan mumbled amused, patting his chest where the Book was snuggly packed near his heart.

Jaemin grabbed another chair and sat backwards on it, resting his chin on the folded arms.

“So you know the job is done when they confess? What if they break up afterwards?”

“It has never happened before.”

“And what if it does happen?”

Jeno opened one eye. “Don’t manifest doom.”

“I’d probably have to come back and get them together again,” Haechan replied.

“I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Can’t you just recede from that contract?”

Haechan sat up properly and grabbed his water bottle. “And do what? Go back to the pits of hell?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’ve never had this much fun in a very long time.”

__________

He brought it upon himself, he could admit that.

Ignoring you was more difficult than he anticipated and the first reaction he managed to put out when you talked back to him in front of all of the other surgeons was his usual skin cutting one.

You didn’t like it, he could see it.

You’ve never liked it and, honestly, Doyoung could not think of a single person that enjoyed being on the other side of his table.

Perhaps you were getting a little comfortable with him though because you leaned back in your chair and smiled. As if for once he couldn’t get to you.

It made him even more eager to scratch that nonchalance.

So he did.

Until the meeting was over and he got back to his office with a weird sensation on his shoulders. It somehow tasted like defeat.

And when you opened his door with a loud bang and got in, he inhaled and took a few steps back, imitating the steps you took forward.

You pushed him down on the chair, your gazes mixed together just like your breaths as you leaned down.

Only the sheer anticipation of you touching him made him lose his mind a little.

One hand on his thigh and the other going down from his lips to his extended neck and chest, dragging your nail on his shirt until reaching his stomach and belt.

Then you hit one of his feet to the side with yours, making him open his legs even wider.

He jolted and you could visibly see the way his breath stopped for a moment.

"I don't think someone else tried to put you in your place before."

Your voice was dark and his eyelids fluttered before his pupils could fall on the way your palm brushed his crotch. It twitched under his dress pants and he inhaled deeply.

"Unfortunately, it has to be me."

"We're at work-," he tried to speak but the words died in his throat as you cupped his balls.

"Sorry? Didn't hear that."

"Shit Y/N-," Doyoung closed his eyes, jaw muscles tightening as you gently massaged him.

"Hmm, Doctor Kim is at a loss of words?"

You cooed, leaning down even more until almost brushing his lips with yours.

"So cold and composed while you spit venom all day. I really want to see you lose your mind for once."

He opened his eyes right when he started to pant lightly and you gulped upon seeing his dark gaze.

"You'll regret this."

"Can't wait to feel regretful."

"Be careful."

"Don't want to."

His smile grew suddenly wicked and it threw you off as he suddenly stood up, grabbing your wrists and pushing you gently backwards.

"You’ve been loving fighting with me lately. I think that you just need to get laid."

You smiled. "Do you want to help me with that?"

Doyoung scoffed once. "I can't stand you."

"Then sit down."

He put his tongue inside the cheek, staring at your raised chin.

Then his hands suddenly crept around you and grabbed your ass. They squeezed, pulling your hips towards his, making you pant and palm his chest in the meantime. Body pressing on his and his low voice buzzing into your ear made you light headed.

"Arguing with you turns me on so fucking much."

You gulped and noticed the way Doyoung’s eyes fell on your open mouth.

“This is a very pretty shade of lipstick. Makes me want to ruin it.”

His thumb opened up your shocked lips even more by tugging at the lower one, your eyes getting hazy from his expression cutting you in half.

“Suck.”

The order made your legs buckle a little. Your pupils trembled when you slowly let your tongue touch his fingertip. Doyoung got impatient and pushed it until it was all in. You fought the urge to gag and just whimpered, grabbing his shirt into your fists as he watched you hollow your cheeks on it.

“I’ve always wanted to make a mess out of you,” he murmured, his other hand cupping your face and feeling your jaw, going down to your neck and wrapping it into its warmth. You raised your face to give him more space and your hooded eyes trying to look at him as he pressed around your throat made him smirk.

“You like that?” he watched your squirming body trying to get closer to him. He took a step back and rested his hips on his desk, pulling at you until you felt his thigh between your legs.

“What a slut,” he took out his thumb and spread the saliva on it on your lips. “Bet you wanted to suck me off under the desk, didn’t you? Fuck your superior?”

You started to breathe through your mouth, the hand wrapped around your throat making it difficult for you to form any thoughts.

“Or you wanted me to bend you over it?” he murmured, eyes glazing over your breast, his free hand painting one line from your collarbones to the cleavage of it. And when he suddenly squeezed one, feeling its softness in his palm, you almost cried out and dug your fingers into his shoulders.

“Yes, sir.”

Doyoung’s corner of the lips lifted as if curiously surprised.

“And if I don’t do any of those things?” his eyes were on your face now and it made you want to hide away or just beg him to just please do all of those things.

“What are you going to do?” he asked again.

The pool of wetness inside your panties was so embarrassing that you pressed your forehead on his shoulder.

"Then just let me go," you whispered in a tiny voice.

"You're free to g-" he caressed your jaw with one thumb.

"No. I hate it," you went on, lifting your gaze on him, and he exchanged the look, slightly taken aback.

"I dream about you every night. It's not about sex, it has never been just about it. Everything about you makes me go crazy. I hate it and I want you to just let me go.”

Doyoung blinked and cupped your face with both hands.

You just breathed out, ignoring the little voice screaming inside your mind to shut up, palming the back of his hands with yours, suddenly unable to raise your eyes on him.

"I just can't understand and I hate being like this," you added after a quick gulp.

The man opened his lips and you noticed the way you started to breathe in unison.

"There's something so darkly attractive about you," the tiny sigh coming out of your lips made their way on Doyoung ones and he licked them once, his own breath warm on your skin.

"No matter how much I try to know you, there's something that escapes me. I can't pinpoint you and it keeps me up at night."

Doyoung gulped and his hands twitched as they palmed your arms, going down to your hips and pushing you down, gently.

You gasped silently, your core so swollen that the feeling of the friction of your bodies as you rubbed on him could have been enough to make you orgasm.

"Sir-," you found the force to talk but he took his tongue out and you just dove in, catching it inside your mouth and sucking on it the way you sucked on his finger. Your eagerness made his hold even tighter, guiding your body rolls, loving the way you squirmed in his arms.

When you pulled away to whine he raised one hand to bury in your hair.

"You haunt me too," he confessed. "Sometimes I feel so pulled towards you to make me question everything I know about myself."

Your eyes fluttered and your exposed throat looked so vulnerable in Doyoung's eyes to make him lean in and bite on it.

The little moans escaping your lips caressed his ears and when he licked the spots you shivered, your hips not stopping for a second.

It was intoxicating and you didn't dare to speak again but your thoughts were seeping through all of your pores.

"I want you to tell me what you want me to do," you whispered, words broken.

"Don't cum," Doyoung ordered and it snapped something in you.

Your breath grew irregular and he chuckled.

With a little groan, you forced your hips to still but he looked down and clicked his tongue, pushing his thigh upwards and making you bounce on it a few times.

"Don't stop."

"But you said-"

"Don't cum and don't stop."

"I can't last," you mewled, twitching against his body and he pouted.

"Baby girl can't keep that in?"

You shook your head, feeling all dizzy as his hands squeezed your asscheeks, making you rub against his leg again.

"But I said what I said. Are you going to be a bad girl?" he accompanied his last word with a harsh slap on your ass that made you inhale through your teeth.

"Sir- I am begging you."

His hand dropped under your skirt that moved to your thighs in a single movement, the coldness of it on your hot clit making you cry out.

He hummed amused, slowly pressing into you and circling your sensitive bud until your legs started to twitch.

"If you want to cum," he stopped, "you'll have to do whatever I say. Is this an agreement?"

You nodded quickly, so close to orgasm that you started to ride his fingers by yourself.

He retrieved his hand and pressed it on your stomach, making you step back until you barely could keep your balance.

"You know where I live, right?"

You nodded confused.

"See you later then," he smirked and gestured to leave the office.

You inhaled deeply, the arousal so high that you considered just finger fucking yourself in front of him.

"Cruel," you whispered.

"And you love it," was his amused reply.

__________

Timid feet in front of Doyoung's entrance door, you questioned if you actually lost your mind.

Were you really willing to go this far for a single orgasm?

Or multiple, you considered.

Okay. Well, perhaps it was all worth it in the end.

Your eyes darted upwards to take in the view of his house.

The windows were lit on the first floor and it looked like a place you'd love to spend your life in. It was too huge for a single person anyway.

When he opened the door after the ring announcing your arrival you didn't expect to see him in casual clothing. It looked so off that for a moment you couldn't speak, eyeing his feet in warm socks instead of rubber shoes.

Then you hit yourself in your mind. Of course, he won't wear his doctor gown at home.

"Good evening," you finally smiled and he eyed your body with a relaxed gaze, stopping when noticing the bottle of wine you carried in your hands.

“Good evening,” he gestured to you to come in and you walked the distance from the doorstep to the hallway. His hands draped your shoulders and you sighed when he took your wet coat away.

You put in a lot of effort in your appearance, choosing the right clothing and accessories.

And he put a lot of effort into arranging his house for you, lighting up the right candles, you noticed after he indicated a room to the left.

Yet all you wanted to see was him.

And all he wanted was to see was you naked.

Venturing in slowly, you turned around looking at what you figured out was the living room. With the corner of your eyes, you saw the grey of Doyoung’s sweatpants disappear upstairs and it suddenly got silent, safe for the crackle coming from the chimney and the hard rain hitting the windows. You took off your shoes and cautiously walked on the dark wine-coloured rug, close enough to warm yourself. A black glassy mirror was hung on the wall in front of you showcasing the pitiful state you were in because of the storm. Then you looked at the piles of books scattered around your feet placed down in a chaotic path leading to the velvet couches behind you as if someone read them while circling the room and suddenly let them fall on the ground when bored. You followed the spines with your gaze trying to figure out the language they were written in when two feet made their appearance in your peripheral vision, making you snap your head up.

He approached you with a little smile, getting closer and closer like a black cat.

New thick energy made it difficult for you to breathe too deeply so you resorted to short inhales and exhales especially after he stopped so close to you.

Doyoung's hands wrapped yours as he took the wine away and placed it on the coffee table on his left. Then he sighed and you found yourself shivering under his gaze.

"Take this off," he lightly felt your shirt's material with his fingertips.

What? You inhaled, mind buzzing at how easy it was this time. No dinner and fancy courtship?

He did look like someone that'd rather take you into seclusion and have you for himself as quickly as possible though.

With slightly trembling fingers that you'd never get in the surgery room, you started to unbutton your top. Doyoung tilted his head to the side with a little smirk as if enjoying the show.

And when you actually found yourself with only your bra on he smiled, even more, eyes grazing your skin slowly until you felt a heatwave shake your limbs.

“This too.”

He slowly touched the bra fabric and you gulped.

“Take it off yourself.”

Doyoung chuckled once and went around your torso, unclasping it with quick and expert fingers.

You jolted and you felt your eyelids flutter as it slowly fell down your arms.

Doyoung grabbed the front part of it and dragged it down to the floor, adding it to the weird maze of books making the eccentric design of his living room.

His eyes caressed your perked nipples and you tried hard to resist the urge to cover yourself.

“Pants,” he ordered and his voice was deeper than usual.

You wavered a moment and he lifted his eyebrows once. Do it.

You inhaled and slowly opened the zip.

He bit his lower lip when you bent down to discard the piece of clothing and when you straightened your back he hummed.

“Wear this,” he gently threw a piece of fabric towards you which you caught quickly. It was soft and it smelled like him.

He looked at it, then slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, not moving a single muscle.

You inhaled in again, trying to calm your nerves, desperately wanting to ignore the way he was dressed himself. A white and see-through shirt with the deepest neck you’ve ever seen, barely covering any of his chest. You barely could see his sweatpants as well, but his bare ankles were fully on display, just like his forearms that you could catch glimpses of as he absentmindedly revived the locks blocking his pupils with one hand.

A raw playfulness made his features even scarier in the dim lighting.

“I want you wet. But not from the rain,” he explained, eyeing your confusion.

“You could have just told me to change into it and end it there,” you mumbled, buttoning the shirt up. It was deep blue and oversized, short on your thighs but hiding whatever you had to hide.

“Why? Did you hate that I made you undress in front of me?”

“It was embarrassing to stand naked like that.”

You wanted to sound offended but the pout your lips formed on its own betrayed your secret amusement.

“Nothing that I won’t see up close soon.”

His voice was a whisper that forced you to look away. You wanted to reply but he turned around walking towards the kitchen.

"Besides, I made some spicy sauce. You don't want to spill it on your nice clothes."

“Who said I was going to spill food on myself? I have steady hands.”

You walked over him, taking the plates from his hold and placing them down on the dining table yourself.

You wanted to look unbothered by him just like he looked unbothered by you, but the truth was that you just had to do something to not feel that overwhelmed.

“You don’t,” he argued following you near the table.

You scoffed lifting your head to look at him. “Excuse you? I’m a surgeon.”

“Your hands don’t look like the hands of a surgeon when you’re around me.”

You scoffed.

“I think that the biggest thing in the world is your ego.”

“You haven't seen my-”

“Don’t say it.”

He closed his mouth as the little smile he had on kept lingering on his lips.

Domestic and flirty. It was getting to your head and you hadn’t had the opportunity to sip a single drop of alcohol yet.

As if reading your mind, he grabbed the bottle of wine you brought and fumbled slowly with the cap.

"That's my favourite shirt. And I want to fuck you in it."

The shivers that travelled down your spine almost made your body twitch and your hands stopped in mid-air as you were placing the cutlery.

He smiled at you when you looked at his expression.

His lips. His eyes and cheekbones. His skin under the lights.

Fuck. You really needed a drink.

And after he popped the bottle open with a loud sound that disrupted the silence, the red wine erupted out of it, dripping off his hand up to the wrist you had your drink right off his fingers.

Doyoung’s pupils trembled as you leaned in like a cat and his lips opened to breathe better seeing you lick the drops off his fingertips. Rested with his hips on the table, it creaked when you came forward, even more, hands pressed on his open thighs and reaching for his face. You finally caught his lips in yours and you let him taste the wine on your tongue.

It was rich and slightly sour, then it became sweet as only Doyoung’s taste remained lingering on his lips.

“Delicious,” he commented after the slow kiss. “You have good taste in wine.”

“And men.”

His expression was hidden under his long fringe but you could sense that he was smirking.

Then he raised his head a bit and had a gulp out of the bottle himself.

You had the first row to the show that his adam apple moving up and down gave you. Then your eyes naturally fell to his collarbones and bare chest, his white shirt barely covering anything.

Your fingers gently darted to his skin and you palmed it, then to his prominent collar bones, feeling the warmth of his chain around his neck.

He hummed, letting his head down to catch your hand with his lips. They kissed your fingertips then he finally dove in and let you taste his tongue again, hands quick to let the bottle go and grab your body instead.

Closer closer closer you needed him more and more.

“I need to feed you dinner first,” he grabbed your wrists as your hands tried to unbutton his shirt.

“If you won’t fuck me, I can find someone else to do it,” you whispered.

His eyes tightened and he exhaled once.

The movement was so quick that your head spun and the spank that arrived at your ass made you jolt on your toes before you could lean down on the table, fingers trying to grip the tablecloth.

“Yeah? I want to see you get fucked by someone else while my name spills out of your filthy mouth.”

His voice was raspy and it made you bite your lower lip, ass eager to push back and to rub against Doyoung's crotch. He hummed at your movements and lifted the shirt up to your waist, palming your skin and looking down at the way your ass cheeks engulfed your pretty lingerie. You strained your neck upwards at the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing your lower back, feeling the lace of your panties, then you whimpered as he grabbed the material and stretched it towards him before letting it go.

"You want this little hole all filled up, don't you?" he murmured, hand sliding between your thighs to rub on the soft and thin fabric. Your legs shifted in place at the sensation and you arched your back for more. The little 'Doyoung' making him exhale.

"And I thought you'd keep calling me sir."

You tried to turn your head towards him, wondering if his suddenly absent hand meant that he wanted you to actually call him that.

But then you saw that hand around you, reaching for the bucket of ice prepared for the wine on the table in front of you. And at that moment you realized that it was for you instead - his drink for the night.

The ice cube wetted his fingers when he took it out and he first placed it on your open lips. You sucked on it for a moment, the warmth of your skin already melting it, strands of water slowly descending on your chin and inside your cleavage.

"Say 'blue' and I'll stop," his voice was deep near your ear.

You nodded breathlessly and you shivered feeling his hand hover over your back.

And when you first felt it on your spine, your fingers independently grabbed the edge of the table. Then it went down and down, forcing goosebumps out of you.

Doyoung’s palm soothed your skin, warming it up before reaching to the front to grab at your hard nipples poking through the fabric. And when the cube reached your clothed core you mewled, lifting yourself on the tiptoes.

“Shit-shit-,” you curled your neck down, jolting under his touch, wanting more of it and running away at the same time.

Your panties were all wet and you were unsure if for the ice or your own body and when Doyoung took away the cube, giving you a break by gently pressing his own wet fingers between your lips you wished for the fabric to not be there anymore.

“More?” you whined, chest rising and falling at a crazy speed.

Doyoung snickered once, his hands grabbing your sides and turning you around.

Mind hazy, you didn’t have the time to wonder where the ice cube went, the only thought roaming your head being the need to pull him closer to you.

And you did just that, wrapping his waist with your thighs after he lifted you on the table with a thud, making all the cutlery and glasses jingle.

And you clasped your fingers into his hair while his hands roamed your naked body under his shirt.

It was when he pressed his cold, open lips on yours that you finally mewled, feeling the ice cube travel from his tongue to yours.

It got smaller and you sucked on it, giving it back, hearing him hum deeply into the kiss.

Then he broke it suddenly as if unable to control himself from kissing your neck instead, biting and sucking on your skin as hard as he did on the ice cube. You rolled it on your tongue until it became nothing, finally opening your lips to moan, feeling his cold touch on your breasts as his quick fingers unbuttoned the shirt.

The material of your panties grazed your legs at Doyoung’s rough pull. You watched them fly and land on the lamp behind him.

Then you felt his fingers finally rubbing your clit and you inhaled deeply. You were so horny that you were embarrassed to admit that just a few rubs would be able to throw you over the edge.

Doyoung saw it and from his expression, he was enjoying himself maybe too much.

“Come on love, cum for me,” he murmured on your open lips. You whined, nail digging into his shoulders and you shook your head.

“You’ve been begging me for an orgasm and now you want to be a brat about it?”

His hand worked quicker and when he inserted one of his long and slender fingers inside, you actually moaned loudly.

“Sir-” the title slipped from your shaking lips and he chuckled against your cheek, pushing another one and curling them both, pressing into you and trying to find the sweetest spots you had.

“Right here?” he whispered amused.

You start swearing, moulding his biceps under your tight grip, the table and everything on it shaking at the fast pace of Doyoung’s pumping.

And then it was too much and it overflowed.

The gasp you emitted made you fall forwards. Your arms wrapped Doyoung’s body tightly as you came in spasms, legs trying hard to meet each other around his wrist but pressing into his sides instead.

Doyoung let you whine a little bit more, hand slowing down but never stopping, fucking you through your orgasms as long as he could. Then your jaw got grabbed by his other hand and he lifted your face to meet his gaze. His eyes caressed your fucked up expression before kissing your lips.

"Good girl. I know you can give me another one."

You gripped his shoulders for dear life as Doyoung's fingers came back outside to desperately rub at your over-sensitive clit.

“Doyoung-Doyoung-” you writhed in his hold before he could slip away from your arms and fall on his knees.

You’ve gotten head before, but this time, maybe for the overstimulation or your secret feelings for that man, it felt like the first time ever.

Not knowing what to grab to steady yourself as his tongue danced in circles around your engorged clit, you buried your hands in his hair. His hands pressed into the softness of your thighs just as hard and when he raised his gaze up to look at you from underneath his messy fringe, you felt like falling.

And you almost fell when he resorted to quick short licks that drove you insane, making you cum for the second time in such a short time to make you lightheaded.

The single fuck got prolonged as much as the orgasm Doyoung gave you and when he started to kiss your inner thighs, coming up towards you, on your stomach, pressing his wet open lips on your skin until meeting your breasts, you were ready to admit that you were madly in love with him.

His kiss felt as if you were underwater, unable to breathe and understand space. You felt his arms around you and suddenly you felt weightless and he carried you around until you felt the velvet of the couches underneath you and his body pressed flushed on yours. His waist got automatically wrapped by your legs again as if that were their place and they weren’t aware of it before.

He slipped his hands on your hips, grabbing your ass hard as he murmured against your lips. “Are you going to be a brat with me again?”

His voice was calm but deep as if a storm was incoming, making your knees feel weak.

“Words,” he spoke again, pressing himself a little more between your legs.

You breathed out.

“I don’t know,” you managed to say before pushing him away. He fell to the side, grip softened mostly for the surprise than your strength.

“Are you going to be a brat to me?” you asked, straddling his lap and pressing your palms on his stomach, going up on his hot skin and lifting his shirt until he couldn’t do anything else than take it off.

Then his hands found their way on your skin too, unmercifully squeezing your soft breasts. He didn’t care to be gentle and lifting himself up he sucked on your skin so hard until it was almost painful. You wrapped your arms around his torso and threw your head back, stretching out your neck. He left bites all over it, travelling down, tightening his teeth grip around your nipples, making you pant softly.

“I don’t know,” he finally replied.

He looked at you from underneath his fringe and you smiled at each other. You caressed his stomach from below his belly button and going up until reaching his collarbones and he leaned back on his elbows to support his weight. He followed your hand going down on him then his eyes shifted their focus to watch how your pelvis started to move back and forth on his sweatpants, right on top of his hard cock.

“Mm,” he exhaled as finally getting some relief and you imitated him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and closed your eyes and Doyoung flexed his thigh muscles.

He was enjoying seeing you like that, vulnerable and whiny, needy and horny, while he did nothing to help you with it and leaving you desperate.

His eyes caressed your whole body, his lips parted slightly at the sight of your breasts bouncing softly, at how you were spreading yourself on him. You felt hot and plump, your thoughts were blurry and foggy.

"Look at you," he talked. “What a cute little slut.”

You replied with a whine, locking eyes with him but not being able to do that for a long time as his gaze pierced through you, adding to the sensation his pants gave to your raw clit.

So you kissed his lips, messily and sloppily, breathing on his mouth and he finally caressed your thighs and ass, pressing you down even more and closer to him.

Your arms got tighter around his neck and he buried his face into your chest. His hair tickled your chin and you intertwined your fingers into his locks.

So close to cum, you closed your eyes and just let yourself go, your rhythm lost, your muscles aching, without expecting Doyoung's fingers to suddenly get inside of you.

You squeezed yourself onto him with a cry.

"I repeat. Are you going to behave again as you did today?" you heard him ask as his fingers pumped fast into you.

"No, no, oh fuck, please, no," you managed to answer while gasping for air.

"I'm going to-" you whimpered about to orgasm and Doyoung at that moment got you off of him, pushing you down on your back and lifting your legs around him, edging you.

"You're going to cum when I say so," he commented. "You're lucky I'm even giving it to you at all today," he added.

You bit your lower lip frustrated.

"Babe, please-" you begged.

He smiled brightly at the sudden pet name, shushing you as he began to kiss your legs from the knees down, going lightly on the inside of your thigh, making you twitch as he approached your dripping pussy. But he passed over, nudging at it with his nose just to make you jolt and kissed your lower stomach, passing his tongue on the spots he bit before and continued until reaching your lips.

Then, getting on his knees he finally got rid of his pants and underwear.

You felt your core pulsing at the sight and breathed heavily. He tugged at your legs, dragging you until the back of your thighs touched his hips and holding himself he nudged at your entrance. You let your arms fall around your head and bit down on your hand as his tip caressed your clit.

"Doyoung," you whined as your muscles jolted intermittently. You then felt his fingers drag on your leg until grabbing your knee and putting it on his shoulders he humped your folds.

You let your head fall back into the couch, exposing your neck and making your breasts tighten.

It was too much. You just wanted him to penetrate you and to make you scream.

"I want to cum so badly, please," you begged again.

But he acted as if not being able to hear from you.

Your muscles twitched in pain and you lifted yourself to meet him. He pushed you down and distanced himself.

"Behave," he warned.

You looked at his half-closed eyes and plump lips as he bit it with his teeth.

He was suffering as well. He couldn't take it anymore, you could tell.

And when you took your hand to your mouth and licked two fingers, slowly, without breaking eye contact he gasped.

You were about to suck on them, you wanted to see him going crazy, but you didn't manage to as he penetrated you right at that moment, quick and deep, with a grunt.

"Fuck," he swore picking up the pace until the wet sounds overwhelmed the storm.

_________

It was dark. The only light came from the fireplace bathing the living room with a red and yellow hue.

You were both sprawled on the rug under fuzzy blankets.

"Come sit on my face. Show me where I belong."

Doyoung’s voice was a low buzz, imitating the storm still going on as it has been the whole night.

You rolled your eyes to the side amused, ignoring his warm hand palming your knee, nudging you to come closer.

“You still want to go? I can’t cum again,” you pouted.

“But I want you to cum,” he pouted as well.

You sighed and gently got on top of him with the intent of ignoring him and finally fall asleep.

But his expression changed when you were near enough. “I want you to be completely fucked up when I’m done with you.”

You lifted one hand to cup his cheek and kissed his nose.

He blinked at you amused.

“I love it when you smile like this,” you whispered.

The dying flames danced on his face as he stared at you for a few moments.

Then you clicked your tongue.

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t get all dark and distant.”

Doyoung exhaled. “I am not.”

“There’s so much to be proud of, don’t you think?” Your fingers gently started to draw patters on his forehead, going down on his eyes as he closed them, then on his cheeks. He opened his eyelids again after the touch and you talked again.

“Like striving to do good. Trying. Surviving.”

His lips opened to let out a small puff of warm air. Then he hugged you tighter and hid his face in the crook of your neck.

You exhaled too, closing your eyes and lulling his exhausted soul.

“I am so proud of you,” you whispered but you didn’t know if he heard you.

_________

You woke up in Doyoung's bed.

It was huge, warm and it smelled like his laundry detergent. The sheets were soft and luscious, caressing your naked body as you shifted underneath them to look to the side.

Your eyelids fluttered and your lips turned their corners up.

Fighting the urge to squeal and hide your face inside the pillow, you resorted to admire Doyoung's sleeping face.

Resting on his stomach with raised arms thrown around his head, only his eyes and ruffled hair poked out behind his bicep and shoulder. And when he slowly opened one puffy eye you giggled and it curved, showing that he was smiling too.

"Good morning," you whispered.

Doyoung sighed once first. "It's probably afternoon."

His sleepy voice made your body heat up and without thinking you just got closer. He turned on his side and wrapped your body with his arms, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Did you sleep well?" he murmured.

"Like a baby. You exhausted me enough."

The little kiss he placed on top of your head was so unexpected to make you lift your face.

He smiled.

"You inspire so much tenderness in me,” he explained timidly.

You smiled back, resting your chest on his. His hands automatically wrapped your sides as if they've always belonged there.

"I'm glad I'm softening your edges. Now you need to behave like this with everyone else too."

"You want me to kiss the whole hospital on the forehead?"

"Metaphorically."

"Also, I thought you loved my hard edges," he purred, shifting your body to fully rest on top of his.

His hard cock deliciously poked your clit with its tip as his hands slowly made you roll on it.

You exhaled and leaned down, rubbing your lips on his as you whispered. "I do."

His smirk was lazy just like your movements.

"So you want me just like this?"

“I want you. I want everything you are. I want everything that you hide.”

Your hands caressed his chest and came to cup his face. His expression wavered and you found him so vulnerable all of a sudden to make your guts twist.

“Unleash the darkness that you have inside. Engulf me with it. I am not afraid. I want it.”

Doyoung wrapped your body tightly and pressed you down on himself even more.

"There's no darkness inside of me anymore. Not when you're around me."

__________

From “I will not vanish” - Haechan’s backstory

The heavy door opened and closed.

Doyoung looked over his shoulder to see a stranger approach him with slow feet. He raised his eyes and gave Doyoung a small nod.

The other did the same and when the stranger aligned himself with Doyoung, looking over the cold city, they both exhaled.

The silence was so deep, safe for the ambulances screaming in the distance that Doyoung found himself restless.

The stranger leaned on the rail, resting his weight on the elbows and sighed again.

“You know,” he started.

Doyoung looked at him with the corner of his eyes.

“What I like about life,” he paused, “is that you can die.”

The stranger bit his lower lip for a moment then looked over to the other. His gaze felt so heavy that Doyoung’s arms skin got goosebumps.

“Imagine being immortal,” the man continued before letting out a dry snicker.

“Around forever. A pathetic being with no reason to exist besides existence itself. Forever and forever and forever. With no purpose. Until you’d beg someone to kill you but they can’t.”

Doyoung’s fingers twitched on the cold metal of the terrace rail and for a moment his rational mind wanted to ask that stranger just what nonsense he was talking about.

But lately, Doyoung and rationality didn’t match well so he didn’t.

“Immortality sucks only if you’re the only immortal one.”

The stranger smiled bitterly. “Do you want to be immortal?”

Doyoung put his hands inside the gown’s pockets. “I’d die tomorrow.”

“But you wish immortality was a thing.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have a job anymore,” Doyoung smiled. “But yes. I wish people didn’t die.”

“You’re very selfish.”

That remark made Doyoung frown. “How’s that selfish?”

The stranger turned around and rested his back on the rail instead.

“Why do you want people to not die?”

“Because-,” Doyoung started but didn’t know what to add. “Because it’s painful.”

“For them or you?”

Doyoung sighed. “Okay. I see what you’re doing here.”

The stranger smiled a little.

“It’s not like I think only of myself when others die. I think how unfair it is when I know they didn’t have the chance to do everything they wanted to do first.”

“And what’s that?”

Doyoung thought about it for a moment. “Just- living. Experiences. And most of them actually had enough time to do it. They just took it for granted. And it’s so- painful.”

“And what about you? If you said that you’d be ready to die tomorrow, I guess you’ve been living your life to the fullest with no regrets.”

“Actually, I don’t know if I’ve been living all of this time.”

The stranger shrugged. “Just start now.”

“You make it seem so easy.”

“Living? Hell yeah. You just need to give less fucks.”

Doyoung didn’t reply.

“If you’re ready to die tomorrow, then you should not be afraid of living.”

The stranger’s tone deepened and Doyoung looked his way.

“Who are you by the way?”

“Oh,” the stranger straightened his back and extended his hand. “I’m Haechan. Nice to meet you.”

Doyoung imitated him and shook his hand.

It was warm and in a moment so many thoughts came to Doyoung’s mind to make him breathless.

"I thought I had my life figured out and yet after meeting you I got shocked into awareness."

"You inspire so much tenderness in me."

“I became obsessed with you and it scares me.”

“You could have just told me. You could have told me that you fell apart. Instead, you acted like it didn't bother you at all.”

“You are worth the wait.”

“I can't let go of you.”

Doyoung took away his hand so quickly to almost fall backwards.

He took a few steps on the concrete of the terrace as if trying to get as far from Haechan as possible.

“You good?” the other asked but his face wasn’t mirroring his question.

Instead, a plain expression was adorning his feline features and for an instant, Doyoung felt terror.

“You’re not Haechan,” he found himself whispering.

The man in front of him cracked his knuckles once. “And who’s Haechan?”

“My friend.”

“Friend? Is someone that uses somebody else a friend?”

“He’s not using me.”

“Isn’t he now?”

The man started to walk towards Doyoung slowly, one finger on the rail, grating at the metal with his nail.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Doyoung?”

Doyoung flinched at his name on that man’s lips and started to retreat slowly.

“I do.”

“Soulmates are people that always find each other regardless of everything, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And are you and Y/N soulmates if Haechan is always there forcing you together like some sort of cheap mismatcher?” the man spit out the last words.

Doyoung gulped and his brain tried to remember how he punched him in some past life and actually win. His surgeon hands would definitely get broken in a second.

“Don’t you want to break this cycle? Find your true soulmate?”

“That’s Y/N.”

“Because you say so.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your orthodox theory, Archangel.”

The man stretched his neck to the side and Doyoung didn't have the time to run away.

#doyoung #doyoung smut #neosmutcollective #nct-writers #nct smut #doyoung angst #nct angst #nct fanfiction #doyoung fanfiction #nct doyoung #doyoung scenarios #nct scenarios #soulmates collection #doyoung doctor au #nct doctor au

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mylifeasaserver · 3 years ago

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Quitting your job: A guide

This job market is the ideal time for you, the employee, to negotiate for better wages/benefits/etc. If you’re happy where you are, great! If not...explore. For those just entering the job market here are some signs you should move on.

1. They don’t let you use the benefits promised when you signed on. Many places - even retail and restaurants - offer things like paid time off, flexible scheduling, etc. If you can never use them, what good are they? If every time you request a day off it’s declined, what’s the point of it? You need time off, if for no other reason than naps don’t take themselves. If the schedule is only flexible for the business, fuck that noise. It isn’t your problem if they’re perpetually short-staffed, or any other stupid thing they deny your time for. Caveat: If you’re always requesting time off on short notice, you need to plan better.

2. Bad management I don’t know why, but a lot of places have gotten stupidly thrilled to torment employees with stupid rules and whatnot. If you’re catching hell for stupid shit (like not answering your phone at 2am when you don’t work until 2PM the next day) your managers are shit and it’s time to look elsewhere. Caveat: If you’re not doing your damn job because you’re playing grabass with coworkers of fucking about on your phone instead of getting shit done, you’re the problem. Idiotic policies coming from a corporate office are part of bad management. Even if your direct supervisor thinks they’re fucking stupid there’s nothing they can do about it.

3. No raises. If you show up and do your job and after a reasonable amount of time ask for a raise and get some dipshit answer like “It’s not in the budget” and then in the next breath you hear some dumb shit like “the company has never been so profitable!” it’s time to seek a new employer. Especially if new hires are making the same or more.

4. Job expansion Job duties are usually pretty clearly laid out. My job is to fill prescriptions, answer phones, and run a register among other things. If they start heaping on new responsibilities, they need to heap some new pay to go with it. Don’t get me wrong here, sometimes they’ll need you to do some extra because people called out or whatever, but as soon as it’s evident that the job responsibilities have greatly expanded permanently - like they expect you to do the work of 2 people or take on management responsibilities - then if the pay doesn’t match it...time to move on.

5. Abuse This ties in a bit to #2, but in public service jobs especially abusive customers are not only tolerated but accepted as normal. They should not be. Major retailers can afford to tell some grumpy abusive asshole to eat shit and get out. Do they? No. They do the corporate penis gobble of apology and give a gift card out to apologize that the employee they were berating walked off to compose themselves instead of comping the blurry coupon that won’t scan (I promise I’ll write about this one eventually.) Managers and other employees are guilty of this shit as well and there are laws to prevent it. Don’t tolerate it. If the job is worth fighting over you can report it and see what happens. If not, find another job and fuck off out of this one.

6. No promotions This is a big one for me. If you’re forever getting passed up for a promotion, ask why. If the answer is stupid bordering on insane, such as “We need you where you are! You do such a great job we could never move you!” then they need to lose you. If the answer is something more reasonable that you can work on, then work towards it.

7. Pay cuts I was threatened with a pay cut if I didn’t finish the training that the pharmacy couldn’t spare the time to let me do. I immediately turned in my notice. My regional manager thought I was bluffing. I was not. Jobs that pay what I’m getting here are a dime a dozen. Hell, I could go back to serving and immediately make more. My message here is clear: never put up with pay cuts. Tell them to eat shit and find a new job. Probably smarter to find a new job and then tell them to eat shit versus my way of telling them to eat shit first, but you do you.

Some things I’ve seen dipshit journos write about that are plain stupid:

YES, it is ethical to get an offer at a different job and let your current job know about it/give them the opportunity to match/beat the offer. They don’t have to employ you, you don’t have to work there. If you’re that valuable, they’ll show it. With money and benefits.

NO, you don’t have to give a 2 week’s notice. YES, they can add you to a no rehire list after you don’t. Again, you don’t have to work there and they don’t have to employ you.

NO, your job is not your FaMiLy. That’s the dumbest fucking thing. I have a family. Not one person at work is my family. Fuck off with this noise. Employers do this shit so you’ll feel bad about calling off because you don’t want to make life hard for your FaMiLy do you? Fuck all the way off with the family nonsense. The employers who use that shit tend to be the worst most abusive asshats in existence. Yes, it annoys me.

That’s it for now. Please report any political ads regardless of party as offensive. Thank you. -J

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contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago

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Following the Thread Transcript

AKA all the "canon" there is of Aiden. Google doc to save for easy reference is here. Providing this is entirely selfish of me, please use it and write some lambden <3

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

GERALT approaches a GUARD standing outside of a door.

GUARD: Don’t like folk wandering around here.

GERALT: Oh yeah? Well, got a beast you need someone to get rid of? I’m here about the notice.

GUARD: Ah, supervisor Lund posted it. Yeah, a beast haunts the outskirts, murdering folk. Got ‘em scared to leave their homes after dark.

GERALT: I’d like to talk to this supervisor.

GUARD: Too bad he don’t receive petitioners.

GERALT: So what’s he do, exactly?

GUARD: Delivery relief on behalf of the city council—flour and groats for the paupers. Meaning, he don’t do it personally. He’s got men for that. He, himself, he, uh. (GESTURES BROADLY)

GERALT: Supervises.

GUARD: Exactly!

GERALT: I aim to hunt down this monster.

GUARD: Best hurry, then. Some other bloke’s already after it.

GERALT: Who took the contract?

GUARD: Didn’t see the man. Was just told some brave fool’d turned up.

GERALT: When’d you find the last victim?

GUARD: Just last night. Hubert, a beggar, but a decent man. I’d let him sleep in the shed from time to time—that one, on the right. Eustace hasn’t come for the corpse yet. It’s lying in there, where I found it.

GERALT: Any eyewitnesses to these attacks?

GUARD: No, just the bodies. Beast appears only at night, chooses isolated victims.

GERALT: Thanks. So long.

Geralt goes to the shed and examines it, finding a puddle of blood that’s not human, and Hubert’s body, which is drained of blood. There’s ekimmara tracks in the shed that Geralt follows along the river’s edge, until they disappear at a dock. Geralt swims across the river and finds the tracks again, leading him to another building. Geralt notes that’s there’s rat corpses outside that have been drained of blood.

INT. DARK HOUSE

There’s the sounds of combat upstairs, blade clashing, an ekimmara screeching, and a whoosh from aard. Geralt rushes up the stairs to see LAMBERT fighting the monster. They kill it together.

GERALT: Greetings, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Damn, it’s good to see you, Wolf.

GERALT: Decide to do some hunting in Novigrad? Far as I remember, you never liked this city.

LAMBERT: Still don’t. Thing is, got a certain matter to take care of.

GERALT: What have you been up to? Any luck on the path?

LAMBERT: A lot, in fact. Quite the takings in Lan Exeter. Was asked to hunt down a giant, who turned out to be a forest troll and some bandits.

GERALT: Bandits?

LAMBERT: (SHRUGS) Came as a package with the troll.

GERALT: The matter you mentioned, anything I can help with?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Maybe. But we’ll talk about that later. Got our reward to collect. I’m kinda in a hurry. Let’s say you’ve earned half, what the hell.

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt and Lambert approach the guard from earlier.

GUARD: So?

LAMBERT: What do you think? We did what we had to do. Time to pay up.

GUARD: Wait here, I’ll go see the supervisor, get your reward.

LAMBERT: Do that ourselves. No reason you should leave your post.

Geralt gives Lambert a sideways glance.

GUARD: Hmm, can’t argue with that logic. Go on in.

EXT SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING, COURTYARD

Lambert and Geralt approach SUPERVISOR LUND in an outdoor space. There’s three guards milling around.

LAMBERT: We dealt with the monster at the docks. Here for our reward.

LUND: Witchers? Since when do you travel in pairs?

LAMBERT: Lots of dangers for a lone witcher. Bandits, for example.

LUND: I’d advise you to change your tone.

LAMBERT: Where’s Jad Karadin? Talk!

GERALT: Who?

LAMBERT: Trust me, Geralt. This is important. There’s something I gotta know.

LUND: I do not know any Karadin. Take your coin for the before and bugger off before I lose my temper!

LAMBERT: (YELLING) Where’s Jad Karadin? Asking you for the last time!

LUND: Guards, to the dungeon with them!

Lund runs out of the courtyard, and Lambert chases after him, leaving Geralt to fight the three guards.

INT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt walks inside to find Lund cowering from Lambert.

LAMBERT: This guy’s more trouble than the ekimmara.

LUND: Karadin’s disappeared. I swear! The others, too! I only know of Vienne.

LAMBERT: What about Vienne?

LUND: She drinks at the Seven Cats. There day and night.

LAMBERT: See? You can be helpful.

Lambert unsheathes his sword and stabs Lund in the gut while Geralt watches. Lund collapses to the floor. Lambert turns to look at Geralt in challenge.

GERALT: That was murder. Was that really necessary?

LAMBERT: Yes.

Geralt shakes his head.

LAMBERT (cont.): More guardsmen’ll show soon. Let’s go. Meet me at the Seven Cats. Tell you everything there.

GERALT: The tavern Vienne frequents?

LAMBERT: Yeah. See you later.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN

Lambert is leaning against a rock when Geralt approaches him.

GERALT: All right. High time you explained some things. Why’d you kill Lund? What’s this all about?

LAMBERT: Want the short version or the long one?

GERALT: Lemme hear the whole thing.

LAMBERT: Had a friend. Aiden was his name.

GERALT: You? Had a friend?

LAMBERT: Oh, hi-fuckin’-larious. I met him soon after I'd accepted a contract to lift the curse from the Ogre of Ellander. Aiden had been hired to kill it. He was a witcher from the school of the cat.

GERALT: Far as I remember, the ogre was killed in the end.

LAMBERT: Yeah, after it gutted my employer, we really didn’t have a choice. I cut a deal with Aiden. We joined forces, split the reward for killing the ogre between us. After that, we worked together a lot. Hands down the best man I’d ever met. I mean, I like you, you know that. Still, no comparison.

GERALT: What happened to him?

LAMBERT: Some time ago, Aiden took on a contract to lift a curse off a duke’s daughter. It was a political mess from the start. Then there was the hatred for the school of the cat to deal with.

GERALT: They worked hard to deserve that hate. Basically hired assassins.

LAMBERT: (SNAPS) Aiden wasn’t like that. (PAUSES, LOOKS AWAY) Anyway, some of the duke’s courtier’s had designs. Weren’t all keen on the curse being lifted from the duke’s first born. So, a band of trained assassins ambushed Aiden, murdered him. Our dear supervisor was one of them.

GERALT: And Jad Karadin?

LAMBERT: The assassins’ leader. And the one to deal the mortal blow.

GERALT: Sorry about your friend.

LAMBERT: Don’t need your sympathy, just your help. (PUSHES OFF ROCK HE WAS LEANING ON TO STRAIGHTEN) We have to talk to Vienne. Must’ve had enough to drink by now. Let’s go.

INT. SEVEN CATS INN

Geralt and Lambert approach VIENNE, a lithe elvish woman wearing a deep cut purple blouse with her dark hair in a braid. She has a drinking glass in front of her where she sits alone at a table.

GERALT: Vienne?

VIENNE: What do you want?

LAMBERT: We wanna see Jad Karadin.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) Now why would I help you?

GERALT: It’s really important to my friend here.

VIENNE: And what will I get out of it?

LAMBERT: Pay for your beer, for starters. Then we’ll see how valuable your information is.

VIENNE: (CONSIDERS, TAKES DRINK) I was part of Karadin’s band, but… When was that? I don’t know where to find him; I’ve fallen out with the lot.

Geralt sits at her table.

VIENNE (cont.): Besides, he’s no longer chummy with his old mates. Word around town is he’s changed.

Lambert sits down, also, now.

GERALT: Karadin’s changed? What do you mean?

VIENNE: He’s dropped all his old connections, stopped taking on petty killings. He’s hidden himself away in some hole. Must be planning something big.

GERALT: Who else was in Karadin’s band?

VIENNE: Aside from me? Selyse, Hammond, and Lund. But they’ve scattered all over the world. Selyse went to Tretogor, Hammond to Skellige, and Lund—

LAMBERT: Lund’s dead.

VIENNE: (CACKLES) Finally met his match. Well, you’ve only Hammond or Selyse to talk to, then.

GERALT: What about you? What’s your story?

VIENNE: Scoia'tael was decimated, so I joined Karadin. They never treated me as an equal. No. I could hit a sparrow from a hundred paces, but I was never good enough for Karadin. He always preferred that cunt Selyse…

LAMBERT: You have a hand in the murder of the witcher Aiden?

VIENNE: Perhaps. I don’t remember.

GERALT: We need information about Hammond.

VIENNE: Karadin’s right hand man, once. When the band broke up, he went back to Faroe whence he had come. He’s a pirate, now. Even the jarls treat him with respect.

GERALT: This Selyse, where can we find her?

VIENNE: She’s done well for herself. Runs a brothel in tretogor, the kind rich men frequent. Whores suck information out of them, then she sells it.

LAMBERT: Name of this brothel?

VIENNE: The Black Lily. Selyse always did have horrible taste.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) Satisfied?

Geralt and Lambert both stand.

LAMBERT: She doesn’t know anything. We need to talk to Hammond and Selyse.

VIENNE: Don’t go looking for Karadin. If he senses you nipping at his heels, he’ll kill you without batting an eye.

LAMBERT: We’ll see. As for you…

OPTION ONE

GERALT: No, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Right, better to leave her like this.

VIENNE: What about my coin?

Geralt and Lambert exit the inn.

VIENNE (cont.): Arseholes.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Do whatever you think is right, Lambert. Not here to preach morals.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) “Do what you think is right?” Only one thing worse than cold blooded murder—hypocrisy. Informers, racists, snitches!

VAREN: Vienne, bloody hell. What is it?

VIENNE: They’ve come for me, Varen! I told you someone would, sooner or later!

VAREN: (IN ELDER) Don’t be afraid.

GERALT: Shit.

A fight breaks out in the inn and ends with Vienne dead.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN—NIGHT

LAMBERT: You’ve gotta help me, Geralt. Best thing will be to split up. You sail to Skellige, try to squeeze something out of Hammond. I’ll go to Tretegor and try to get something out of Selyse.

GERALT: Lambert, let’s talk about this.

LAMBERT: Let’s not. This is one of those situations, serious situations, where you don’t ask unnecessary questions and just help your friend.

GERALT: Where’ll we meet once I’m back?

LAMBERT: At the Nowhere Inn.

GERALT: All right, I’m off. Good luck.

They both nod to each other, and the scene fades to black as Lambert walks away.

EXT. PIRATE’S SETTLEMENT, SKELLIGE

Geralt approaches two men standing guard outside of the settlement he’d been pointed to in order to find Hammond.

GUARD: Whaddya want?

GERALT: I’m looking for Hammond.

GUARD: What for?

GERALT: Business.

GUARD: He prays at the chapel on the hill this time of day. If it’s slaves you’re looking to buy, you’ll have to wait ‘til he’s done.

GERALT: He’s praying? Wouldn’t have thought him a god fearing man.

GUARD: Hmm. Yet it’s not something that would surprise any man who knows him.

GUARD TWO: Another snoop! You know the drill!

A fight breaks out with all of the pirates. After Geralt defeats them, he travels across the island.

EXT. HAMMOND’S SHRINE

Geralt walks into the shrine, and it’s an outdoor space with wide, curved beams driven into the ground that create a circle. Hammond is in the middle of the area in front of a pile of weaponry and shields. Hammond is shirtless and wearing a green tartan kilt with a wide leather belt. His hair is in a ponytail, and a leather strap encircles his left bicep. There’s a brown arm guard on the same arm, and there’s a gold band wrapped around his right bicep. There’s a large war hammer strapped to his back.

HAMMOND: Gods of the sea, I’ve never begrudge ye no gifts. Grant me another victory, so I can make an offering of me loot. (STANDS AND NOTICES GERALT) Fuck, what now?

GERALT: Heard you were in Karadin’s band.

HAMMOND: Fuckin’ say what you want. C’mon, spit it out, you arse lickin’ bastard!

GERALT: I’m looking for Jad Karadin.

HAMMOND: And just who the hell’re you?

GERALT: A friend of a friend. I’m looking for Karasin, thought maybe we could make some sort of deal.

HAMMOND: What, our business rubbing some Novigrad pricks the wrong way? Ploughin’ guild! (TO HIS GUARDS) Come on, what are you waiting for? Kill the fucker!

A fight breaks out and Geralt kills Hammond and his three guards. After, Geralt searches Hammond’s body and retrieves a letter on elegant stationary.

Hammond,

Thought I made it clear during our last face to face talk. I don’t want to keep in touch and I especially don’t want to do any business with you. I’ve no doubt the enterprise you proposed would be profitable. Nevertheless, to speak colloquially, count me out.

There are plenty of other potential buyers in Novigrad: goldsmiths, jewelers, and merchants dealing in luxury goods, for starters.

I don’t want to get involved.

Whatever you decide, I will wish you well in it. Treat this letter as our final farewell.

Karadin

INT. NOWHERE INN

Geralt approaches Lambert. Lambert is sitting at a table scattered with gwent cards and with a tankard in front of him.

LAMBERT: What the hell took you?

GERALT: Pretty likely Karadin lives in Novigrad. And he never severed ties with Hammond. They’re actually in business together.

LAMBERT: Mm. Learned something, too. He trades in, uh, live goods on the sly. Owns a ship called the Pearl of the Coast. Runs between here and Skellige. Changed his name, too, to Roland Treugger, who officially is a respected Novigrad trader and philanthropist. Has a residence in Gildorf.

GERALT: Anything on Selyse?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Well, didn’t have you there to stand up for her.

GERALT: All right, let’s pay Karadin a visit.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

Lambert and Geralt stand in a stone alleyway, looking at several guards.

LAMBERT: Think I know how to get in. Got a plan.

GERALT: If your plan doesn’t include dealing with an escort of guardsmen, best revise it.

The guards approach Lambert and Geralt.

GERALT (cont.): Calm, now. Let them start it.

GUARD: You’re expected. Come in.

Lambert and Geralt share a glance, and the scene fades to black.

EXT. KARADIN’S BACKYARD

There’s a child in a blue smock, who points at Lambert and Geralt and runs to Karadin. Karadin has yellow slitted eyes, dressed nicely, and there’s a sword at his hip.

KARADIN: Make yourselves at home.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) He’s a witcher.

KARADIN: Very true. Let me introduce my wife, Laetitia, and my two little tots. (GESTURES TO A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN SITTING IN THE GRASS) You know who I am, and I’ve heard of you. You’ve been asking questions about me. That always draws my attention.

GERALT: What school’d you come out of?

KARADIN: That of the cat. So few of us left.

Lambert sneers.

GERALT: Witchers can’t have children.

KARADIN: But they can have wards. Or take in a woman along with her children, embrace them as their own.

GERALT: I could understand a witcher becoming a hired assassin, but a merchant?

KARADIN: Why ever not? Not one among us doesn’t dream of changing our life. I simply did not stop at dreaming. They say no witcher has ever died in his bed. I aim to be the first.

LAMBERT: Remains to be seen.

GERALT: My friend needs to talk to you.

KARADIN: (TO GUARDS) Lads, take the children and Laetitia and leave us. Our guests wish to speak with me.

His family leaves.

KARADIN (cont.): I’m all ears.

LAMBERT: Talk to him, Geralt. If I do, first word he says to me, I’ll lose it and throttle the fucker.

GERALT: Nice place you got.

KARADIN: As it turned out, I’ve a flair for enterprise. Now I’ve coin enough to provide my family with the finer things in life.

LAMBERT: With some left over for philanthropy.

KARADIN: Miss Marabella’s institute does not scorn small donations. Neither does the city's Widow and Orphan Relief Fund, amongst others.

GERALT: Your wife know who you were?

KARADIN: We are thoroughly honest with each other, harbor no secrets. She prays for me each day. You know what? I think it’s working.

LAMBERT: Fucking hell.

GERALT: Relax, Lambert.

KARADIN: I confessed all just before we pledged to marry one another. Began a new life that day, with a clean slate.

GERALT: Remember Aiden? A witcher. Murdered in Ellander. Guessing the killers were paid well.

KARADIN: I remember him as I remember all the others—with the deepest regret. Yet Aiden was different, in a way. Contrary to rumor, we did not set out to kill him. We were forcced to, when he attacked us.

GERALT: What’s your version of this story?

KARADIN: Aiden had accepted a contract to lift a curse from the duke’s daughter. He took the coin, bungled the job, then left once the girl passed on.

LAMBERT: You lie!

KARADIN: We were not to kill him. We were debt collectors. He’d spent the coin already, so we demanded his swords. When he refused, tempers flared. Vienne, positioned as sniper, lost her nerve, hit Aiden square in the eye.

Lambert looks down. Geralt glances over at him.

KARADIN (cont.): Later, she devised her own version of the story. To silence her guilt, I expect.

GERALT: I’ve heard enough.

KARADIN: What now?

OPTION ONE

GERALT: You’ve changed. You have.

KARADIN: Forgiveness. It’s my sole aim now.

LAMBERT: You’re buying this bullshit? Bastard’s lying his ass off!

OPTION TWO

GERALT: You know what, Karadin? Your remorse—it’s feigned. Completely dishonest. You put on a good show, but I just don’t believe you.

LAMBERT: Don’t even know why we bothered with this chat. We came here to kill you.

OPTION THREE

GERALT: Maybe you’ve changed, maybe not. To me and Lambert, it doesn’t matter.

LAMBERT: You killed Aiden. Fuck your new life. I don’t believe in giving second chances.

OPTION ONE

GERALT: Do what you want, Lambert. Your friend, your vengeance.

LAMBERT: Been waiting a long time for this.

KARADIN: (UNSHEATHES SWORD) And I don’t aim to die.

A fight breaks out, ending in Karadin dead.

LAMBERT: Thanks for your help, Geralt.

GERALT: You’re welcome.

LAMBERT: Wanna talk about it?

GERALT: No.

LAMBERT: See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Leave him. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: What? Are you fuckin’ nuts?

GERALT: Lambert, this is one of those situations where you have to realize you’re pissed as hell, rein it in, and trust your cool headed friend. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Don’t know that I’ll be able to forgive you.

GERALT: I said let’s go. You can always come back.

Lambert storms off.

KARADIN: Thank you.

Geralt sighs and walks away.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

LAMBERT: Explain yourself.

GERALT: Don’t intend to. Just felt Karadin didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. If you feel otherwise, you can always go back. Without me.

LAMBERT: I feel like beating the shit out of you. See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

#the witcher #the witcher 3 #aiden #lambert #lambden #following the thread #reference #contemplative writing

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nothing-but-dreamy · 4 years ago

Text

AFTERLIFE ~ Part 1

A/N: It's a two part story. It was a bit too long for a one-shot and too short for a series... so, it's something in between. Have fun, nonetheless

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Words: 3165

Warnings: none

Summary: You are 'Amanda'. A personalized interface who works with Connor. You prepare him for his mission, listen to his mission report and you give him new orders.

There's just one thing: you're human.

Connor doesn't know that. For him, you're the person he meets in the zen garden. Even as a machine, he becomes fond of you. Connor wants to please you with fulfilling his mission. And he is successful.

The only thing CyberLife hasn’t considered in their plans was for you to act as the human you were - after everything Connor had to endure, you realize that Connor might be more than just a machine. His deactivation was the last thing you wanted. Maybe both of you have to break free.

The small boat slid through the calm water as it got more push by using the oars. You looked at the android in front of you who sat with you in the boat. There was a small change in him but the system was good at controlling it. No matter what it was, Connor stayed unaffected by it. Even if there was so much going on in Detroit, Connor stayed focused on his mission. His orders were clear. There was no room for any doubts if he wanted to stop the deviants how CyberLife wanted it. How you demanded it from him.

“If your investigation doesn’t make progress soon, I may have to replace you, Connor.”, you said serious. Connor’s reaction was under your close monitoring. The android blinked and processed the new information before he looked into your eyes. Something was blazing in them but before you could say what it was, it was gone. His system worked perfectly.

“I’m of no importance. The mission is all that matters.”, Connor said calmly.

Hell, how you hated it when Connor was this … machine-like. Of course, that was what he was on the paper: a machine. An android designed to accomplish a certain task. But for you he started to become more… “Why do I have to threaten him?”, you asked Jim, your supervisor, as you left the port which was your connection to the zen garden. You had left the station the moment as Connor went back to his mission.

“Otherwise, it wouldn’t understand how important this mission is.”, Jim said matter of factly and reminded you that Connor was still an android, built by CyberLife. He was their property.

“Connor knows it and does his best!”, you argued.

Jim smirked viciously while he stepped closer to you. “You humanize it. Maybe you’re not the right choice to be its interface after all. Maybe we should replace you, yn.”

“What? No!”, you said erratically.

“Then make sure that the RK800 will be successful.”, Jim demanded and turned around to leave you alone.

***

Connor had been successful no matter what your personal thoughts had been about the whole mission and its outcome. You checked some of the recordings Connor had made to know what was going on in the real world while you were in your safe office. The worst thing for you to witness was the suicide of Hank. Connor had visited his former partner to say goodbye because he was successful in finding Jericho. Next, he would search and stop the deviant leader and after that, he would go back to CyberLife to receive the next orders. Connor stood on the pavement and his system listed an extreme reaction as he heard the shot back in Hank’s house. Even the dog was whining. You winced as you watched this record. All of this wasn’t right. You also felt responsible for the man’s death...and for everything else that went wrong the last few days.

“Yn.”, Jim said and made you jump by surprise.

You turned off the display while your heart was racing against your ribcage. “Hell, Jim! That wasn’t necessary. Wait- what’s that?”, you asked as you noticed the android standing next to Jim.

Jim looked from you at the android with a proud expression like a father would watch his son. “This is the new RK900 or… Colden, what its name will be. I think the name perfectly suits its mindstrong manner. Don’t you think?”

“RK900? You… you’re going to replace Connor.”, you said low, slowly understanding what was going on.

“That’s correct.”, Jim confirmed your assumption and sounded like an android by himself.

“But Connor, it … he did everything we demanded! He was successful with his mission!”, you pointed out. Frustration was rushing through you as you realized what that meant: no matter what Connor did it wouldn’t save him from deactivation. There would be no reward after Connor was done.

“That’s true. The RK800 was the biggest success like no other model before. That’s why we built Colden. It’s based on the RK800 model but the RK900 is more resilient, more advanced and equipped with more features than the old model.”, Jim sounded like a salesman for his own product.

“But Connor, he… ”, you said meekly. The anger in your body made you speechless.

“The RK800 will be replaced by this new model and you will tell Connor our decision. You’re its interface. It’s your job.”, Jim said and left you alone with the RK900 who watched you emotionless. You walked over to it. It looked like Connor and yet, it was the complete opposite to the android you liked so much. The RK900 was slightly taller, had piercing blue eyes, darker hair and looked all in all very intimidating while Connor looked so soft and nice with his warm brown eyes and smooth hair. The RK900 stared at you unfazed while you examined it. Never in this life you would be able to build a connection to this android like you did with Connor. Something came up into your mind. You had to make a decision.

***

Connor watched you caring for the beautiful roses you had gardened whenever he met you. They were beautiful flowers and he had to admit that they were the only appropriate flower that could keep up with your own beauty. You looked delicate and strong at the same time. Your eyes were the most beautiful color he had ever seen and your lips … they had the same deep red color like the velvet patels of the rose in your hand.

For him, it was everything to meet you because in the end, you were the one he wanted to please. During this mission, there were a few things that went wrong and Connor was sure that he had seen disappointment in your eyes. That was the worst for Connor: to know that you weren’t happy with him and his progress. But now, where he had stopped the deviants and had eliminated every single threat, you had to be proud of him. Everything he had done was for you and he was more than just successful as he had accomplished his mission.

“Connor, I‘m so glad to see you.”, you said with a soft smile as you turned around to face the android. You felt sick and the only thing you wanted was to scream because of the big lies you had told him all the time. Connor watched you with his calm brown eyes. There was even a small, lovely smile on his lips which made it even worse when you thought about what would come next. “I have a surprise for you.”, you announced with sweating hands and an erratic heartbeat while you acted as if everything was perfect.

Connor watched you patiently and curious. He never had expected to get a reward. After all, he was still a machine who had just fulfilled his orders.

“This is the new RK900. It’s stronger, faster and more resilient.”, you said with your shaking hand placed on the back of the other android.

Connor tilted his head as he tried to understand what that meant. “What is going to happen to me?”, he asked.

You heard the tone in his voice. There was surprise and something else. He understood what the RK900 meant but he couldn’t grasp it. You walked slowly over to Connor who watched you curiously. You hoped he would break free, that he would finally realize what all this meant, that he would make a decision to say no to CyberLife and their cruel game but no, he just stood there and waited for your verdict.

“You’ve become obsolete. You’ll be deactivated. You can go now.”, you said softly and as calm as possible. That was so wrong and you hated yourself for every single word you said. Connor was the last who deserved any of this. Not after everything.

Without another word, Connor looked at you one last time before he turned around to leave the zen garden. There was something in his system that was new…

software instability^

The alert popped up but he couldn’t understand the cause of it or its meaning. If Connor would be a deviant or human he would have understood that it was betrayal he felt but as a machine, he had no idea what the alert wanted to tell him.

"Connor wait!", you called out.

Connor stopped and turned around. He watched you coming closer. Worry was written on your face and he asked himself what might be the reason.

You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. You released your breath, annoyed about yourself. It was a nightmare. All of it. “Y-you- hell, it's nothing.", you said defeated. You couldn’t say what you wanted because CyberLife recorded the zen garden. Whatever you would do would go straight to your supervisor.

Connor couldn’t understand what made you so...nervous but as you stayed silent, there was nothing else he could do than just to leave.

The RK900 watched after Connor. It noticed the troubles in Connor’s system. It noticed the software instability. The RK900 observed its previous model how it walked away to get deactivated. But it couldn’t totally understand why the RK800 seemed to be troubled. As an emotionless machine, deactivation wasn’t the same as dying like humans did.

You walked back frustrated. Your eyes fell on the RK900 who looked after Connor. You saw its ice cold glance glued at its ‘brother’. “And now, what? I’m sure CyberLife expects me to become your interface as well, huh?”, you asked rhetorically. You were sure the RK900 wasn’t understanding what you were talking about or that it could process properly what was going on. Sure, it was able to process the information but it was something else to understand all the meanings behind it. As the RK900 looked at you, you made a decision that was long overdue. Maybe, Connor wasn’t just the only one who had to break free.

***

As you left the port to the zen garden, you closed the program as usual. You ended all systems and turned off the lights. After you collected all your stuff and your purse, you waved goodbye to your colleagues. But instead of going left you decided to go right. Left down the hallway was the elevator that would bring you to your car. But the right way brought you to the destination you had to visit. It was friday and so, most of your colleagues were gone. But nevertheless, you were carefully sneaking through the hallway. At the end of it, there was the room you had searched for.

Androids could enter the zen garden no matter where they were but there was also a port-like room inside of CyberLife where the androids could pause while they were entering the zen garden. In Connor’s case, he stayed in this room even now because he would get deactivated. So, there was no reason for him to leave the room until someone would get him.

You slipped through the door. The room was huge but not equipped with any kind of furniture. There was no need to make it comfortable for androids. Now, where you had made your decision it was repulsive to be in this room with the knowledge what some of the androids in this room were going to face soon. Like Connor.

Your eyes fell on the android with the grey jacket who stood in a corner with closed eyes. He was in standby mode, just waiting patiently. “Connor! Connor, wake up!”, you whispered urgently while you shook his shoulder. The light of the blue LED increased its speed, the sign that the system woke up.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at you, his eyebrows raised questioningly. “Yn? What’s the matter? Why are you here?”, he asked. Connor never had met you outside of the zen garden and now, he was confused to see you in front of him in this sterile, white room. For him, you belonged into the beautiful garden.

“We have not much time. You have to come with me.”, you whispered, grabbing his arm to pull him after you but you stumbled back as Connor stayed motionless on the spot. “Connor, please.”, you begged.

“Why? What is going on?”, he asked confused. His face frozen in a puzzled expression.

“What is going on?! Connor, you’re going to be deactivated! We have to get you out of here!”, you said urgently. A movement on the hallway caught your attention but it was just someone walking by. It was just a matter of time until someone would enter this room. You turned back to Connor who still watched you. Since when was this android so hard of understanding? “Listen, Connor, I know I said you would be obsolete but I … I had to say that, okay? But I don’t want you to be deactivated.”

“Why not?”, Connor asked confused and tilted his head to the side.

You groaned. It was frustrating. Connor was adorable and driving you crazy at the same time. “Because I like you, okay? You’re not just some android. That CyberLife wants to destroy you isn’t fair after everything you had done for them.”

“But I hadn’t done it for them. I did it for you, yn. You gave me the orders.”, Connor said matter of factly.

You closed your eyes to calm your nerves but then, you had an idea. “That’s right! You did it for me. And now, I ask you to do something else for me, Connor. Now, you have to come with me.” Much to your relief, Connor followed your ‘order’. Yes, you had to trick him but in the end, if it would be the only way he would follow you, then you would use all the tricks you could find to get him out of this building. In the end, to get Connor following you was the easy part of your plan. To get Connor through the building and into your car was the thing that worried you the most.

Connor noticed your nervousness. Your heart rate increased and you started to gnaw on your lower lip, something you never had done before in front of him. “You’re nervous, yn.”, he stated as you stopped at a corner to look down the next hallway which led to the elevator.

You turned around, “Of course, I’m nervous! We have to get out of here unseen. Otherwise, I’m not sure if I can get you free. Please, Connor, can you work with me here? It would be easier if you start to feel something!”

“To feel? What shall I feel? I’m a machine.”, Connor argued.

You bit down on your lower lip. Now, it was biting you back that you had trained him so well to be a machine. “Then stop being a machine, god damnit! I know you can turn-”, you stopped as someone walked into your direction. You grabbed Connor’s hand to pull him after you into an empty office. The lights were out and the workers were gone already. You closed the door at the same moment the person passed you. With a racing heart, you leant against the closed door. With slow and regular breathing you tried to slow down your pulse.

Connor watched you. You still held his hand in yours. Your warm skin against his shot something through his system.

software instability^

He felt something. The former signal popped up but he couldn’t completely understand what the reaction meant.

You looked up to the android in front of you. He just stood there looking at you dressed with his grey uniform and his LED spinning in a calming blue. Suddenly, it striked you: the clothes! Dressed like this, he was noticeable for everyone. “We have to get you other clothes.”

“Other clothes? I don’t see why-”, Connor started confused.

It was the moment where you lost your patience. You stepped in front of Connor to cup his face with your hands to get his full attention. “If I don’t get you out of here, you will be dead. You get it? You will die and that’s not what I want for you, okay? Yes, I gave you all the orders for your mission but just because CyberLife demanded it from me. I… I guess, I’m like you… a machine which was taking orders. But we will change that! I will get you out of here so you won’t die.”, you said meaningfully.

software instability^

Connor watched you curiously. There were so many impressions he had to deal with at the same time. Your small hands on his cheeks, your desperate voice and the way how concerned you looked at him. Slowly, he started to understand. “You… you want to save me. You fear for my life.”

“Yes! That is what I told you before. So, can you please work with me?”, you asked but before Connor could answer, your eyes fell on something hanging on the back of a chair. It was a black jacket and a black hoodie. You went over to the things and picked them up. They were big enough that they would fit Connor. “Undress your jacket and shirt to change into this.”, you said and gave Connor the clothes. Without another question, he obeyed and did what you said. As he started to unbutton his white suit shirt, you turned around to look somewhere else. Otherwise, you feared Connor would notice your reddening cheeks.

software instability^

But Connor had seen it because you hadn’t been fast enough to turn around. As he looked at you, he noticed the glance in your eyes. Something was blazing he couldn’t grasp and as you turned away, the impression was gone. But the blushing of your cheeks made you look even more beautiful.

A few minutes later, you turned back to him with a smile on your lips that had an effect on his system. “You look good.”, you said appreciatively. In fact, the casual look was making him even more handsome. Just the blue LED let you frown. “Maybe you should get rid of this, as well.”, you said and pointed at the LED.

Connor took a pair of scissors, walked over to a mirror and removed the LED carefully. Through the mirror, he saw your surprised and concerned expression. The LED was falling on the ground and Connor watched how the spot covered itself with the synthetic skin. Only then, he turned around back to you.

With slow moves, you walked over to Connor who watched every single step of you closely. Carefully, you took the hood of the sweatshirt to don it over Connor’s hair. “You look very manlike. Now, we will go to my car. Behave as human as you can.”, you instructed softly and Connor nodded. Once again, he wanted to make you proud.

software instability^

#dbh connor #connor #detroit connor #connor dbh #detroit become human connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh #dbh rk900 #dbh rk800 #rk800connor #detroit become human #detroit become human aesthetic #connor rk800 #writing #fanfiction

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dragon-spaghetti · 4 years ago

Note

I start my minimum wage retail job tomorrow 😭 got any tips on how to survive?

Ok first off good luck!! And I'll try and give a few ajdhd

If you're like me and get put on night shifts:

Ok so for us we had to stay an extra half hour or so to clean after the shop closed, but a lot of the time customers would still be there after closing. It was infuriating cause we had shit to do and we're stressing about the time we'd be left with (I remember once I had to speed clean in half the time I usually had thanks to this). SO what's good to remember is that you're getting paid to be there either way. No point in stressing, it is not your fault they refuse to close the doors until the minute of closing. Just serve them if you have to and get as much done as you can

Interacting with people:

Default replies are your best friend lmao. I would have scripts in my head for certain situations, especially if they happened often!! For example anything that was age restricted I couldn't sell since I'm under 18, and I'd need to get someone to authorise it. So I'd usually say something along the lines of "sorry the product is just age restricted, and because I'm underage I need to wait for it to be authorised, it'll only be a minute". People were usually understanding if you give an explanation

Be polite with what you say (I know it's hard but it will benefit you, my manager liked me for being so nice even though she knew I hated people. It looks good). Just little "hello how are you!" "Yes of course!" can go a long way. Pleasant conversations can really help your mood too do not underestimate the power of a nice conversation with a customer!!

If people are dicks get a supervisor or manager to deal with them if possible, you are not paid enough to put up with that shit. Another tip is try to laugh it off after, I would rant with my coworkers about stupid customers and it made it more bearable!! Speaking of-

Coworkers:

You're not obligated to like everyone of course!! But getting along with at least some of your coworkers seriously can make the experience so much better, they're the only reason I stayed for so long.

The best way I found to start conversations was about the job itself, rant about stupid (or nice!!) customers and chances are they're gonna have their own stories to offer as well!! And try not to get on your manager's bad side, if you keep your head low and be nice you'll be all good, even better if you do get along w them!!

If you are snappy w coworkers it's usually understood anyways cause it Stressful working in retail, most of us have snapped at least once ajsjd just apologise after and probably try not to do it to a manager or supervisor

Retail can be hell, you'll meet some of the stupidest people ever. But laughing about it helped me, whether it be with coworkers or friends!! Cause at the end of the day you're not likely to see that person again so you can bitch away to your hearts content lmAo. And the nice customers can make it so much more bearable too, I still remember a lot of those moments and how little things like that could get me through the shift

#drag replies #THIS IS SO LONG AND RAMBLY AKSJSJS #I have no idea if any of that makes sense rip #but yeah my best advice is laugh it off #you won't be stuck there forever #I wish you luck!!!#you get a lot of stupid people but the nice ones can make it so much better

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apocalypse-gang · 4 years ago

Text

TUA S3 Titles & What They Could Mean

Spoilers for All S3 Info (Offical and Unofficial) Under Cut

Note: These theories are all my own. This is pure speculation, and I do not claim them to be correct or the only "right” theories in any shape or form. I love to see other theories, and I am fully prepared and excited to be proven wrong when S3 comes out. Thank you and enjoy!

Episode 1: Meet the Family

Well that’s pretty clear, and we’ve all known about this one for a while. The Umbrella Academy meets the Sparrow Academy. The Hargreeves meet the Hargreeves, their replacements/new family members (kinda, and then Ben, their old-new sibling).

Episode 2: World’s Biggest Ball of Twine

Whether or not the Hargreeves visit the real world’s biggest ball of twine in Branson, Missouri, I’m more doubtful. I am imagine it’s more likely something going to be mentioned throughout the episode. Maybe one of the members of Team Zero was born here, either in the town or at this attraction??? Maybe the Sparrows are seen/see themselves as an attraction or novelty? Or one of the Team Zero members of this timeline uses their powers as an attraction? I have no clue.

The ball of twine in question.

Episode 3: Pocket Full of Lightning

Someone has a lot of lightning. My initial thought is thinking maybe Five or Vanya? Since Five’s powers have sorta electrical stuff, and Vanya’s power can effect the weather?

But it is much more likely a Sparrow. Whether or not it means actuallightning powers or just having an abudance of power, we’ll see!

Episode 4: Kugelblitz

Kugelblitz, German for “Lightning ball”. I found two things referred to as “Kugelblitz” on wikipedia. One was “a German self-propelled anti-aircraft gun developed during World War II”. I am mostly ruling it out mostly because I could only see it being mentioned. and I don’t know why they would mention it. The second is

“a kugelblitz is a black hole formed from radiation as opposed to matter. Such a black hole would nonetheless have properties identical to one of equivalent mass and angular momentum formed in a more conventional way, in accordance with the no-hair theorem.”

And, while I don’t know how Team Zero could cause such a thing, I have no doubt that they could cause that.Maybe it is an metaphoical black hole they are getting into. Also, it’s interesting how it relates to the previous episodes title. Is lightning going to be something important this season? Does lightning = power, and this may be Klaus powerful moment? Or Five’s, since his time portal was confused for a possible wormhole/black hole(?) in the first episode of the series?

Maybe it’s just someting heavily mentioned in the episode, I can’t wait to find out.

Episode 5: Kindest Cut

I strongly believe it’s comes from the phrase “[The] unkindest cut [of all]”, which according to Dictionary.com, means “The most painful of insults, affronts, or offenses, often so painful because it comes from a trusted friend.” It comes from William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, and it’s how Antony describes the wound Brutus gave to Caesar.

So intially I assumed it had to do with Diego because cut, but now I’m not sure. Part of me thinks it may have to do with Five or Reginald? Maybe one of them is doing something they view as kind to Team Zero but hurting them in the process? I definitely see it is as betrayal done out of apparent kindess, though it would be pretty late for the Hotel Oblivion. I’m excited and scared.

Episode 6: Marigold

Okay this was the most fn discovery. Blackman mentioned in the Geeked Weeked interview that superfans would know about this since the beginning... Well I searched up “Umbrella Academy” and “Marigold”, I found an interview on AWN.com. It’s called “Different Day, Different Doomsday in ‘The Umbrella Academy’ Season 2″, and it was with TUA VFX supervisor Everett Burrell. One quote of his stood out to me,

In another sequence, Ben dissipates because of his interaction with Vanya. “Hargreeves opens a jar and a marigold flies out into space; that’s how the marigold gets into the kids’ bodies,” Burrell says. “When Ben dissipates, Steve wanted the same marigold effect that is almost like fireflies breaking off and crumbling.”

He spefically called those fireflies things “marigold”.

These things...

are marigolds. I think we’re finally getting answers to what they are, and how they related to the Hargreeves, their origins, and their powers.

And it fits. It’s something superfans have been thinking about, it’s something we’ve all been wondering, and we could figure out and understand.

I am trying my best not to freak out.

Episode 7: Auf Wiedersehen

I feel like we all the same idea of what this is about. Auf Wiedersehen is german for ‘goodbye’, and Klaus, who’s name is german and speaks german (and is all but confirmed to be born in germany), has “Goodbye” tattooed on one of his palms.

Lowkey, kind of terrifying at first. Are we saying goodbye to Klaus? Is Klaus saying goodbye to Dave for good? But... we’ve speculated the worst for episodes titles before and they didn’t come to pass.

There’s been some unofficial set spoilers that give me one idea. They’ve apparently built the Berlin Wall, that was still up when the Hargreeves were born. Though that may be happening in an earlier episode, I’ll still speulate that it might happen in this episode? Maybe we see Klaus’ (and at some point perhaps the rest of team zero’s) birth. Maybe the “Auf Wiedersehen” is his mother saying goodbye?

But maybe they just time travel to the Berlin Wall? Maybe this episode has nothing to do with that? Hell, the title may not have anything to do with Klaus, maybe he said goodbye to the Sparrows? Or goodbye to the Mothers of Agony?

I’m trying to not be worried about our characters.

Episode 8: Wedding at the End of the World

Immediately made me think of “We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals”. I have no idea if it willl be a Team Zero or Sparrows or some other characters we’ll get to know this season? None of the Hargreeves seem like they’d want to get married at the moment, for many many different reasons. The goofball in me says Five married Dolores in the apocalypse.

Is the world possibly ending again? Or is it like,Team Zero’s world is emotionally ending. Is it an wanted wedding, or a happy marriage?

I wanna believe the wedding is Klaus and Dave so bad but I doubt it’ll be that

Episode 9: Six Bells

My immediate thought was wedding bells cuz of the last episode. There is a village in Wales called Six Bells, so maybe another Team Zero birth location? But it is more likely six literal bells? LIke they’re important to Reginald? Maybe Team Zero are like metaphorical six bells, but what would that mean?

I’m grasping at straws for this one.

Episode 10: Oblivion

Well, this is ominous. We know it has to do with Hotel Oblivion, but what exactly? Are the siblings escaping the Hotel and the wreck they caused, or are they going further into literal oblivion, a state of being unaware what is happening. Makes me think we won’t be getting a break for the Hargreeves at the end. And goes knows what they’ll have to face off next.

#tua s3 spoilers #tua s3 speculation #tua #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #tua s3 #tua speculation #tua theory #tua s3 theory #tua s3 theories

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 4 years ago

Note

Please tell us about the cinema, I beg you

Oh boy...that accursed night. If you think fanfic plots are chaotic, just wait for this story.

Story under the cut:

So, I just got this job at my small town’s local theatre. I genuinely enjoyed it, and was quite content with the way things were going—fun shifts, cool coworkers, and a nice boss. So I thought.

I was only two weeks in when the “incident” occurred.

At the theatre, we had to collect a walkie talkie radio at the start of every shift, and sign it in and out with a piece of paper in the office.

It was a little clunky and annoying when cleaning cinemas with vacuums, but nothing to cry over.

One night, I’m put to work with a new supervisor I hadn’t met before and some new coworkers (they’d all been there a while, but this was my first shift with them).

For a little context, I’m 19, and most of the other employees were like 15-17. So, I was basically being bossed around by pretentious, power-tripping kids. Fun.

King Kong vs Godzilla had just been released, so of course, the theatre was packed that night — 130 people per room.

Now, we usually have 20-30 minute intervals between sessions to clean the cinemas, but with the release of a new movie, it was cut down in half, sometimes less.

I was cleaning the most popular cinema that night, and was first told to take my time, as it needed to be spotless. Also, side note, can people please not throw popcorn everywhere? It’s a pain to clean. Then again, I don’t work there anymore nor ever will, so do what you want, I suppose.

My little coworker told me to take my radio off my belt and put it aside to get a good vacuum going through each aisle, as it apparently made it easier, as the cord would sometimes get wrapped around the radio stem.

Fair enough.

I did so, and left it on the wooden platform of the rows to begin vacuuming. He leaves and I get to work.

However, he comes rushing back a few minutes later and says, “what the hell are you still cleaning for?? We’ve got a hundred people waiting outside???”

I’m over it™️ at this point because I only took this job to see the behind the scenes of how a cinema works. I shrug and go, “okay”

I pack the vacuum up and try to leave hastily, as he’s being very antsy and pushy.

He gets frustrated and grabs the rest of my cleaning crap to leave, and tells me to hurry up behind him.

My hands are full and I can’t grab the radio, so I say, “what about the walkie talkie?”

I swear I hear him say, “leave it, there’s no time!”

I shrug and think it’s weird, but trust him to know better.

However, once I dump my crap and prepare to leave, as a hundred people are pushing in behind me, my intuition tells me to grab the walkie talkie.

I rush back in to where I left it, and find it missing

I have a brief moment of “oh shit”

However, I think to myself, “it’s okay, you only took this job for shits and giggles. If they fire you, you have your other job anyways. What’s the worst that can happen?”

If only I knew.

An hour goes by into my shift, and I’m cleaning another cinema with the same coworker. I’ve kind of shoved the walkie talkie thing to the back of my mind, because I was doing a closing shift that night and could probably get away with not facing my manager about the sign out sheet.

However, at one point the boy goes, “where’s your radio??”

Sheepishly, I say, “uh...I left it in cinema 3, like you told me to?”

He sort of pales and I think this little skinny high schooler is about to pass out.

He starts yelling at me and tells me that I need to get my flashlight and start checking every single row in there.

I go, “fuck no, the movie is still going? You want me to flash a torch in the peoples’ faces during King Kong?? The one cinema hosting the entirety of the sweaty balls side of reddit right now???”

He gets very shitty and says, “I’ll do it myself, wait here.”

By now I know I’m in the shit, but shrug and remember I can always escape through the vents if need be.

Now, there was this really fucking annoying 15 year old boy I was working with that night, who’s the definition of the “well aCtUaLlY” guy irl

He comes sprinting into the theatre I was cleaning, and starts literally interrogating me over this walkie talkie. Like, he thinks he’s the “bad cop” or some shit. Other coworkers closer to my age had already warned me about him before I even met him.

The other boy I was working with apparently couldn’t find it, and just didn’t want to deal with the consequences that night so much, that he called his mum to come pick him up early.

Weakling child.

It was at this point that I quietly arrived at the conclusion of “they think I stole it”

I didn’t understand why, it’s a fucking walkie talkie? What’s the big deal? Go get a Dora the Explorer one to replace it from Target??

I let my inner Mickey Milkovich come out, and play cool.

Him: you fucking stole it

Me:

This 15 year old Ben Shapiro-looking fucker starts grilling me, and literally places me under theatre arrest. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room I was cleaning, in other words.

He gets uncomfortably close—just me and this weird boy in this dark theatre—and goes, “I want you to be brutally honest with me...did you take the walkie talkie? I won’t tell the manager that you did.”

If you guys know me well enough from my blog, then you know this boy suffered a great deal of aggressive sarcasm in response.

He gets pissed (brown-noser), and tells me to continue cleaning, as he leaves the theatre.

Only ten minutes go by until he comes back, but this time with “good cop”.

I roll my eyes, and turn the vacuum off.

They stand at the bottom of the cinema blocking my entrance with their arms folded, and start interrogating me about stealing it.

I give them some more Mickey Milkovich sarcasm, as I had already explained to them a hundred times what happened.

They involve the manager (snitches) and now I’m really in trouble.

They force me to go into the cinema whilst the movie is still playing to look for it. Begrudgingly grabbing my flashlight, and preparing for rightfully angry people as I search their crotches in the middle of a highly anticipated movie, I head inside theatre 3.

Fuck doing that though, I watch the movie instead with the people and eat some popcorn.

Figuring a reasonable amount of time to search had gone by, I sadly leave the cool laser battle scene, and head back out.

Me: “I searched and couldn’t find it.”

Power-complex 15 year old with a punchable Ben Shapiro face: “Did you look everywhere in the cinema??”

Me: “Yeah, I shoved a flashlight up seat 33’s asshole and checked it myself.”

Some more pissy exchanges take place, and I’m told to go clean another cinema.

I’m having fun at this point, because I’ve worked enough jobs to know this situation was being dealt with incredibly immaturely by the other staff.

Regarding accidents like these in the workplace, and given how big the cinema chain is, they should know insurance covers a simple walkie talkie, and that assuming the new employee stole something which is misplaced is a bad way to integrate them into your company. It’s simply a bad look for your business.

I’m cleaning another cinema when all three come in, and tell me they’re going to put cinema 3 on lockdown when the movie ends, and check everyone’s bags.

I’m amused at this point, so I really just go “damn bro that’s wild”

They do exactly that, and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.

People are angry and annoyed—all 130 of them at 9:30pm huddled in a group, having their bags searched for a damn walkie talkie.

After discovering no one had actually stolen it, like I said, they start interrogating me again.

“Are you sure it was cinema 3??? Is your memory perhaps failing you???”

“If I say yes, will I go home sooner?” (my shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I wasn’t allowed to leave)

Naturally, I stayed another 40 minutes, and had to search the entire building. I’m talking arcade, toilets, offices—everywhere.

It is eventually deemed completely lost, and I basically end the night saying, “well, I ain’t about to strip nude for you all for a full body search, and although I’ve never had such a fun shift anywhere else, I’m not a fan of work environments that promote skepticism and cohort-wide distrust. I ain’t coming in next week, or the week after that, or the...well, I think you get the point.”

I leave my badge behind, and basically book it out of the cinema an hour after my shift was supposed to end. I worked illegally longer than I was supposed to, and wasn’t given the legal shift break.

I received text messages and emails from the head office shortly after, asking if I was coming back, and ignored them for a little while, as although I can handle irl confrontation, virtual ones spook me?

Anywho, the walkie talkie actually costs $1000, but as mentioned before, I, an adult, recognise insurance covers these sorts of things, especially in companies as big as these.

So, moral of the story, don’t leave 15 year olds in charge of adults, because most of the time, they’re too young to realise what insurance policies are :)

#I have so many more stories like this #and I’m pretty sure I left a few good details out #but it was like 2 months ago so I don’t remember #was a wild night #and I can’t wait to tell it around a fellowship campfire #or to my kids #I’m not kidding when I say I am literally Alvin the chipmunk given how many times I get myself into trouble and sticky situations #xoxo gossip girl

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ninjakitty15 · 4 years ago

Text

Steering Clear (Loki Oneshot)

Loki couldn’t understand why he was pressured into this trivial, useless and utter waste of time lesson. It was all beneath him, these midgardian contraptions, when he could just as easily get the same results his own magical, mischievous way without needing to lift a finger or get a license for it. Really the only reason why he eventually agreed to the very idea of it was because he wasn’t the only one that was reluctant to go along, the one giving the lesson definitely didn’t sign up for this either and was even less pleased by this whole situation than Loki was. Loki of course found that more than amusing and therefore worth the small amount of time he would actually waste doing this. There was an ongoing joke among his assigned teacher’s friends that said teacher already had a resting murder face but seeing that there was even a darker than murderous look on his face in agreeing to this lesson put a smile on Loki’s instantly.

“What’s got your feathers ruffled now, Barton?” Loki asked none too innocently.

Clint jerked his head sharply in Loki’s direction then with an expression that promised a lifetime of slow, painful deaths. “Shut up and get in the fucking car. You’re lucky we’re stationed in America or this would suck so much harder for both of us.”

Loki arched an eyebrow at the second part as he had come to understand America wasn’t as a great a country as it probably could be, it wasn’t even the second greatest country on this planet, probably not the third either. Nonetheless he graciously did as he was told and slid into the car smoothly, opposite side as Clint. “How do I adjust my seat exactly?” he begrudgingly asked.

“There should be a lever next to your seat to adjust the back, another one to move it forward or backward for leg room.”

Loki reached below his left side seeing as there was absolutely no way to reach down the right and found both levers, fixing his spot accordingly till he was completely comfortable. He glanced at all things needed to control the contraption, how much different could this be than the ships in Asgard? Besides the fact these ones weren’t made to be airborne, a shame that was as he actually enjoyed flying when it wasn’t by his oaf of a brother’s doing. He glanced over at Clint expectantly then and held out a hand. “I believe you have something I need.”

“What’s the magic word?” sneered Clint right back.

“You really don’t want me to say any magic words in your presence as a great many of them wouldn’t give you any peace of mind, something I’m sure you’ve already experienced,” growled Loki right back.

Clint considered chucking the keys he was harboring out the window but as this wasn’t even his car and he was the assigned supervisor for it, he would be the one in trouble for losing them in the end. He also considered a few scenarios where he would get out of the car right before a freak accident occurred with Loki still inside but he reminded himself as the car was still his responsibility in the end and Loki was after all superhuman, he would still be the only one hurting from it. Not worth the pain on his end. What would Natasha do? Probably blind him in one eye that would hinder his ability to drive without depth perception and make it look entirely like he did it on purpose.

“What exactly do you need from me? Ask me nicely,” Clint retorted before realizing how sexual that sounded and inwardly cringed, it sounded a lot better in his head.

“If you would give me the keys to this death trap, Barton, that would be ever so kind of you,” Loki in turn purred, not at all bothered.

Clint reluctantly handed it over, already done with the verbal sparring and just wanting this whole thing to be over already. He suddenly had a desperate need to take a long shower and scrub himself raw.

Loki took no time at all figuring out which key actually worked for the car and turned it till the engine came to life for him.

“Check your mirrors first,” grumbled Clint, earning him an eyeroll from his student driver. “How can someone so much older act so childish?”

“You’d be better asking that question to my older brother who has yet to reach maturity himself despite being the crown prince.”

“I would but I’m stuck here with you instead. Gently press your right foot on the brake pedal on the left then firmly pull the stick shift from P to D.” Clint decided to blame Tony for his mind instantly thinking that too sounded dirty, he couldn’t have been any more uncomfortable doing this if he was wearing a thong and Natasha’s super suit.

Loki did as he was told and was tempted to read Clint’s mind seeing how even giving the god instructions seemed to grind his gears the wrong way but decided against it as he too wanted this over with.

“Take your foot off the brake pedal and gently press it on the accelerator pedal on the right, slowly please. Keep both hands on the wheel as often as possible on either side of the top center or ten and two if this was a clock.”

Loki threw a glance around him before he got bored of simply following instructions to the T and pretended to slowly drive forward before applying more pressure on the pedal and bolting forward, peeling out into the driving course parking lot and weaving his way through the orange traffic cones, tires screeching the entire way with every sharp unorthodox turn. He stole a glance at Clint whilst driving like a Fire Giant out of Muspelheim who was sheet white and pressed back against the passenger seat, knuckles just as white while one hand gripped the seat and the other hand grasped the latch over the window. He then stopped short in front of a stop sign temporarily stationed ahead before lurching forward and quickly figuring out how much to turn the wheel and brake at just the right time and pressure to miraculously park between two other SUV’s to check off parallel parking on the list of driving achievements. He put the car back in park and turned off the car before turning to Clint fully for his reaction.

“How’d I do?” Loki asked once again not too innocently or as innocently as the god of mischief could sound.

“What the actual fuck was that? No, don’t answer that! I’m gonna need a moment to hold down my lunch and a clean pair of pants after that stunt.” He looked over the list he was given to decide if Loki passed the test or not and was dismayed to find there was no spot for comments or complaints. He was even more dismayed to find that Loki despite his antics and speeding had somehow managed to check everything off the list, well almost everything, he didn’t use his signal lights though to be fair, that seemed to be a dying art among drivers depending on where you were driving. “How the hell did you pass, this is some bullshit.”

“What is it you Midgardians would say? Ye of little faith?”

Clint snorted at Loki’s smug commentary. “This is why I’m atheist.” He snatched the keys from Loki once more and the two got out of the car, Clint glaring at Loki the entire time. “If there really were such things as gods then one of them would show some mercy and put me out of my misery by now.”

“Why Barton, all you had to do was ask and I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Loki cooed.

Before Clint could lunge at the cocky god like he so desperately wanted to do since shooting him wouldn’t do anything, Fury interrupted their verbal battle himself and directed his unforgiving gaze at Clint in warning. “How’d he do?”

“He fucking passed! I’m done with this fuckery! I’m going home and having a shower and a drink, maybe at the same time and I’m never doing any more favors for you ever! Peace!” He tossed the paper in the air dramatically and stormed off without another word or a glance back.

Fury caught the paper before Loki could and read down the list curiously before glancing up at Loki who was smirking proudly back at him. He then took out a cigarette and a lighter and promptly set the paper on fire. “You didn’t think I’d notice the format had been changed and the list shortened, did you?”

Loki scoffed. “Consider me surprised you notice anything with only one working eye.”

“Consider yourself a pedestrian until I decide otherwise and if there is an otherwise it will be either myself or Romanoff as your tester and you can bet we won’t take any of your bullshit tricks. Until then, you better start walking now if you want to get back to the compound by the evening.” Fury then unlocked the car behind the one Loki had parked and smoothly backed out and sped off.

Loki watched Fury drive off and rolled his eyes before disappearing in a flash of green then reappearing right where he last stood and looked around. He sighed, shook his head, and repeated disappearing and reappearing two more times. “What sorcery is this?”

“Mine actually,” another familiar voice spoke up before a sparkling gold ring appeared behind him and out stepped another sorcerer in a red cape and blue robes. “When you can drive, you can teleport again, no shortcuts or cheating.”

“I thought you didn’t want to deal with the Avengers.”

“Oh I don’t, but putting you in your place again made their lesser annoyance worth it. Start walking, no taxi, lyft or Uber will pick you up either, I made sure of it.” He stepped back through his gold ring before Loki hurled a dagger he had summoned at him and disappeared from the parking lot, leaving Loki alone and stranded.

Loki tried once more to teleport only to remain back where he stood before again and cursed in his native tongue before eying the remaining car left. He couldn’t teleport clearly but if he could summon daggers, his magic wasn’t completely cut off. He snapped his fingers and the car unlocked for him, the mortals were fools for teaching him how to drive. He slid into the car and started it up with magic, smirking in satisfaction as it came to life at his command. Rob Zombie’s Red, Red Kroovy came blasting on the stereo and his smirk widened. The sky might be Thor’s but the roads were now his. He glanced up at the rear view mirror before peeling out of the parking lot, the black SUV shimmering into a forest green sports car as it sped off into the city. As if he needed anything but himself to get what he wanted or where he wanted.

#Loki oneshot #loki driving lessons #avengers #clint barton #hawkeye #Fury #Dr Strange #Loki #for @kaogasm #challenge accepted

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britishassistant · 4 years ago

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Has Visitors

You’re a fool.

A blind, tunnel-visioned, desperate fool.

There’s no one you can blame for this mess but yourself.

You were moronic enough to think that a promise would’ve been enough to stop Grim from going after more overblot stones.

And now where are you?

Lying in a bed in the infirmary, bandages and gauze wrapped around you from your collarbone to your chin, because the one creature in this fucked up magic world that you were stupid enough to trust unconditionally tried to rip out your throat over a rock.

Your neck aches. You’re so tired it feels like you can barely even move. Your head is a weird weight of white noise, making it hard to think about anything other than your current predicament and how you should’ve seen it coming a mile away. How you should’ve stopped it.

Maybe—maybe it was because you’d made him hold out too long. Maybe that’s it. Maybe you were wrong to make him swear not to eat any more, and him lashing out at you over Vil-senpai’s stone was just-just temptation that had been pushed too far. Why weren’t you looking after him more closely anyway? You’re his supervisor, you’re supposed to make sure Grim doesn’t get into trouble, you should’ve noticed he was gone sooner. Then maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like Grim wasn’t working hard to uphold your deal, you were the one who wasn’t meeting his efforts halfway. After all, he hadn’t eaten anything after Jamil-senpai’s overblot, had he?

...

Had he?

No stone ever turned up after Jamil-senpai’s overblot.

And you were so out of it that night, riding out the aftereffects of the overblot’s venom and the anti-venom warring in your system.

Grim could’ve easily left during the night and eaten it, and so long as you never asked, never pressed him about it, you’d have been none the wiser.

And you didn’t ask. You just trusted him.

You’re a fool. A pathetic, misguided, twisted, worthless fool.

Your family was right about you.

You would grind the heels of your hands into your eyes, but even lifting your arms towards your face feels like more effort than you can spare right now. Luckily it takes no effort to stare up at the ceiling and just hate yourself for your stupidity.

You’d have thought you would have learned that trusting people is an awful idea already. Hopefully this will finally get the message through your thick skull—

“Yuu?”

You tilt your head and blink up at Deuce. He grins, blindingly bright. “Guys, he’s awake!”

You weakly smile back, ruthlessly squashing the urge to correct him.

Epel pushes the divider back as he rounds it, pretty face worried. “Prefect, how are you feeling? Nurse Kamac said you lost a lot of blood.”

“M okay.” You mumble back, your tongue feeling thick and sluggish in your mouth.

“What the hell happened to you, Prefect?” Deuce moves to pull up a chair and sit down next to you, shooting you doubtful looks. “Was it an attack by another overblot or something? Some kind of monster? Did you get jumped by some punks from RSA?”

You wonder what you should tell them. You know that all you have to do is tell him the truth, say the word, and they’ll all be off after Grim like a group of hunting dogs, just like when you used to ask Ace and Deuce to help you catch him back at the start of the school year.

But Grim might get hurt. Or he might hurt them.

Can you put them through that?

Ace collides with the foot of the bed, interrupting your internal debate, eyes wide and panting. “Guys, bad news. Crewel’s outside asking for us, he looks pissed.”

Deuce and Epel stiffen in tandem, darting nervous glances towards the door like the potions and alchemy teacher will burst in at any moment. “What’d you do?!” Deuce hisses.

“How’d you know it wasn’t you, ass?!” Ace protests. “Seriously, we can’t keep him waiting! I think he’s even madder than the time Grim turned his coat pink and green.”

All four of you shudder collectively.

Epel grabs Deuce’s arm, squaring his shoulders. “We just gotta—need to see what Professor Crewel wants right? It may not even be us he’s piss—irritated at. Just gotta man up and face him.”

Deuce nods, even though he looks like he really, really doesn’t want to. He and Ace follow Epel away from your bed and towards the infirmary exit. You loll your head back onto your pillows and resume your staring at the ceiling.

“But Ace, no one’s...?”

“What the—?!”

There’s a bang as the infirmary doors slam shut.

You look over in time to see Ace slide a mop through the door handles, and drag a chair over to prop under them. He then points his magic pen at it all and a padlocked chain loops itself around the whole affair and clicks shut. You can hear Deuce and Epel hammering on the other side, demanding he open up.

“Ace?” You struggle to sit up, your throat aching. “What—”

“Shh, sh, easy, we gotta be quick.” He darts over you, helping you to sit up and pulling up the pillows behind you to lean back against. “Do you need me to get your shirt for you?”

“W-what?” Your brain is still struggling to catch up.

Ace gestures impatiently to your chest.

You look down.

Oh.

You look back up at Ace, cold sweat drenching you.

Please no. Not him too.

Ace reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out—!

He holds up your binder. “Figured Kamac might not have let you keep it. It hurts your ribs, right?”

Wait. What?

“H-how...?” You stutter, fumbling with the buttons at your collar.

He shoots you a look. “I basically carried you back here from Dwarf Mines. It was easy to tell something was up when Kamac wouldn’t let me or Deuce stay in the room while you were getting patched up. Plus this was kinda dangling out your back pocket when you came out”

Well. That’s. That’s...

“Look are we doing this or not?!” Ace hisses, shooting a nervous glance back at the door where Deuce and Epel’s voices are being joined by others and growing louder. You think you hear Kalim-senpai’s twittering, Vil-senpai barking orders, and Jamil-senpai’s drawl.

You begin working on your buttons with newfound determination.

Ace helps you get your head through the top hole of the binder without pulling on the bandages around your neck too much.

You struggle your arms through the arm holes, and then shrug the hospital pajama shirt back on. He’s already done over half the buttons by the time you’ve recovered from your discombobulation.

“Feel okay? Not hurting your breathing or anything?” You nod, still disoriented. “Okay, let’s just get you back under the covers, and then I’ll let in the circus.”

There’s another metallic clang from the door and a cry of pain that sounds worryingly like Ashengrotto-senpai.

“W-why?” You rasp, an odd swooping feeling catapulting in your stomach, like you’ve just jumped off the bleachers again. “Why would you...?”

Ace heaves a sigh and gives you a look normally reserved for Deuce and Grim. “Because you’re my friend, you little dumbass. Getting something like this for you isn’t a big deal or anything.”

You gape at him so hard it feels like your eyes are burning.

Something inside you feels impossibly, uncontrollably warm.

Turns out getting a lump in your throat really hurts when you’re recovering from having it slashed open.

“Aw, jeez, what’s with the waterworks?!” Ace leans over you, ungloved hand swiping at the tears on your cheeks. “C’mon Yuu, if they get back in here and see you crying, you know Deuce’ll kill me.”

“Good. ‘S a-all your fault. I won’t f-forgive you until you give me a hug, you big jerk.” You sniffle, opening your arms and holding them out.

He huffs a laugh, before following your orders. “You’re a tyrant, ya know that? You’re as bad as Vil-senpai and Dorm Head Riddle.”

“I’m worse than they could ever be.” You mumble, hiding your burning eyes in his shoulder. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Oi, you better not be wiping your nose on my jacket!” He tries to shrug you off gently. He still hasn’t stopped hugging you though. “Get your snot and tears offa me!”

You cling onto him tighter, unable to stop giggling even as a few hysterical tears slip down your cheeks. “Suffer.”

“Tyrant.” He fakes an exasperated groan, but you can feel him chuckling along with you.

There’s not many things you can think of that would ruin this moment.

“King’s Roar.”

...Being bathed in sand as the doors to the infirmary disintegrate certainly wasn’t one you had in mind, though it does the trick well enough.

Lucky you had Ace hugging you to act as a human shield for the worst of it.

He sputters once the deluge has subsided, shaking his head and rudely dumping the excess sand into your lap. “Ugh, senpai, what the hell?! Would it have killed you to wait one minute?!”

“You take too long.” Leona-senpai shrugs, pocketing his magic pen again and sauntering in to stretch out on the empty bunk next to you. “These guys wouldn’t stop whining until I did something.”

Deuce rushes over to your bedside with Epel and Kalim close behind him, kneeling down next to you. “Prefect, are you okay?! What’d he do to you?!”

“His eyes are all red an’ swollen!” Epel points out before you can say anything. “Ace, you bas—”

“Epel.” Vil-senpai stalks in, looking much better since you last saw him at VDC. Healthier, somehow. “But yes, Potato #1, what exactly were you playing at, locking everyone out like that?”

Ace stammers under Vil-senpai’s cold glare, so you take pity on him, clearing your throat weakly. “Ace just didn’t want any witnesses to him fussing over me. He’s allergic to showing kindness, after all.”

For some reason, being able to say that and have Ace elbow you playfully makes you feel...buoyant, somehow.

Everyone stares at you. The weight of their disbelief is heavy.

Kalim places his hands over yours. “Yuu, you don’t have to be afraid to tell us the truth! You’re among friends here!”

“Oi!” Ace protests.

“Who’re you calling ‘friend’?” Leona-senpai interjects, because he’s still a huge bag of dicks.

Ashengrotto-senpai has his magic pen in its cane form and is leaning on it heavily, limping. “I wouldn’t worry Kalim-san. I’m sure whatever the Prefect experienced can’t be worse than having a cauldron drop on you.”

Deuce inches closer to hide behind you and Epel sheepishly.

“Technically Azul, it was rebounded onto you off the doors of the infirmary.” Jade-senpai interjects cheerfully, switching a bouquet from one hand to the other. “Though I’m sure Spade-san would be glad to reimburse us for damages through labor if necessary~”

Deuce lets out a squeak.

“Eeeeh~~ Crab-chan, were you doing something naaauughty with Shrimy all alone in here~?” Floyd-senpai drapes himself over Ace’s shoulders, arms looping around him. “No faaaaaiiir, I wanna play too~~”

Ace stiffens, face growing to match his hair as Floyd-senpai’s arms begin to tighten. “J-Jamil-senpai—!”

Jamil-senpai cruelly ignores him. “Kalim, make sure you’ve still got your magic pen when we leave. The Prefect might try to add to his collection.”

You shoot him a look. “When are you going to let that go?”

He sits on the end of your bed and smiles sweetly at you. “When you stop making a nuisance of yourself by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Prefect.”

You try to dissect that statement, then give up and settle for attempting to kick him off the bed. You only end up depositing more sand into your lap under the covers.

He laughs at you, because for all his talk about reputation, Jamil-senpai is also a huge bag of dicks.

The dust and sand irritates your nose and throat, making you cough hard. It’s not as bad as it was after Vil-senpai’s overblot, but you feel the warning tugs on your weakened lungs and torn throat. You gratefully accept the glass of water Epel hands you, gulping it down.

The sand around you gently shifts and seeps out from under and on top of your covers as you swallow, pooling into a large pile at your bedside.

Leona-senpai’s tail flickers as he tucks his magic pen back away and pretends to be sleeping again.

Deuce begins to fret over you, taking the empty cup from your hands and ineffectually trying to fluff your pillows. You let him hover as Ace rolls his eyes and playfully ribs at him for his mother-henning.

Jade-senpai places the bouquet in a small vase on the table next to you with Vil-senpai and Epel fussing over the arrangement every time Floyd-senpai delights in deliberately poking the flowers out of alignment.

Kalim-senpai promises to bring you a carpet next time, maybe even an elephant if you want, much to Jamil-senpai’s dismay. Ashengrotto-senpai begins trying to negotiate for even more presents.

Leona-senpai half-heartedly growls at everyone to shut up and let him sleep.

You’re a fool if you think trusting these people will turn out any better than trusting Grim did.

But somehow, you feel like you’d rather be a fool and enjoy the warmth blooming in your chest right now rather than anything else.

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avintagekiss24 · 5 years ago

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Hot for teacher [1] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 2,558

WARNINGS; Age difference, teacher/student dynamics, female masturbation, eventual dub-con elements

SUMMARY; You’re in your final year away at boarding school. There’s a new ethics teacher in town, and instead of helping you to straighten out your principals, he twists them all up.

NOTE; This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Precode Challenge. I chose the movie Madchen in Uniform from 1931, where a girl gets sent off to boarding school and falls for her teacher.

I’m not sure how many parts this’ll end up being, but I have a lot of ideas, lol. Reader is a smart ass in this one, but Bucky likes a smart ass. Hope you guys enjoy on this fine Saturday evening :)

☞ PART TWO | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

You tap your pencil against your open textbook absentmindedly as you glance around the room. Your foot swings wildly from side to side as your brain races. You take a deep breath. You’ve always loved and hated the first day of school. You hate it, because from the moment your alarm goes off on the first day of school, the anxiety and pressure sets in. The word perfect comes to mind. You have to be perfect - straight A’s for mommy and daddy and nothing less. You love it because it’s really the only thing you’re good at. You’ve been perfect for so long that you don’t know how to be anything else.

You always sit up straight. You always cross your legs. You always eat your salad with your salad fork and your dinner with your dinner fork. You say please and thank you after every interaction with another human. You are prim and proper and perfect - always have been, always will be.

You glance at the clock on the wall - leave it to the new guy to be late on the first day. You roll your eyes and let out another sigh as you continue to kick your foot out of boredom and anxiety. People talk and laugh around you but you tune it out as you chew on the inside of your cheek. You glance at the clock again - come on.

The door suddenly opens, snapping all of your attention toward it as a short haired, stubble chinned man enters, “Sorry guys,” he starts, as he moves toward his desk, “It’s not the first day of school unless I’ve set a bad example for you.”

Laughter sounds around you but you don’t join in. You blink slowly as you scoot to the edge of your seat.

“So, first things first,” he starts, sitting on the edge of his desk and stretching out his legs to cross them at the ankles, “I’m Professor Barnes, but I don’t want any of you calling me that. We’re all adults, right? I mean, you’re all almost eighteen, if you aren’t already. Call me Bucky.”

Bucky. You’re not sure why but a jolt of something flashes right through your body. Bucky. It’s oddly erotic. You sit up a little straighter (if that’s at all possible) in your seat.

Your eyes sink down his lean frame. He’s dressed like you’d think an ethics teacher would be dressed - a brown and beige sweater covers a striped button down dress shirt and matching tie. His legs are long in his brown slacks, the material hugging his thighs slightly tighter than they should. The outfit is capped off with a pair of brown loafers - the expensive kind - as he shakes his foot.

“I’m also not going to lie, I’m probably going to be late more often than not. I’m not a morning person.”

He chuckles after his admission and you groan inwardly. Your eyes squint slightly as you bring the eraser of your pencil to your mouth to chew on it. Your crossed legs start to sway to and fro as your eyes continue to move up and down his body. Your thoughts turn from straight A’s and extra credit to things that would make your mother blush. He looks like he works out. He looks… firm.

A short, dark haired girl lifts her hand from the second row and he nods towards her, “So, what happens if we’re late? Are you going to count it against us?”

He cocks his head to the side and bends his lips down before he shrugs, “What do you think I should do, Miss…”

“Amy, Amy Podkulski.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I think as long as we’re here within a reasonable time, we should get a pass. As long as we aren’t taking advantage of it, you know?”

He nods slowly, keeping his blue eyes on her as she talks, “I think that’s fair. I mean, listen, I’m supposed to be preparing you for real life, right? For college and beyond - look, things are going to happen. People are going to get sick, they’re going to oversleep, they’re going to have car trouble. That’s real life. I’m not a hard ass. I like to think of myself as understanding, so, as long as you all are honest with me and don’t take advantage of me, an occasional tardy won’t bother me.”

You watch as several students nod and smile, already catching onto his casual vibe.

“That’s cool,” Amy Podkulski nods and you can hear the smile on her face, “Thanks Professor Barnes.”

“I told you,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s Bucky. Any other questions? Come on guys, I don’t bite.”

Your brain spins at almost a million miles a second as you chew on your pencil. You lift your hand slowly, a smirk playing on your lips as you come up with something shitty to say. Being a smart ass just comes with the territory you suppose.

Bucky links eyes with you seconds later and you almost gasp at the intensity behind them. You swallow quickly and clear your throat, regaining your composure quickly.

“You say that you’re supposed to be getting us ready for real life, right? So, how would you letting us be intentionally late, set us up for success?”

He smiles at you and pride swells in your chest, “Things happen. I’m not allowing you to be intentionally late for the hell of it, I’m being understanding.”

“Yes, but what supervisor or manager cares about what your morning is like?”

“Good ones.”

You shrug, “How many good supervisors or managers have you had?”

He smiles again, but this time wider - broader - showing off his perfect white teeth and the crinkles that form at the corners of his eyes, “Touche. What’s um, what’s your name?”

“I didn’t say.” You smirk back, enjoying this banter back and forth.

You’ve always tested your authority figures, trying to see if they can keep up with your quick wit and sharpness. You’ve dismantled a few, earning yourself more than a few tense classroom experiences, with one even having you switched to another teacher. This Bucky guy though? He’s good.

Truth be told, this is exactly what you wanted. Not so much to challenge him per se, but to have his full attention, all on little old you.

“Okay,” he starts confidently as he stands and starts to pace, his arms still crossed over his chest, “You think I’m being too lenient?”

“Not so much lenient, but you giving us the belief that as long as you're honest, people will both believe and forgive you. That’s just not true.”

“Interesting,” he nods as he continues to pace. He stops and cuts his eyes toward you again, “That’s a tad bit cynical, don’t you think?”

You shrug again as you feel the eyes of the rest of the students on you, “Maybe.”

“So, you don’t think that you’ll ever get the benefit of the doubt? That every single time you do something that’s considered a punishable offense, you should, but more importantly, you will be penalized? You think that is the real world?”

“That’s what society has shown us to believe, isn’t it? People get fired every day for being a few minutes late more than twice a month, aren’t they?”

He chuckles again, “Well if that’s the case, I should have been fired years ago.” Laughter rumbles through the classroom, “So you believe that you should be held accountable for everything?”

“Would I be taking ethics as an elective if I didn’t?”

He matches your smirk. He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes dipping down your face slightly before he returns them squarely to your eyes. Your body is shaky and hot, your panties wet for a multitude of reasons. You’re a show off, and it gets you off when you get to parade your intelligence in front of an audience. You like a quick banter, you like knowing that someone can stand toe to toe with you on an intellectual level. You also like him. Bucky.

You’re going to touch yourself tonight.

If you can make it that long, that is.

“How about we do this, miss I didn’t give my name. How about I hold you, and only you, accountable for your tardies, hm?”

You shrug defiantly, “That’s fine with me, but, how are you going to do that if you’re not going to show up on time?”

His voice drops to a dangerously low octave, “Oh, I think you just made me a morning person.” Your lips part as you sense the slight edge in his voice, “Anything else?” He asks, quirking his eyebrow.

You shake your head, “No sir.”

The next hour goes by all too quickly if you do say so yourself. You could listen to him speak for hours on end. You’ve got almost six pages of notes - things scribbled in the margins, arrows pointing every which way. You currently sit with your chin in your palm, your eyes squarely on him, your blood rushing as your clit throbs between your legs.

“Alrighty,” he sighs, checking his watch, “That’s all I’ve got today. I’ll see you guys on Wednesday, okay? Hope you enjoy the rest of your first day back.”

You shut your notebook as the rest of the class moves around you, chatter instantly filling the room as the bell rings seconds later. You shove your book into your bag and stand, adjusting your plaid skirt before you move between the seats and down to the door.

A hand stops you - thick fingers and a warm palm wrap around your bicep. You turn on the balls of your feet to face the strong jawed Bucky Barnes. He looks just past you as the rest of the students file out one by one.

“I’m going to take this as a personal challenge, I hope you know.” He simpers, still ready and willing to play with you.

“Well, I hope you do, Mr. Barnes. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I can see that,” he winks. You catch a whiff of his cologne and it nearly bowls you over, “I look forward to this semester with you.”

You bat your eyes towards him and drop your chin as a small, soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “You as well Mr. Barnes.”

He lets you take a few steps before he calls to you again, “It’s Bucky.”

You stop, glancing over your shoulder, “I prefer Mr. Barnes.”

You feel his eyes on you as you pass through the door.

You’re not going to make it until tonight.

You check your watch quickly before you eye the sign for the girls bathroom. Seven minutes. You can make it happen in seven minutes. You make a quick b-line and push into the crowded bathroom, thankfully finding an open stall. You move inside and shut the door, slamming the lock into the small hole. You drop your bag to the floor - something you’ll ultimately regret later due to your germaphobic tendencies - and shove your hand into your skirt.

You close your eyes as your fingers start to move quickly, Bucky’s voice filling your head. I’m going to take this as a personal challenge, I hope you know. Your fingers dance between your wet lips, quickening as flashes of your excitement start to bounce through you. Your heart flutters. You can hear your wetness as you massage your clit, your hips starting to roll into your fingers.

Six minutes.

You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle a soft moan as your free hand slips into your shirt. You squeeze your breast before pinching your nipple to bring it to attention. You toss your head back as thoughts of Mr. Barnes’ beard scraping against your thighs as he sucks you off ravage through your brain. You shove your fingers into your wet cunt, pushing them in and out, in and out as you roll your nipple between your fingers.

You release your breast and slip your hand into your skirt to accompany the other. You rub quick circles against your clit as you fuck yourself in the stall, just inches away from the flood of girls that move in and out of the bathroom.

So you believe that you should be held accountable for everything? You grunt softly as his words replay in your head. You want him to hold you accountable all right. Bend you over his desk, lift your skirt, spank you like the bad little girl you are.

Five minutes.

Your stomach jumps into your throat when your hips hitch at the thought, your orgasm building faster and faster. You push your hips into your hands as your skin starts to prickle with sensitivity. A shiver runs the length of your spine as you work yourself over, trying to stifle the high pitched noises that squeak out from your tight throat.

Your muscles clench your fingers as they start to quiver from the impending rush. Your heart leaps into your throat, your breath quickens as your body tenses.

Four minutes.

You hum quickly as you focus on coaxing out the sweet orgasm you so desire. You bite your lip again, imagining that your fingers are Mr. Barnes’ - scratching, groping, fingering, pumping into your flesh. How he’d ruck your skirt around your waist, nibble on your neck and earlobe, whisper sweet nothings as he finger fucks you up against his desk.

So, you don’t think that you’ll ever get the benefit of the doubt? That every single time you do something that’s considered a punishable offense, you should, but more importantly, you will be penalized?

You cum with three minutes to spare. You grunt quietly, biting down on your bottom lip so hard that you think you might draw blood. Your cunt clenches around your fingers as your clit jumps with convulsions. You thrust your hips forward as it consumes you - your pussy squirting, your warm juices splashing against your thighs and the floor below.

You fall against the wall, rolling onto your back as your chest heaves. Your eyelids are heavy as you can barely see through the slits. You hum again as a smile spreads on your face and a giggle sneaks through. This’ll get through the day. Now, you’ll be able to make it until tonight when you can slip under the covers with your vibrating boyfriend.

Two minutes.

You clean up - wiping at your thighs and then the floor with some toilet paper before collecting your bag. You move out to the sinks and wash your hands, keeping your eyes on your reflection in the mirror. Girls buzz around you, applying makeup and laughing and talking as you dry your hands before smoothing them down your jacket and skirt.

One minute.

You throw your hair over your shoulder, take one last glance at yourself before you move out into the hallway. You hurry toward your next class, slipping into the large room and taking a seat in the second row just as the bell rings. You wait a few minutes until your trigonometry teacher is deep in his lecture before you pull out your phone, flipping to your mother’s number.

I need a new backpack… dropped mine on the bathroom floor.

#precodechallenge #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x black!reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky x you #you x dark!bucky #professor!bucky #professor!bucky barnes #dark!fic #dark!#dark!marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #avintagekiss24 #hot for teacher

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years ago

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Okay, so I can’t stop thinking about the AU where Jaskier somehow ends up working in a Geek Squad-esque department and has to deal with these witchers who bring in mangled/otherwise destroyed phones and the whatnot AU?

Like, the witchers aren’t completely technologically impaired right because the thing about living through who knows how many innovations and whatnot over the years but they really don’t make stuff the way they used to.

(Jaskier maybe sit through a semi-rant on the subject a time or two while processing whatnot for the witchers who have brought him yet another mangled bit of tech orth a fair bit of money and did he know they used to make them of sturdier stuff???)

Anyway.

Geralt is Geralt, all hm’s and hm’s and usually :( although there have been moments of >:( and an especially rare :| which is the closest to the teeny tiny smile Jaskier gets on a good day or when he says something that amuses Geralt enough to visibly show it. (An actual :) is something to be treasured for days afterward and gets Jaskier gentle ribbing from his co-workers because his relationship with the witchers and Geralt in particular is high entertainment for them, but yes.)

Lambert is a delightful asshole who came in all >:(((((((((( after Geralt mentioned there was a new face in the Geek Squad-esque group, one who got him a new phone in spite of the most recently mangled one being out of warranty and suchlike. Didn’t even ask why it smelled of swamp water and may or may not have had bits of swamp...gunk in its insides and anyway.

Jaskier clearly made an impression on Geralt and he’s like but why, though, and comes in intending to be That Customer - and indeed is through the entire ordeal.

Makes Jaskier go over the fine print in the warranty and whatnot when he brings in some horribly mangled bit of shiny tech - a tablet or some such that clearly cannot be saved and is just barely under warranty. A day later and he’d be out of luck, right?

And while it’s covered by the warranty it’s also just old enough the store doesn’t carry it anymore - been discontinued or whatever - which should be fine, right? Jaskier can set Lambert up with the newest model or other equivalent and everything should be fine, but no, no.

Lambert gets this glint in his eye and is like, oh, I’m not going to make things that easy for you, buddy, and goes off on this...whatever about how he liked the version he had - doesn’t want or need the added features on the new one even though they actually are pretty nice, just because he can.

And of course he came in on one of the days Jaskier’s usual supervisor is off and the one who’s had it out for Jaskier since day one is working. Positive Jaskier has done nothing to deserve being moved from overnight stocker to Geek Squad-esque team member and looking for the smallest reason to get him fired. (Or at least kicked back to overnight stocker and then fired for some other reason no one can call them on.)

This supervisor who is hovering, just waiting for Jaskier’s Retail Voice and whatnot to slip so they can pounce and Lambert might not know the details about it all, but it’s pretty damn obvious the supervisor doesn’t like Jaskier.

So he’s like, “Okay, but...” whenever Jaskier brings up a new avenue of convincing the asshole to just say he’ll take the new tablet and gtfo already, pls you asshole, pleasant smile on his face and gritting his teeth the whole time.

Just as the supervisor has had enough of watching Jaskier dealing with this stubborn customer and clearly failing to meet their needs, Lambert is like “Well, I really did like my old tablet, but I suppose this one you’ve been trying to sell me on for nearly half an hour will be adequate, probably,” like Jaskier’s got him at gunpoint or something.

Jaskier is like oh, excellent, sir, what a wonderful choice sir, you are totally my favorite customer sir!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD while also being like >:(((((((((((((((((( to Lamert’s clear amusement and whatnot.

After the deal is done and the bastard’s on his way out, Jaskier is like !!! when he sees Lambert stop in front of the assole!supervisor sure he’s going to complain about Jaskier. To his surprise though, Lambert’s just, all “Oh, he was so helpful! Answered all my questions!” and so on and both Jaskier and the asshole!supervisor are taken aback because that was not what they were expecting?

And then Lambert’s like “I only want to deal with him when I come in here,” to which Jaskier is ah, okay because he gets Lambert’s game now, and the supervisor is just okay, well, I have no control over that unless you come in on days he’s working, but you can bet I’mm make sure it happens if you do, haha.

Which more or less seals Jaskier’s fate on that angle, and absolutely what Lambert intended, and anyway, asshole.

Later on, after they’ve had enough such encounters that Lambert isn’t suspicious of this oddly helpful person at the store where they buy most of their consumer electronics he’s like, >:DDDDDDDDDDDDDD when he comes in nd Jaskier’s like >:(((((((((((((((((((( if you really wanted to help me out here with the asshole!supervisor you’d buy an extended warranty or whatever and Lambert rolls his eyes and scoffs because those are scams and he’s not an idiot, and anyway, he knows Jaskier doesn’ really want to shank him out back behind the store with a rusty knife the way he threatened one time because Lambert is a delight, okay, an utter delight.

Jaskier side-eyes him so hard for that and is like, oh????? So then Lambert won’t mind meeting him out back on his break? Asking for a friend, you know, no other reason. Strangely, Lambert does not.

(Mostly because of that time Geralt fondly told the others about Jaskier shanking a monster out back by the store’s loading dock when Geralt was a little bit bleeding out and in a bad spot and anyway, yeah, no, thanks, Lambert wasn’t born yesterday okay.)

But you know who is an actual delight that Jaskier loves to see come into the store?

Aside from Geralt???

Eskel.

The man is sweet and polite and holds actual conversations (not a slight against Geralt by any means, it’s just. Sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone at work who isn’t a coworker or a horrible customer and so on) and otherwise doesn’t give Jaskier headaches.

(Though there was the one night after closing and rare time when the store would be clsoed the next day for a holiday or whatever so no night crew coming in. Jaskier was trying to get his car to start when Eskel showed up all bloody and half-dead and Jaskier was closest. Also his phone was broken and no way to contact Geralt or anyone else and how was Jaskier at first aid, asking for a friend and all.)

Anyway.

Jaskier’s favorite encounter with Eskel at work is when he calls Jaskier asking if he can help with a tech issue. Mangled laptop and files he wants to get off the harddrive you know, but ~sensitive file that have to do with the witchers and their work.

They all pretend Jaskier knows absolutely nothing about any of it, even though he’s patched all of them up at some point or they’ve saved his life from some monster or other and there really shouldn’t be any pretense about it all?

AND YET.

It’s one of those days where work is slow and the other Geek Squad-esque people are out on house calls and won’t be back for a few hours or called out sick or whatever.

And this, okay, this is something Jaskier convinced one of them to teach him or he taught himself through Google and YouTube and anyway, he can do the file transfer magic stuff for Eskel, no problem.

Tells him as such and to come by before anyone gets back from the calls so he can handle it himself without anyone looking on and all, so he does, right?

Jaskier lets Eskel in the back room with him while he works, and they have a nice little chat and catch up on what’s new in their lives and all that.

Jaskier is like oh, ew, gross because some of the files he salvages for Eskel are photo documentations of past hunts - for science!!1! - but also ooh, what was that hunt like???

(Accidentally clicks on some or some other reason for him seeing what the files are or just file names and anyway, shhhh, let me have this.)

Because curiosity and also songs and Geralt enjoys being difficult on purpose and Jaskier’s never sure how much Lambert tells him is complete bullshit, and anyway. Eskel’s the nice one. Usually.

Also, though, also.

There are so many photos of Geralt and Lambert, Vesemir and Ciri and certain sorceresses and suchlike, and it’s adorable and sweet and wholly expected?

BUT.

To Jaskier’s forever joy and delight there are at least two entire album’s worth of freaking goat pictures.

(Well, okay, goat and horse and whatever other animals these withcers have in their lives and so on.)

It’s adorable as hell and Jaskier makes these little squeaky noises of pure awww at the sight of them, okay, because Lil Bleater and whatever little terrors Eskel has known and clearly adores.

He’s like staring straight ahead and all everything’s fine and normal and whatnot while Jaskier is like omg and she’s so cute and omg Eskel, omg.)

Withcers may not be able to blush or whatever, but you can sure as hell bet he would have been blushing up a damned storm if he could and Jaskier also knows that and is just.

Charmed, okay, he is utterly charmed by this big soft dork and swears he won’t tell anyone even though the people who matter obviously know as well, and anyway, anyway, he gets this soft little smile for it and his heart is like oh, oh no, because Jaskier’s kind of gone on these idiot witchers okay.

(After the discovery of the goat pictures Eskel starts sending new ones to Jaskier who always gets that look people get when presented with adorable pictures of animals and this warm squishy feeling because oh, oh no, indeed and anyway, yes, because idk what pairings/ships i even want this to be anymore but just soft feelings all over the place even with Lambert, the bastard. XD)

#witcher nonsense #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #jaskier's adventures in retail au #long post #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#the witcher #pairings? ships? idk anymore friends pick your own i guess???#geralt x jaskier #eskel x jaskier #mayyybe lambert x jaskier #all of the above???#idk anymore #all jaskier knows is everyone thinks he's the wither whisperer #and he's like lolol omg no #they're all assholes #of varying degrees on different days #eskel's the least assholish one #usually #and lambert's an asshole all day every day #but yeah no #he's fully lost control of his life #and they're to blame for it #he has no idea what to expect when vesesmir comes in #but all he does is take one look at this poor bastard who has to deal with his idiot kids #and is like #would you like to know how to keep them from running roughshod over you?#to which jaskier is like dear god yes #so jaskier has running appointment for brunch with vesemir and other assorted asshole wranglers every weekend #it's lovely

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idreamofplaid · 4 years ago

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It Begins

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking for @spnkinkbingo & Singing Christmas Songs for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Sam x Olivia (OFC); Jensen and John mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Oral (female receiving)

Summary: Olivia is new to the marketing firm owned by John Winchester, and is surprised to be assigned to an important ad campaign for a high profile client. She feels like she’s in over her head with the work, but she’s in even deeper with the boss’ son, Sam.

Word Count:3781

A/N: This is Part 1 of a Series called Surrender to the Truth. It’s an AU mash up of RPF and SPN characters. I’m also playing with time. Imagine Season 8 Sam and Jensen a year or so into the future.

It was beta’d by the wonderful @fangirlxwritesx67. Thanks Viv for your patience with all my questions, your enthusiasm for this project, your thorough reading that really made me think about what I was doing, and the series title.

Why were Mondays always like this? Olivia found it hard to decide what to wear after a weekend of being relaxed in pajamas and denim. Traffic was predictably the worst, even more so because of the holidays, and if there was any day she was going to forget and leave her coffee on the kitchen counter; it was Monday.

She made it to work on time with only a couple of minutes to spare. This was only her second week on the job at the city’s most up and coming marketing firm and being late was not the way to make a good impression on her new boss. John Winchester was a man with exacting standards and high expectations.

Her first stop was the coffee pot in the breakroom. There was no way her creativity was going to start flowing without caffeine. Cup in hand, Olivia made her way to her office. It was a respectable office, larger than the little more than a closet sized space she’d had in her last office. This one even had a small window. These things might seem insignificant, but Olivia had worked hard for them, and to her they were badges of success.

Olivia had barely had two sips of her vanilla creamer laced coffee when she had a visitor in her office, the kind of visitor who doesn’t knock: Sam Winchester. She hadn’t been here long, but she had been filled in on Sam. He was practically legendary among the women of the office, and some of the men. She took another sip of her coffee to hide the fact that her mouth had fallen open. This guy lived up to the hype.

He was wearing a white dress shirt, minus the jacket, and the way his shoulders and chest filled out that shirt was nothing short of sinful. His tie formed a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, and the face above that tie was Greek god handsome. He was a Greek god with dimples.

As he walked across the room, his every move exuded power and privilege, without the arrogance. Holy fuck. Could a man be more attractive?

He put a folder down on the edge of Olivia’s desk. Work. Right. He expected her brain to focus on what his family was paying her for.

She sat down to take a look at what was so important Sam Winchester himself had delivered it. When he spoke, his voice was just as delicious as the rest of him.

“New account. Dad wants you to take it.” He sat down smoothly on the edge of her desk to watch her look through the file like he owned the place, which he basically did. She finished looking through the file then looked up at Sam, more confused than ever. She was the new kid here. Why would they give her something this high profile, as in Hollywood high profile?

It wasn’t her most impressive moment or the most professional thing she’d ever said, but she blurted out, “Why me?”

Sam rested his hand on his thigh. The way his long fingers spread out over it wasn’t helping her concentrate or wrap her head around this situation. “Because you’re from Texas. Gives you insight into the culture, the vibe, the feel of it.” He stood and adjusted his tie, drawing your attention to his hands again. “This Ackles guy is a personal friend of my dad’s, so make it good.” As he left, he looked back over his shoulder. “Besides, everyone likes beer; you’ll come up with something.”

She said to the empty room, after he closed the door behind him, “No, actually I don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a couple of minutes after Sam left, all she could do was stare at the nicely framed but generic artwork on her wall. The Winchesters were trusting her with a huge account for some reason, and she was scared completely out of her mind that she was going to screw it up and ruin her future with this company, along with her career in advertising. Why did it have to be beer? Finally, she opened the file and spread the pictures of the brewery and the photos of its famous owner across her desk.

She picked up one of the glossy pictures of Jensen Ackles in all his male model perfection and took a good look at it. He was just as gorgeous as Sam, but his look was distinctly different. His eyes were a clear green, and they held a deep intensity. Those eyes were captivating in a photograph. What would they be like in person? She allowed herself to indulge in that fantasy for a few seconds then shook her head to break the spell. She needed some Bailey’s in her coffee. Excellent idea. She was already walking a perilous line at this new job, so why the hell not?

Olivia swiveled her chair and opened the cabinet behind her, reaching into the back to grab the bottle of liquor where she’d stashed it. She poured a generous amount into her cup, hoping it would calm her nerves. With that in mind, she turned on some music. The soothing notes of an instrumental version of “White Christmas” floated from the speakers.

She closed her eyes and let the taste of the coffee and the Irish cream sit on her tongue. This had been one of her favorite Christmas songs when she was growing up. It always took her to a fantasy wonderland, a place where life was ideal and Christmas cottages had perfectly trimmed trees with beautiful presents piled beneath them, fireplaces alive with glowing fires, stockings hung on the mantel, and snowflakes falling gently outside. Living in Texas, snow had been a magical and rarely seen event.

That long cherished holiday dream filled her mind and calmed her. She started singing along with the music. ...just like the ones I used to know. After a stanza or so, she opened her eyes to focus once again on the pictures of the brewery in front of her. A snowy Christmas was her fantasy, but she had a job to do; that was her reality.

By the end of the day when Sam came back to check on her progress, Olivia had practically nothing to show him. It would do no good to try and stall or hide just how little she had managed to accomplish. He was her supervisor on this project, and he was here to see how much progress she’d made.

He flipped through the work she’d done that day. His expression was unreadable, but his words were clear enough. “The Taste of Texas? Not exactly original is it?” He paused and cut his eyes over to her, then dropped them back to the papers he was holding. “The drawings aren’t bad though. We can probably use some of these hill country sketches. Maybe a logo design.” He closed the file and tossed it back on her desk.

“Do you know what you need?” Her silence said she didn’t. “Inspiration.”

She put her hand on the folder lying on her desk, the one that represented her failed day of work. “Where do I get that exactly?” She was unable to keep a hint of exasperation out of her voice.

He flashed her those unbelievable dimples and winked. “Follow me.” Sam took her to his office. It was easily four times the size of hers with an entire wall of windows that revealed a breathtaking view of the city, the lights from the skyline competing with the white lights on the tastefully decorated Christmas tree that adorned his office. It was opulent and sleek, a space befitting the heir to the growing empire.

She allowed herself to indulge in the breathtaking view of the skyline for a few seconds before commenting, “It’s an incredible view, but I don’t see anything about a family business in Texas out there.”

“Your inspiration isn’t out there; it’s in here.” His voice drew her eyes away from the magnificent view. Sam walked to his mini fridge and pulled out a six pack. He held it up. “A little Cosmic Cowboy from Family Business Beer Company. How can you create an impactful and memorable campaign without sampling the product?”

Sam twisted the top off a bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip of it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those people who could describe the taste of beer. It was cold. It was beer. That was all she had. She was not a connoisseur. How was she ever going to do this ad campaign? She didn’t even like beer.

Sam had been watching her reaction carefully. Olivia didn’t have a poker face, though she’d tried to hide her reaction. It didn’t slip by him that she wasn’t comfortable with this beer thing.

“Not your favorite then?” He took a drink from his bottle. “Taste it again.”

He was the boss’ son, effectively her boss right now, and this was her job; but she got the feeling she would have done whatever he asked even if that hadn’t been the case. She took another sip, and Sam coached her through it. “Think about what you’re drinking; savor it. Just like wine, beer has notes; and they’re all different.”

She took one more drink. “What am I supposed to be tasting?” She’d never been good with wine either, but once someone explained there was blackberry or oak or whatever in it; she could pick up on that. She needed Sam to tell her what she should be tasting.

“Do you taste how it’s substantial but still light?” She took another sip and nodded. “It’s the grapefruit and pineapple that make it light; the pine in it gives it a little something more.” When he said it, she could taste it. She could taste it all.

Sam’s office had a fireplace, not like the one in her fantasy Christmas cottage, but when he picked up a remote and clicked it bringing the flames to life, it was cozy nevertheless. Sam took off his tie and tossed it on one of the upholstered chairs in front of the fire. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Absentmindedly, Olivia took another sip of her beer while she watched him.

Sam sat down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his back leaning against the leather sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. He put what was left of the six pack of beer down beside him and patted the floor on his other side, inviting her to join him. Olivia lowered herself next to him. She was thankful her pencil skirt wasn’t so tight that it didn’t allow some freedom of movement, and she tried not to stare at the way the firelight danced over his golden skin. He caught her looking at his strong forearms, exposed below the rolled white cuffs of his shirt. Sam smiled, a flirty and suggestive sort of smile. He finished the last of his beer, and popped open another.

Olivia was slower to finish hers, but she was beginning to warm up to the taste. Perhaps it was something you had to acquire, or maybe the company you were in made all the difference. Beer might be okay after all.

He asked, “What do you think of it now?”

“I can taste everything you said.” The crackle of the fire, the lights from the Christmas tree, and the skyline in the background created a perfect storm of romantic atmosphere. Olivia noticed how Sam’s eyes were a beautiful honeyed brown, dappled with green and gold. His lips looked incredibly soft in contrast to the hard line of his jaw. He caught her starting again, this time at his mouth.

He took her empty bottle and slotted it back into the cardboard square where it had originally been and put what was left of his beer in the empty square beside it. Sam turned back to her and leaned in closer. He took her face into his hand and looked into her eyes for a long second or two before he lowered his mouth to hers.

The way he kissed was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. His tongue was sure but gentle as it circled hers. He had complete control of her through what his mouth was doing. A wet spot was forming in her panties, her body responding to him. At the same time his hand was cradling her face while his fingers moved slowly back and forth through her hair, massaging her scalp and melting her under his touch. He could do anything to her. She was eager for it.

He broke the kiss, and now he was holding both sides of her head in his enormous hands. His lips were still just inches from hers. She could feel his breath when he asked, “What do you taste now?”

This man could make her breathless. He was either meant for her, or he was excellent at reading her actions and responses. His attention was completely on her, waiting for her response.

“I...can still taste the beer, but the way you taste makes it better.” It wasn’t eloquent. For someone who worked with words to pull the maximum effect from them, he could make her forget how to use them properly.

Sam kissed her again, hands roaming down her back and stopped just above her waist. “You know what else might really inspire you?”

Olivia pressed her body so tightly against his she could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach through his shirt. It made her wetter. “I have some ideas.”

He took off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Then let’s get those creative...juices flowing.” The blouse she was wearing was form fitting. Sam’s gaze traveled over her breasts before his eyes locked onto hers.

A spark traveled between them. Lust? Need? Want? Whatever it was, the sexual tension hung in the air for a moment before their lips crashed together.

Sam lowered her to the floor while he pulled her shirt up. He broke the kiss to tear it over her head and throw it out of the way. Now it was his turn. She took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it out of his pants, then did the same on the other side. He propped himself over her on his hands while she unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She ran her hand across his chest and over his shoulder. What he’d been hiding beneath that expensive shirt was impressive.

Sam smiled down at her. “You like?”

“Very much,” she answered while he took off her bra and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He teased it with his tongue until she was arching her back and raising her hips off the floor.

Sam sucked hard on the nipple in his mouth before pulling off it. “Do you want more?” Her eyes closed and her lips parted, a small moan escaping from them.

He unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs, then turned his attention to her lace covered mound. Sam rubbed his fingers over her panty covered core. “Already so wet.” He pushed her panties aside and swiped his fingers through her folds. Then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices from them. His eyes bore into hers. “Tastes so good.”

He tore her panties from her body to gain access to what he wanted; she heard the sound of silk and lace ripping. Sam’s hand felt huge on her thighs as he pushed them wide apart. He held them there, and his tongue found her clit. He sucked it the same way he’d worked at her nipple.

She was raising and lowering her hips beneath him, fucking nothing and needing to be filled until Sam swirled his tongue all the way down her slit to her opening and thrust it inside. She wasn’t empty anymore, and it felt incredible. He moved his tongue in and out of her, fucking her on it until she was writhing and grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

She wanted to scream but was still aware enough to know they were in the office building. So, with some effort, she held it in. But when he added the pad of his thumb circling over her clit while he continued to thrust into her with his tongue, she started to whimper and moan. Her thighs were shaking when she came on his face. He licked and stroked her through her orgasm until she went still beneath him.

Sam didn’t move for a few seconds, then he raised himself up so he could see her reaction to what he’d done to her, how it had affected her. Olivia smiled up at him, and Sam returned the smile while he unbuckled, unzipped, and pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. If she’d thought what was under his shirt was stunning, what was under his pants was better. His cock was absolutely magnificent. It stood against his stomach long and thick, resting on his well defined abs. Sam caught her looking at him yet again, and his smile got bigger. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam lowered himself from his kneeling position until he was sitting on the floor. He pushed his pants farther down his legs to get them out of the way. He extended a hand to her, and she took it. He settled her on his lap. Olivia wrapped her legs around him. He looked at her with those beautiful eyes that combined colors in so many ways that seemed to change from moment to moment. “Do you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to say no.”

She squeezed her thighs into his sides. She was imagining the feel of his cock stretching her open. From the looks of him, it was going to be a tight fit. “I absolutely want to go through with this.”

That was all he needed to hear. He took a condom from the wallet in the pants pooling around his ankles and rolled it down over his length. Sam put his hands on each side of her waist and lifted her up, lining her up over the tip of his cock.

When he started to lower her down onto his shaft, she rolled her head forward. Her hair brushed over his shoulder as he continued to slowly ease her down onto his length, giving her time to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated inside her, he began to roll his hips. Oliva imitated his movements, rolling her hips with the same rhythm.

She raised her head because she wanted to see into Sam’s eyes while he thrust up into her. There was something in the depths of them that she couldn’t quite define, something she wanted to figure out, something she wanted to understand and know better. He covered her mouth and kissed her with an intensity she could feel through her entire body.

His tongue was circling hers, tasting her, when she came again. Olivia clenched around him and her body spasmed in waves as her orgasm crested and blended into another. Sam kissed her all the way through it. She went limp in his arms, and he kept moving.

She could feel his hands on her and the warmth of the flame from the fire on her skin. She could feel the way his cock throbbed, still buried deep inside her, and she could taste him. He pulled away from her mouth and buried his face in her neck when he came.

“Olivia.” He said her name once, just the one word, and it struck her to the core. Olivia regretted that she couldn’t feel his hot release painting her insides. It felt like some part of him was being held back from her, and she wanted it all.

Whatever magic she’d felt hearing the sound of her name on his lips dissipated with the reality of Sam pulling himself from her body and carefully removing the condom. He pulled his pants back up before walking over to his desk to dispose of it in the wastebasket there. Olivia imagined it wouldn’t be the first time the cleaning service found one of those in his trash.

What was she doing? She just screwed the boss’ son in his office. She was a total cliche. Her mind told her she should feel like a slut, but she didn’t. She refused to be ashamed of what she’d done. The sex had been mind blowing; her body had never responded to any man that way. Sam had stirred something in her physically, but it had gone beyond that. It was something she would examine later and try to define, but now all she could think of was escaping the overwhelming thoughts and feelings consuming her. Hastily, she grabbed her clothes and was in the process of putting them back on when Sam returned.

He took her hand and charmed her with his boyish dimples and his eyes that had turned a soft gray like the color of a sky lit by a silvery moon. Still, it was his words that got to her the most. “Hey, don’t be in such a hurry to leave; you’re going to make me feel cheap.” He was flirting with her. Guys like him moved smoothly through situations like this as though they were born to it, and in a way they were. Still, part of her hoped he was being at least a little sincere.

Sam hadn’t let go of her hand. “Stay with me. We can watch the fire, enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree.” This was a fling, right? It was a one night stand with the irresistible guy at work. “Plan our trip to Texas.” What did he just say? “A six pack is just an introduction to the business. What you need is to see the brewery.”

Sam sat down on the sofa, and Olivia sank down beside him. She lowered her guard a little and let some of the bliss she was feeling wash over her. The ambience created by the light from the tree and the fire enhanced her mood; both the light and her mood seemed somehow softer now.

“We can take the company jet. Ring in the new year in Austin.” Listening to him, Olivia had a most happy thought. Maybe this wasn’t a one night thing after all.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @julesthequirky

#spnkinkbingo #spnchristmasbingo #sam smut #sam x ofc #sam series

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 5 years ago

Text

interruptions

summary: four times Tyson tried kissing you and the one time he actually did.

warnings: drinking, mentions of puking

word count: 5.3k

he didn't

The bar was absolutely crowded, and that made your job of Designated Driver and supervisor of the group that much harder. Your friends had tried to stick together, but three twenty-two year olds in a bar get separated easily when two of them desperately wanted to let loose.

You had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors that decided who was supposed to be in charge, and that’s how you ended up sipping a water, perched on a barstool, gaze flicking through the crowd to spot your friends. You were keeping tabs on them from afar, but giving them space as each had found a dance partner. Becca, one of the more wild of the group, raised her glass in your direction and drank, a silent cheers as she danced on a guy. You laughed at her, copying her actions with your water as she grinned. She was the reason everyone had been dragged out tonight, having decided that she was over her ex and wanting to put herself back out there.

If the look on her face told you anything, she was having a good time. So was the large blonde behind her, and if your hockey knowledge was as good as you thought it was, your friend was pressed up on Mikko Rantanen of the Colorado Avalanche.

Knowing that one player was at the bar, it was far less surprising than it would have been when another slid in beside you at the counter to order another drink.

“Hi.” The player, Tyson Jost, you were certain, said as he turned to you, the tips of his ears burning red. You smiled, turning on your stool to face the newcomer. “What’re you, uh, doing here by yourself?” He winced at the way the words fell past his lips, but you just giggled mercilessly.

“Have you been watching me?” You raised a brow, smile wide and evidence of your teasing. You weren't certain where your bravery had come from, but the adorable way he stuttered over his words to try and come back from what he had said, not wanting to appear creepy. “Just messing. I’m the babysitter tonight.” You gestured loosely across the bar, cataloging where both of your friends were and making sure they were safe.

“That’s not fun.” He chuckled and you shrugged, smile not once leaving your face. “I’m Tyson, by the way.” You gave your name easily, opting not to bring up how you already knew that. You didn't want him to think you were one of those people only out for the fame that comes with being seen with a professional athlete, because that was the furthest thing from what you wanted. “Are you always the babysitter?”

“No, but I’m apparently not very good at rock, paper, scissors.” You grinned, laughing when an excited look grew on his face.

“We can practice, ready?” Tyson asked, hand already in a fist and resting on his palm before you could even agree. You laughed at his adorable eagerness, setting your drink down and mimicking his position. “Okay, rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“I win!” You cheered, your paper beating his rock. He pouted at first, but then it faded to a smile and you new he was just faking. “It's psychology, really. Men usually pick rock first.”

“How do you know that?” He chuckled, leaning on against the bar. He sounded genuinely interested, which was something that you weren't used to hearing from guys you met at bars.

“I looked it up, I lose way too often.” You explained, your own blush coating your cheeks at the dorky confession. Tyson didn't seem to mind, if the way he laughed earnestly at you was any indication.

“That’s cute.” He said, and when you looked to him with a grin you spotted the redness of his ears from before was creeping up his neck and tinging his cheeks. “I mean, uh—”

“Do you want to dance?” You cut him off, his rambling adorable but you only seemed to be able to be brave in quick spurts. Tyson nodded quickly, his grin wide as you led him to the dance floor, empty drinks abandoned on the bar counter.

As you danced with Tyson, you fell in easy conversation with him and learned more about him. He fessed up to being a professional hockey player, and other than you explaining that you were a fan of the sport, there wasn't much talk about it.

“So are you having fun now, babysitter?” Tyson teased, brow quirked up and a grin on his face as you had your hands clasped behind his neck. His hands were placed innocently on your waist, the two of you swaying way off beat to the pop song the bar was playing.

“Never been better.” You replied cheekily. You had honestly enjoyed your time with Tyson more than you’d like to admit, and it was scary how you almost instantly felt a connection with him. You had been laughing the entire time you had been around him, and you silently hoped that you’d be able to see him again after tonight.

Tyson didn't say anything to your somewhat flirty response, instead he simply grinned down at you, fingers flexing against your side as he gripped you just a bit tighter. You could see it in his eyes, the attraction that you just knew was mirrored in your own. Then, his gaze flicked down to your lips, and you just smiled, leaning a tad bit into him so he'd get the message. He did, head tipping down slowly to meet you, and—

And then you caught sight of someone over Tyson’s shoulder, which had you pushing his shoulder and he immediately backed off, a worried look on his face.

Becca was climbing onto the counter, your other friend Lizzie half-cheering and half-trying to get her to come down. Mikko was still with your them, but his hands were extended to try and steady Becca.

“Oh, my god.” You muttered, shooting Tyson an apologetic look before taking off to deal with your friends, him hot on your tail. “What the hell!” You hissed, tugging on Lizzie’s arm to try and get her to explain what had happened in the twenty minutes you had been distracted with Tyson.

“Hey! There you are!” Lizzie cheered, words slurred just enough that you knew she had been drinking. You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to Becca who was fully standing on the bar top now. You were only glad that she had opted for jeans instead of a skirt, saving her some embarrassment.

“Becca, get down.” You ordered, rolling your eyes when she simply pouted out her bottom lip and took a sip of her drink. Tyson was standing beside you, talking to his teammate who was grinning. Apparently, you and Tyson were the only ones that didn't find the whole situation amusing, and you shared a look of annoyance and he shrugged, grimacing as Becca started singing loudly.

“I can get her down, if you want?” He asked, and you eyed Becca carefully, nodding as you realized that the running Barstool joke was true, drunk girls on elevated surfaces never ended well.

You couldn’t help but grin as Tyson wrapped his arms around Becca’s legs and tipped her over his shoulder in order to get her down. Even as she pitched forward, she didn't spill her drink, and you had to give her props for that.

Once she was on the ground, she flung an arm around your shoulders, and you wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her and make sure she didn't try to slip away.

“Have you met Mikko? This is Mikko. He plays for that hockey team you like.” Becca rambled, gesturing between you and the large blonde widely, the man in question just smiling widely at her. You rolled your eyes with a grin, but greeted Mikko politely.

“I think it’s time we head out, yeah?” You questioned, but you weren’t leaving room for argument. Lizzie cheered from behind you, calling out something along of the lines of ‘dibs on shotgun!’ that had you rolling your eyes in good fun. Your gaze fell to Tyson, and you smiled softly at him as you let Becca slip from your grip to exchange numbers with Mikko and say their goodbyes. “Sorry about this.” You mumbled, but Tyson just shook his head with a grin that mirrored yours.

“Babysitter duties call, eh?”

and didn't

You had thought that after that night in the bar, things between you and Tyson would progress romantically, but he never made a move, so you fell into an easy friendship with him.

Becca had better luck than you, though, and that's why you kept seeing Tyson as regularly as you did. And now, you were walking through the apartment belonging to the one and only Mikko Rantanen, wondering if he actually knew everybody that was at his for a good time.

You spotted Cale first, Becca having ditched you the moment she spotted Mikko and you didn't blame, but you were glad to spot a familiar face. You slid in beside Cale as he spoke to Sam, and you smiled at both boys and greeted them with a group hug, your arms wrapping around their necks to pull them close to you.

“Buzzed already?” Cale teased, smirking in that way that made him seem so innocent yet like he knew all of your darkest secrets. Sam turned to pour you a drink, but his laugh was clear over the loud music.

“I may have pregamed a little too hard.” You grinned sheepishly, curling your fingers around the cup Sam offered you. You thanked him silently, wincing at just how strong he made it.

“Have you seen the rest of the guys?” Cale asked, and you shook your head, sipping once more on the drink. Your eyes went wide, and you shoved the red head’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Congrats on the goal yesterday! I totally forgot tell you that!” You cheered, grinning at the way Cale’s cheeks turned just a bit more rosy on the compliment. You were prepared to let it go for the moment, but Sam wasn’t so merciful and started pinching Cale’s cheeks and cooing as another solid body slid in next to you, hand heavy on your lower back. You jumped at the sudden contact, but when you turned to face the newcomer you relaxed.

“Didn’t realize I was that scary.” Tyson teased, grinning down at you in that easy way that only he seemed to be able to muster. You didn't respond at first, only rolling your eyes at him to try and regain some of your composure.

“Sorry I’m a bit jumpy when some random guy touches me.” You shot back, just buzzed enough to the let words fall past your lips but still too sober to realize your mistake. Cale and Sam shared a look after they spotted Tyson’s hand on your back, the brunette forward retracting his touch like he had been burned.

“Alrighty then.” Sam murmured into his cup as he took a sip, the air around you all suddenly feeling tense. You copied Sam’s actions, taking a bigger drink than you usually would have and wincing at the burn as you swallowed.

But luckily, you found an exit strategy in the shape of a six-foot three Swede named Andre waving you over to be his pong partner. You had never exactly been the best at the game, but you weren't going to stick around in the awkward atmosphere created by your thoughtless announcement. You weren't sure why Tyson had reacted the way he did, but your mind was just foggy enough to not question it. You slipped away, ignoring the looks all three boys were giving you.

For a while, you didn't see much of Tyson, other than the occasional glimpse of him through the crowd as he interacted with his friends. Andre claimed that you weren't a good pong partner, and you couldn't argue, seeing as you had tipped back your fair share of red solo cups. After a third straight loss, Andre kicked you out, somehow convincing the people at the other end of the table to let him stay. You pouted at the Swede, but then you locked eyes with Tyson across the room and he nodded his head towards the empty balcony with a small smile, and suddenly you couldn’t remember why you had been annoyed.

You maneuvered your way through the crowd, sighing softly as you stepped outside. You were flush with warmth from so many people crammed into Mikko’s apartment, so the cool air felt nice on your skin. Tyson was already outside, leaning back against the railing as he watched you shut the sliding door behind you.

“Hey, haven't seen you all night.” He commented softly and you shrugged, crossing the balcony to stand beside him.

“Listen, I don't know what happened earlier, but—” You started, not sure where you were going to take the sentiment but felt like you needed to address it.

“Don’t worry about it, the boys like to tease.” He waved you off, and you nodded slowly. He seemed to be able to tell that you weren't convinced, and you weren't, because it seemed like something more, so he turned to face you. “I promise that you did nothing wrong.”

You nodded, then, convinced by the honest sincerity in not only his eyes but his tone. You turned towards him too, looking up at him to find a nearly unreadable expression on his face. The air shifted, but unlike earlier, it wasn’t a bad shift. It felt like that moment all those weeks ago at that bar, right before you spotted Becca on the bar counter and you were dancing.

And then suddenly he was so close, and he was leaning even closer—so much so that you didn't mind that you left your coat inside even though the Denver night air had been chilling you to the bone just moments earlier. One of your hands fell on to his bicep, squeezing and urging him a fraction of an inch closer. You could feel his breath on your face, and—

And then you lurched to the side, hand clasped over your mouth as you rushed back into the party to find a bathroom.

Apparently, you had been drinking more than you had thought, and Sam’s drink was stronger than you would have usually liked. Your nerves were all over the place with how close you had been to kissing Tyson to begin with, and your stomach had been churning from the moment you walked onto the balcony. But you were full on nauseous now, ready to become very well acquainted with Mikko’s toilet.

And as you left Tyson on the balcony, you knew one thing—Sam was not allowed to pour for you again.

and didn’t

You weren't sure how you managed to snag an invitation, but you did, and you were sitting at the table for a dinner party at the Landeskog household. Tyson on your left, Becca on your right. Gabe sat across from you, gaze flicking between you and his younger teammate seated next to you, smirk ever present on his lips.

You raised a brow at him, and he made a face that screamed ‘don’t be dumb’. That had you blushing, because you figured that meant Tyson had told him what had happened at Mikko’s party the week before. You couldn’t see the teasing look Gabe was sure to send your way as a result of your reaction, because your plate was suddenly very interesting.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” Mel asked, you, calling your name to get your attention before asking the question. Your head snapped towards her, and you just knew from the look on face her face that Gabe had put her up to it. Or at the very least, they were coconspirators.

“No, uh, I’m not.” You stuttered, elbowing Becca as she laughed loudly at you. For whatever reason, you couldn't get yourself to look at Tyson, but that didn't stop the rest of the guys from grinning at him. “This chicken is good.” You mumbled, speaking into your cup as you took a sip.

Apparently there was some humor in the situation, because all the boys that had been listening broke out in raucous laughter.

Thankfully, the topic of conversation shifted after, and you were able to enjoy the rest of your dinner in peace. Still, you couldn’t find the strength to look at Tyson, the small distance between you feeling charged with an unknown energy.

After, you helped Mel clean off the table as the boys gathered on the couches and cooed over Linnea. It was an adorable sight, but the moment Tyson was handed the baby, you had to leave the room for your sanity. You offered to help Mel with the dishes, but she refused and that’s how you found yourself perched on the counter beside the dishwasher, wineglass in hand as you chatted with the captain’s wife.

It wasn’t long before Tyson entered the kitchen, still chuckling at something one of the guys said, a few empty glasses in his hands. You had thought that Mel was on your side, but once Tyson was far enough into the room she gave you a wicked grin and shut the sink off.

“You two don’t mind finishing up, do you?” She didn't wait for an answer, because as soon as she dried her hands she was out of the room. You smiled at Tyson, because you didn't really know what else to do, and just as you were about to slide off the counter to take Mel’s spot he moved in front of the sink to rinse the glasses.

“How’s work?” Tyson asked, sounding genuinely interested and it caught you off guard for a moment. The question made everything seem so domestic, like this was your house, and you and Tyson were cleaning up after dinner together before heading off to bed.

“Do you really wanna know?” You questioned, a bit of lightness in your tone that had the corners of Tyson’s lips turning upwards. He nodded, picking up a plate and you took a sip of your wine, launching into a story about your annoying coworker that you really needed to get off your chest. Tyson listened, nodding along as you spoke and laughing incredulously at some of the things you told him. By the end of your story, he was leaning backwards against the kitchen island across from you. “But how is your work?”

“Oh you know, gotta get pucks in deep, tighten up our defense.” He joked, and his response caused you to groan, tilting your head back in mock annoyance.

“That is the most generic answer! Come on, I’m not an interviewer.” You grinned, and when you looked forward again, Tyson had pushed himself off the edge of the counter and was standing a foot away from you.

And there was another shift in the air, and suddenly Tyson had moved to stand between your knees, hands falling on the counter on the outside of your legs. You leaned back on your palms, never breaking the eye contact you had with him.

“Work is good.” He mumbled, and in all honesty you had already forgotten you had been talking about that. His smile was soft and easy, and you couldn’t help but notice his gaze drop to your lips and then back up. For the third time, you thought that he was going to kiss you, and you were more than willing to comply.

It was just as he started leaning in, you tilting your head up to hopefully meet him halfway, that of course someone had to interrupt.

Nate came barreling into the kitchen, still yelling at someone over his shoulder. When he spotted you, his eyes went wide and you were quick to push Tyson away. You were positive that Tyson was jumping back from you with just as much force, because there was no way you would’ve had the power to send him across the kitchen the way he went flying. The blonde didn't comment on anything at first, just looking between you and his teammate with a look that read trouble.

“I��ll leave you guys to it.” Nate’s smirk was clear as day, and he started to turn to leave the room, but you had already slipped off the counter and were out of the room before he could take two steps. Your face was flushed, and you ignored Becca’s confused look as you shoved yourself between her and Andre on the couch, making sure that Tyson would have to sit on the opposite side of the room as you. Your heart was pounding so heavily, you were surprised you could hear Nate’s booming laugh from the kitchen over the sound of your blood pumping.

These close calls were going to kill you.

and didn't

JT was supposed to come over and join you and Tyson for a movie night, but he had bailed through text five minutes ago. You were considering canceling on Tyson, or at least giving him the option to back out, but he was at your door before you could draft a text. With everything that had been happening with you and Tyson, how you would both get close and then back off, you wondered if it would be a good idea to even have him over.

But then you opened your apartment door and were met with his obnoxiously adorable goofy grin, and you felt your resolve crumbling.

“Where’s JT?” He asked, dropping unceremoniously onto your couch like he belonged there, which was doing nothing to stop the racing of your heart.

“He, uh, can’t make it.” You stuttered, kicking yourself for doing so. It was just Tyson sitting on your couch, one of the dorkiest guys you knew, who always could draw a laugh or a smile out of you no matter how bad your day. But he was also Tyson, the incredibly attractive boy that you never could seem to stop thinking about. “We can reschedule, if you want.”

“No, I'm good. Unless you had something you needed to do?” Tyson checked in, and you shook your head, sinking down to sit beside him. His arm was on the couch behind you, and you grabbed the remote to pull up a movie.

It was about halfway through the action movie Tyson had begged to watch that you realized you were in trouble. You had somehow found yourself cuddled into his side, the blanket that usually was draped on the back of the couch thrown across yours and Tyson’s leg, a mostly empty bowl of popcorn resting on the cushion beside him. His arm, which had previously been innocently placed behind your head on the couch, had fallen around your shoulders and was using it to hold you against him.

You weren’t exactly feeling all too troubled, though, when you turned to glance up at Tyson to find him already looking at you.

“Pay attention, you picked it.” You teased, though you were certain the you never wanted him to look away from you again. His eyes were soft, and though he usually looked like a total sweetheart, his hair seemed just a bit more fluffy and curly. He was the exact picture of a perfect cuddle buddy, and it kind of made your mind a little fuzzy.

“I’ve seen it before.” Tyson said easily, bringing you back to the moment. He was grinning at you, and his bright smile made your surroundings melt away.

Oh yeah, you were absolutely screwed.

“Then why’d you pick it?” You breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You felt like kicking yourself, wondering why you were making it so obvious that Tyson was affecting you so much, and all he was doing was smiling at you.

“Knew I wouldn't be able to focus around you, didn't want to start a movie I’d never seen and then not remember what it was about.” He explained as if that wasn't the exact answer your heart had hoped he would give. It was adorable, and so Tyson, that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Smooth.” You teased. Tyson’s free hand—the one that wasn’t around your shoulders—fell to your knee. You hadn't even realized that you had curled into him, legs hanging into his lap until his touch brought attention to them.

“I know, right?” You chuckled at his goofiness, and there it was—that dreaded shift in the air that had you leaning just slightly into him more. And, like all the times before, he was leaning in too, unable to tear his gaze from you.

And then it happened.

A knock on your door startled you, surprisingly loud in how quiet the apartment had been the moment before. You jumped away from Tyson, not reading too much into the way he dropped his head against the back of your couch with a groan.

“Sorry.” You muttered, though you weren't sure what you were apologizing for exactly. Tyson just shook his head, watching as you climbed off of the couch to answer the knock.

On the other side of the door stood Mr. Davidson, the eighty-something year old who lived in the apartment across from you. You smiled politely at him, his presence, although an interruption to your time with Tyson, was not a nuisance as he and his wife checked up on you once you first moved into the place by yourself.

“I hate to even ask you this.” Mr. Davidson started after you exchanged pleasantries, smiling sheepishly at you as he stood in your doorway. “But my grandkids are supposed to Skype me in half an hour, and I can’t figure out how to set it up. Would you mind helping me?” And really, you couldn't say no to your sweet elderly neighbor, whose wife had on more than one occasion brought you baked goods.

“Of course, Mr. Davidson.” You smiled, shooting Tyson an apologetic look before following your elderly neighbor out of your apartment and into his across the hall.

Maybe someday, you and Tyson wouldn't be interrupted.

but then he did

Game days were always a favorite of yours, and especially since that it was a home game, everyone was practically buzzing. You hadn’t been to a ton the Avalanche games, unable to buy tickets and unwilling to let the boys spend their money on you, but tonight was different. Mel had insisted you come with them, and you really couldn’t say no to Mel.

She and Becca arrived at your door at the same time, and you greeted them both with a hug. They both looked like they were hiding something, devious grins on their faces.

“Like our jerseys?” Becca asked, grinning at you. You raised a brow at you, but nonetheless nodded. She was wearing Mikko’s jersey, the name Rantanen across the back meant you should have been teasing her, but Mel wasn’t letting you flip the script. She was wearing Gabe’s number, and even Linnea had a mini Landeskog sweater of her own.

“What about it?” You groaned, rather they get it over with—whatever it was. Mel laughed loudly, bouncing Linnea on her hip as she stepped further into your apartment. It was then that you realized that Becca had something behind her back, and her smirk widened when you spotted she was hiding something.

“Well,” she started, dragging out the word only to increase your dread. “Mikko told me to give you this.” Her hand came out in front, and you recognized the colors of it immediately—and the number.

“Oh, no.” You started, raising your hands in defense but Becca had other plans, the jersey being tossed in your arms.

“Oh, yes.” Mel chimed in, and that seemed to be the end of it. She really was the captain’s wife, because even you felt like you needed to follow her orders.

And that was how you ended up at the game wearing Tyson’s jersey.

The boys played well, coming out on top with a 4-1 win over the Capitals. Tyson had scored the final goal, and Becca made sure to tease you endlessly for the way you had cheered so loudly for him.

Now, you were waiting outside the locker room for the boys to come out. Some people were making plans to go out after, and you were torn between joining in on the fun at the bar or enjoying a good nights sleep when Mel elbowed you harshly.

You turned to look at her and see what she needed, but instead your gaze got caught on a certain number seventeen who stopped dead in his tracks after seeing you, his jaw dropped slightly as he stood ten feet away. You felt yourself start to blush under his gaze, but then he shook his head slightly to himself before heading straight towards you.

You really didn't have a moment to catch your breath before his large hands were cupping both sides of your face and connecting his lips to yours. He caught you off guard, but it only took you a moment to collect yourself and return the kiss with just as much fervor. Your hands gripped the lapels of his suit, tugging him just that much closer. By the time you did pull back, you were both breathless.

“What was that for?” You questioned, a little embarrassed by the way you were panting slightly.

“I was kinda waiting for the right moment, but then it never happened.” He explained with a shrug, hands dropping from your face to your waist. “Guess I got tired of waiting.”

“You guess?” You teased, because that was an understatement. You had never been kissed so sweetly and so soundly before, it was a huge contrast to how unsure of himself he sounded now.

“I didn't want to read things wrong and then ruin our friendship.”

“Tys, I wanted you to kiss me the first night we met.” His eyes widened comically, and JT, who had been standing nearby being his usual nosy self, laughed loudly at the look on Tyson’s face.

“And then you had to play babysitter.” Tyson nodded, realization finally settling over his features and you nodded, thinking back to that night at the bar. How you had been so close to kissing then, and at Mikko’s party, again at Gabe’s dinner, and once more during move night. “To be fair, there were a lot of interruptions. Like, a lot.”

“Okay, only one of those was my fault.” You grinned, blushing at the memory of how you had rushed away from him at Mikko’s, and how Cale had found you hunched over the toilet and held back your hair. Tyson seemed to be remembering it too, because he giggled at you. And that was just too adorable for you to handle, so you pushed yourself onto your tip-toes to kiss him once more. “No more interruptions, promise.”

Tyson grinned at you, kissing you once, twice, three times more despite the hooting and hollering of his teammates was very prominent around you. It was EJ’s comment, though, that had you pulling away from Tyson with a laugh.

“Get a room, some of us are trying to keep our innocence.” He spoke with deadly seriousness, gesturing to himself, Cale, and Gabe, and for whatever reason the thought of the two blondes being ‘innocent’ was highly amusing. For starters, EJ’s instagram handle used to be bighorny, and Gabe had a whole child to prove that he wasn't innocent. Cale was the only one you could vouch for, but proving EJ wrong was the furtherest thing from your mind as you turned to Tyson, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, unable to help yourself, and detoured to mutter in his ear before settling flat back on your feet.

“Okay, no more interruptions after we get rid of them.”

And if you asked Tyson, that sounded like a very good, and long-awaited, idea.

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost imagines #Tyson Jost x reader #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #Colorado Avalanche x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagine

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, amazinglovers747!

Happy Birthday, @amazinglovers747! We hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far, and you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

Happy Birthday! This fic is rated E for explicit sexual content and swearing. There are also mentions of Covid home-quarantine if anyone is trying to avoid that subject right now; it's not a big plot point, just a means to the end.

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Johanna slid onto the stool next to Katniss at the breakfast bar She casually grabbed her wrist, temporarily holding her prisoner.

“Hey!” Katniss cried as Johanna raised her trapped hand and took a bite of the toast dangling between her fingers. Once she was free, in disgust, she flung it away. Johanna, of course, deftly snatched the toast mid-air before it had a chance to land on the kitchen floor.

“You do remember we’re in the middle of a pandemic, don’t you? We shouldn’t be eating after each other! Are you trying to get sick?”

Johanna rolled her eyes as she stood, her crunchy, perfectly browned spoils in hand as she moved to the sink. “And we live together, brainless. We’re around each other all the time, so it’s not like we’re not swimming around in each other’s germs already.” She took another bite of the toast, letting it dangle from her mouth as she poured herself some coffee. ”If one of us gets sick, we're all going to.”

“Speak for yourself,” Finnick said, rounding the corner next to the refrigerator. He had a towel slung low over his hips, barely in place, casually rubbing another one across his hair. “I keep myself in peak physical condition, just for such a reason. My body is a perfect, well-oiled machine. I don’t have time to get sick- I can’t deprive the world just because of something like COVID; after all, I’m already covering my face when I go out. That’s enough of a loss.”

Katniss ignored him- this was just typical Finnick Odair nonsense, same as the display of skin. Neither was anything new. When she first moved into this place a year ago, it’d been an adjustment, to say the least, getting used to all the nudity that went on within its walls.

It wasn’t like Katniss was ashamed of her body or anything; she looked okay, she guessed. She’d just never met two less-shy people in her life than Finnick and Johanna. Neither had a problem walking around the apartment half-dressed or worse at any hour of the day.

Katniss had lost count of the number of times she’d seen Finnick’s bare ass or watched Johanna casually stroll around naked in the girls’ shared bathroom while one of the other of them was getting ready in the morning.

At least it’s not Peeta walking around naked; Katniss thought as that squirmy, ticklish feeling reared its head the way it did every time she thought of her third roommate. That would be sensory overload.

Not that she wouldn’t want to see Peeta in the buff (lord knew she did), she'd just prefer that happen in private.

It might seem strange while living with easily the most handsome man she’d ever met (Finnick was vain, but honestly, she didn’t blame him; if she were that attractive, Katniss would probably be the same), she couldn’t keep thoughts of her other roommate from sneaking in.

She had the worst crush on Peeta. Shamefully, he was who she thought of when she, ahh, took care of her own needs. It was so disrespectful of their friendship, but Katniss couldn’t stop herself from fantasizing about him.

Speaking of which-

There was Peeta too, yawning against the back of his hand as he slumped down onto the stool beside her.

“Morning,” Katniss told him softly, touching his elbow in greeting.

He smiled at her, shifting on the stool to get comfortable before pushing an errant strand of wavy hair out of his face.

Katniss wished she could do that herself- she had such an urge to touch Peeta’s hair. His blond waves were so fluffy-looking and soft, and he hadn’t had a haircut in ages; his barber shop was shut down for the pandemic.

She could tell the length was starting to get on Peeta’s nerves, although he didn't say it. He typically kept his hair just long enough to be manageable, not those long, wavy bangs that were currently hanging in his eyes. Katniss would ask him if he wanted one of her ponytail holders to pull it back, but the idea of him with a douchey man-bun was revolting.

Finnick turned around, squinting disapprovingly around the protein drink he held up to his lips as he studied Peeta carefully. “You need a haircut,” he finally said, ”that mop looks terrible.”

”Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious,” Katniss grumbled, scowling at the side of Finnick’s ridiculously handsome face. He was so annoying with his fastidiousness sometimes: not everyone was that worried about their appearance.

Peeta took his teasing in stride, though. “Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? We're quarantining. Besides- I’m working from home. Who’s going to see me? Just the rest of my department at our Zoom meetings, and they look as shitty as I do. Seneca Crane has two inches of white hair coming in at his roots.”

“I bet that’s a look,” Johanna quipped.

Peeta’s supervisor was an asshat of epic proportions.

She picked up her travel mug. “I gotta go; I have to be in early today.”

“You don’t look shitty,” Katniss reassured Peeta once Johanna left.

“No, he’s right,” he sighed, crossing his arms on the counter and burying his face there.

Katniss shot a scowl at Finnick as he breezed by; he winked at her and she rolled her eyes. The back of Finnick’s towel was slipping off, giving her a view of spray-tanned ass cheek as he headed back to his room to get ready for work himself.

“Covid certainly isn’t stopping Finnick from keeping up with his salon-services, is it?” she muttered once he was gone. “That’s ridiculous, even from him.”

“I think he’s got a thing going on with the tech,” Peeta told her, looking up again. “Annie, I think he said her name is? If they’re fucking the way he insinuates like they are-”

Katniss felt her whole body flame as that word slipped from his mouth. Peeta didn’t swear very often, so that made it a thousand times hotter when it happened. She could feel her body tensing from one pass of the word fuck from his lips. It didn’t hurt that they were alone, and Peeta was grinning conspiratorially at her.

When he leaned closer, she could feel the warmth from his body and smell his soap-and-Peeta-scent. It was too distracting-

“Katniss?” He was staring at her questioningly. His lips turned up in a little smile, and his eyes crinkled in the corners the way they did when he was genuinely amused by something and not just being polite- something he thankfully never did to her. “Are you alright? Lost you there for a minute, I think.”

“Sorry. ” Katniss had been so distracted by his nearness she’d zoned out on the tail end of what he was saying. ”Finnick and Annie are fucking-” Her brain was absolutely not keeping up with her mouth.

She had to get out of here before something stupid came out.

“Yeah, just um; I’ve got to go use the bathroom,” Katniss said, sliding off the barstool like her seat was burning, making her escape.

“Are you going to be around today?” Peeta asked as she inched away from him.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started scrolling, as she held her breath. Finally, after what felt like tense silence to her but didn’t seem to phase him a bit, Peeta glanced up, waiting for her answer.

“I’m not working today.”

“I might need your help with something later,” he said, glancing down at his phone screen again. “If you don’t mind.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “No, that’s okay. Just come find me when you need me.”

“Thanks.”

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpk

A few hours later, a little rat-a-tat-tat sounded on her bedroom door.

“Katniss?” Peeta called from the hallway, “are you busy now? I was wondering if I could get your help.”

Katniss sat up on her bed, tossing aside the book she’d spent the last hour or so trying to read after running to her room to hide. She stood up, straightening her clothes as she walked towards the door. Peeta was on the other side when she opened it, grinning at her, wearing boxer briefs and an undershirt.

“Hey,” Katniss said, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to sound casual and not at all like she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face.

But then, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face because something was different-

“I’m giving myself a haircut,” Peeta explained, running a hand through the blond waves on top of his head. The hair around his face was shorter and somewhat even, but the back still long- it didn’t look like he’d done anything to it at all. “Would you help me do the rest? I’m afraid I’ll screw it up if I try and finish it on my own.”

“I’ve never cut anyone’s hair-” that and the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to breathe standing that close to him.

“You’ll do a better job than I would, at least,” Peeta reassured her. “Besides, if it’s awful, I’ll just shave my head and start over.”

Katniss frowned at him. “Like that’s not putting any pressure on me!” The last thing she wanted him to do was shave his head- that would be a disgrace to such a nice head of hair.

“Maybe I’ll just shave it anyway. If you don’t help me, I will. I can’t walk around with a mullet.”

His hair was a baby mullet right now- she had to agree. At the least, it looked like that dark-haired guy from Hall & Oates.

”It’s just hair. Besides, what harm can it do? It’ll grow back,” he went on.

Katniss frowned at him for a minute, to no avail. When he refused to give her an easy out, she sighed resignedly. “Fine. I’ll try it.”

“Atta-girl,” Peeta cheered her on as she followed him down the hall to the bathroom. “What harm can it do?”

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

What harm can it do? Oh, a hell of a lot, to her nerves, at least.

When they reached the bathroom, Peeta sat down on the closed toilet lid and promptly reached behind his back, pulling his shirt off in that one-armed way guys have that made his biceps and shoulders and abs bunch before tugging the material over his head.

Dear god, give her strength-

And then he just sat there smiling up at her like it was perfectly normal to be hanging out in his underwear, waiting for her to put her hands on him.

Not that she was putting her hands on Peeta per se, only his hair.

Katniss let out a shaky breath. How was she going to do this? To cut his hair, she was going to have to stand just inches away from him like that. At least if she were doing the back, his eyes wouldn’t be on her, she told herself. That was some consolation.

“I don’t want to get any hair on my clothes,” Peeta explained with a shrug. “Maybe I should’ve got a trash bag or something to cover up with.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Katniss said, berating for getting so flustered. She reminded herself to breathe and, under no circumstances, let him see the way he was affecting her. They were friends- this wasn’t so outrageous. She was the one with hangups about semi-nudity. “Where are the scissors?” she asked, looking away from him.

“On the counter,” he said, indicating the sink with a tilt of his head.

She walked over to grab them.

“Do you have a bra on?” Peeta asked casually, just as her hands closed around the scissors.

It was the worst timing; Katniss nearly stabbed herself, trying to correct her grip on them when she dropped them in surprise. “What?”

“I can’t always tell- you’re not very big-”

Katniss frowned down at her hand. She briefly considered stabbing a particular roommate, who was currently lounging around in his underwear, in the side of his neck with the scissors.

That was a shitty thing to say about her chest- it fucking hurt, actually, sending her confidence in an immediate nosedive down the staircase of self-respect. Okay, yeah, her breasts weren’t massive by any means, but she was petite; what kind of a jerk thought he had the right to say something like that? She was just fine, proportion-wise-

Peeta laughed nervously. “I’m an idiot, Katniss. What I meant to say was you’re perky. I can’t always tell whether you’re wearing a bra or not.”

“Why exactly are we talking about my breasts?” She managed to get out, between frustration and, yes, uncertainty, because she could never un-know that Peeta had spent enough time thinking about her breasts to describe them as “perky,” and that meant he’d been thinking about her, right?

Did that mean he was looking at her the same way she looked at him? Katniss doubted that- she’d think she’d notice, but still.

Either way, she told herself, this had to be a personal all-time-low for her.

But then again, it was Peeta, and he was her friend. And friends could joke around with each other about breasts, right? It didn’t have to be a huge deal.

Right?

“If you are wearing a bra, you could take your shirt off. I figured you might not want to get hair all over your clothes either,” Peeta ran a hand through his hair again. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t like him. “I’m not trying to get you naked or anything-“

Katniss was sure her heart was going to explode out of her chest at any minute, a ticking time bomb waiting for one more word or action from Peeta. She was so confused.

But then she relaxed- she had on a sports bra; it was no less than what she would wear when they went running together, so she peeled her shirt over her head without thought. Why not- it was still more than Johanna or Finnick would wear on any given day, and it’d never bothered those two.

Katniss picked the scissors up off the counter again before stepping towards Peeta. “Any requests?” she asked, clicking them a little, trying to lighten the mood.

He turned around, presenting her with his back, and she didn’t think she’d imagined the way his eyes lingered on her chest before he moved. She watched the rise and fall of Peeta’s shoulders as he shrugged. “No, just try to get it a little shorter. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

A loaded sort of silence descended on them as she assessed the back of Peeta’s head. The only sounds in the room were slightly strangled breathing coming from him; she kind of reveled in the sound- it meant he had to be at least a little affected by her proximity, too.

Finally, Katniss began. She grasped a handful of his hair to get a feel for it. His blond strands were soft, curling around her fingers, and when she grazed her nails across his scalp accidentally, Peeta shuddered.

“That tickled a little,” his voice sounded strained. Katniss could make out the rough bobbing-up-and-down of Peeta’s Adam’s apple when he swallowed.

She continued cutting his hair in silence, little snips here and there. She trimmed it slowly, savoring the moment, trying to get it short around the edges, being extra careful around the back of his ears and the base of his neck.

The air in the room grew more charged between them as the clock on the wall ticked the seconds by, still the only sound to be heard.

Katniss found that the ever-present awareness of him made it difficult to speak. There was a trace of yesterday’s cologne on his skin, and standing so close to him, looking at the arms and shoulders and back that she wanted nothing more than to run her hands over was driving her crazy. The temptation was so strong- what would he do if she buried her face in his hair or kissed that space between his shoulder blades that called to her?

“I think I’m all done,” she told Peeta after fighting off the temptation. She hardly recognized the sound of her voice, shaky and low as she forced her hands back, curling them tightly into fists to keep from touching him.

Katniss stepped back, giving him some room to turn around. She crossed her arms over her stomach anxiously while Peeta got up and walked to the mirror. He brushed past her quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough to ignore the tingle at the place of contact.

Katniss placed one hand over her throat. She was freaking out- her pulse was beating so rapidly she was sure it was visible beneath the thin skin at her neck.

When Peeta reached the mirror, he glanced at himself while she watched him in the mirror’s reflection. The color in his face was high, but he was so fair-skinned he couldn’t hide a blush to save his life. After the agonizing silence went on longer than she could stand, Katniss looked away and reached for her shirt. She needed to get away from him before she did something stupid like kiss him or cry.

“I think it might be a little uneven in the front.” Peeta stopped her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror when she looked up. “Would you take a little more off the front for me?”

She nodded. She still didn’t trust herself to speak.

Peeta sat down on the toilet seat again- but this time, he faced her head-on without moving. She inched closer and closer, and when she got close enough that her legs were just grazing his knees, it sent a shiver through her body.

He took her hand, and widening his legs, urged her to stand between them.

Katniss moved closer, refusing to look below his shoulders; she was unsure what she would do if the outline of an erection were visible against the material of his grey boxer briefs. She had an almost-sickening (because the possibilities excited and scared her in equal measure) feeling that was precisely what she’d find.

“You’re so little, I didn’t know if you could reach me standing over there,” he explained. His voice was husky. The sound was as sexy as hell.

Katniss wondered how Peeta was taking her silence as she moved closer to him. She was on edge and hot all over. With the first puff of his breath on her skin, though, she shivered. Staring down at the top of his head and trying to control her breathing, she debated where exactly she should start cutting this time. Eventually, she just started taking tiny snips out of the crown and sides of his hair.

Katniss had no idea where any of this tension was going to take them and no close what his hair would look like, either.

It was almost impossible to focus on what she was doing with the way his warm breath fluttered against her body.

It felt like his eyes were boring into her skin.

Torture: that’s what this would get labeled under, she decided. Shirtless time with Peeta spent giving him a haircut would be a prominent feature in her future spank bank. And unlike her other moments, at least this part of it was real. Her brain could fill in the fantasy portion long after it was over.

Peeta sighed, and the sound was different, almost resigned. Before she had a chance to say something to him, though, his hands were at her waist, just above the band of her sleep shorts. She froze mid-snip, scissors dangling awkwardly between her fingers.

“Katniss?”

“Hmm,” she said, because this felt so good it couldn’t be real, and if she said something, it might be over. Also, her brain pretty much felt like mashed potatoes: fluffy and warm, but not possessing any higher-reasoning ability.

“Is this okay?” he asked, fingers just pressing into her skin.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but look down at his familiar blue eyes.

Peeta stared at her, and there was something there distinctly begging her not to reject him. He finally dropped his hands when the silence dragged on for too long- it was only then Katniss found her voice again.

“No, don’t stop. Please.”

It must’ve been just enough encouragement because he was pressing his lips against the space between her breasts before she could blink. “Oh god,” she whispered into the top of his head. His lips on her body had to be the best thing she’d ever felt, soft and warm.

Peeta pulled her closer, and she let him take the scissors out of her hand when he reached for them. It was probably a good thing- she’d forgotten she was still holding them.

He dropped the scissors on the bathroom floor, and they made a clinking sound hitting the tile, barely audible over their heavy breathing.

Peeta trailed his lips up her neck and across her jaw while his hands were at her hips and thighs, caressing her smooth skin, pushing up beneath the flimsy material of her sleep shorts.

Finally, their lips met, and Katniss wrapped her arms around Peeta’s neck, melting against him- at least as much as she could while he was sitting on a toilet, anyway. But who cared where they were? He was kissing her, she was kissing him, and it was all glorious.

It wasn’t long before things grew heated between them; the flood of repressed longing came out in a rush of touches and words:

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long-”

“You have no idea-”

More kissing, more hands moving everywhere.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked, finally.

Katniss nodded, breathing against his mouth. Things were moving fast, and she didn’t want to stop, but they probably shouldn’t be doing this here. Maybe somewhere else that wasn’t too far away, though. “Shower?” she asked.

“Fuck, please. Yes,” he muttered, standing up quickly. He caught her off guard but was then walking her backward, taking her with him, stumbling towards the shower. When they made it there, still upright, Peeta reached around the curtain and turned the water on. Katniss pulled her bra off, and her shorts and underwear quickly followed behind as he shoved his underwear down his legs.

And then they were both bare. How had this happened so fast?

But she didn’t have much of a chance to dwell on things because Peeta’s naked body was pressed against hers, sending sensation through her every limb, every inch. Not to mention, his hands were everywhere.

She loved his hands.

“Let’s get in,” Katniss mumbled against his mouth, just keeping herself from kissing him long enough that they wouldn’t end up horizontal on the bathroom floor.

After checking the temperature, Peeta yanked the curtain back and pulled Katniss inside the shower, beneath the warm spray with him. She expected something fast and hard to happen because they were both so worked up, but instead, the act of getting into the shower slowed them down. They were still kissing, wet and slow and deep, until Peeta backed away from kissing her long enough to lean his forehead against hers and stare down at her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he finally said, his hand trailing up her thigh, his touch so inexplicably gentle, worshipful. Peeta slid up her belly, stopping to cup her breasts. He kissed her deeply before running his thumb across her nipple. “You’re sexy everywhere, but these are spectacular.”

Katniss gasped against his mouth when he pinched her lightly. “Not too small?” she asked, half-laughing at her question. With the way Peeta seemed enthralled with her, she wasn’t concerned. It was quite the opposite. She’d never felt so comfortable or confident with a guy before.

“That was so stupid-”

“It’s fine.” She let her hand skate down his hip, and he pressed his lower half against her thigh in response.

“I’m just teasing you,” Katniss said, as she ran her lips down at his neck, sighing against his wet skin. His body was gorgeous- not hours spent working out at the gym perfect like Finnick’s, but because he was real and muscular, and it was Peeta, and she’d wanted him forever.

She couldn’t believe he wanted her too. “You wouldn’t just do this with just any girl who cut your hair, would you- spectacular breasts or no?”

“Why do you think I asked you to take your shirt off?”

“So, you were trying to get me naked!”

They did laugh then, lips and teeth bumping together as he kissed her. It only lasted until his hand moved down between her thighs, cupping her sex. Katniss stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, and he took the cue to delve further when she widened her stance. He slid his fingers between her lips, touching her where she was swollen and achy for him.

“You feel so good,” Peeta said, stroking lightly, “you’re so wet.” His fingers brushed against her clit, giving her a teasing little swipe around it that made Katniss bite her lip. “Feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the shower wall.

Peeta kissed the side of her neck as he touched her, sliding his fingers through her folds and around her opening, dipping inside of her before pulling out to rub a little more firmly with each forward pass, until her hips were chasing after his fingers each time he moved them away. Finally, tired of his teasing, Katniss scrabbled at his hand, squeezing his wrist to let him know he needed to stay there until further notice.

Soon, with Peeta’s wrist still in a death grip between her thighs, his fingers rubbing quickly at her nerve bundle in an on-again, off-again motion, Katniss cried softly, dropping his wrist when she began to climax. She slumped against his body as he thrust two thick fingers deep inside of her, burying her nose against his chest as she pulsed around them. Peeta kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, fucking her with them.

Katniss was still catching her breath, mouth hanging open against his shoulder where beads of moisture left his skin slick to the touch when he pulled his fingers out of her. She looked up at him when she could focus again, her lids heavy, her body heavy and muscles relaxed from release.

Peeta was staring down at her, his gaze intense.

“What do you like?” Katniss asked shyly. She straightened up the best she could, a little wobbly on her feet and wondering exactly how it was that people had shower sex.

Peeta cut her words off with a quick kiss, and while she was kissing him back, he took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Let’s just go with this, okay?” he said, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not in any big hurry, are you?”

This part felt like Peeta too (and she didn’t mean his very hard, very thick cock in her hand); the not pushing her, not being in any kind of a rush to move things fast. Katniss knew he was a methodical guy, and the thought of what that could mean sex-wise with him was kind of thrilling.

Absolutely nothing seemed wrong with just fooling around for now. It made Katniss’s core ache all over again, just running her hand up and down his shaft rubbing her thumb across the broad head of his cock.

Her jaw went slack as she pumped Peeta to completion- it was better than any fantasy she’d ever had about him. His eyes were closed, one hand on her breast and one at her hip, when his face contorted in ecstasy. She watched his abdomen flutter and felt his cock tense. He throbbed in her hand as his cum came spurting out over the top of her fist like a fountain. Peeta moaned her name as he came apart, his hips rocking in time with the pulsing of his cock. It was easily the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

And the best part was Katniss knew they had the apartment to themselves all day.

She had every intention of taking advantage of it. “Come on,” she said to Peeta, turning off the water and flinging the curtain back once he recovered, “my bedroom, now.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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