#so. uh. have that slightly abrupt ending

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Hbd and sunny: get out of here.

At last, the follow-up to Poor Penny and Damien's Horrible No Good Very Bad Day (feat. bonding)

-

He finds her in the office, bent over some files, flipping through them with a determined look on her face. It's a look he knows all too well; he wore it himself once, some thirty years ago. She wants to fix the unfixable, to change what is already firmly set in place.

"Get out of here," he says flatly, without as much as a greeting. He will not let her become him, no matter what.

"I have to find out who did this." She doesn't even look up. "I have to stop them. I can't let them hurt anyone else, I-"

"We'll stop them. But not tonight. It's late; you need sleep."

She swallows. "I can't sleep. If I sleep, they might hurt someone else."

It's been days. Days since she and Damien were taken. Probably days since she's had a good night's sleep. No wonder she's barely making sense. "Listen, you need to-"

"I need to stop them. I thought you of all people would understand that."

The words land squarely between his ribs, and for a heartbeat, he cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot do anything but stare in horror, struggling to fit the cold words into the warm young woman that he knows.

Then she stills and looks up at him, face suddenly pale. "I'm-I'm so sorry. I didn't-I just meant because you're so determined to close cases, not-I didn't mean-" Tears well up in her eyes, and he forces himself to exhale, to let the pain wash over him and out.

"My wife's dead." He tries to keep his voice even. "Damien's not. So get out of here; he needs you with him, not here, buried in paperwork."

"But-" She's trembling, and he really wishes Ellie was here. She'd know exactly what to do, what to say, to fix this. He's a jagged blade meant to help a butterfly, and he doesn't know how to do anything but cut. "But it's my fault. They took me, but he-he could have gotten away. He almost did. But they put a gun to my head, and he-" She falls silent, burying her face in her hands, as the pieces fall into place. Then he sighs.

"It wasn't your fault-"

"It was!" She can scarcely manage each word. "So now I have to stop them, before-"

"Hey." He aims for gentle but firm, though Ellie has always been better at that than him. "He's alive. And he'll be a lot more upset if you're not there when he wakes up."

She says nothing, just continues shaking, and he tentatively steps toward her. Slow, uncertain, he reaches out, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. That's how this comfort thing is supposed to work, right?

Her head lifts, eyes red and puffy, and she stares at him for three long seconds, until he's almost ready to yank his hand away and swear off doing the whole comfort thing at all-

And then he finds himself with two arms full of human. She clings to him, face buried in his chest, openly weeping against him. Oh; okay. That's... Not really in his wheelhouse. He clumsily brings his hand up to rest against her back, patting a couple of times for good measure.

"There, there," he tries, and she actually laughs, loud and sharp, bordering on hysterical.

"You are... Really not good at this," she whispers, taking a steadying breath, and he winces.

"Nope."

Then, so soft he can barely hear her- "Thank you."

She stays there for nearly two minutes; he watches the clock, the second hand ticking along, as she holds onto him for dear life. Then, at last, she exhales, releasing him and drawing back. Her face is still tearstained, but her expression is clear. Calm.

"I'm going to head to the hospital." Whew; his work here is done. "You should come with me."

W-why on earth would he do that? "I'm pretty sure I'm not the one he wants to see," he points out wryly, making his way to his chair.

"Eleanore will be there."

Of course she will be. All her life she's wanted a family, but for whatever reason, she's never had one, and now she treats Damien and Penny like the kids she never had. She'll be up there until he's well, fretting and worrying about him. "You two can keep each other company until he wakes up."

The look she gives him is wry, far too sarcastic to fit on her face, with just a hint of genuine amusement in her eyes. "Pretty sure I'm not the one she wants to see."

It's a ridiculous comparison, and he opens his mouth to tell her so, but her expression turns pleading and he gives in with a sigh. "Fine. But I'm driving."

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 3

2.9k | fluff To him, nothing existed outside the walls of his favourite flat (part 1) (part 4)

When was the last time Simon was this on edge about meeting someone? Probably when he first met his captain when he joined the SAS, about to take the CQB test.

What was he even nervous about this time? This was no first impression - he already scared you the first time you met. He was lucky you still wanted to talk to him after. If he were you, he probably would avoid the huge, grim-faced bloke with the horrible dad jokes.

That Sunday evening, wearing a crisp button down, he knocked on your door and waited. He had his sleeves rolled up his forearms, trimmed his scruff that morning, even put on some cologne, but as he stood there he realised he never explicitly stated this was a date.

Did he need to? He wanted it to be without having to say it. He knew assumptions were the leading cause of misunderstandings, but would you still want to go if it was?

You emerged from your flat with a sweet smile, wearing a cute dress and pretty heels, all dolled up for the evening. You looked like you were ready for a date. Was this a date?!

He blinked, the fabric of his shirt strained slightly across his chest as he breathed in. “You look lovely.”

Your smile widened. “Thanks. You look nice yourself.” Your gaze lingered, but he hoped not because you thought he was trying too hard.

In front of his car, he silently offered you his arm. He wasn’t even looking at you, but he heard your faint chuckle when you took it to walk up to the restaurant.

“I’ve got a reservation for 2 under Simon Riley,” he answered the young host.

“Mr. Riley…” He repeated as he went through the tablet. “I’m sorry, perhaps a different name?”

Simon pulled out his email confirmation.

The host squinted at the phone and upon realisation widened his eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. There must be a mistake on our end. Your name isn’t on the list.” He blinked. “We’re uh- we’re fully booked tonight.”

“Can you please check again? Or is there a way you can squeeze us in?”

The host winced, and at this point he reckoned it was more from scrutiny of his stare rather than the unfortunate error.

“I’m terribly sorry, but we’re booked solid, sir.” He swallowed. “May I let you know if something opens up?”

No, no, no. His first night out with you wasn’t going to be ruined. Did he have to intimidate someone into giving up their table? He knew he could.

“It’s okay, Simon, we can go elsewhere,” you reassured, your hand still on the crook of his arm.

No, he didn’t want to go anywhere else! He wanted this. You wanted this.

You thanked the host and led the defeated soldier out, rubbing his inked forearm. On the pavement, absolutely gutted, he turned to you, shoulders sagging.

“Hey, isn’t that famous taco shop nearby? Just down the street, I think?” You looked up at him. “Been meaning to try it. Do you like Mexican?”

It didn’t matter what he liked. “We can get anything you want.”

Your warm hand remained on him the short walk to the place. Unfortunately, it was packed, leaving no table left so you got the meal to-go. He felt terrible - you got all dolled up for his plans to go sideways, only ending up with tacos in the car.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Don’t look so sad, Simon. We can pretend this is round two, the late-night snack because the fancy dinner wasn’t filling enough.”

He glanced at you, your smile bright as you looked up the sky, your hair danced to your steps. He smiled to himself. At least the weather was nice, and most importantly, you were there. His for the evening.

“Oh, those are humongous!” you gasped, steps coming to an abrupt stop.

He followed your line of sight to the bright display of a tucked away cookie shop. You tugged on his hand as you made your way there. He chuckled lightly as you revelled in the selection, leaving with four hefty cookies roughly the size of his palm (which you fought him to pay for).

You beamed up at him when he took your hand which fitted perfectly in his. He wished the walk to the car was further so you didn’t have to let go so soon.

While dinner delighted you, Simon was trying his best to pretend the coriander in his mouth didn’t taste like soap. His eyes closed as he breathed in deeply.

“Simon, you should have told me you don’t like tacos.” You grimaced.

“At least you’re enjoying yours.”

“I am, but it’s no fun if you don’t! You eat each in two bites, and chew like you’re trying not to throw up.

“’m fine.” He’d had far worse in the field.

“You need to tell me if you don’t like something next time, okay?”

He hoped there would be a next time.

“Should we get you something else? You can’t tell me you’re full.”

He sighed and gave you a sheepish smile. “Maybe Chinese near the flat?”

You laughed. “You’ve got good taste.

While Simon got the takeaway, you headed to your flat. He figured he might as well get changed into more comfortable clothes to enjoy his dinner in, still annoyed by how the evening turned into another mediocre night in.

His mum popped out of his kitchen with a mug of steaming hot tea, grinning. “Si, the cookies are mint. You should have taken me there!”

Oh? You’d raved about them, but the two you saved were for his mum? Why did you have to be this kind? So generous, even after the lame evening.

When he made his way to yours, you’d left your door unlocked. You lounged on the couch, your hair still damp, watching a baking show.

“What’s this?” He sat next to you.

“Great British Bake Off. Have you seen?”

He shook his head. “Don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“The cookies put me in such a baking mood.”

He scarfed his meal down in silence, simply grateful this round didn’t taste funny.  When he was done, he brushed against your arm as he placed the empty takeaway box on the coffee table. He casually stretched his arm along the back of the couch, and you scooted closer, pressing against his muscled thigh. The couch didn’t feel so small anymore, but he needed it to be even smaller.

The steak dinner might have failed, but this wasn’t bad at all - staying in, enjoying your quiet company like this. Maybe you didn’t mind his presence after all.

While this sort of show was not his first pick at all, to his surprise, the calmness mesmerised him. Despite the tense nature of a competition, the show was serene and kindly. You were right - it was quite inspiring. Although he couldn’t help but laugh when the sweet Merry Berry earnestly said ‘soggy bottom’ when judging the contestants’ pies.

Simon peered at you. He’d never learnt to cook beyond turning things edible, let alone bake anything, but watching deft hands peeling, slicing, rolling and braiding was hypnotising to say the least. He wondered when you we’re going to bake again because he’d love to watch you and your delicate hands again.

Should he get the apples? Would you knock on his door with another pie if he did? If he could do it all again, he’d have leant in to kiss you instead of leaning against the doorframe to scare you.

When the episode came to an end, he excused himself for the night. It was later than the time he usually left, but losing a little sleep over your company was worth it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask where you got your hoodies. They look so thick and comfortable.”

“They’re from this shop near the base. Would you like one?”

“I’d love that! Could you take one of mine for size reference?”

He nodded and you went to retrieve your hoodie from your room.

“Please don’t judge! It’s my favourite.”

With a small smile, he took the old and faded hoodie from you, knowing it had the most soul. “They’re the best when they’re worn, yeah?”

Back at base, Simon placed your possession carefully in his wardrobe. It felt oddly intimate to be trusted with your clothing, especially your favourite, like it didn’t belong in his cold and dark room. But as he lay in bed, he wondered why he didn’t kiss you on the cheek, or anywhere you allowed him, really.

He turned to his wardrobe. You wouldn’t mind terribly if he kept your hoodie on his bed, would you? He stifled a smile when he laid it next to his pillow. He thought of the movies you watched wearing said hoodie, the teas you sipped. He wondered if you’ve danced in it alone in your kitchen, and to which songs, and what you were cooking.

That night, in the silence he didn’t want to break, he sighed softly. Things could be alright after all.

While Simon had been busy that week, he could leave base on time that Friday and arranged dinner with you (and his mum too, of course). He even had some time to drop by the hoodie shop to get you one (you didn’t need to know he got the exact same one for himself), although he was a little gutted that he didn’t have an excuse to have your hoodie with him anymore.

He picked you up from work before driving to his mum. He was excited to present you the gift which sat in his backseat, but he figured he’d do it later at the end of the night at yours. You patted his forearm when you got in the car, and he just couldn’t look away from your smile. Your hands lay idle on your thighs during the drive and he itched to grab one. He prayed for a moment, an excuse, an opportunity.

But when he pulled up at the bakery, from the large window, his eyes narrowed at the scene in the usually peaceful shop. His mum stood behind the counter, hands clenched over her chest, next to an elderly man who was shouting at another man in front of the counter.

Rage flared in the lieutenant. He slammed his door shut and stormed into the shop, throwing the door against the wall.

The man in question turned at the interruption. It was the devil of Simon’s nightmares, Mr. Riley, eyes wide as he registered the sight of the livid 6ft 4 soldier. Simon strode across the room and took a huff of breath before pulling his fist back. The blow knocked his dad straight onto the floor.

“Simon!” his mum gasped.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat at his dad who cowered from him.

“I’m- I’m just trying to apologise. I know I was wrong for what I did.” He held his skinny hands up, as if they could protect him against his son’s wrath. “I’m a changed man, Simon.”

A changed man? Yeah, right.

“What you’ve done is unforgivable, and the least you can do is leave her alone,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his fist back again, and his dad closed his eyes in resignation.

“Si, no. He’s made enough of a scene.” His mum pulled him by the shoulder. “Come on, Si. Don’t get yourself in trouble for him.”

He heaved, pausing, but his fist didn’t relent. Still pulled back, like the string of a bow more than ready to snap, the tension in his arm aching. But he remembered you were there, witnessing everything, how the illusion that he was an ordinary man crumbled.

It was a rude awakening that even when the pain in his life was out of sight, he was still the Simon with all his baggage. That day, the disgrace clawed its way out of the ground like the undead. Because this, his history, was never dead to begin with. He was cursed with the shame of being related to such a man.

“You don’t want to find out what I’m going to do if I see your face again.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave her alone.” He held his trembling hand up, scooting backwards before scrambling out the door, bumping into you as you watched in stunned silence.

“Melanie, you can go,” the elderly man behind the counter said.

She let out a shaky breath and disappeared to the back before emerging back with her belongings.

The room was tense, and with a tight smile, you only nodded at who he assumed to be the owner of the bakery. You went to his mum, rubbing her arm as you led her out. Simon hadn’t said a word since, his fists in his pockets, telling himself to not run after his dad and bash his face in once and for all.

Though on the outside it looked business as usual with Simon, always quiet with an icy stare, he was seething at dinner. The meal didn’t taste any better than MRE as his fork stabbed the pieces of whatever-it-was on his plate.

His mum seemed unaffected too, chatting and laughing with you, patting your forearm. As if she’d expected it, like her husband was a sentence that haunted wherever she went, waiting to strike. Thankfully, you were nice enough to not ask anything about the incident, preventing the evening from being even more shameful.

While you went to your flat to settle in, Simon and his mum went to his.

“What did he do to you?” he asked as soon as the door closed.

She sighed softly. “He was grovelling, asking me to come back.”

“How did he even know you work there?”

“I’ve got no idea, Si. But he always finds a way to get what he wants.”

He stared at her, wondering what that meant - if she was folding. He looked away before letting out a deep breath, running his fingers through his overgrown blond hair.

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’m arranging a meeting with a divorce lawyer.”

His lips quirked into the tiniest smile. It was about time.

After a shower, Simon knocked on your door. You didn’t seem to lock it anymore when you were expecting him. From the couch, you looked over your shoulder with a smile.

“I figured it was an Earl Grey kind of night.”

You had the kettle on the table, next to two mugs – one empty.

His eyes flicked to you, standing by the couch. “You must be wondering what the fuck that was.”

“Oh, you don’t need to tell-“

“That was my dad. My mum came here to get away from him.”

You gave him a sympathetic nod, patting the seat next to you.

He dropped himself onto the couch. “He hasn’t been nice to my mum to say the least. Hasn’t been to any of us in fact.”

“Must have taken a lot of courage to walk away, leaving everything she’s ever known.”

He turned to you, brows raised. “She told you?”

“No, but it’s not hard to see. She’s got no one here except you. Something must have happened back home.” You paused. “I know it’s just… difficult to do two people’s work.”

His gaze stayed on you, watching how yours cast down. He didn’t know what possessed him, but he asked, “How do you deal with guilt?”

“Accept that sometimes it’s not your fault.” You scooted closer, your hand on his. “That sometimes there’s nothing you can do even when you desperately want to. That you’re not always the good guy in everyone’s story.”

He leaned into your shoulder, his nose brushing against the smooth skin of your neck as he let out a long sigh.

You wrapped your arms around him. “I told you I’ve only got my dad now. He kept forgiving my mum, but it just didn’t work when your heart’s not there. It might have not been my fault things fell apart, but I wanted to have a hand in rebuilding what’s left. I like to think we’ve been having a pretty good time.”

Simon could tell you were smiling from the climb of your voice.

“You’ve still got your mum. There are still nice things to be had.”

His thick arms slipped around your waist. The TV droned on as the last half of your tea went cold, but you didn’t let go, fingers running through the hair above the nape of his neck.

His shoulders were still heavy. His dad wasn’t out of their lives yet, but with you like this, it was easy to forget it all. That anything else existed outside your quiet flat – his favourite flat.

He sat back and pulled you to him, an arm around you. You put on another episode of GBBO and lay on his chest. As the both of you stayed wordless, he contemplated if he could let himself stay - the couch or the floor would be fine. He wouldn’t leave if you asked, but you didn’t.

Near midnight, he excused himself to his flat - his first time staying there since his mum came. At the door, he braved himself to kiss you on the cheek.

“See you at breakfast.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @eve-lie @luvecarson @ghostslittlegf @gluttonybiscuits @jaguarthecat @nocturnalreader106 @devils-dares @sparrowgalaxy

[alottiegoingon]

the last night

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: shauna comes back after 19 months in the wilderness

warnings: shauna and r had a situationship, very suggestive content but nothing explicit, wilderness time, mentions of mental illness (depression, anxiety), r cheating on her actual gf, manipulative shauna (?), angst but happy ending, not proofread

"i can't believe you're leaving me," you complain in a purposely whiny tone, your voice ringing in shauna's ears as you sit across from each other on the bed. she grips her familiar journal while you help her go through her checklist of essential items.

"i'm not leaving you. It's only a week," she murmurs, her head bowed over her journal, but her eyes lift to catch yours. a playful smile dances on her lips, secretly entertained by your antics.

shauna played as the midfielder for the yellowjackets, a girls' soccer team. their recent victory had secured them a spot in the nationals in seattle, and it was all she could talk about.

you were genuinely excited for her, but the thought of spending so much time apart made you anxious. it wasn’t a full week, technically, but you couldn’t help worrying about shauna meeting someone much cooler in a much cooler place.

"remember the last time?" shauna reminisces about her trip to denver five years ago, also for soccer. you were just middle schoolers then, and you were forced to make new friends while she was gone for days. "you found new friends," her voice crackled slightly.

"so we are friends now?" you say, your voice constricting. shauna doesn't look up but you hear her snort, contrasting with her muscles tensing up. the silence settles in and you don't wait any longer to fill it, not wanting to make things any weirder than they already were.

"anyway. it's just not the same now," shauna understood your words perfectly well, especially considering the kind of friendship you had. still, she questioned.

"why's that?" she inquires, her hands absently rubbing the pen against her journal as she finishes her list.

"you know why," three words of yours were responsible for the abrupt stop of her writing. shauna places the journal and pen aside, focusing on you.

"because no one is as cool as me?" she quips, a self-satisfied grin spreading across her lips.

"that's debatable," you retort, feigning skepticism as you mock her with a playful expression.

"you hurt my feelings like that," her false frown deepens as she leans in.

her hands move surreptitiously toward your legs, eventually landing in a gentle and not so innocent touch on your knees. inch by inch, she traces your skin with her fingertips until her full hands were on your thigs and crawling up to your waist.

"i'm so sorry," you try to keep yourself unbothered by her touch but she's smarter. her nose strokes your cheek, stopping to give your upper lip a messy kiss, and she kisses her way town to your neck.

brushing your hair out of the way along with the heart necklace, her teeth gently grazes on your skin.

"nuh-uh. this won't do," her hot breath into your skin makes you shiver. "i have a better idea."

𖠋

everyone remembers where they are when an upsetting event happens. the death of a celebrity, a natural disaster, a medical trauma. you remember, clear as water, where you were when you read the newspaper. walking back home.

it was all over the news. flight 2525, the private plane that lottie matthews' dad had chartered, had disappeared. the plane shauna was in. making everything worse, the news would often use the word 'crash' instead and you couldn't bare the idea.

soon enough, it hit you that the night before her trip was the last time you would ever see her again. the only thing more unbearable than that was the uncertainty; not knowing if shauna was still out there.

after a month of silence, you thought you had your answer.

people don't move on from things like that, not completely. especially if their best friend was envolved. spending your days in bed, skipping meals and not going to class became part of your new routine. you lost track of whether it was day or night, whether the sun was shining or not. your mind was consumed by her.

moving on or not, life goes on and the world doesn't slow down for anyone. after six months, normalcy had returned for most. apart from the parents and a handful of students, the yellowjackets had faded from people's memories, just like their plane. this pissed you off. you barely had time to grieve as the rest of the world rushed forward.

forcing yourself to merely exist, not truly live, you returned to class. like a ghost, you attracted curious glances and avoided them like the plague. after graduation, college was the next step.

a year later, shauna’s parents asked if you wanted anything from her room. something special, or perhaps just to visit. you were certain it wasn’t a good idea, but you went anyway. under her pillow, you found an envelope from brown university—the same school you were attending, the place you and shauna had planned to go together.

that was all it took to break you down into a sobbing mess on her bed.

𖠋

things got better. not perfect, not the way they used to be, but better. you weren't alone anymore but always had to push away the idea of losing all of your friends at once, one in special. luckily or not, college kept you busy.

"have you finished tomorrow's essay? It's so boring I might just drop the class," your girlfriend says, dropping a pile of old books on the cafeteria table and sitting across from you.

"i have dark circles under my eyes, what do you think?" you groan, lifting your head. she leans over the table to kiss your forehead.

"i think you still look pretty, baby."

"thanks, but I'm not letting you copy my work."

"worth the shot," she chuckles, placing two cups of coffee on the table, sliding one towards you.

your plan was to finish that damn essay and be completely free. the cafeteria was buzzing with students, but at least they were minding their own business. that's what you get for studying in a campus cafeteria.

"did you hear what happened to them? i'm so glad they're alive. It must have been so tough," her sudden comment startles you, taking a moment to register.

you swallow a lump in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at the TV, where crowds of people are watching the news: 'yellowjackets rescued'.

"holy shit," you whisper, the shock setting in as you realize you hadn't revealed not only your awareness of their situation but also your complex connection with one of them.

𖠋

a week after shauna got back, her parents had called you your stomach was turning upside down and your anxiety levels were through the roof. you couldn't manage to put your feelings into words.

you knocked on her bedroom door, too anxious to wait, just to announce yourself. for the first time in almost two years, shauna stood before you. she bore a few scars, nothing too severe; her hair had grown longer, losing its waves; her eyes seemed somehow larger, fixed on you as if she had just saw something extraodrinary.

she leapt from the bed, a cautious gaze scanning you, before rushing toward you and embracing you tightly.

her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers digging into your clothes so intensely it almost hurt. you reciprocated, holding her waist tightly to keep her close, unsure when the tears started flowing, but you feeling your shoulders becoming wet.

"hi," she whisper between tears, her voice crackling.

"hi," you echo her. "i thought i would never see you again."

"i know," she sniffs, clinging to you. the last thing she murmurs for the long time you two spent hugging.

shauna was back, but she was much quieter, easily irritated, and frightened by everything. she had every right to feel that way, but you were worried. no one was allowed inches close to her journal and you respected that, encouraging her to write about her feelings.

your finals didn't matter anymore; nothing else did. for the next few weeks, you were constantly by her side. even waiting outside the bathroom door like a loyal dog.

however, you weren't the same as before. you weren't as touchy or intimate, especially after shauna discovered you were dating someone else. she became distant and strange, pushing you away and ignoring your calls.

"hey, I bought you a new book. It's from that author you used to like before..." you stop yourself mid-sentence. "you know."

forcing a smile, you place the book on her desk. her vacant eyes meet yours, but she remains still, lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

"is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly, walking towards her and offering your hand.

the silence lingers but she accepts your hand and joins you.

"shauna?" you say. as soon as she's on her feet, she drops your hand quickly.

"everything is fine," she says sharply.

"right... it's just that you've been acting weird lately," you explain, trying not to upset her.

"in case you didn't know, I was trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for almost two years," she snaps, her body stiffening.

"yes, i know," you say, inhaling deeply. "but I—"

"don't you have to go back to your girlfriend anyway?" she interrupts, glancing at the door and then back at you. she clearly wanted you out.

"no, I don't," you reply, frowning. "is she why you're acting like an idiot?"

she snorts, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowing.

"It's funny how I'm the idiot when you've replaced me with someone else so quickly," you would feel bad thanks to the pain in her voice if it weren't for her absurd words.

"replace you?" you scoff. "she's my girlfriend, shauna."

"and what was I?"

"you were my friend! we were friends."

her face shuts down completely, lips parting as if ready to shout something, but she stops herself. you weren't sure if you agreed with your own words, but it’s too late now.

"i thought you were dead," you say, taking a deep breath to keep your voice steady. shauna, however, seems perfectly fine with letting her voice rise.

"you sure did," she says, shaking her head slightly.

"well, you left me."

"not because I wanted to, you fucking idiot!" she snarls, suddenly pressing her forearm against your collarbones and pushing you backwards. you gasp in surprise as your back hits the cold wall.

"shauna! what are you doing?" you try to push her away, but she’s stronger than you remember and hold you in place.

"do you ever think of me when you kiss her?" she whispers, ignoring your question. her breath is ragged, her chest heaving. she tilts her head slightly, studying your face. then she leans closer, her lips just brushing against yours.

you can hardly make sense of her words, stunned by her sudden change in behavior. your mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out.

"answer me," she growls, pressing her arm harder against you. her jaw clenches, making you yelp, and you immediately whisper a faint 'yes.'

she smirks, crashing her lips into yours. though you hesitated for a moment, you quickly recovered, syncing your movements with her rough rhythm. when you try to pull her closer by the hips, she lets go of your chest, grasping your wrists and pinning them along with you.

the urgent kiss didn't last much longer as she trailed her way down to your jawline with small bites and feral kisses, eventually reaching your neck. in her preferred area, you cry out her name when she sinks her teeth into your skin, drawing blood.

when did she got so into biting?

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Please please a follow up/ longer version of the “walking out during an argument” hc with Tan? Like SUPER ANGSTY but also it’s all resolved in the end (maybe walking out whilst visiting him on a job?! And without your phone, in a foreign place so he’s super scared 😭)

MWHAHA love angst (but always worry the dialogue feels cringe??? but I don’t think it is?? idk you guys tell me) thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

A SURPRISE.

tangerine x fem!reader — angst

word count. 1256

Sometimes, when Tangerine was in the country for work, you liked to surprise him - either by waiting in his hotel room or tracking him down —with the help of the find my friends app— and meeting him at his location. 

He had been gone for the better part of two weeks, and you were starting to miss him, sure he texted and video-called you, but often it wasn't enough. And since he was away for so long, you wanted to treat him with a quick visit - stopping by his hotel suite and asking him to dinner. 

In your mind, this was a cute, simple way of spending time together without it being a hindrance. 

So when you arrived at the hotel, you gave Tangerine's name and details, asking reception for a replacement room key - elaborately lying by saying you locked yourself out. And with the plastic keycard in hand, you made your way up to his room.

You swiped the card, and when you opened it, you were met with a gun pointed at you from the other side, your boyfriend standing behind it - aiming at whoever was trying to get into the room. 

"It's me," you hold your hands up, the sight catching you off guard. "It's me. I wanted to surprise you."

Tangerine holsters his gun behind his back and opens the door wider to let you in, the look on his face far from happy to see you. "What're you doin'ere?"

You're a little taken back, the tone of his voice much more pointed than you would've expected. "I uh— I wanted to see you," you say softly, trying not to feel hurt by his comment. "It's been a while, and thought about going to lunch," you say closing the door behind you. 

He looks stressed. Fed up, even.

"Thought it would be nice to spend some time together," you shrug, looking around the room awkwardly.

"I can't be doin' that."

"That's okay," you reassure, trying to soothe over the initial uneasy tension. "We can stay in," you add, making your way around his room - sorting out his stuff and folding the messily disregarded clothes.

"No," he says quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose - standing in the small corridor by the door.

"Get room service, watch some tv," you continue, unaware of what he said. 

"No," he repeats, slightly louder than the time before - still going unheard by you.

"Maybe go for a walk after. The weather is nice too. Oh, I saw this cute little bakery by the park—"

"This ain't a fuckin' holiday," he interrupts, voice and tone abrupt. 

You immediately halt, holding his t-shirt in your hand - pausing mid-fold. "I know, I just thought—" 

But he cuts you off. "Just thought what?" he snarks, eyes glaring at you from across the room. "This is work, not some couples getaway. I don't want you being around here." 

His words cut right through you, and you still - ears pulling back, brows narrowing in the middle. He's never spoken to you this way before. You were half-convinced he was having you on, playing a prank or such, but the stiffness in his demeanour told you it was anything but.

"Don't talk to me like that," you say, words soft and hurt. 

"It's stupid, y'know that? Did you even think about it?"

"Course I did," you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

"Well, it doesn't fuckin' feel like that," he shouts, walking closer. "What if someone was watching us? Do you realise what could've happened? Do’ya?

You nod, lip almost wobbling from the scolding you're receiving.

"You could be fuckin' dead right now, y'know that?"

"Okay," you whisper, wanting him to stop. 

"Dead," he repeats, the word loud and emphasised. 

"Okay!" you snap, throwing his top back onto the bed. "I get it! Made a big stupid mistake, I get it." 

He opens his mouth to retaliate, but then that cloud of anger suddenly dissipates, and he finally sees the look on your face - expression wounded.

You pick up your bag and place it over your shoulder, turning around to head for the door. But he tries to stop you, a hand on your forearm to halt your movement. You shake from his grasp and twist to face him. "I don't care who you are to me. Never speak to me like that," you utter, firming your features to accentuate your point. "Never."

He releases your arm, the immediate guilt slapped on his face. "Come on," he attempts. "Don't leave."

But you're already out of the door and in the lifts, making your way back down to the ground floor. He chases after you, getting caught behind a group of people - missing his turn. And by the time he gets down to the lobby, you're already gone. Nowhere to be seen.

You wanted to head home, but there were no trains until later on in the day, so for the time being, you were practically stranded. All by yourself in a city you weren't familiar with, trying to find something to do to kill the time. 

During those few short hours of your absence, Tangerine had been making his way around the city trying to find you - going into shops and stores he knew you liked in attempts to seek you out. The bouquet of apology flowers in his hand getting beaten and crumpled from his rushing around. 

He came up empty until he made his way back onto the street of his hotel - remembering what you said earlier, bakery by the park. He spots the small pink shop and heads right for it, rushing past the patrons on the street only to find the interior empty - the staff closing up for the afternoon.

Knocking on the glass door, he ushers a worker over - blurting out your appearance and asking if they had seen you. Luckily, your two-hour presence was enough to catch attention, and Tan was able to find out details of your whereabouts. 

And then he turns around, spotting the park, someone familiar —you— on the bench just in his sight. He makes his way closer, soothing over the crumbled flowers.

"Hello," he starts, standing beside the bench - leaving a comfortable gap. "Been looking everywhere for you," he starts, voice gentle. 

You keep your eyes on the lake ahead and scooch over, making more space for him.

He sits beside you, his gaze ahead like yours. "I got you these," he starts, weakly chuckling as he extends the bouquet towards you - placing them in your lap.

You look down and laugh softly when you see the state of them. "Thank you," you nod, turning to look at him. "They would've been really pretty."

He chuckles —for real this time—and twists to meet you. "Yeah. They were."

But you turn back away, looking ahead at the duck-filled water. "I should've texted you first."

He keeps his eyes on the side of you and nods, acknowledging what you said. "I was a dick."

You too nod, also acknowledging what he said. 

"I spoke to Lem," he starts.

You hum, silently asking him to continue. 

"We sorted some things out," he pauses, craning his neck - forcing you to look at him. "And I want you to stay tonight."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," he nods, sincerity in his voice - soft grin matching yours. "And I can make it up to you— show you about or something. It’ll be nice."

holly and michael from the office inspired me when tan is going around trying to find reader

[pedgito]

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Five: Mr. Miller

Chapter Summary: Years later, you find yourself with choices that feel impossible. And of course, Joel Miller is there at the root of them. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller (formerly), time jump, joel is a successfully published writer, reunions, drinking, semi-public sex in a bathroom, m!oral, unprotected piv, job proposals, ambiguous endings

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Word doesn’t travel, thankfully. It’s handled swiftly, quietly. Mostly be the discrepancies of Joel, who allows himself to take the full responsibility—for you, for him, and definitely not for Tess.

You’re not sure what expels in the office after you leave that night, other than the gradually rising voices of the troubled couple and Joel–he sounds tired, exasperated, done before Tess can get a word in edgewise. But, you don’t linger much longer.

Joel, however, can’t seem to grasp something to anchor him down, feeling himself slip into a quiet rage. Tess forces the ultimatum on him that night. Either he owns up to, tells her everything, or she would make the divorce hell. He knew she was capable of being vindictive, but he never thought it would be aimed at him. And he knew it all boiled down to him never forgiving her own undue and unjust actions. A bitterness that lingered, festered, and now that she had caught him in his own mess, like he had to her, it was too poetic for her to let things go.

Joel resigns a few weeks later, your interaction minimal—he doesn’t even speak directly to you anymore. He feels like he’s being watched, judged, under constant scrutiny. The reality was that no one knew what had transpired, but it felt louder than ever. The rest of the year is quiet and dull, but you manage.

And the months that follow, they’re fine. But, the spark you had for literature then, even if slightly skewed by Joel and his nefarious obsession with you, never really returns.

The divorce comes several months later for Joel—it isn’t quiet. It’s messy, it’s difficult. Despite his willingness to comply with Tess’s conditions over his pseudo-fling with you, she goes back on her word. Eventually though, he cuts his ties and moves on. And it shouldn’t freak him out that he sees your face in his mind every night after nearly a year of knowing you, but it’s the way he’s memorized every detail about you that paints itself in vivid pictures.

Eventually things get easier and you move on, but Joel can’t bring himself to forget.

He leaves a voicemail on the day of your graduation, a couple years passed, and he still knows—he memorized the day and even if it was without intention, he still feels the pull. To explain or apologize. Something.

He can’t explain why he’s so hung up on the moments he shared with you until the words begin to pour out. And you find yourself curled up on your bed the night of graduation, exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically—but then you see his name on your phone and you break.

You press play on the voicemail and place the phone on the bed.

‘I really…don’t know if you’ll even listen to this. I don’t expect you to, but I wanted to apologize. I manipulated a shitty situation to my advantage to forget my own problems. The shit going on within my own marriage. That wasn’t your fault…and you’re young. I shouldn’t have entertained it and I did. I liked the attention. The attention you gave me and it was wrong. If you ever want to…I don’t know, talk things out? I would like that, but I understand if you ignore this completely. I would too. A long, drawn out breath that delves into a sigh. Uh, congratulations on the graduation. I’m sorry this took so long for me to say. Yeah…anyways, goodbye.”

The abrupt ending is bittersweet, rolling your eyes at his tone. It’s clipped, void of emotion. He’s masking and you can hear it. It only pisses you off further, unable to believe the genuineness in his message or tone so no—you don’t give him the chance to talk it out. And Joel Miller fades from your mind from then on, a distant and bitter memory.

Three Years Later

Working at a local publication company in Austin was never the plan, but it was the fastest thing you could grasp after graduation and several failed internships later—and the money was decent. You had an apartment in the city, close to work, and an easier turnaround time when you needed to get something to the office on an emergency or whim.

You were a lower level employee, editing and working around the simpler marketing for author’s that—most of the time, you didn’t even know the name of. You were meant to take the brunt of the work before it was delivered to the actual team of publication for everything that they didn’t want to handle. Which often included lunch as well, daily, coffee orders every morning, and tasks that felt never ending.

But the one time you did receive a break was the publishing parties. Authors would throw a nice party for the team and a long, never-ending list of connections that led for it to be more of a schmoozy get together than anything.

You went for the alcohol, the food, and the entertainment.

Which, thankfully—they all proved to have a ton of.

So, it should be any other Friday when you walk into the bar downtown, filled to the brim with patrons and company people who were there in attendance and support of the author, who you still had yet to meet. You’d been working on the book for months now, getting small snippets of things to correct and proofread when you weren’t running around to fetch things, but sometimes the curiosity is really just too much.

You grab a drink first, sipping on the sweet mix of liquor and syrup as the people filter in and spread, conversing in a low hum that quickly divulges into a cheer as someone makes their way through the door. They’re muffled by the crowd, loud pats of congratulation and claps that aren’t entirely necessary—but everyone had been anticipating the book to be a best-seller in record time. A book of delicate poetry, beautiful and thoughtful. It was something that brought you back to a time long forgotten, sitting in your bed during your freshman year of college, flitting through the recommendations of a professor that had nearly disappeared off the face of the earth.

So, when your eyes land on Joel Miller as he pushes through the crowd, the pit in your stomach grows and swells to an unbearable size.

He’s different in every way but still inexplicably him—he seemed softer, relaxed. His hair was grown out and curling over his ears and down his forehead, curls tickling against his skin and he sported a full beard, more than he ever allowed himself while he worked as your professor the interim year he was there, patchy in places you don’t realize until he comes closer, still unaware of your presence.

You recognize the suit, though—he’s worn it a million times, week after week and it feels too overwhelming now, knowing you both had left things unfinished. 

Your intentions then weren’t the same as now and you’re almost positive he could say the same—even if you did keep your vindictive streak to get things you wanted, Joel was the only person who had managed to push you in a way that brought out that side of you.

You turn on your heels as a woman catches his attention, smiling brightly and too touchy to be considered a stranger, your back facing him now. You wave and smile at a few passing co-workers, also giving a small murmur of congratulations to Joel before you feel a hand on your back, half ready with your hand balled into a fist before you hear his voice over your shoulder.

It’s a soft whisper of your name, irreverent fondness in his tone, “How’s the open bar?”

He’s folding a jacket over his arm as he squeezes into the small space between you and another person, palm flattened out against the bar as he awaits your answer.

And for once, you don’t have anything to say. 

Your mouth opens once, twice, before quietly snapping shut.

Joel breaks out into a slight smile, “I saw your name on the guest list—I just thought I’d say hi.”

“I didn’t—” You take a shallow breath and press the half-empty glass against the surface, “I don’t usually know anything about who we’re working on publication for, if I had known…I just—”

His hand is a gentle press against your clothed arm, curling around your bicep, “Hey—no harm, no foul. Did you…like my book, at least?”

You chuckle softly, “Uh—yeah, of course. I think that goes without saying. I almost got fired for not providing enough notes when they asked, but I didn’t feel like anything needed to be changed.”

Joel smiles brighter, but his lack of response is palpable.

He nods, pointing at your drink, “Take advantage—seein’ as it’s paid for.”

And you feel the moment fleeing as he turns away for a brief moment and orders his own drink, thankful for the short moment of calm as he didn’t have to constantly talk shop, so your curiosity gets the better of you. You didn’t know when you would ever see him again now that he was standing in front of you—unfinished business and all.

“How are things?” You ask—it’s a vague question that without your past would seem harmless. But, Joel understands. He spots the worry in your brow where it creases subtly in the middle and he chews at his bottom lip, taking the drink that is slipped into his hand.

His ring finger is still bare and he raises the hand up, curled around the glass with eyes that peek over the rim, squinting at your playfully, feigning innocence. 

“Good,” He tells you when brings his drink down to his chest, “Uh—some roadblocks trying to get back into writing but…it’s been alright. And Tess, she’s—I don’t really know how she is but we also haven’t spoken in over two years. Last thing I heard was that she was getting engaged.”

Your eyes widen by the sudden influx of information, surprised by how forthright and open Joel was being, “Oh—that’s…good? For her, I guess.”

Joel chuckles softly and raises his eyebrows in response, agreeing with the uncertainty in your statement. You had grown so accustomed to his small quirks and body language that it was coming back to you in waves, like they had never left. But, the booming voice of a few men on the other side of the bar grab Joel’s attention and he looks slightly disturbed of his peace but offers a quiet apology before leaving you alone, left to process what the fuck was happening.

For someone you haven’t seen in a few years, it shouldn’t make you feel so at ease in their presence and you hate the way it lingers and aches the moment he leaves. The same push and pull that you felt so long ago, it’s overwhelming. 

You finish your drink quietly, watching the warm, orange sky morph into nightfall and you attempt to slink out quietly, having had your fill on alcohol and surprises for the night. And the activity in the bar had only ramped up more in the lingering time—but the fingers around your wrist stop you, stretching through the crowd as you spin slowly on your heels.

“Follow me?” Joel asks lowly in the space between you when you turn to him, difficult to hear under the roar of the crowd but he nudges his head in a far off direction and you nod, feet moving before your brain can process.

Joel yanks you gently into a small, unisex bathroom with a stall in the corner. It’s big enough that you can rest against an opposite wall while he presses up against the door, looking slightly flushed from the alcohol but calm—it’s strange seeing him now, outside of the setting of his work.

Also, time had passed and he’s grown and processed things in the interim.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask about you,” He begins—Joel had only wanted a quiet place to talk to you, bothered by the idea of you the entire night for more than a few reasons, but most importantly, he just needed to know, “how…things have really been?”

“I graduated, but I’m sure you know that,” You tell him, his gaze trailing down as he remembers the half-assed message and apology he left you, “got a job after way too many attempts and failing and I’m living in an apartment here in Austin, it’s a few blocks away from the publishing company. It’s not bad—I thought things would be easier. But… I can’t complain. I mean, I could—there’s really no point, though.”

Joel’s nostrils flair in amusement as his chest vibrates with a laugh, hands tucked behind him as he leaned against the surface, suit jacket having disappeared…somewhere. Now, it was the tight pull of his chest under his shirt, the gaps in his buttons covered by the long stretch of his tie.

You cross your arms gently, one leg hooking over the other as you lean the weight of your shoulder into the wall similarly, the cold breeze of the unheated bathroom brushing against your thighs and you were silently cursing yourself for wearing such a short skirt in the biting cold weather at the end of fall, rolling into winter with a force.

“I can see that hasn’t changed.” Joel comments slyly and you squint your eyes in his direction, wondering his angle. Truthfully, he didn’t have one. 

You roll your eyes momentarily, biting away the smile that creeps onto your face as you look away briefly, distracted by the buzzing, overly luminescent light above your head. The tension between you two had never left, that much was apparent. 

“So, how has single life been?” You ask, feeling silly at the way you word it, but given his openness to tease you so easily, you felt the need to do it back.

Joel begins with a subtle warning of your name that has you huffing out a laugh of indifference.

“What?” You say in playful defense, “It’s just a question. You don’t have to answer it.”

Joel shakes his head fondly, though the bitter memories begin to flood back.

“I’m not your student anymore,” You point out, “it’s not like you’re breaking any rules by talking to me. It’s been…years, Joel. I think we’re both different people by now.”

Were you? That was entirely debatable.

“It’s been fine.” Joel gives you as little detail as possible, which is a telltale sign that he was masking, but you can’t ignore the way his eyes drag over your figure even if for a brief second.

You nod in response, not pushing the topic any longer.

“So, what’s this about?”

Joel makes a small noise in question and you tilt your head accusingly, lips pursed into a sneaky smile.

“I was on my way out,” You tell him, “now I’m here—with you. So, what’s the deal?”

“I wanted to catch up,” Joel admits–though it’s mostly a lie, “is that a crime?”

“Mmm, but here’s the problem,” You counter him, “you’re not really doing much talking. You ask some lame, basic question to cover up whatever excuse you had to get me in here. Seriously, Joel—what’s up?”

Joel sighs, chin touching his chest as he stares at the floor, “Still so goddamn stubborn.”

It’s like a trigger, soles patting against the ground as you approach him. His gaze pulls up slowly, first at your feet, then your chest, until he lands on your face. Delicate fingers press against his chest, his arms falling to his side as you press in closer and trace your fingers upwards, brush against his jawline.

You grin at the way Joel swallows tensley under your gaze, opposite hand wrapping into the length of his tie and pulling him into you, pressing your lips against his without another thought.

This kiss was new, different. Like pressing lips against a stranger with a renewed interest, not entwined in the throes of his divorce and a shitty marriage that kept him tied down and riddled with guilt, he kisses back with a force, boring conversation long forgotten.

Deft fingers turn the lock silently, a faint click of recognition as Joel leads you toward the empty stall with roaming hands, coat brushed down your shoulders and draped over a nearby hand dryer as he huddles you into the small space and watches as you pull away briefly to lock it with a giddy smile, lip pulled between your teeth as the lock slips into place and he stares at you openly, an unhinged hunger behind his eyes that he attempted to keep it bay so long ago.

“I have an idea.” Your voice is creeping suspicion in Joel’s mind and he sees your smile soften, an undertone in the wait as your fingers stretch along the expanse of his neck, leaning into him fully as he presses against the opposite wall of the stall, faces only a few millimeters apart as you breathe into him, noses brushing gently.

“That sounds like trouble.” Joel admits, your eyes dilating under his gaze as your excitement reaches your eyes, skin wrinkling slightly at the corners as you laugh.

“I don’t know,” You reply airily, “I think you’ll like this one.”

Joel’s game, eyebrows raised in question as you descend slowly—for anyone else, offering up a blowjob on the floor of a shoddy, questionable bathroom, you’d immediately decline and foremost, wouldn’t even offer. But, this was Joel. 

The Joel that, despite years of time between his company, still culminated at the forefront of your mind all of the sudden. Fleeting memories, things that threatened to remind you of him, a bitter afterthought. But now, it was sweet—tangible and finally within reach. You were seizing the opportunity to close things out, even if you knew you would never see him again.

And damn his months of unintentional abstinence, Joel is unbuckling his belt and unfastening his pants at an embarrassing speed with the assistance of your eager hands, instantly cradling your head as you wrestle with the few layers of fabric before his cock is heavy in your hands and hardening with even the minimalist of touch, his mouth hung open slightly as your tongue press flat against the underside of his cock, tracing along the jut of a vein that leads to his head, circling as you pull taut at his shaft and reacting openly to the tight squeeze he gives to your jaw, eyes falling shut with a gasp as he urges with silence for you to put him out of his misery and take his cock into your mouth.

Enough teasing. He knew you were both far beyond that.

There’s a lightness to your movements, inhibitions slightly skewed. You suck at his cock greedily, hollowing out your cheeks and allowing your hand to cover the length of his shaft that your mouth can’t reach and the hand that isn’t cradling your face is pressed against the stall door for leverage. There’s a crease in his forehead from how hard he’s scrunching his face up, willing himself to focus albeit how overwhelming you are in the moment and then you’re speaking to him, needy and soft.

“Look at me Joel,” You plead, tip brushing against your lips as you kiss the head and take him once more, bobbing your head slowly as he opens his eyes, and that familiar heat sets in his gaze, “there’s nothing to worry about this time—it’s just us.”

His hand is a soothing touch against your jaw, slowly trailing until his palm is cradling your head, “That’s—hm, that’s the problem. Don’t have much time.” Oh, right. This was his party after all.

“Riiiight,” You reply snarkily when you pull, feeling the gentle squeeze of his fingers against your neck as his hand settles there and rests, “guest of honor and all that, I suppose.”

Joel wasn’t letting you go that easy, though. He pushes you away gently and helps you rise to your feet, a slow progress of crowding you against the corner adjoining the stall door and the wall and his fingers slip under your skirt, digging into the supple skin of your thighs and he breathes, takes in your scent as he buries his face into your neck and he groans, so soft you almost don’t hear it. Almost.

 “You still like fucking college girls? Or was that a one time thing?” You tease, earning another less than gentle squeeze before his hand is traveling down your center and over the wet fabric of your panties, covered with your slick and you moan out—guilty, and he settles with pulling them to the side for quick access, dipping a finger inside of you and chuckling at how familiar it feels, walls squeezing around the digit and you huff, “Dirty old man, Mr. Miller.” 

“Just one. Annoying little brat that she is.” Joel admits, his stiff cock prodding at your thigh as he slips another finger inside of you, your grip tightening against the fabric stretched over his shoulders, head banging deftly against the surface behind you as you moan, “And just so we’re clear—don’t ever fucking call me that again.”

It never really fit him anyways.

“Got it.” You reply softly, staring at him half-lidded as his thumb brushes over your clit and he’s so close—right fucking there, dick pressed against your thigh but he won’t cross that line, not unless you ask. Luckily, you’re selfish even under a time crunch, “Joel—need it.”

“Need what, baby?” His breath is hot against your ear as he mouths at your skin sloppily, fingers leaving you empty as they rub collectively over your sensitive clit, “Such a beautiful way with words, let me hear you say it.”

“Fuck—” You breath rough, a sharp breath, “your cock, Joel. Want you inside of me.”

Fortunately, Joel’s never been more impatient as he pulls your thigh up and over his hip, his fingers holding the fabric of your panties to the side as he presses inside of you steadily, selfishly watching your reaction as he splits you open—a stark difference from the first time. He was disconnected, emotionless, trying to prove a point. But, this was so much more. 

It was everything he couldn’t say before.

“Stop—stop that,” You laugh softly, fingers gripping over the edge of the stall as he Joel fucks into you with sharp, precise thrusts. He was searching, determined that no time was wasted, but still admiring the catch of a gasp or moan in your throat every time he hit a particular spot inside of you that rendered you nearly speechless, “stop looking—at me like that.”

And Joel has the gull to smirk, lip pulling between his teeth as he angles you back and hikes your thigh up a fraction and that—oh, that was perfect and your grip slips and falls to his chest, wrinkling the fabric under your tight grasp as he leans in, lips pressed unmoving against your own as he thrusts into you wildly, the deafening sound of skin against skin and noises breathed into each other’s mouths.

“Touch yourself, baby,” He pleads and you thought the first time was a one off, a slip of the tongue in such a heated moment but it rings in your ears and warms your body with a faint buzz of adoration and allowed yourself to feel special and reserved only to him for that moment, “come with me?”

You reply with a shaky nod, feeling his hand guide yours between your bodies and settle over your cunt, rubbing over your clit in quick and determined circles as he spoke soft praises against your skin.

Good girl, sweet thing, look so pretty like this while you’re taking my cock.

And you’re hit with an immense rush of emotion as you come around him, his thrusts faltering in time with your cunt as you squeeze around him, “Fuck—I’m gonna come, gonna—” He pulls his hips back slightly but you’re reeling him back in with your heel, offering a small head shake.

Inside, you plead wordlessly.

It does him in—hand grazing over your breasts, tongue dipping into your mouth as he squeezes at the flesh and snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a long, drawn out groan that precedes a long moment of silence as you both come down in synchronized breaths.

Joel hasn’t moved either, cock still buried inside of you but slowly softening.

“Work for me,” He says suddenly, head resting against the wall as he looks at you, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his fingers massaging the sore muscles in your thigh, “please?”

Your brow furrows tiredly, “What?”

“Come and work for me,” He asks once more, “I can offer you a job.”

“Joel, that’s—”

You whine softly at the loss of him as he slips out of you, but silently thankful for your achy muscles—and you think Joel will leave it at that, but he’s taking your face between his hands, urging you to look at him, “Look at me and tell me you’re happy there.”

You swallow a lump in your throat and look back at him, the words perched on your tongue.

You couldn’t lie to him. Not about this.

“I saw your name weeks ago—” Joel removes his hands and redresses slowly, watching as you adjust yourself to a more presentable manner, despite the feeling of his cum dampening your panties even more than they were before, “thought I was fuckin’ hallucinating.”

Still, you’re not sure where it’s coming from. Three years of silence and now this, his cum dripping down your legs and a proposition that sounds far too good to be true.

“I need an assistant,” He admits, “Someone to help me keep track of all this shit. Everyone I’ve hired, it just doesn’t stick.

You unlock the door behind your back and file out, watching Joel stuff his shirt back into his pants with a little too much force, shifting from heel to heel as he walks, “So, you’re desperate? And you thought fucking me would help your chances?”

You’re teasing him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Immediately, his head snaps up, eyes full of concern that you misconstrued his intentions and he knows he’s fucked up again—again. He fucks up everything.

“I’m fucking with you.” You crack a gentle smile and his hammering heart slows.

“I need someone who won’t bullshit me about my writing,” Joel tells you, “real—honest feedback. Someone that knows me.”

Your hands fall behind your back, fingers interlocking as you step toward him again, playfully kicking your foot out at him, “So, the whole blind worship thing, kissing ass—it’s not for you? Because…that can be arranged too, I don’t mind.”

He says your name in warning and you pull back with a soft laugh, “I can give you a bigger picture tomorrow, after…all this. We can work things out. You can sign an official contract. I’m not trying to play you on this.”

And maybe history was repeating itself, something Joel refused to acknowledge.

“Isn’t that what got us into this mess?” You ask, allowing Joel to adjust the flap of your jacket over your chest as you slip it back onto your body, “Teacher…student…boss…”

You don’t have to fill in the rest. Joel’s pointer finger trails up the center of your chest, nudging at your chin and pulling your attention in, lips parted slightly.

“I can keep things professional,” Joel lies, “can you?”

You mouth a silent no as you shake your head and his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to write a few stipulations into the agreement.”

“I never said I agreed,” You retorted playfully, “did I?”

“Suppose I’ve got a bit of convincing to do then,” Joel smirks, “—is your number still the same?”

You shrug innocently—of course it was and truthfully, Joel never had the thought to delete it. Letting it gather dust in his contacts, finger hovering over it from time to time. Wondering.

“You still have my email,” Joel laughs at that, barely, cracking a gentle smile, “send me the details—I’ll let you know if I’m interested.”

“And if there’s any way I can sweeten that interest—”

You lean in mockingly, eyes looking over his facial expression, clearly amused with himself as your nose brushes against each other and you speak into the quiet space between you both.

“Keep it in your pants, alright? I’ll consider it.”

Joel couldn’t let you slip through his fingers, not again.

But, you knew you were doomed from the moment he set eyes on you.

[mayisgoingnuts]

I saw the requests for fics were open I just need to ask if it's ok to put one in and if it's ok to have an x reader even if platonic bc honestly I'm in a mood lol and I am craving LER ALASTOR idk why and I love your fics and you are a great writer

Author's note: EVERYTHING I NEEDED WAS AN IDEA AND WHEN YOU POSTED THAT ONE PROMPT I WENT

I KNOW WHAT I GOT TO DO NOW.

————————————————————————

"Good night"

Summary: You were struggling to sleep that night, so in defeat, decided to just give up and stay up all night. Sadly for you, Alastor didn't exactly approved your idea.

Warnings: Swearing.

————————————————————————

Bags under your eyes would appear if you didn't go to sleep, and you knew it pretty well. It sucks, really sucks, but laying down on your bed doing nothing and being unable to finally take a good night of sleep sucks the double of those two combined.

As much as the TV wasn't that entertaining, it was enough to keep you awake and slightly less bored.

3AM, still nothing. You took a nap on the couch, but then woke up again. Did you actually took a nap? Or did you brain just turned off? Not sure, not bothered enough to care.

But, suddenly, something else finally got your eyes off of the screen.

"And what are you doing down here so late?"

The sudden voice made you stop on your tracks, jump even, as it came right after hours of silence.

"Jesus fucking Christ Alastor, I almost had a heart attack!" You took a deep breath, calming yourself down. "I'm just watching TV."

Alastor looks to the TV with the corner of his eyes, squeezing them slightly to show his displeasure. "Those things can be quite unhealthy at this time, my dear. Why don't you just turn this off and go to sleep?"

"Because I don't wanna and I can't sleep." You didn't even wanted to sound abrupt, but your filters slowly disappear when you grow more and more tired.

"Now that's just rude." Replied, not offended at all but rather keeping this in his mind for later. "Can't sleep, you say? Well, I have a solution for that." He added with a confident grin.

"...does it include hitting my head onto a wall to knock me out or something?"

Alastor stared at you with a blank face, blinking a few times. "Two solutions."

You rolled your eyes and finally sat, raising an eyebrow. "What solution?"

Alastor lets out a snicker, and with a single snap of his fingers, both of you are back on your room. You fell on your bed a bit too aggressively, but it's not like he cares.

"We only need to get rid of that energy of yours. I'm sure it'll be as easy as pie, you're already almost falling asleep."

"Uh... okay... and what's your plan, exactly?"

Your question made him look at you mischievously, which startled you and already made you let your guard up.

"Alastor-"

But before you could react, something pinched your side right behind you. As you looked, it was one of Alastor's little creatures. Is that a little man? A doll? A little demon? A pet? Whatever this thing is, made you flinch with a single touch.

And just like Alastor could spawn one of those, getting more of them needed the exact same effort.

"What are those??"

"Oh, I never really gave them names, so call them whatever you want. They're also harmless."

Three of them surrounded you, poking your upperbody in different spots while giggling.

"H-Hey! Gehehet off!" They may be weird but also looked weirdly adorable, what made you hesitated on pushing them away. "Thehehey're tick-"

But you stopped yourself right away. It got the other demon's attention, since your fit of giggles was definitely not the cause of the sudden hold up.

"Did you just interrupted yourself?" He asked teasingly, leaning towards you with a more bratty smile.

"Whahahat?! Nohohoho!"

Alastor shrugged, throwing his staff lightly from one hand to another. "If that's the case, I must have misunderstood. After all, there's no reason for you to not say 'tickle'." His head turned back to you, curiously. "Correct?"

As they keep tickling you, you ended up falling on the bed, rolling back and fourth as a poor attempt to escape. "ShuhUHUHUT UP!"

The deer chuckled at your reaction to it. "Oh, I'm not the one who should! Your volume may wake up someone in the hotel."

"Thehehen STOHOP!"

Your words entered his ear and leaved the other, or even worse, didn't even entered in any at the first place, as everything he did was look at his nails.

"I can't, I already promised to help. It is getting you tired after all-"

"FUHUHUHUCK!!"

Your tone suddenly increased in a... huge volume. More than he expected, what startled the guy. Wanting or not, if anyone wakes up he'll end up getting in trouble aswell, so he's thinking twice about his plans.

However, something is off for him. Once you lay down, you didn't got up again nor tried to. It definitely isn't bothering you as much as it looks like, and this fact did not make it worse for himself. More likely to be the opposite, as an encouragement.

The inner conflict was agonizing to keep, and Alastor's eyes show that. With a sigh mixed with a humming, he snaps his fingers, finally sparing you from the shadows.

Your laughter slowly died down, and without realizing, your face shifts to one of disappointment.

"Hah... heh... what..?"

The taller one sits by your side, avoiding visual contact but, for some reason, not the physical one.

Before you could react, Alastor quickly recomposed himself, looking at you with a cheeky grin once again while his own hand touches your stomach.

"It is unfair for me to get punished because of your sensitivity, so I'll try something lighter this time."

The demon's fingers began to scratch, but not hurt, tickling you in a slow yet surprisingly effective way. You grabbed his wrist, but didn't have the courage to take it off as you knew it would come to an end if you did.

Your chuckles, snorts, cackles, any noises you would make, would spread the room as long as he wanted, and the silence would only return once you're finally asleep.

[creachureboy]

I Trust You (Sniper x reader)

Notes

Once again something that's been in my drafts for a long time. Apologies if the ending is abrupt, but I did try to smooth it out.

You don't have to be asexual to read but my intention was for both sniper and the reader to be ace

Reader's flavour of asexuality is "i dont know what sexual attraction is, i just crave intimacy"

This was completely me projecting into writing because i was so confused about my sexuality so i hired sniper to help me figure it out

Non-sexual body appreciation

Established relationship

You sat beside Sniper in his camper, leaning against his side as the sharp scraping sounds of him sharpening his kukri echoed in the cramped space. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed since either of you had said a word, but you both remained peaceful in the silence. Like an ocean of trust, where not a word needed to be spoken for you both to know you enjoyed each others company - to feel safe.

But a thought tugged at your mind, one you had been meaning to bring up for a while. It itched and burned, causing your heart to skip, and you wondered if your boyfriend could hear it. "Mick, I, uh-" you leaned bacward into the seat so he wouldn't be able to see your face without turning. "I wanted to tell you about something."

He did not turn to you, he did not stop his actions. He only hummed low in his throat, urging you to continue.

"I've been thinking about what sexual attraction means to me."

He paused to see if you would continue, but piped up when you didn't. "Okay."

You leaned closer to his side, realising you wanted his warmth more than you wanted to hide your embarassment. "I don't find people sexually attractive - but you know that." You took in a deep breath, the warm and familiar smell of his van putting you in relative ease. "But I do find people-" you nearly stammered, but didn't, "you, physically.. uh, appealing. For lack of a better word." In reality, you knew exactly what word you were going for. "I realise, what I personally crave is the intimacy."

He stopped for a moment, and it was convenient how he tilted his face away ever so slightly, obscuring his expression from your view. "What kind of intimacy?"

"I want to feel like I can be completely vulnerable with someone-" you paused, "you." You leaned forward a bit, hoping to catch his eye contact. "I want to be able to be open with you about my body."

He observed his kukri closely, as if it wasn't an excuse to continue averting eye contact. It wasn't that he didnt want to look at you, he simply felt it was less invasive that way. "Do you.. not already feel that you can?"

"I mean- I do. But it's not that. What I mean is-" you gestured with your hands, as if it would help him understand, "like.. okay, tell me of this makes you uncomfortable." You leaned back to nuzzle your cheek in his shoulder. It wasn't that you didn't want to look at him, you simply felt less embarrassed that way. "I want to be able to touch your body. Not in a sexual way, but I just.. I admire it sometimes."

You paused, and Mick almost spoke up, but you continued.

"Your body is.. yours. It's so unique to you, and I find it so beautiful. I wanna touch it."

He continued sharpening his kukri, and you only vaguely remembered when he stopped. "I want to do that for you too."

"Oh." Your reaction didn't properly express how your heart leapt into your throat. "I just.. but I'll be honest, I feel so comfortable with you that-" you took a deep breath, "I don't think I'd be uncomfortable if became anything sexual. But I don't want to approach you with that kind of intention, y'know?"

He stopped again.

You frowned. "Did that make you uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Okay, good." You tried to peek over at his face, which was difficult to read as always. But with the way his eyes were trained on his kukri like it was the only thing in the world, you could tell he was simply nervous.

He then stood up, walking over to put away his weapon and the supplies, before taking his vest off and hanging it on the back of the driver's seat.

You stood up to follow him, giving him a hug from behind and resting your head against his back.

"So, uh, where do I start?"

You looked up at the back of his head, but noticed his reflection in the rear view mirror, his eyes darting around nervously. "What do you mean?"

"With touching you."

You smiled sheepishly and hummed in thought. "Already? Um, well-" you twiddled your thumbs that were aroind his waist, "is there anywhere you've ever wanted to touch me, but were afraid to ask?"

He ran his fingers along yours, and you watched his Adam's apple bob in his reflection. "Your-" he paused, "back."

"My back?" He would often hold onto your bare back to pull you close when you cuddled, so why was he asking now? "Sure. But, is that it?"

He caught eye contact with you in the mirror for a split second, before turning around to hug your head close to his chest. "There's more. But I reckon we should work our way up to that."

You glanced at the curtains, grateful for the fact Mick usually kept them drawn.

He leaned back a little, looking at you in the eye with a soft gaze only reserved for you. "Just.. tell me if you dont like it."

"Of course."

So he pulled you close one more time as his hands made his way up the back of your shirt. His fingers traced cautious lines up your spine, while his other hand caressed your waist.

You leaned back a little to look up at him, smiling softly.

His hands stuttered for a moment, before continuing. "Is this okay?"

You nestled your head in his chest comfortably. "It's nice."

He leaned forward, and you felt his chapped lips brush gently against your forehead as he kissed you lightly. You continued to relax in his arms, letting the warms of his hands engulf you.

---

From then on, there were many moments where you two would simply touch each other.

Once when you had a stomach ache, when he pulled you close and stuck his hands under your shirt to rub your tummy comfortingly.

Another time, when you approached him from behind while he was changing, giving him a surprise hug.

And just in general, if you guys were together and your shirt would ride up, there was never any need to fix it.

You also more openly stared at him while he changed, and he did the same for you. Just so many things about him were beautiful to you. The scars decorating his body, the tan lines, his body hair, the curvature of his body..

And he let you stare to your heart's content, as if it was a non-verbal way to say he trusted you with his whole heart. That he let you witness all of his imperfections, all of the details of his body that he wouldn't share with anyone else. That was all yours to see. And hopefully with time, you would get to see more of it, as for him with you.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 12

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Word : 6k

Masterlist

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Tuesday, November 3; 6:15 AM - Ona and Alexia's room.

I stand straight as a rod beside my bed. Bronze has just entered. I’m glad I haven’t lost my morning routine. I didn’t face any difficulty except that waking up was hard and abrupt due to the alarm. Luckily, my day of rest yesterday helped me recover and find motivation again. The disagreement with Bronze was quickly forgotten. I woke up alone. She had let me sleep while she went back to work. I found out when she returned just before noon to have lunch with Engen and me. She wanted us to eat before the midday bell. At least she spared me the rush hour. After that, she allowed me to stay in her room for the rest of the day as long as I didn't venture out. I promised it wasn’t my intention. I once risked it, and it didn’t end well for me. I just wanted to keep busy with movies, which I did until dinner time. I had to stop to eat with the two instructors, as agreed with Bronze. It was hard to change her mind. I was disappointed to end the day by returning to my room. I enjoyed hiding in her room. It had become my den, isolating me from the world. Needless to say, I was worried about reintegrating with the students. Bronze accompanied me to discreetly help me bring back my things. All it took was stepping into my room for any unease to vanish, thanks to Alexia. She welcomed me like a little whirlwind, not wanting to let go. It seems she eagerly awaited my return. Bronze had kept her updated regularly, but it didn’t stop her from worrying and missing me. Today, I return to the real world. Classes resume at eight. I have a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. I still don’t feel ready to return, but I have no choice. I show no signs of distress and patiently wait for Bronze to finish her inspection. It’s almost strange seeing her so impassive and expressionless again. It wasn’t like that in her room.

You can go.

Alexia doesn’t hesitate to head to the exit. I follow, but Bronze stops me by holding my arm. I turn to face her.

How are you feeling?

Better... No more fever, no nausea. I don't have much muscle pain either... I replied.

So, are you ready?

Uh-huh. I don't have a choice anyway.

Good.

I look at her attentively, squinting slightly. She’s not like usual. I don’t know what’s different, but something seems off. There’s only one way to find out...

So, how’s my work after a week? Is it done properly, Commander? I teased.

The princess finally follows the rules; that’s good, she retorts without a hint of humor.

I frown. That’s not the response I expected. I thought she’d play along. I examine her more closely. Now that I pay attention, her eyes seem swollen. And she has visible dark circles.

Are you okay?

We recently had a discussion about friendship, Batlle. It didn’t end well, so stop trying to be friendly and go eat, she orders.

She’s clearly not herself. It’s been a long time since she called me by my last name. And for such a small matter. It’s not like I asked a personal question. She’s not well, and I can’t do anything about it. I let her go, feeling powerless. I stare at the door for a moment, completely frustrated. She just brushed me off.

Ona, you coming?

I pull myself together at my roommate's call. I expected her to be gone already. Well, whatever. Bronze is right after all. She’s not my friend. It’s not my place to worry about her, even though I do and would have liked to be there for her.

Yeah, sorry. I'm coming, I say, returning her smile.

Our relationship has evolved since she learned I’m a former junkie. I feel I can trust her. I’ve grown attached to her. She seems to feel the same. She keeps saying we need to make up for the lost time of this past week.

What did Bronze want? she asks.

Just checking if everything’s okay, I shrug. She’s just doing her job.

I see.

She smiles at me in a way I can’t quite describe. I don’t dwell on it. I’m eager to get to the cafeteria. I’ll see the others, and my appetite is back. This will be my first breakfast after a long week of abstaining. I intend to savor it. When we reach the table, everyone is happy to see me. They ask if I’m feeling better. It seems no one knows about my withdrawal except Alexia and Leah. Wiegman and the four educators in charge must have covered it up as a flu absence. At least I’m spared the cliché stories about my past and pitying looks. Everything goes well this new morning. I just have a lot of questions about Bronze, who completely ignored me when she passed our table. I hope it’s not my fault. I don’t see what I did wrong, except for that conversation the other night. She didn’t seem resentful yesterday. Amidst all this, time flies. It’s almost time to return to class. We walk through the hallways to our first lesson.

I’ll join you, I tell Alexia. I need to use the restroom.

As you wish, but hurry up. It’s almost time.

Yeah, I’ll be quick.

I leave her to enter the nearest restroom. I need to gather my thoughts for the start of this morning. I first use a stall, then wash my hands. I take the opportunity to splash water on my face. Why am I in such a state over something so minor? I feel weird, like I have a bad premonition. Damn responsible person. She annoys me by making me question so much. I hit the counter in frustration. I wipe my face and leave the restroom. I sigh, seeing the empty hallways. Great, now I’m late. Perfect for a return. I walk slowly and heavily toward my classroom. A few minutes won’t make a difference since I know I won’t be allowed in anyway. When I reach the door, I knock. It opens shortly after.

Miss Batlle makes her grand return and in style, the teacher remarks right away. You start well after more than a week of absence.

Sorry for being late.

Save your pretty words and go to the instructors’ office, will you?

Of course. I know the way! I retorted sarcastically.

What did I say? I wouldn’t be accepted. I reverse course to the office of Bronze and Engen, which I know very well. I had to do archiving with Bronze there on my first day before moving boxes upstairs. I knock on the already open door to announce my presence. It’s a large space where two desks face each other. There are several filing cabinets. Nothing exceptional. There are more than one such room on the first floor. Six to be exact. One for each instructor pair. Naturally, I’m assigned to my responsible person’s. I enter the room, and Engen looks up to greet me. She’s alone, which is strange. Bronze should be here.

Batlle, she calls, surprised. Already on the first day? What brings you here this time?

Late, I grumble, sitting on the chair in front of her desk.

Late? I saw you in the halls earlier. Did I allow you to sit?

Urgent need, I half-lied. I’m not standing until Bronze arrives. Especially since I just got back.

Bronze won’t be here today. I’ll handle you for the day.

What? I blurted out in surprise.

Is that a problem?

Now this is the last straw! She raises her head from her paper, arching an eyebrow. She’s not the problem. It’s Bronze’s absence. It’s a first! She’s never missed a day since I arrived.

Okay, what’s wrong with her? Is it me?

Excuse me? she frowns. What are you talking about?

Why is she absent?

She’s entitled to a day off, isn’t she? Especially after the week she had because of you. And why am I even telling you this? It’s none of your business.

I noticed she wasn’t well this morning...

I lower my head, feeling uneasy under Engen’s scrutiny. I have regrets and don’t even know why. Maybe I spoke too much when I hear her chuckle. I must look ridiculous. I bury my head in my collar, not daring to look at her.

I don’t know which of you two worries more about the other, she murmurs.

What?

Did I hear right? Bronze worries about me? Why would she? She was asking me to keep my distance this morning... So, she talks about me to Engen. This thought warms my heart.

It has nothing to do with you, Batlle. She just has a day off to rest from her week, she explains. Anyway, that’s the end of it. How many hours are you missing due to your refusal?

Two.

Well... she murmurs, thinking. Since she’s absent and she fell behind because of you... You have two hours to sort and alphabetize Bronze’s files, she says, pointing to my responsible person’s desk.

Bronze is more original with punishments.

Stop arguing, Batlle, and get to work.

Just as friendly as Bronze... I sigh and change places, settling into my manager's office chair. Engen looks at me strangely before a sly smile stretches across her lips. She doesn't ask me to move, surprisingly. She continues her work while I focus on the task she assigned me. I don't even know where to start given the number of files scattered on the desk. I don't ask for help and try to do my work without flinching. This place is literally changing me. Just a few days ago, I would never have accepted a punishment without complaining.

Tuesday, November 3; 6:45 PM - Cafeteria

I sit down at my seat, placing my tray on the table. My first instinct is to look at Bronze's table on the educators' side. She wasn't there all day. I know because I was late again this afternoon. Engen had to take care of me. I like her a lot, but Bronze is irreplaceable when it comes to creative punishments. I straighten up in my chair when I finally see her. She's there, at her table, with Engen! We are directly across from each other. It feels like our spots were meant to be. She talks to her colleague without acknowledging me. I hope Engen doesn't say anything. She noticed my remorse because she assured me all day that I had nothing to worry about. I let go, realizing I won't get any sign from her, and try to follow the conversation happening around the table.

"Seriously, it's you?" says Alba.

"You're really in trouble, girl ! They're looking for the culprit, and it looks bad according to the rumors!" adds Lotte.

"I don't care at all," says the one in question, who is none other than Leah.

"What did you do this time?" I ask, getting to the point.

"Oh, nothing very interesting. I just tagged the sign and the walls of the establishment."

"What!?"

"It's not just laps around the field you'll get this time," laughs Alexia. "What are you playing at, seriously? Are you trying to compete with Ona for the number of punishments or what?"

Without thinking, I stand up from my chair under the incomprehensible eyes of my friends. It's my only chance. Too bad if I regret it later. Hopefully, I won't feel bad in the meantime. I walk to the educators' area. I find myself between the two instructors and stare directly into Bronze's eyes. I know Engen is also looking at me, but she's not the one I'm interested in.

"It was me," I blurt out into the void.

"It was you what, Batlle?" Engen intervenes.

"The tags. I did them."

"What the—"

Bronze raised her hand to signal her colleague to be quiet. For the first time since this morning, her eyes land on me. Her green irises pierce through me, giving me goosebumps.

"Really?" she finally asks. "I leave you alone for one day, and you manage to do something like this? Why come forward only now?"

"To take responsibility for my actions. It would be stupid for someone else to face the consequences in my place," I respond confidently.

She looks me up and down. I really don't know if I made the right choice by accusing myself without reason. One thing is certain: it was the only way to get her attention.

"Very well. Go clear your tray," she orders. "I'll deal with you tonight, no matter what state you're in. And you won't even be able to complain tomorrow morning when you wake up."

I manage a smile. My plan worked! My God, it worked! I nod and backtrack to my table. I almost trot with impatience. I'm met with confused looks from everyone at the table.

"What just happened?" asks Alba.

"I pleaded Leah's case by accusing myself."

"What?!" Leah reacts. "But why did you do that? Besides, you're not even really in a state to—"

"Don't worry about it," I cut her off. "Be glad you won't get punished!"

I reassure her ass he knows about my situation regarding the withdrawal. I feel good for a first day, so it should be fine. I think I'm the only person who is eager to get a punishment from Commander Bronze.

"Later, guys."

I go to clear my tray where Bronze is already waiting at the end of the line. I feel her eyes on me the whole time; it's unsettling. Once I'm done, she turns her back to head towards the exit. I follow her without thinking. I take advantage of the silence to observe her. I'm glad to see she has regained her color since this morning. We pass by my room where she orders me to put on sportswear. The commander is back, and I'm almost happy about it. I hurry to change, and we head to the gym. I bite my lip to avoid complaining. I asked for this. It will help me get my muscles working again after lying in bed for a week. Leah will really owe me one for taking the blame for her! We wander through the corridors of the establishment, which are almost unfamiliar to me. I haven't had many sports classes as Bronze often punished me at the same time. We stop in front of a large door that she opens. She pushes me to discover the room. I take a step back, not seeing anything in the darkness. She prevents me from fleeing with an arm around my back and pushes me inside. I'm quickly trapped with her in the room. She turns on the lights to reveal the setting, leaving me speechless. My God, tell me I'm dreaming. We are in the climbing room. What is her goal? I turn to gauge my instructor. She smiles with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. We're starting with this, and then we'll see."

Oh my God... I feel dizzy. I hate climbing. I look at the top. It's really high. There must be at least ten meters of height there!

"What do I have to do?" I ask to be sure.

"It's obvious, Ona. You're going to climb up there," she says, pointing to the top of the wall.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" she retorts. "Stop talking to complain, or I'll have worse in store for you later! You'll do the one at the back. I'll belay you."

"Belay me?"

"Yes, I'll hold you with a rope. I could very well let you climb alone, so be glad."

"Bronze... I can't... I'm afraid of heights," I admit.

"Not my problem," she says indifferently. "You should have thought about that before. Here, take this."

My throat tightens when she hands me a harness. She really has no pity. I imitate her and reluctantly put on the harness. We move to the back of the room to reach the last route. Damn... What mess have I gotten myself into this time? I'll never make it. I'm really afraid of heights and not just a little! Just being on a chair already scares me. I inspect the wall in front of me, covered in numerous holds. Just imagining myself up there makes me dizzy. I look to my left to see an insurmountable wall named Bronze.

"Sorry, but I really can't..."

"It's not negotiable, you should know that. Just don't look down and trust me. Come here."

She ties the loop of my harness with the route's rope. She does it with such ease. I can no longer escape. She gives it a sharp tug to check the knot's solidity. I'm starting to panic. Bronze seems so comfortable with any sport, but that's not my case. She finally takes the other end of the rope to attach it to a metal loop she ties to her harness.

"There, we're ready. You can start. I gave you the easiest route. The holds are big and easy to reach. »

I sigh as I face the climbing wall. The last time I climbed was back in high school, and I was far from being any good. I start to climb, using one handhold, then two, then three... and I'm already stuck. I'm less than a meter off the ground, and I don’t know where to put my foot next.

"To the right, Batlle," she directs me.

"That's way too far!"

"Of course not. Use your legs to climb, not just your hands. You’ll never make it otherwise."

"What kind of punishment is this, seriously?" I snap.

"Alright, enough complaining. Climb that damn wall now. We’re not leaving until you reach the top."

And I know she's serious. Bronze likes things to be finished. Especially punishments. There’s never been one that I’ve abandoned halfway. I place my foot on the hold she indicated and muster all my remaining strength.

"See, you can do it when you try."

I continue climbing higher and higher. I had to stop several times after making the mistake of looking down. Bronze had to reassure me and encourage me to keep going. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s definitely late. I struggle to grasp another hold, and finally, I reach the top! I let out a proud yell, which makes Bronze laugh. It’s the first time I’ve succeeded, and it’s all thanks to her. She made sure I didn’t give up. I sigh in relief.

"Can you lower me down now?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'!?"

I wish I could see her face, just to know if she’s joking. Her voice doesn’t sound like she’s joking. Unfortunately, I can't verify it. I cling to the wall, trying not to let go.

"No. I’m not letting you down. Not yet."

"This isn’t funny! I’m really scared and can hardly hold on. Everything hurts!"

"I’ve got you. You’ll stay up there until you explain why you took the blame for something you didn’t do."

"Excuse me!? What makes you think that? I did it!"

"Those tags were done Sunday night, Ona. Last I checked, we spent the evening together. Besides, the drawings look like they were done by a kindergartener. It would be a disgrace for someone who practices art as a hobby. To top it off, we already found out who the culprit was just before dinner."

Damn it! She got me like a rookie. Here I am, stuck against this wall like an idiot. She brings me back to reality.

"So, Ona. Don’t mess with me and tell me the truth!"

I’m literally backed into a corner. I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall. I have no choice, I have to talk. My limbs are giving out, and my head is spinning. I’m trembling all over. I’ll lose my grip soon.

"I wanted to get your attention..."

"Get my attention?" she repeats, surprised. "Why?"

"You ignored me all day, and I noticed you weren’t doing well this morning... I was afraid it was because of me, even though Engen assured me otherwise."

"You can’t be serious, Ona? You got yourself accused of something so serious just to get to me!?"

"It seemed to be working until now..."

"You’re such an idiot!" she says bitterly. "But you’re brave, I’ll give you that. Alright, let go of the holds. I’ll lower you down."

"I can’t."

"Don’t be ridiculous. Let go!"

"I’m scared!"

She sighs as I cling tighter to the wall. I can’t help it; it’s stronger than me.

"Ona, there’s a reason I made you climb up there."

"Oh really?" I sneer bitterly.

"It’s a trust exercise. I need you to trust me, not just in climbing."

"Stupid exercise!"

I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I’m holding back tears that are welling up in my eyes.

"Ona, please, I won’t let you fall, I promise."

My trembling won’t stop. It’s an awful feeling. I close my eyes to fight against myself. I know I can trust her. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I take a deep breath before letting go without thinking. I squeak as I swing back and forth, hitting the wall. She stabilizes me before slowly lowering me down. I force myself to open my eyes to see myself floating in the air. My heart is pounding with fear, but it’s not so bad after all. I’m relieved once my feet touch the ground. I collapse against the wall, trying to regain my composure. Bronze smiles at me and crouches down to untie my knot. She really got me this time. She knew it wasn’t me. She just wanted to corner me to make me talk. She surprises me by placing her hand on my forehead to check my temperature.

"You haven’t had any more episodes?"

"No, it was fine today..." I murmur.

"Hmm. Engen told me that you were late. Was that also to get my attention?" she teases.

"The first one wasn’t. Well... not intentionally. The second was to check if you were absent for the day."

She raises an eyebrow before bursting into laughter. It’s a genuine, pleasant laugh. She shakes her head before leaning against the other wall. It’s true it would’ve been smarter to choose the other wall. The climbing wall’s features hurt my back, but I’m too exhausted to move now. I watch her pull her legs up and wrap her arms around them. It’s a very childlike position for her. I savor the silence that follows. I realize I missed her presence today. It doesn’t stop me from feeling stupid for confessing my obsession with her. I watch her stare at an invisible point in front of her, looking completely absent. Several minutes pass before she speaks again.

« Why?"

« What do you mean, « why »? »

« Why did you want to get my attention? » she repeats, finally looking at me intently. « It’s really confusing. Just a week ago, you hated me. »

I lower my head, thinking. She's right. It is confusing given everything I’ve said to her. I don’t even know when my feelings changed. I nervously play with my fingers. Admitting my true feelings would reveal too much. I sigh as I look at the ceiling.

« You’re the only one who cares about me here. Well, no. You’re actually the only one who’s cared about me for years, I correct myself. I appreciate the attention you give me, even if it’s sometimes annoying to have you on my back. I’m sorry for getting so worked up the other night. I felt like everything I thought was wrong and was afraid you’d become cold again like in the beginning . »

« What exactly were you thinking? »

"Well... I thought you were only helping me because you were ordered to. That you were doing it professionally and not because you liked me. »

« Of course, I’m doing it professionally, but not just that, Ona. By accepting Wiegman’s offer, I volunteered to supervise you and enforce the rules. That’s all. The rest is from me. »

I feel remorse now. I lower my head to hide my embarrassment. I’ve been making a fuss over something that doesn’t exist. I suddenly feel really foolish.

« If I really didn’t care about you, I would have let them send you to a rehab center like Wiegman and your mother planned, she adds. I dissuaded them because I trusted you, and I was right to. »

« Thank you…"

« I’m not doing much. »

« Yes, more than you think. »

« Like what, for example? »

« You’re the only one who can stand up to me. You punish me without mercy and manage to make me comply with orders I would never have followed before... You’re also the only one who pushes me to succeed in what I undertake. You show that you trust me, and that reassures me », I conclude.

I’m a real idiot. She wants the best for me, and I keep digging myself deeper. I watch her as she remains silent. She seems lost in thought.

« You have a very contradictory personality, you know? »

« What do you mean? »

« You act like a tough girl who doesn’t care about anything and is afraid of nothing, but after spending time with you... I’ve discovered that you have a serious lack of self-confidence. My punishments have chipped away at your armor. »

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say since she hit the nail on the head. Bronze is very observant. She just figured out that side of me without me wanting her to. I bite my lip.

« I wanted to thank you for what you did for me this week. »

« It’s normal. »

« I must admit it really pissed me off to see you so down this morning. You don’t hesitate to help me when I have issues, and I can’t even do anything for you. I thought about it so much that I went over every situation from last week, fearing I had done something wrong. »

I need to get this off my chest so she knows how I feel. I felt bad for her. I’m aware that our relationship is evolving, but I hope our attitudes won’t change. I really enjoy annoying her. It’s become my favorite pastime here. It’s fun, and I love that she takes care of me... Even if the punishments aren’t always great.

« I got dumped last night. »

I look at her in disbelief. I don’t know what surprises me more: the fact that she’s confiding something very personal or that she broke the rules. I had already asked her questions about herself, and she had kindly brushed me off.

« The commander dares to break rules? » I reply with humor. « And seriously, did someone actually want you?! »

« Of course they did! » she huffs, hitting me on the shoulder.

« Sorry, »I chuckled. « It was too tempting! »

I managed to get a small laugh out of her. She rests her head against the wall and closes her eyes. She really seems affected. I should have noticed this morning.

« He’s just an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. »

« Oh really?" she chuckles, looking at me.

« Absolutely. Even though you’re a super annoying commander... I imagine that outside these walls, you must be a nice person. I got a little glimpse of that this week. »

« I’ll remember those words. »

« Hey! That’s out of the question! I’m trying to cheer you up here! »

I managed to get her to laugh a little more. It’s nice to hear, and it reassures me at the same time.

« You say that, but you don’t even know what happened. For all you know, I could be the worst bitch. »

« Is that so?"

« I don’t think so. Only with you when you annoy me. »

« That’s mean. »

« Realistic. »

I smile at her response. I love having these casual, spontaneous conversations with her. I know it’s short-lived, so I’m enjoying it. As soon as we leave this room, I’ll have to deal with the commander again. She’s too obsessed with the rules to be any different.

« How long were you clean before last weekend? »

I sit up at this question. It seems like we’re in a moment of trust. I turn to face her and let my head rest against the wall. Her eyes are looking at me intently, very interested in my forthcoming answer. She’s taking a risk by asking me to open up... I sigh and play with a strand of my hair.

« I left the rehab center on September 18. One year after I entered. »

« Just a week before you came here? » she’s surprised.

« I guess my mother preferred to send me to this hole at the other end of the country rather than risk seeing me relapse, » I chuckle bitterly.

« I’m glad she did »

« Really? » I frown.  « I could have done without a military school. Just like the rehab, actually. It was really my worst experience. »

« Drugs are just a never-ending spiral once you taste them. I hope you won’t fall back into it. »

« It was just a rough patch, that’s all…"

I murmur this as I pull my knees to my chest. I’m very thoughtful about everything I’ve been through.

« «You complain about school, but if she hadn’t sent you here, I wouldn’t have met this cheeky kid you are. »

« That’s true, » I say with a shy smile. « You’re right. »

We enjoy the calming silence after all these emotions. It’s been a long time since I confided in anyone other than Mapi. She didn’t even have to drag it out of me. Mapi got the full story. She won, as she’s now the only one who knows everything. It’s no wonder she’s my best friend. She’s the only one I trust implicitly. I know she’ll never let me go, or she would have done so already.

« Still, I know about your love life before your first name. »

« In your dreams, I’m not telling you ».

« Why? You’ve already broken many rules tonight. One more or less…"

« You’ll find out sooner or later, but not tonight. You already know more than you should. »

I give up to keep the good mood going. I’m curious to know, but it will have to wait. I’ve tried to find out, but no one knows. It feels like a golden rule, but it seems ridiculous.

« If you don’t tell me, then tell me why such a beautiful girl is still single? »

« I don’t think t— »

« Oh come on », I interrupt. « You can talk about it to someone. And besides, who am I going to tell? I have no friends here. »

« No friends? What about the Putellas sisters or Leah and others? » she lists.

« Well, alright... I might have friends... Actually, I didn’t really want any attachments... I hate relationships; they always end up causing pain. Except Alexia didn’t get that memo... She can be very endearing. »

« We’re not so different after all, » she murmurs.

« Why do you say that? »

« I’ve been criticized for not being present enough and not investing enough in my relationships, she confesses. That weekend I couldn’t come home was the last straw. I’m not good with attachments either. I’m actually more of a feelings handicap who runs away at the first sign of trouble. »

« So I’m to blame."

"What? No, of course not! » she quickly responds. « It was planned that I wouldn’t come home the weekend you returned. Wiegman ordered me to keep an eye on you the whole week. I informed them of my absence well in advance. It was just that things were already bad before, and the news didn’t sit well. It’s in no way your fault, I assure you. »

I am to blame, even if she says otherwise. If she had returned, she might still be in a relationship. Can I be selfish for not wanting things to change? If none of this had happened, we wouldn’t be here sharing private conversations. I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I feel comfortable around her. I no longer feel exposed when confiding in her.

« Do you promise that everything we’ve talked about stays between us? » she asks.

« Of course », I promise. « And I’m not the type to break my promises. »

Time continues to pass. I hope it’s not too late. I’m dead tired, though. This first day has really worn me out. To think that just yesterday I spent the entire day in bed.

« I’m going to take you back to your room, she breaks the silence by standing up. You need to rest. »

« Do you work tomorrow? »

"I suppose I have no choice if I want you to behave. You might try to get my attention. »

« Oh, come on, I chuckle. »

I can tell she’ll bring up this story more than once. I accept her hand that helps me up. We put the equipment back in place before leaving our confessional space. Students are still hanging around in the hallways, which means it’s not yet past ten o’clock. Bronze accompanies me to my room, and I’m glad to see that it’s empty.

« Well then... Good night », she says.

« Thanks for everything, Bronze, » I reply softly.

« See you tomorrow, Batlle. »

I smile as she ruffles my hair. I don’t like the gesture, but coming from her, it doesn’t bother me. Once she’s gone, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower and put on my pajamas. I don’t waste any time sliding under the covers afterward. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted from the day, even though it’s better now. It was a special exchange, and I’m glad I’m the only one who knows about it. I get lost in my thoughts, but it doesn’t stop me from falling asleep effortlessly, with a smile on my lips.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 24

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You enter the cafe with an armful of containers. Peter's already there opening as you set down your fare on the counter. You yawn as he turns in surprise at the tupperware stack.

"What's all this?" He asks.

"Desserts. Ideas for specials. I was thinking we could have some taste tests-- where's Cole?"

"Should be on his way. He called, his mother's having some plumbing issues or something. I don't know, he's late," Peter shrugs, " weird, he's never late. A bit... flighty but not late."

"Oh," you lift the containers, "I'll move these into the back office then."

"Don't got a key. Master doesn't work, just leave those by the dishrack," Peter says, "you want a coffee before we open up? Maybe I can come up with a new recipe too... something to go with what you did. What did you make?"

You go down the list and he nods. He scrunches his face and his brows suddenly flick up. He grins and winks.

"Go, sit," he shoos you with his fingers. "I want to surprise you."

"But... should I--" you gesture around you.

"I'm already done most of the tasks. I don't wanna be rude but you look tired as hell."

"I am," you agree dryly.

You don't need convincing. You just want to sit down. The prospect of a whole day on your feet is less than enticing. You feel slightly dizzy as it is. Blame it on the lack of sleep or your missed morning caffeine dose, but you know what's really to blame. Every time you get a whiff of the cinnamon, you can feel Lloyd's arm around your neck. You can hear his growl and your pathetic whimpers.

Just sex. Just like he said. You can't be mad at him for wanting what you promised. He put a roof over your head, so that's nothing. That's what you agreed to.

You sit and rest your forehead against your hand. Even those stiff chairs are cozy to your exhausted body. You shift one way and feel your thighs tingle. It's over, it's a new day, and now you know better. Just like with Johnny, it's better to deal with him before yourself.

Peter clinks and clanks, the machines hissing and whirring, a warmth radiating from behind the counter. You're lulled by the activity as it helps you forget. The abrupt silence brings your head up as his soft footfalls pad around. He presents a mug with foam decorated with a maple leaf. He sets it down and puts his hands on his hips proudly.

"Maple cinnamon latte," he smirks, "we'll need more maple... but it's just a test."

"Huh, thanks, Peter," you pull it close and inhale the scent. You pause and look up at him as he watches you, "what about you?"

"Me? Ha, I've had three espressos and I'm about to crawl across the ceiling," he laughs, "decaf until noon at least."

"Ah, yeah, probably a good idea."

"I didn't know you baked," he says, "you got kids or a husband? You seem like the type."

"Uh no, not exactly," you return your attention to the cup and take a cautious sip, "mmm, it's good."

"Yeah, me either," he sways, "I got time though, you know? I'm twenty-one--"

"Lots," you agree with a snort, "what about that girl that was here the other day? She's cute, she comes around a lot."

"She won't even look at me," he frowns, "but she is cute."

"She just seems a bit shy," you offer, "give it time."

"Yeah, yeah," he drags his sole over the floor, "least I'm not Cole."

"What?" You scoff.

"Oh well, I guess you don't know him that well yet. Guy hasn't had a date in five years. He tries. A lot," he gives a cringey look to the wall, "you know, he ends up chasing off most of the girls arguing about beans and roast level and all that."

"Yeah, he is very particular you agree."

"That's a way to put it," Peter backs up, slowly making his way back to the counter. He stops and turns back to you, another wily smirk, "can I put something out there?"

"What?" You take another drink, this one braver, greedy as your temples begin to pound.

"I think he likes you. You're patient. Especially with him. That's no small feat. And well, he's a dope and you're not hard to like," he sticks out his tongue.

"Peter," you roll your eyes, "he's our boss."

"Not that kinda boss. I've had way worse. Sure you have too," he goes behind the counter and boots up the till, "besides, since you got here, you're kinda the boss now."

"What?" You exclaim again.

The door jars inwards, startling both of you. You look over as Cole rushes in, combing his hair with his fingers as one sleeve falls past his shoulder. He looks about as rough as you feel.

"Hey, boss," Peter squeaks, "what's going on?"

"Ah, nothing," he shrugs off his jacket entirely, "I was stuck in traffic and this asshole swung a tire iron at my windshield a few streets back."

"What?" You stand, "are you okay?"

You cross to him without thinking. He's flushed and slightly breathless. He nods and clears his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, car's in rough shape but I'm fine," his eyes meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink. His nose wiggles and he lifts his chin as he sniffs, "something smells delicious."

"Want one? Maple Cinnamon," Peter offers.

"Maple Cinnamon? When did we add that?"

"We didn't. Didn't want to be outdone."

"Uh, yeah," you interject, "I kinda went crazy in the kitchen last night."

"Crazy?" Cole smiles at you, "how crazy?"

"I made some scones... and some squares... maybe some croissants...."

"Wow, you did all that," he folds his jacket over his arm as his eyes brighten, "that's amazing."

"Enough talking," Peter says, "I've been dying to try!" He peels up the corner of a lid, "can I, please?"

You nod and head around the counter. Cole follows as Peter claims a pumpkin square. You pass, not very hungry, and Cole accepts one. You wait anxiously for their feedback, glancing between them. Both hum and roll their eyes back.

"Oh god, these are like sex," Cole says.

Peter furrows his nose and you're not sure what to say. You hold back a laugh, "well, thanks, I guess."

"Sorry, I'm not in work mode yet," he smacks his forehead, "I'll just shut up and eat.”

“Is that all it takes?” Peter kids and takes another bite.

You shake your head at both of them and look at the clock, “alright, almost opening time. Let's get it together.”

[sosappyjoos]

Ooooh, well since you love Yunho.

I'll guess I'll request a yunho smut please?

Yunho+praise+possessiveness

Thank you 🙏

Good Kisser-Jeong Yunho

↳Pairing : Jeong Yunho x f!reader

↳Warnings: MDNI! Seriously, dont! Smut, making out, brief mention of vomit (reader pukes on Yunho, but it's not mentioned too much), fingering (f. receiving), dick bulge, dom!Yunho, public sex, f!orgasm boss yunho, office romance, jealous and possessive Yunho, pet names (Sweatheart and baby), praise kink, Wooyoung and Yeosang are in the story but Y/N's friends and co-workers, mention of San. (pls let me know if there's anything else I should add)

Word count: 5,519

Summary: Reader gets drunk one night and talks bad about her boss Jeong Yunho, who ends up taking care of your drunk mistakes that night, including making out with him. But instead of being fired, you find that he's become rather possessive and a bit jealous about your interactions with some of your male co-workers.

Genre: enemies to lovers(?), office romance.

A/N: Aghhh this is my first ever fanfiction and actually my first time ever writing smut. This is unedited, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. But this was so much fun to write, and thank you @whatudowhennooneseesyou for the request. I hope you enjoy it. And maybe part 2?👀 Let me know if you want it. Also if people could please reblog this, that would be so helpful to help it get more attention and help me to continue writing amazing requests like this for everyone to enjoy. Anyways, enjoy!!

__________________________________________

“Fuck you, Wooyoung,” you cried out drunkenly. “Why did you introduce me to this damn job?”

“uh-huh I got it, I’m sorry,” Wooyoung tried calming you, looking around the busy restaurant apologetically.

“I work… I work over time every night, and I don’t even get to have a lunch break,” you raised your arms clumsily in exasperation, standing up from the frustration building in you. “And everyone,” you started waving your arms, at the indication, slightly stumbling. “Piles their work on me since I’m the "newbie." Their work isn’t even my job, I’m a secretary. What am I? Some kind of intern? I'm not even that new! I've been working here for 8 months!" You pointed too yourself, eyes wide. "But you know what?!”

Wooyoung cringed, looking behind you, quickly tugging on your arms trying to get you to sit down. “I get it, I know. Now sit down before you fall.”

You thankfully cooperated. “The worst of them all is Jeong Yunho,” You attempted to say in a hushed tone, but it was still loud. “That bastard really gets on my nerves." You sighed, your bottom lip sticking out in a pathetic pout. "Yea, he’s my boss. But does he have to give me so much work to do?! I can’t even go on any dates because I don’t have time! It's his fault that I'm still single!” You cried. Wooyoung tried covering your mouth, but you quickly shoved his hand away, glaring at him. “He’s always so abrupt, and strict.”

“I understand. Just quiet down, huh?” Wooyoung continued trying to calm you, looking anxiously from you, to something over your shoulder. But you were so wasted you hardly even noticed how nervous he seemed.

“He hardly even talks to me, too! He just tells me what he needs with a few short words and then ignores my existence!" "Does he not realize I'm human? I'm a human being! It's so lonely sitting at my desk where no one but him is around," you whined. "He’s just a mindless working jerk!”

“Y/N, be quiet, huh?” Wooyoung now hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Ugh,” You quickly stood up again. “And stop looking behind me, it’s so annoying!” Standing up that quickly wasn't the wisest move you made that evening, as you quickly lost your balance and began to stumble backwards. Wooyoung’s face distorted to a face of shock as he stood up reaching for you. Your eyes widened and you let out a small yelp before feeling an arm wrap around your waist, stopping your descent to the ground. The realization was a bit slow for your drunken state, but you finally looked up at who had miraculously caught you. Your eyes narrowed and you quickly stood up as straight as you could, your feet still fumbling a bit, your heels clacking loudly against the floor. 

“Jeong Yunho!” You yelled at the man himself as he continued holding onto your arm, stabilizing you. He watched you carefully as you pointed your finger to his face. “You’re a fuckhead!” you giggled at the made up insult. Yunho’s eyes widened with shock at the nickname before chuckling to himself with a smirk on his lips. You slumped a little bit against him, suddenly tired. Yunho looked at Wooyoung, who was watching the scenario you had gotten yourself into with a cringe on his face.

“How much did she drink?” Yunho asked him.

“More than usual,” Wooyoung told him shrugging. “I guess the stress really got to her. What brings you here, Yunho?” Wooyoung asked, a slight smirk on his face. “Did you come because of my text?”

Yunho was silent for a moment. “Why did you both decide to drink on a week-day?”

“We weren’t here originally to drink. We were just eating,” Wooyoung sighed, leaning back in his seat. “But Y/N just kept drinking more and more. I’m sure you can guess why from overhearing her earlier?” He raised any eyebrow at Yunho, scanning his expression. Yunho pressed his lips together, swallowing. He avoided Wooyoung's eyes for a moment. Wooyoung stood up with a grunt before clapping his hand on Yunho's shoulder. “I have to get going now. The guys are wanting to go clubbing.”

“On a week-day?" Yunho asked. Wooyoung simply shrugged, giving a lazy salute with his two fingers. "Aren’t you going to take her home?" Yunho called after.

“That’s your problem now! See you later lover boy,” Wooyoung waved at Yunho and walked out of the restaurant. 

Yunho sighed, annoyed. He held you close to him, as he bent down grabbing your bag and jacket from your chair. He started to make his way to the exit when he was stopped by one of the staff. “Excuse me sir, but the meal over there still hasn’t been paid for.”

Yunho scoffed, and shook his head, knowing Wooyoung left the bill to him. “That little shit.” He mumbled, before quickly paying and walking out of the restaurant. The cold air bit at your exposed face and arms, making you whine. The sound was oddly rather sexual, making Yunho's cheeks warm in the cold weather. He cursed his mind for thinking such thoughts, looking up at the sky, trying his best to ignore any such thoughts. He pressed his lips together, before wrapping your jacket over your shoulders. You suddenly stood up straight, stumbling like an uneven bowling ball, singing a tune that Yunho didn't have a chance at recognizing with your offkey singing. He huffed a small laugh, holding your wrist to keep you out of the way of others and the street.

With some difficulty he guided you to his car, and you didn't make it any easier for him to help you inside. And once you were inside, of course that was when you fell asleep. Yunho let out an exhasperated sigh sitting in the drivers seat. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, looking over at you peacefully sleeping next to him. You had a small pout when you slept, and Yunho found himself smiling at how adorable he found it. He straightened up and stopped smiling as soon as he noticed though. He now debated on where to drive. He'd tried to get your address from you earlier, however that conversation wasn't exactly productive. He'd tried calling Wooyoung, but was sent straight to voicemail. He debated his options, before shifting the gear in his car. “My house it is, I guess,” Yunho mumbled. The drive was quiet, and thankfully, getting you out of his car was not nearly as difficult as getting you in. You had simply flopped over his back, making it easy for him to carry you into his apartment.

But when he was almost to his bedroom door, he horrifyingly heard a gag from you! He hurriedly opened his door, but before he could reach the bathroom, he felt an uncomfortable warm wetness over his shoulder, and a very unsatisfying "Bleugh" from you. You had vomited over his white button up, and he felt unbelievably uncomfortable, his shoulders slumping in defeat with a heavy sigh. This wasn't the kind of thing he'd been expecting on a Wednesday night.

He carried you into his bathroom, leaving you seated on his sink counter. You kicked your feet playfully as he got out a spare toothbrush he'd gotten from a dentist visit. He put some toothpaste on it, and coaxed you into opening your mouth. You cooperated giggling drunkenly. As he began to brush your teeth, you looked up at him with doe eyes. He was once again cursing his dirty mind, and tried his best to not imagine something very different from a toothbrush in your mouth. He closed his eyes a moment trying to reset his mind before he resumed helping you brush your teeth, quite thoroughly.

"This is ridiculous," he mumbled to himself. And he really felt that way, it was a simple task that you could probably do yourself, but here he was helping you brush your teeth, while you smiled obliviously. After your teeth were sufficiently cleaned, Yunho helped you down from the counter top, and guided you to his bed. You sat down, passively looking around at his room.

Yunho took the opportunity to gingerly take off his shirt, grabbing an oversized gray t-shirt. But before he could put it on, a pair of arms swiftly wrapped around his waist, pulling him back harshly. He fell back on his bed, a startled yelp managing to escape him. And there you were, hovering over him, your eyes seductive. You ran a hand through your hair, out of your face, letting it fall gently to the side of you.

“Y/N?”

You smiled, leaning down close to his face, your lips a breath away. His eyes widened, and he swiftly grabbed your arms sitting up, avoiding the impending kiss. You groaned at the sudden separation.

“Y/N calm down."

“I'm calm,” You smiled, your hands cupping his face. You leaned in to kiss him, this time too swift for him to stop you. His eyes remained wide for a moment, before easing into the kiss. The kiss was slow at first, your heart was beating quickly, and your cheeks felt even more flushed than usual because of the alcohol. Yunho gently held the back of your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His other hand held your waist and began to slowly trail up through your shirt, both of you pulling to deepen the kiss. You began to descend your hand down his chest, before reaching the bulge in his pants. You firmly palmed it, making him moan. However, the action brought Yunho back to reality as he realized the situation. 

Yunho pulled away from the kiss abruptly, shocked. You were also shocked but from the abrupt pause. He held your shoulders back as both of you breathed heavily from the make out session. His eyes sparkled as you looked at them, and seemed to hesitate before he avoided yours, distancing himself with you. You reached out for him again, but he caught your arms holding them away from him. “Y/N, you’re drunk.” He shut you down. Your eyebrows furrowed, a protest on the tip of your lips. But he stood up with a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact with you. “You can sleep here on my bed tonight. You have work tomorrow, so rest well.”

He swiftly left the room, and you simply stared at the door. Your head was fuzzy, and your eyelids felt heavy. After waiting a moment in case he returned, you finally laid back on the bed, hardly anything running through your drunk mind as you drifted off to sleep.

___________________________________________________________

You woke up the next morning to your alarm ringing which also triggered an excruciating headache. You groaned, reaching for your phone on your dresser, only there was no dresser as you reached. Your head popped up from your pillow, confused. You squinted around the room you were in, only to see it was not your room at all. You quickly sat up a gasp escaping you, your phone still ringing as flashbacks from the night before came into your mind full swing. Not only had you totally bad-mouthed your boss and he potentially heard it, but you also called him a childish insult right to his face. And to top it all off, you had made out with your “Fuckface” boss after puking on his shirt. You groaned mortified at yourself as you quickly stood to look for your phone, seeing it surprisingly neatly charging on the dresser, with a green sticky note on it. You shut off the blaring alarm, slightly relieving the mind splitting headache you were suffering from. Then you looked at the sticky note. 

“I set an alarm for you on your phone so you'd wake up in time. There’s some new clothes for you in the bag on the dining table along with some food to help with your hangover. You can take a shower if needed. and the toothbrush you used last night is still there, it's the purple one. I sent you where the closest subway station is too. Don’t be late -Fuckface”

You once again groaned seeing the horrid nickname you’d given him written at the bottom of the sticky note, crouching down. “I’m done for,” you chuckled in disbelief, letting yourself simply fall to the floor. “My career is over, my life is over-” you let yourself just whine, absolutely mortified. But remembering the warning against being late to work, you checked your phone, relieved to see that you had time to get in the shower as Yunho had said. You tried pushing your embarrassing night out of your head, so all that remained was your terrible hangover. You got up and walked into the kitchen to see some porridge and a glass of water on the table, along with the bag of clothes Yunho had left. You stared at the bowl of porridge for a moment before slumping down in the seat, eating it quickly. It was tasty, and you couldn't help but think about how thorough Yunho was even outside of work. After showering and getting dressed, and applying what little make-up you had in your purse, you hurriedly left the house. 

The subway station was really close which made things even less stressful for this morning. And even though you still had a bone to pick with Yunho, you were thankful for how easy he had made it for you this morning. It wasn’t like he was the worst boss out there of course. He was just… very very particular about his work, so much so that it didn’t seem like you could hardly do anything “right” according to him the first 3 months of working for him. You were shocked you hadn’t been fired before during that time as it truly seemed nothing was up to his standard. But finally you had gotten the hang of things a bit, and were able to do some things right. It was even more difficult when your co-workers kept giving you tasks that weren’t even for secretaries, let alone a personal one. They all treated you like an intern, and it felt insulting. But you clenched your teeth and did the work anyway, overworking yourself to the bone. 

You took a deep breath in front of your work building, mentally preparing yourself to go inside and face your boss. The same boss you'd most definitely offended, and most definitely kissed last night.

“Good morning,” a bright voice said behind you, and a skipping wooyoung stopped at your side, a giant grin on his face. 

“Good morning, my ass!” You scowled, glaring at Wooyoung. He inched away from you, a . “Why the hell did you leave me to Mr. Jeong, you asshole!”

“I had to leave!”

“But that’s my boss you left me with, drunk! Who I bad mouthed too!”

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he pouted. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodding a bit. “Well, I guess you could say something like that,” you mumbled. 

“Ladies first,” Wooyoung indicated for you to enter the building first. 

"Then I insist you be the one to go first,” you smiled sarcastically.

Wooyoung squinted at you, before walking inside, you following close behind, your shoulders sagging in reluctance.

“So, what ended up happening last night?” You both stepped into the elevator

“I’d really rather not talk about it.”

“That bad huh?”

“No, it was worse than bad Wooyoung. All I’m going to say is don’t be surprised if I never come to work again after today,” you sighed, walking out of the elevator together. 

“You’re exaggerating,” Wooyoung squinted at you. 

“I wish I was! I really fucking wish I was.”

You approached your desk which was just outside of Yunho’s office. The lights seemed to still be off inside his office, meaning he still wasn’t there. You let out the hundredth sigh already today as you slumped down in your chair.

“It’s over,” you once again mumbled to yourself, remembering last night's events. The way Yunho's lips were so soft but strong against yours, and the way he held you so close to him. The way his fingers brushed against your skin.

You sat up abruptly though, shutting down those thoughts before your face turned bright red. "All I can do now is try to convince him to let me stay," you mumbled, straightening some papers you had on your desk.

And there he was right down the hall, Yunho's steady foot prints approaching your desk. You quickly stood up, ready to greet him. You bowed to him with a polite “Good morning Mr. Jeong,” as he passed by, opening the door to his office. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, thankful he passed by so quickly.

“Ms. Y/N,” Yunho called, and your head snapped up to him. He was holding his door open. 

“Yes?”

“Come inside,” he simply said, walking into his office. 

“Yes…” you groaned, your shoulders slumped as you walked through his office door.

“Mr. Park wants to reschedule our upcoming meeting to the 27th, adjust my schedule to fit him in,” Yunho said nonchalantly, taking off his suit coat and resting it on his chair. 

“Ah, yes. I’ll quickly do that for you…” You said slowly. You furrowed your brows. 

“Oh, and be sure to remind team 1 we have a meeting today to talk about the upcoming project.”

“Of course,” you affirmed. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit confused. He’s acting the same as always. You stared in a bit of disbelief at him. He settled into his seat, opening a manila folder. He looked up at you, puzzled.

“You can leave now.”

“Ah, right.”

You quickly rushed out of his office and into your own space, looking at his calendar for the 27th. You shifted a few things around, but thankfully there wasn’t much scheduled that day yet. You also sent out a reminder to Team 1 about the meeting that would be held in an hour. After that you scanned your emails, thankful for the distraction. 45 minutes passed of productive work before you stood up, and began getting the meeting room ready, setting out water bottles, folders and snacks on the table for everyone.

“Y/N,” you heard Wooyoung call. You turned around to see him at the door, smiling as always. 

“What do you need this time?”

“I’m just setting up the presentation,” he shrugged, bringing his laptop in, and setting it up to the big screen at the front of the room. Wooyoung was the team leader of Team 1. You already knew by now that Yunho and Wooyoung were actually pretty close, but you didn’t mind. You’d known Wooyoung since high school, and you’d gone your separate ways after during college, and a few years after that you'd gotten back in contact. You were thankful he’d introduced you to such a big job, but Yunho’s constant corrections of every little thing, and abrupt demands and assumption that you knew what he was thinking 24/7 was still exhausting. The powerpoint was open at the ready. Wooyoung walked over to you, as you were restocking one of the snack baskets. He reached over to pick up one of the mini packages of almonds. “Can’t you bring better snacks than these?” You rolled your eyes, attempting to snatch it out of his hands, but he quickly lifted his arm so the snack was out of reach.

“These are fine. Besides, Mr. Jeong likes them right now,” you sighed, once again trying to reach for them. 

“Ah, your prince charming last night?”

You grunted, huffing the hair out of your face as you continued to reach for the snack. Wooyoung let out an annoying giggle which was only getting more and more on your nerves. 

“Ahem,” someone behind you interrupted. You stopped, spinning around to see Yunho, leaning against the glass door frame. He had an eyebrow lifted, and his jaw was slacked. He stared at us, unamused. 

“Oh Yunho!” Wooyoung greeted finally lowering his arm. You quickly snatched the snack out of his hands and bowed to Yunho. You then started filling the snack basket again, but you could feel Yunho’s eyes still on you.

“Is everything set up?” Yunho finally asked Wooyoung. 

“Yes, everyone should be here in just a minute.”

________________________________________________________

The meeting had started out fine, but Yunho quickly began analyzing the imperfections and holes in Team 1's product plan, seemingly extra irritable. Poor Wooyoung was a mess trying to reason with Yunho and keep up with his frequent “attacks.”

“Apparently he also woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Wooyoung mumbled to you, packing up his laptop. 

Well, once again, it was something like that. You patted Wooyoung's shoulder encouragingly. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you tried. “And it’s good he’s bringing attention to these things early on so it runs more smoothly when we finally start on the project,” you reasoned. 

“Y/N,” Yunho said sternly. He walked up to you and Wooyoung. “I need you to copy 70 of these and distribute them to all team members personally. After that I need you to plan and schedule the Breakfast Banquet in June. I expect it to be half-way finished by today. Oh, and I also need you to contact Mrs. Lim about the advertisement set-up, and have her change the place to somewhere more… exotic.” Yunho piled. You had gotten out your tablet halfway, frantically typing down everything he had told you, precisely. “Oh, and bring me some coffee and some lunch. Make sure it’s something refreshing.”

“Yes, I’ll start on everything right away,” you said, as he began walking away. 

“Ah, and if this is too abrupt and strict for you, then… so very sorry,” he gave you a sarcastic smile, before walking away

Your jaw dropped as you watched him leave. So this is about last night. You closed your mouth, letting out a scoff.

“You regretting what you said last night yet?” Wooyoung teased. You slammed the papers Yunho had handed you onto the table, and gave Wooyoung a scathing glare. Wooyoung took the hint and quickly left you seething.

______________________________________________________

The next day you came to work with very prominent dark circles under your eyes. The additional work Yunho had piled on you had proven to be very difficult and you left work way later than usual, absolutely drained. You were thankful it was now Friday, impatient for the weekend. 

“Woah! What happened to you?” Were Wooyoung's first words seeing your face at your desk. You glared at him. "You look like shit."

"Thanks for boasting my confidence there," you said in a monotone voice. “I worked overtime last night.”

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Couldn’t be me. I went clubbing with some girls. Yeosang and San came with me,” he bragged. This only made you more annoyed. 

“Clubbing. On a weekday?” you let out an annoyed chuckle. “Wooyoung, you better get out of here in 3 seconds or I strangle you.”

Wooyoung gave another smile and quickly walked away from your desk. You sighed holding your temples. You heard Yunho step out of his office, and you quickly stood, bowing to him. He pursed his lips gradually approaching your desk. 

“The Breakfast Banquet planning looks good so far. You can slow down on the project now over the next few months. And Mrs. Lim called with the new location for the ad. It fits well,” Yunho told you awkwardly.

You gave your best smile. “Glad to hear it.”

He nodded, walking away slowly. 

“Glad to hear it,” You mocked yourself. “More like that’s what I better hear, you-!” Your phone pinged and you glanced down at the message. It was an announcement of a team dinner with team 1 that you were invited to. You smiled, excited for ending the evening the right way.

“Y/N!” You looked up and spotted one of the members of Team 2, Han Yoonjung approaching your desk, with a big smile. Your own smile faltered. Yoonjung was one of the main perpetrators of passing off her work to you. And she always made it practically impossible to say no to.

“Hi, Ms. Han,” you greeted politely. 

“Oh come on. Call me Yoonjung, I don’t mind,” she smiled. “Hey, so tonight my boyfriend made some plans to go out to dinner that I totally forgot about. Problem is I have a bit of a project that I need to finish before tomorrow. Would you be able to finish it for me?” she asked. 

You paused for a moment, already annoyed. “But I actually have a bit of plans tonight. There’s a team dinner.”

“Oh those are lame anyways. Always so stuffy and boring. I'd actually be doing you a favor helping you get out of it,” she dismissed. “Please?”

You hesitated on what to say, wanting to refuse more firmly while still being polite. You opened your mouth to speak, but someone spoke before you could. “She said she had plans tonight.” You looked at Yunho as he approached the both of you. 

“Oh, well I was just asking for a bit of a hand to help,” Yoonjung tried to excuse herself. 

“Doing a full project for another worker is hardly a bit of a helping hand. That's quite literally doing their job for them," Yunho explained. Yoonjung was about to speak again, but Yunho beat her to it. "I can’t say I’m impressed that you keep handing off your work to my personal secretary,” Yunho raised an eyebrow. Your stomach jumped. Yes! Help me out of this for once, please! I stayed here way too late last night for you not to stand up for me!

Yoonjung shrank down. “I was just asking since I wanted to go to dinner with my boyfriend and-”

“And I don’t see why Y/N would need to take responsibility for that,” Yunho interrupted, sternly. Yoonjung swallowed, her cheeks red. “I also know this isn’t the first time you or others have asked. Y/N is a personal assistant, not a crew member on one of your teams. Her job is very different, and important for me." Yunho said. His defense was giving you butterflies, which in a way felt pathetic, but you couldn't help but feel a little giddy. "Y/N doesn’t accept work from anyone else, unless it’s been pre-approved by me. I hope you spread this to your co-workers as well,” he told her in a firm yet gentle manner, making sure to stay professional. You looked down at the ground, swallowing a victorious smile. 

“Yes sir,” Yoonjung affirmed. Yunho gave her a short polite smile before she walked away. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jeong.”

“Of course. And it's true, you shouldn't be accepting work from others unless I approve, so don’t hesitate to call for me,” Yunho smiled. He then lifted his hand which held a coffee. “You seemed tired so I got you some coffee.”

You blinked in shock, and then finally grabbed the coffee. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he dismissed, walking away into his office. You held the back of your hand to your cheek, trying to cool it. You couldn’t help but smile as you sipped on the beverage, and sat back down at your desk.

_______________________________________________________

The restaurant was loud with all your co-workers from Team 1 talking and laughing. You were also thankful to be participating in the fun.

“You seem more energetic since Yunho’s additional tasks yesterday,” Yeosang said. He was sitting across from you taking a sip of the water in front of him.

“Oh. It wasn’t so bad,” you dismissed, taking a bite of food. 

“Yea right,” Wooyoung chuckled. “Your dark circles were practically sagging to our feet this morning.”

“Stop exaggerating,” You shoved him. It was true that it was a lot of work, however your mood about it had significantly improved after talking with Yunho. You felt a bit pathetic for feeling so happy over such simple things like him praising you, or defending you against co-workers shrugging their responsibilities on you. But it did make you happy, and you took the optimism gladly. Suddenly there was a rush of shocked conversation around you. You looked up and saw Yunho’s tall and lithe figure walking into the restaurant. Wooyoung and Yeosang waved him over and he approached the three of you. He sat down next to you smiling. He looks so cute. You thought. You may have not always been a fan of Yunho, but you weren’t a liar. He was obviously a very attractive man. So attractive it was sometimes hard to be mad at him. You made eye contact with him and your stares lingered for a moment, before you both looked away. You chewed the inside of your cheek, unsure what to do with yourself now. 

“You made time to come. We’re glad to see you,” Yeosang clapped Yunho’s shoulder.

“I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I came,” Yunho shrugged, taking a drink.

Everyone was enjoying their time eating, drinking and talking. As Yunho, Wooyoung and Yeosang talked and goofed off, you couldn't help but smile along. You were getting a bit tipsy, and decided to dismiss yourself to the bathroom real quickly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, pinching your cheeks a bit trying to remain as sober as you possibly could. Your cheeks were already a bit flushed, and the pinching didn’t help at all, but you couldn't get drunk tonight. Not after that fiasco a few days ago.

You walked out of the bathroom, and there Yunho was leaning against the opposite wall. He walked up to you, a shy look on his face.

  “Listen,” he starts, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry for piling all that work on you. I understand it was a lot, and it was petty of me to get back at you.”

You sucked at your teeth taking in his apology. “Don’t worry about it. I’d have to work on all of it eventually, so it was a good head start. Besides, I said some pretty terrible things about you.”

“Guess we’re even now,” Yunho said. 

“Well actually, about that other night-” You started, but Yunho shifted uncomfortably and interrupted you.

“I think we should get back to everyone, don’t you think? Wooyoung and Yeosang will definitely eat all of the meat if we're not there.”

“Oh. I guess so.”

You both started walking back to the group, but before you could be in view of the others Yunho leaned down trapping your head behind a busy booth, whispering in your ear. “You’re a good kisser though.”

Your cheeks flushed and your heart was throbbing as you both sat down. Yunho hid a smile as he sipped on his drink.

“Y/N, were you able to get that guy's number last weekend? I left before seeing you actually do it,” Yeosang asked. You sank down in your seat, embarrassed for some reason.

“No… He left before I could ask,” I said shyly. 

“Come on, you hardly go clubbing with us and you missed this one opportunity to get a guy's number,” Wooyoung whined. “Why don’t you come clubbing with us again this weekend?”

You glanced over at Yunho, his tongue was in his cheek, and nose slightly flared. “I think I’ll actually pass,” you said.

“Then should I be the one to get your number and show you a fun time?” Wooyoung teased.

You fake gagged. “Wooyoung that’s just not right,” you said. 

“You’re right,” he shivered at the idea. 

Yunho quickly stood up now, swinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. “I have to get going now. Wooyoung, make sure to use the business card.” He quickly walked out of the restaurant. You frowned at his abrupt departure, you'd slightly been hoping to talk more.

“What was that about?m He looked pissed.” Yeosang mumbled. Wooyoung and Yeosang dove back into conversation, while you were lost in thought. What did Yunho mean exactly, by being a good kisser? Why would he say that to you? Was he wanting to forget that night, or remember? You couldn't tell what he was hoping to achieve by complimenting your kissing skills, and it was killing you.

Your phone pinged, dragging you out of your thoughts. The message was from Yunho.

I’m down the street by the bus station. Meet me there in 5 minutes. 

Your heart leaped and you quickly exited the message so Wooyoung’s nosy ass wouldn’t see. You waited for a moment, before standing up with your bag and pulling your long coat on. “Hey I have to get going now. I’ll talk to you guys laterm though.”

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang protested as you left, but you simply waved and walked out the door. You pulled your jacket closer around you, your hairs rising from the bitter cold. You walked at a quick pace to the bus station Yunho had mentioned. You didn’t understand exactly why you felt so giddy. He probably forgot to give you some business file, but for some reason the thought of seeing him in private made your stomach feel jumbled, especially after he had suddenly complimented your kissing skills earlier.

 You arrived at the bus station and looked around. There was an older man, drunkenly sleeping on the bench, but Yunho was nowhere in sight. You felt the giddiness start to dissipate and your shoulders started to slump when you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist. You turned and saw Yunho quickly pulling you to a dark small alleyway making the giddy feeling come back full swing.

He pushed you against the brick wall, arms holding the wall on both sides of your head. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes sparkling from what little light there was around, but his eyebrows were still raised with an air of sternness. You were breathing heavily, your heart beating quickly from the unexpected turn of events. Finally he leaned down to you, kissing your lips with vigor. You kissed him back matching his intensity. He held your head, and tilted into the kiss, deepening it, now holding your waist with his other hand, pulling you closer to him. The wetness in your panties was inevitable at this point, especially as he placed his leg between yours. He broke away from the kiss, and you briefly worried he would stop like he had last time you’d made out. Instead he spoke in a hushed tone.

“I thought I gave you so much work you didn’t have time to date? You were going to give your number to some guy at the club?” He then started to kiss down your neck, the hand at your head now traveling down your leg. 

“I thought of it, but decided not to after remembering how much I wouldn’t have time for him,” you breathed out.

“Ah, is that why you decided to flirt with Wooyoung instead?” Yunho nibbled at your collar bone.

“Wooyoung and I don’t flirt. He’s basically a brother to me,” You sighed, biting your lip. Yunho moved his hand to the inside of your thigh, traveling up your skirt. You got a run of shivers from his touch along with the cold. 

“And?” Yunho asked, his lips once again at your neck. His long fingers were now brushing the hem of your panties. 

“And I’d never date him,” you told him.

“Good girl,” Yunho said, finally placing his hand over your clothed pussy. He could feel how wet you were, soaking through your panties. He stopped kissing your neck and looked at you now, smirking. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he hummed. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best not to moan. You gripped onto his arm as his two fingers pushed aside your panties, smoothing over your slickness. “Were you wet like this the last time we made out?” he asked.

You couldn’t even respond, just desperate for his deeper touch. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you closed your eyes, trying to enhance what you were feeling from his fingers. “Your little pout is so pretty, baby. Do you want more?” he asked. You only nodded. You could hear him breathe out a chuckle as he slipped his two fingers inside you. He let them slowly reach up, and slowly pulled them out once more, making you almost moan, but you quickly covered your mouth, choking back the demonstration of pleasure. 

Finally he began to slowly pump his fingers inside you, trying to subtly find your g-spot. Finally, his fingers reached it, and you trembled a little bit, letting out a small whimper. Yunho gave a sly smile. “Found it.” Now that he found it, he was intent on using it as much as he could. As he massaged your g-spot he used his thumb to rub your clit. You were trying so hard not to moan with every pump now, and could only let out small quiet whimpers now. “You’re staying so quiet for me baby, you’re doing so well,” Yunho now whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whispered back. 

“Better than wooyoung, or that guy could ever make you feel, right?” He asked. You only nodded now, unable to speak. There was tension building up in your stomach, and you held tight onto Yunho’s wrist, feeling your orgasm on its way. “You got it sweetheart. Cum nice and sweet for me.” he encouraged, feeling you start to clench around his fingers. Your relief was hanging on by a string as he fingered you even more rigorously, and he rubbed your clit even harder and faster. Finally your breath hitched as that string finally snapped, and your body shook a moment from the intense orgasm. You barely stifled your moan, but your legs started to lose strength. Thankfully Yunho held you up with strong arms. “You did so well,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. 

“Hey, we should all go for a second round!” You heard Wooyoung's voice approaching from down the street. You quickly looked at Yunho, frightened to be seen in this state. Thankfully he understood your look. The sad part was his fingers leaving your insides, as he used his other hand to spin you away from the outside view of the alleyway. His tall figure blocked you completely from outside view. 

“Haven’t you had enough to drink?” You heard Yeosang reason, very nearby now. Yunho’s head tilted, listening intently. You could see the group's shadow begin passing by in random conversation. 

Yunho gave you a seductive glance, sticking his two fingers which were inside you inside his mouth, sucking. You stared at him, turned on once again. He took the fingers out of his mouth leaning down to you. “You really did cum nice and sweet for me,” he whispered after the group had passed. 

You rolled your eyes, an inevitable smile on your lips. You stood on your tippy toes, giving him a kiss, which he gladly accepted. You broke the kiss, and he looked at you curious. “Am I really that good of a kisser though?”

[take-taker-taken]

ShawnXreader? Bratty reader getting a spanking from HBK?

Thank you, lovely Anon! Hope this hits the spot…

“Honey, I’m home!”

You grin at the sound of his voice as the front door opens and then you curse quietly as you realise the half-full takeout cup is still perched on the table. You leap up and grab it, swiftly tucking it away behind the couch. You’ve already had your quota of iced coffee ‘concoctions’ (as Shawn calls them), for the week and so you’ll be in trouble if he sees it.

You turn around with a smile and he drops his bag to the floor and opens his arms. With a happy giggle you leap into them and he kisses you, spins you around and sets you back on the floor before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. You close your eyes and drift into it when he suddenly stops and leans back, looking at you closely.

“What?” You pout at the abrupt end to the kiss but he just continues to stare, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Where is it?” He says, casting suspicious glances around the room and then turning back to you after noticing the ring of condensation on the table.

You feel yourself blush but try to appear nonchalant, saying with a frown, “Where is what?”

He gives you a warning look. “Baby girl, I can see the chocolate in the corners of your mouth and I can taste the coffee. Where is it - or did you finish it already?”

You roll your eyes and say huffily, “It’s only a drink.”

He gives his head a small shake and his tone is measured as he replies, “We’ve talked about this, remember, and you agreed that you were having too many of those things. You asked me to set a limit on how many you should have and so-”

“I wanted one!” You practically stamp your foot and your voice raises as you interrupt him.

All Shawn raises is his eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? Sounds like you need a time-out, little girl; go stand in the corner.”

Folding your arms tightly and pouting, you go to push past him but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “After you answer my question and tell me where it is.”

“Find it yourself,” you mutter, shrugging his hand off.

“Yeah, keep it up, brat. You’ve just upgraded from a time-out to a spanking.”

You’re annoyed at yourself for letting him down and for being caught out, but you know that now he’s said you’re getting a spanking there’s no way back from it, so it’s time for damage limitation. “It’s behind the couch,” you say quietly, head down.

“Go get it.”

Dragging your feet slightly you go and retrieve the cup, before turning back around to face him and he inclines his head towards the door.

“Into the kitchen and get rid of it.”

With a small sigh you do as you’re told, carrying it through to the kitchen where you remove the lid and pour the liquid down the drain. You don’t care - it no longer seems as appealing as it did before. You rinse out the cup too, and you’re about to dry it a little when his voice floats through to you.

“It doesn’t take that long - get your butt back in here!”

You return to the living room and he’s sat on the couch, waiting. You pause in the doorway and then he beckons to you.

“Over my knee. Now. You know what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

You swallow and make your way over before slowly getting into position with your hips in his lap. He shifts you about a little and pulls your sweats and underwear down to your knees before guiding your arms out in front of you.

“You gonna keep those there, or do I need to hold on to your hands?”

“Keep ‘em,” You answer quietly and he strokes a hand down your back. The comfort is only momentary because in the next second his hand lands hard on your butt and you gasp with a mixture of shock and pain. He alternates between each cheek, delivering three more hard smacks and you whimper and clench your hands into fists.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” His free hand presses firmly into the middle of your back as he deals another half dozen blows.

“Uh huh - yes!” You correct yourself, knowing that you’re supposed to use your words.

He pauses the spanking for a moment and squeezes your cheeks. “Tell me,” He says quietly.

“I - I broke the rule about how many coffees I can have,” You say and then cry out as a fresh volley of hits lands on your skin.

“And…?”

You close your eyes briefly, feeling ashamed. “I - I lied to you about having it.”

“What else?” You don’t answer right away and so he unleashes again with a series of hard smacks that alternate on your cheeks, ending up with a couple of hits to your tender sit spot.

“I was rude! I’m sorry!” You kick your feet but to no avail as he just shifts to clamp one of your legs beneath his own.

“Quit struggling.” His tone is impassive and he reaches across to pinion your wrists without missing a beat before you have the chance to try and reach back to cover yourself. “You earned this baby girl, and you’re gonna take it.”

The only sounds for the next minute or so are the slap of palm against skin and you yelp and wriggle as he lands hard slaps to your bottom and thighs. Tears leak out, a mixture of pain and regret, as you twist your hands together within his grasp. Stupid coffee with it’s syrup and stupid chocolate cream…

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise, please!” You cry out as the blows rain down, seemingly getting harder. How can his hands be so soft and yet so hard at the same time?

“Yeah, I bet.” He lands four more hard slaps, and the final one ends with his hand impacting and then rubbing firmly against your burning flesh. You wriggle forward as though trying to escape and then give in to the treatment, as however sore it is, the gesture signals the end of your ordeal.

“You gonna stick to our rules in future, baby girl?” He squeezes the flesh hard and you whimper, kicking your feet again.

“I promise!”

“Alright then,” He answers and releases you from his grip, helping you to your feet. “Into the corner now - five minutes.”

Normally you would pout and argue about corner time, but you’re fairly sure that your ass is a beacon and so without protest you allow him to set you upright and shuffle you to the corner.

“Hands on your head, baby girl. You have a little think there about our rules.”

Backside throbbing, you do as he says, amazed that your butt seems to have developed its own heartbeat.You know of course that you were wrong to break his rule, and even more so to lie about it. You sniff, feeling sorry for yourself and settle in for the wait…

~*~

“OK, we’re all done, baby girl. Out you come. Come on and give me a hug.”

You turn eagerly and throw yourself into his waiting arms, happily inhaling the scent of his skin. “‘M sorry,” You answer truthfully, “I won’t do it again.”

“Sure hope not,” He says, giving you a squeeze. “Much more fun things to do than punish you…”

You look up at him shyly. “Show me?”

…

TTT

[violetswritingg]

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

9

A few seconds later......

"I'm just fine, you're the one who almost had a house drop on them." His words bit at her exposed nerve endings. Filling Riley with regret for even stopping to check on him, her stomach twisting in knots.

"Right. Okay then." Riley was tired, she was hungry, but also still nauseous, her head hurt and now her chest felt tight hearing the sharp tone that had left Tyler's lips. Something so familiar but so distant in her memory. It was how he always sounded when he was upset with her for doing something dangerous.

Or, at least, stupidly dangerous.

Riley turned on her heel and made it a grand total of two steps before the sound of skin against skin and a quiet yelp made her turn back around. Witnessing Tyler, holding his shoulder, glare at the dark-haired man beside him, who had appeared out of nowhere. Having been around the back of the house-turned-debris they were poking around. The new face simply raised his brows and put his hands on his hips, coffee eyes drilling expectantly into Tyler. His ever-present smile never really leaving his face, even present now, a slight curl to them as he nodded his head in Riley's direction.

Tyler glanced her way looking like a kicked puppy, barely meeting her slightly amused-mostly shocked expression and round eyes.

"Sorry" Tyler sighed, "I didn't mean that."

"Kinda felt like you did." Riley swallowed hard, eyes squinting as the sun started to shift positions in the sky, having to raise a hand to block the rays from fully blinding her. "I'm uh- I'm gonna go." She started to walk, Tyler's voice calling after her. His boots crunching against the ground in quick strides.

"No, wait, really, I'm sorry. I'm just still pissed off about that shit with Kate-"

"It's fine Owens. You don't owe me any-" She had barely turned around, desperate for Tyler to not see the hurt she was feeling, because she had no right. But also wanted to just drop everything and apologize and fall into his arms. After her day she knew a single hug from him, if they were still in good standing with each other, would probably make her feel like it would all be okay. Truly. If even only for a couple minutes.

"Please don't call me that." Riley stopped, angled away from the blonde man, shoulders raised. Tyler's voice barely carrying, but it was enough. A lead weight dropping onto Riley's chest. "Just..." The man looked around for a second, "This isn't your fault ya know?" Tyler's abrupt change, turning it on her, shouldn't have thrown her. Not after her experience with it firsthand. But she is.

"Easy for you to say," She sputtered, "It's easy for you, all you do is run around and shoot fireworks up into tornados or god knows whatever else your followers ask you to do next. But for me?" She should stop, She knew that, but once she had started it was like a single crack had suddenly blown open and the dam was crumbling more and more with every word that left her mouth unfiltered, "Every time I fail, it's a town that's hit. Family homes ripped from the ground. Torn to shreds. Parents without kids and kids without parents. So, thank you for saying that, but it is. I could have prevented this Tyler. I could have." She didn't know who she was begging to believe her. Him or herself. "But I fucked up. As per usual."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tyler scoffed, eye wide as he stared her down, hating how Riley's face dropped, her eyes losing any spark they had, but confused more than anything. She couldn't think-

"I'm not my dad. He was always so good at this, I'm sure he'd have it all figured out by now." Riley shrugged, small, pitiful little bubbles of semi-laughter popped up and out of her lips as she shook her head. Gaze eventually falling to her feet as her arms wrapped around her stomach.

She looked so small.

"Maybe..." Tyler started off gently, "but you can't know that. And I'm sorry, but have you met you? You are exactly like him, in a good way." Tyler points at her quickly as she went to open her mouth. "You are not a fuck up Riley. You're working harder than any other chaser I know to actually find answers, help people. But Jesus Christ Riley," He chuckled, beside himself, worry glazing over his eyes, "when is it going to be enough? You almost let yourself get crushed by a house! A couple hours ago! And then you just walked away like it was no big deal." Tyler couldn't stop more incredulous laughter from tumbling past his lips like missiles aiming right at her open wounds.

"So that a family could lay one of its members to rest intact!" Riley bit, chewing through every word. Nails digging into her palms.

The word hit him like a punch to the gut and flashes of that moment. Seeing Nathan's body, Riley sobbing under his weight and covered in her fathers blood. The woman, now grown, in front of him and lacking the rust-colored stains as the one in his memory.

"Ty, I'm sorry-" She wanted to kick herself. Screaming why?! Over and over and over. Tyler didn't let her finish though. Riley taking a step back at the shift in his posture, his shoulders slumping forward as his jaw dropped, quick breaths puffing in and out of his lungs.

"What about you? Is it me that's going to have to pull your body out of a house so I can bury you intact? Like I pulled you out of that truck?"

It felt like she had been dealt a physical blow, the way all the air left her body, as if punched in the stomach. That's what she would equate it to. That sounded right. Shit. Her eyes started to burn, still locked on Tyler's now wide-open orbs. His own shock painted so clearly in the blue-green waves, followed by guilt, and lastly, panic.

For the first time in a very long while, she was met with the familiar feeling of losing something she didn't think she ever would. But that was her fault, as per usual. It was all her fault.

"Riley-"

"Ri, there you are. I have been looking everywhere for you!" Riley was broken out of the fog she didn't even realize she had fallen into by the sudden jolt of a hand clapping her on the shoulder. Shaking her gently a bit before pulling her into his side.

"Daniel." She muttered, leaning more into his hold as exhaustion swept over her like a storm cloud on an April day in Oklahoma. Knees feeling like Jello all of a sudden.

"Hey there boss lady, we need your help with something." His arm over her shoulder anchored her, her hand coming up to grab his as he started to shift them away from the blonde man who looked like he was about to lose his mind.

"Wait- we were in the middle of something. Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it- Not like that-"

Tyler stops in his tracks, having followed behind a couple step without hesitation, as Daniel whipped his head around with a far nastier glare than Tyler ever though such a baby face could make. His breaths felt heavy in his chest, Pulling away from Boone as he felt hands on his shoulder and back. Dragging a hand down his mouth and shaking his head as he could only watch Daniel take Riley away.

"We were worried you had found yourself buried under some other little old ladies house, Sarah, Jenny, and I at least." His voice was gentle, but still joking. Trying to bring the old Riley back, the one who would hang out the Warlock's window in the middle of a storm. Their Riley. Their fearless leader and most looked up to person. Their hero. "You're welcome for the assist, by the way. I take payment in affection and head pats." The 20-year-old grinned down at Riley and the slightly older young adult shook her head. Slowly coming back to herself. Her grin practiced, not meeting her eyes, having almost perfected it after pushing herself to meet their expectations – everyone's expectations – for years.

"Can it Casanova, save it for girls your own age." Riley could see the pure relief sink into Daniel's face and her head ached.

"What if I don't like girls my own age? What if I don't like girls?" He grinned brightly, still supporting her but bouncing up and down as best he could.

"Then why you looking at me like that, huh?" Riley elbowed his side a bit, wincing when her body ached, her side stinging at the movement.

"This is just how I look at people Riley. What are you talking about?"

"You are really pushing your luck kid."

"Ooh. It hurts, I may never recover!" He pretended to sputter and keel over, almost taking Riley with him. Daniel trying to keep his laughter at bay, conscious of their surroundings even when goofing off. While Riley forced hers to cover the shot of pain that went through her side at the sudden jolt.

"Good."

Daniel gasped and clapped a hand over his chest as he straightened up. Riley audibly groaning and gripping her side as he pulled her up with him.

"Sorry!"

~~*~~

“Thanks Sam.” Riley grunted as she tried not to flinch away from the feel of the needle going through skin. Fixing her ripped stitch. “You’re a lifesaver, knew it was a good decision to bring on a med student.”

“Ex-Pre-med student. You’re just lucky I watched way too much youtube way too early on in life with no parental controls in place.” Sam finished off the stitch and pressed a clean bandage over the area gently. Dead silence filling the room as three sets of eyes drilled into his head.

“I’m sorry what?” Riley breathed through clenched teeth.

“You said you knew how!” Sarah gasped, “You said-”

“I said I knew how, you never asked from where!” Sam defended himself, taking off his gloves and throwing his hands up.

“I thought it was obvious why I was asking you! The med student!”

“I was pre-med. For like six months!”

“Oh my god.” Riley muttered, falling back onto the motel mattress, her shirt falling back down as she threw her arm over her eyes.

“We trusted you!” Daniel chimed in, definitely not as angry as he was pretending to be. If anything, just based on his voice alone Riley could tell he was holding back laughter and she couldn’t help but think this was an incredibly stupid thing to be experiencing right now. And so she started laughing.

Then Daniel cracked, which triggered Sam, Sarah being the last to break. Actors.

~~*~~

It had been a couple hours since the whole youtube doctor incident, Daniel and Sam made pretty quick exits once it was confirmed she wasn’t going to die. Sarah stuck around a little longer, flouncing around the way she does when she’s worried and didn’t want to leave Riley alone.

The blonde managed to convince the brunette she was fine and was probably going to turn in early. No storms on radar, not ones that looked like they would produce anything till late tomorrow at the earliest. If not dissipate before anything could even really happen. Tomorrow would most likely be just a inventory and restock day. A day for data analysis and writing a couple more chapters of her thesis that needed to be turned in by the end of next week.

Riley’s mood had slightly increased but she still couldn’t seem to shake the lingering feeling of Tyler’s words. How they clung to her skin and ridges of her brain, the hurt. It brought up a lot of other unresolved feelings that then made her restless.

Trying to turn on the Tv for some white noise didn’t even help like it normally did, not when it was immediately on a local news channel. The broadcast showing footage from the wreckage at Crystal Lake. She knew it was torture to make herself watch it when she spent all day in it, having only washed it off her skin and hair before Sam fixed her stitches. But the feeling of debris dust and dirt and dried blood would always be a sensation that would never leave her mind or her skin. Lingering guilt hanging like a sword.

What is the saying? Heavy is the head that lies the crown.

All the damage played out in front of her as dollar signs flashed at the top, how much can an estimation of the face value even really touch the priceless thing those people had just lost? The feeling of home. Everything they once had, shattered. It can’t be tallied. It’s impossible.

But they still try. It’s absurd.

Quiet knocks at her door cut through the Tv. Riley rolling her eyes and huffing, pushing herself off the mattress slowly, “I’m fine Sarah! You don’t need to tuck me in,” Her hand gripped the door handle, pulling it open, “I’m a big girl I-”

“Hey.” Tyler really tried to tamper down his grin, but he knew he was caught. He never could hide from her.

His laughter wasn’t out loud, but she could see it, and it made her want to shrivel up and die on the spot. Honestly hoping for a hole to open in the ground and swallow her whole. They were in the wrong state for that unfortunately.

“I uh- I heard through the grape vine you and your child army had moved out by the rodeo, and I uh thought you might be hungry. You always forget to eat after a bad chase…” Tyler kept going until it was almost physically painful, until he simply, awkwardly, held up the pizza box in his grip. Like a kid giving his first ever date to the school dance her corsage. It was like a shock to her system, how disarmed she could be for him when he was like this. No bravado, no smirk or cowboy hat. Hair a little messy and not all put together. When he was Ty.

Time to go. Is what her brain was screaming at her.

So she took the pizza, gave him a flash of what she hope passed as a grin and shut the door. His face turning down at every corner as the door clicked in place. Riley, as if made of metal walked over to her bed, sat down, opened the pizza, and looked down.

Pepperoni, sausage, and olives. Her favorite.

Fuck.

Her hands were finding the door before she could really think about what she was doing. Her eyes meeting Tyler’s in an instant, the man’s shoulders rolling back as he stood taller. At attention, waiting for her next move.

Riley opened the door a bit more, leaning on it, hand gently placed over her right side, “Find the dog?” she asked softly, head leaning against the door now as well.

He just looked at her, eyebrows raising.

“Of course you did, what am I thinking?” She answers her own question with a pitiful chuckle. Head dipping down as her eyes went to her socked feet.

“I’m sorry Riley. I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately, I just- there isn’t really an excuse for it. I’ve been an ass, and I apologize.” Tyler burst out after taking a breath, dipping his head down to try and meet Riley’s eye. He hated when she was like this, especially when she was like this because in part of something he said.

“Thank you.”

“How are you doing after all that?” Tyler swallowed, tucking his chin a bit and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Leaning against the door frame, but giving Riley her space. Mentally telling himself to pull it together.

Riley just shrugged, “You know me, can handle the storm but never the aftermath.” Not after becoming the aftermath. It was never the same after that.

“I thought that you might want to see something good after all that today.” He held out his hand. “I wanna take you somewhere, might help take your mind off things for a bit.” His grin was hopeful, but cautious. His gaze soft.

Earlier had been bad, as bad as it gets with them, but this feeling. That look. It always left her stomach filled with proverbial butterflies, made her think that as long as Tyler Owens cared about her enough to look at her like that, that everything would be okay. And it would be, because he would make it okay, because he cared.

It was a look she didn’t think he would ever give her again after last chase seasons dramatic, heartbreaking close. So, she takes his hand, gives it a quick squeeze. He turned it over and sees the blistering and cuts that dotted her palms. Wounds she hadn’t even realized were there until they got to the new motel. Her breath got caught in her throat and she pulled away out of instinct. Tyler looked crushed and that was just too much for her conscience to bear. Her mouth moves before she knows it is. 

“Give me a minute? I need to get changed.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be out here.” Tyler grinned, a slight bounce in his step as he backed away from the doorway and moved back to the railing surrounding the walkway around the second floor looking into the parking lot and across the street. Riley waiting till the door was closed to let her smile slip, something feeling like it was sliding back into place and locking in. Like she had finally found the next correct piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

It was a nice feeling. Like something was going right for once.

~~*~~

[thesherrinfordfacility]

still not a forensic lip-reader but-

previously looked at what aziraphale was mouthing in the final fifteen, and whilst im not 100% certain on it, it gave me the hubris to look at the mouthing in 1941. because don't get me wrong, i know that crowley refers to "trust me" later on in the minisode, despite it not being voiced earlier on, and neil confirmed that that is indeed what aziraphale mouthed, but i... do not buy it.

full disclaimer, once again: not an expert in phonetics by any stretch, but was really into it when i was younger, and i have used it occasionally in my job. actual phonetics experts' input is most welcome!!!

so yeah, let's again begin with a capture of that moment, and slowed down to 0.9x, 0.8x, and 0.7x:

because whilst im not certain on exactly what aziraphale's saying, im really not convinced that his initial mouth movements bear much, if any, resemblance to what i would expect from "trust".

"trust" /tɹʌst/ is broken down into multiple movements, which i'll explain in four distinct stages: /tɹ/, /ʌ/, /s/ and /t/.

the first is the trickiest to explain, insomuch that broadly speaking, the /tɹ/ consonant cluster isn't spoken like one might think at first glance - instead of the 'tuh' and 'ruh' consonants merging exactly as they sound individually, it often evolves into a "ch" or "jj" cluster, and instead it sounds like 'chr' /tʃɹ/ (by the by, it happens often with the 'dr' cluster too!). so, in terms of what the mouth is actually doing during this, the tip of the tongue is placed up and resting behind the top teeth on the alveolar ridge (AvR), the teeth are closed, and the lips tense, or tighten, and become rounded. /ʃ/ is a voiceless fricative, and so there is some aspiration as the sound rolls into the /ɹ/. as this happens, the teeth/mouth opens, the lips relax/pull back, and the tongue falls from the AvR and pulls back to prepare voicing the vowel.

'uh' /ʌ/ is technically the open-mid back unrounded vowel; the tongue pulls towards the back of the mouth, it is not-quite-but-biased-towards the bottom of the mouth, and the lips are relaxed (ie. not rounded). so you expect to see a rather relaxed, open mouth with this vowel, just before it closes for the next consonant.

'ss' /s/ is another fricative, and so is aspirated. with this, the tongue tip instead moves forward from the back (where it sounded the /ʌ/ vowel), to behind the bottom row of teeth. the teeth are closed, and the lips are still relaxed/not rounded, resulting in the sibilant sound being made by passing air through the teeth.

to round off the word, we then move the tongue back up to the AvR, and a flick off the ridge/behind the teeth completes the hard /t/ sound. this abrupt movement stems the airflow from the /s/ sibilance (ie. a plosive). the teeth remain closed up until the flick, where they then quickly open for the plosive, and the lips remain relaxed.

and then (very quickly glossing over this for completeness) we have "me" /mi:/, which is formed by contact of the lips together, and the push of the 'ee' vowel behind it (being the close, frontal non-rounded vowel) which opens up the lips as it vocalises.

again... i personally dont see any of this movement in aziraphale's mouth during this scene:

okay yeah, the lips come together and purse slightly, but that's honestly as far as i can see any resemblance between whatever he's saying, and "trust"? so what could he be saying instead?

it's difficult to say, especially towards the end of the above gif. his mouth moves so quickly, and i think it's a realistic possibility there's more than two words - maybe three, even four? i also think that just before the shot changes, he's not actually done speaking - it looks like he's cut off mid-sentence. and overall, aziraphale is obviously mouthing very 'sotto voce' (literally) - ie. to presumably avoid detection from the audience, his mouth movements are not as exaggerated as they would be in normal, overt speech... which affects how his mouth would normally move to form these words, and therefore how accurately we can read them.

to this end, like a madman, ive a) split the clip into three, and b) slowed them down ever further to 0.3x. first one:

aziraphale is really slow in forming this first word: its initially hesitant but then very deliberate. but the first thing we see is his jaw drop minutely (i think his jaw even pushes forward slightly?), and his neck tenses.

id also hazard that whilst obviously the quality is pants, and we can't see the placement of the front of his tongue, it's set behind his bottom teeth, and the rest is high and back in the mouth (ie. not behind the top teeth, on the AvR, where the 'tr' /tʃɹ/ cluster is formed).

after this, his lips then purse/round slightly, before relaxing again (again, not what would be indicated by the /ʌ/ vowel).

so all this to me suggests that a) it begins with a voiced sound (the neck tensing implies engagement of the vocal chords), and b) it transitions into a closed, rounded vowel, set in the back. the most logical construction that fits this, for me, is 'you' - /ju:/.

the rest of what he's mouthing? honestly god only knows what's going on here, but im gonna take a stab at it. i think it can be broken down into another two words at least, maybe even three with the middle one being a very short vowel. the issue is that the clip cuts off sharply when the shot changes, which makes it difficult to see how aziraphale's mouth results at the end of the whole thing*.

but let's start from where we left off with the /u:/ sound - where the lips are pursed:

two thoughts here:

1) after aziraphale says 'you', his mouth just simply relaxes, and doesn't say anything. it's a very quick rest, and the movements that follow it are even quicker, making it (for me) difficult to read.

alternatively, 2) he is saying something. so breaking this movement down, as his mouth relaxes from 'oo' /u:/, and his lips pull back from that rounded position, i think two things happen: his lips pull back, opening the mouth a fraction, and his tongue pulls down and slightly back. both of which could possibly suggest an /h/ sound, which is breathy and voiceless, transitioning into a vowel which in this case is most likely in this case to be open, or near-open, and unrounded - in which case, /æ/ would make sense.

for the next sound, this is where it's not very clear at all - im tentatively saying it's a /v/, which is a labiodental fricative phoneme, meaning that it is primarily formed when the top teeth make contact with the bottom lip. aziraphale's mouth certainly closes back up from the open position, but it's not entirely clear whether his teeth do contact his lip. that being said, if aziraphale is saying anything here, completing the word with the /v/ is logical - 'have', /hæv/.

okay deep breath, we're onto the last couple of movements now-

im going to scream, this last bit is so difficult-

one thing is that i do think, is that aziraphale is saying two words here: watching closely, his lips part so, so minutely before coming together again, and forming the start* of the next word. most likely? that tiny little word he's forming in that small, minute gap is 'a', which aziraphale has previously pronounced in the show (and i think he is here, too) as 'uh', /ʌ/.

after this, his lips return to contact, before parting again into the last movement that we see - the shot changes, and the word is cut off (so far as i can tell)*. but if you return to the 0.6x gif up above, you can see that all of this movement is so quick that im definitely having trouble being certain on what the last one is. because all of the lip-presses are in quick succession to each other, i think he might be forming a 'ww' consonant - /w/, but can't be sure.

so, possibly: "you have a w-", /ju: hæv ʌ w/

so look - altogether, this is a massive amount of unhinged speculation and, as ive said previously, i am nowhere near a professional at this (fancy terminology is all well and good, but i was just really into linguistics and phonetics when i was younger). im sure i will be eating humble pie at some point over this but... i really don't think, regardless of what he is actually saying, that he is saying 'trust me'.

and in a way - it's the implications of it that are more interesting to me: because if aziraphale doesn't say 'trust me' in this bit, but both he and crowley acknowledge that he says it at some point, when does he say it?

[gendervapor14]

treating myself to some old OP episodes to alleviate the horrors and i can’t resist the urge to ramble about bell-mère’s death a little bit.

so, i will start here, with this iconic moment:

manga readers may notice something right off the bat. “hey, arlong’s not aiming for her head!” yes, in the anime, seems they switched his aim for the heart. i actually prefer this. first of all, that flintlock is huge compared to her, so head or heart, it’s gonna kill her. not a fatality issue. i’m just a huge sap, and i think there’s something more symbolic about him shooting her in the heart for defending her love - her kids. (even tho all of this could have been avoided if she just lied, and then she’d actually be able to keep loving and supporting her kids, but, uh, i digress)

this moment really captured me when i was first watching, because for the first time, one piece truly felt dark. this wasn’t just an upsetting backstory. it had some element of gore here, which i’m not sure would be as effective if he went through with a headshot. they might have censored it a bit more.

more (slightly gruesome) photos and analysis beneath the cut 👀

look at what they got away with here!! this was early one piece mind you, so i feel like things were generally a little cushier? (or maybe that’s just my nostalgia talking XD) but the harsh black and white contrast, the utter silence during this scene, the speed in which this happened! (it was a pain to pause and scrub and get good screenshots, let me add). i will say i’m not up to date with current OP shenanigans, but to me, this seems like one of the most abrupt and brutal deaths in the series. (and this doesn’t even put into account the horrid beating she got beforehand)

there are some nice parallels here between her death and rosinante’s, (most notably her last words being “i love you” to nami and nojiko, and a flintlock as the weapon of choice), but even then, i think this is a bit nastier. seven little bullets in a 10ft tall man is painful, yes, but it wasn’t gruesome, and he managed to cling onto life for a little while afterwards. this was just. bang. done. heart – gone. leaves the viewer totally reeling.

in a way i feel like it’s almost an honor for bell-mère to get such a violent death? okay hear me out i know that sounds crazy. she sacrificed herself for her kids and went out kicking and screaming (or standing solemnly, towards the end). she brought forth such a refreshing take on women in one piece. i mean, let’s not forget this scene:

she was gonna blow his brains out!! zero hesitation!! how many characters in this series, let alone women, would go through something like this? i get that different characters have different honor codes and such, but it was sooo incredibly invigorating to see a woman get her hands dirty like this.

so by that logic, it’s kind of weirdly nice to see her not be treated like a little doll? this is highly speculative though, because i’ve noticed there’s this rather annoying trend where women are used as a moral compass for villains. “oh, look how deplorable arlong is, he did that to a young pretty woman!” we see the same thing with doflamingo, for instance, in his “fight” with viola. “oh how heinous, he threw her to the ground! how disrespectful! she’s just an innocent princess!” yeah, ugh. getting off tangent here

this whole scene set a standard for me, (and hopefully other viewers), who kind of saw the series as a fun lighthearted pirate adventure. yes, there was tragedy and sadness before this arc, before this backstory, but something about this moment in particular made my perception tremble. the bar was raised! a compelling character and backstory can have a truly harrowing ending!! a delightful revelation for me, for whatever reason XD

feel free to chime in if ya got any additional comments or takes on the matter. i don’t think bell-mère gets enough love. if you do wanna chime in, just um. be nice. i’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, okay. and multiple interpretations of these scenes are valid! i’d love to hear ‘em! <3

[robotsrawesome64]

ohhh please can you do cod match up for me?? i'm female, german, 27, aquarius and work as an artist and project manager at an agency specialised in classical music. at work i'm very organized, detail oriented and efficient, but in private i like to slow things down. i guess you could say i have two personalities: at work i like getting things done and have no problem arguing with people, but in private i literally hate calling the doctor's office lol.

it's very hard for me to take my brain off work and usually only achieve that by getting engrossed in a show or painting. i like cooking, not so much baking. my hobbies are reading, going for walks (how very german of me), playing with my cat. i can be very funny, but i am more introverted and a very good listener. my love language is acts of service.

my cod favourites are price, ghost and könig, but at the moment i'm leaning more towards könig.

thank you very much and lots of kisses 😍

and I AGREE::: (shorter and sweet ones now SORRYYt_t Cue some HCs/drabbley things:)

 @/fairypurgatory on pin & @/jolvelyn on twt [art]

W: Intimidating newer man in your house O God, dark if you think about it (sprinkle sprinkle glitter sparkles on the war criminal), abrupt end

◈ Okay. Neighbour. Neighbour König. (AARRURURURURURU GET MARRIED GET MARRIED GET- GET--)

◈ After many sweet-talkings outside your respective doors, y'all had a date due at your place. If you cooked for him- omigod. Social expectations be damned, the clear thought and skill behind it… When he looked back up at you, eyes boring into yours, you were half worried you'd bought a serial killer home? (Which I mean, technically yes, don't ask too much about his job history-) But no, his ridiculously intense, maliciously-coded gaze was that one of determined enrapturement. ◈ It was an amusing juxtaposition to see him meet your cat. Tough guy, tryna be smooth, leaning on the side of the doorframe.. Before his intense focus was interrupted by something fluffy and he hit his head and almost cried. He's not the best with animals, but after enough visits they become casually inseparable, and a key part of the cuddle pile. If your cat wasn't spoiled already they were now. Hey, the pair of you aren't half bad at taking care of something.

◈ Doubly fell in love with you when he saw you popping off at work. He got called in for something important you left at home, god forbid, but of course he had your back, emergency key and all. He knows all too well the importance of things needing to go to plan. But forgive him if he just stared in awe like a motherfucker seeing you go off on someone.

◈ Oh, don't you worry. When your teeth are clenching looking down at your practice's phone number for that long overdue appointment- it's right there, just a click away,- König will snatch it from you. Mixed feelings, perhaps his confidence a little infantilizing, but… it's like a vice is undoubtedly unclamped as he waddles away with the dreaded compressed waiting room music (as if it was a totally normal thing to do). He'd confirm any details prior bending over behind you, rubbing your shoulder and cooing in your ear about it. Because of course you can do it, darling, but he's always there~…

◈ Takes great smug pride in a)taking care of you, if that's something you want- and b)being with you. Uh, yeah, the badass work-focused bigshot is his? And putty in his arms? That's right. So proud of showing you off to others at any possible convenience. 'Tries' to be subtle about it. Keyword 'tries'.

◈ He needs a break too. Proudly, toxic-masculinely denies any interest at first, but would ultimately happily waste away binging something with you. Colours and shapes reflecting off the TV onto his narrow, goofy lil' glasses, eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus as he guillibly complains about some ragebait. Uses you as a human weighted blanket laid on him, supporting your back with his chest.

◈ König's a prevalent yapper during whatever you do together. He plans as much as you'll allow, whisking you off for dinners, lunches- all expenses paid (or halfsies). Or elaborate hiking trails he insists you join him on, though sometimes he likes to choose the ones with tricky bits as an excuse to help or carry you.

[creationtainted]

@countlessrealities said:

Vaggie lets herself inside Adam's hotel room without bothering to knock. She doesn't officially have a key, but he might or might have not slipped on in her pocket at the end of one of their hangouts. Yet another thing they don't talk about. "Hey, motherfucker! Look at what I got for our little lady!" Yes, the reason why she wasn't at the Hotel earlier is because she was out shopping for Hesta. She hasn't been back yet, too excited to share her purchases, so she has no clue about what has gone down between Adam and Charlie. The former Exterminator comes to an abrupt stop when she realises that the main area of the room is empty. Is Adam out? No, he wouldn't leave Hesta alone, would he? It's then that she spots the light coming out of the bathroom door, which is just slightly cracked open. Frowning, Vaggie sets the bags down and slowly makes her way there, hesitating just a moment before poking her head inside the room where the other former angel is soaking in the bathtub. "Adam? Uh, hey. You okay?"

His face sinks the moment the first syllable leaves Vaggie's mouth. He can tell by the tone that she's not angry, which is at least a bit of a load off his mind, but maybe that just means she has no idea what happened just yet.

No, that's definitely what that means, and somehow, that only makes him feel sicker.

What happened with Charlie was bad. Likely not the worst thing he's ever done, but bad enough that, suddenly, he might be concerned about the precarious perch his and Vaggie's friendship is already sitting on. Dammit. Fuck.

Eugh—a subtle flinch as he's pulled out of his head by Vaggie's much closer voice. He doesn't bother moving beyond that at first, but after a moment of silently hyping himself up, Adam does let his head loll to the side to get a look at his friend.

"Peachy." Just... peachy. "Man, they're just lettin' anyone in here these days, huh?"

It's with that thought that he finally decides to sit himself up, stretching his arms above his head with an uncomfortable huff. Alright, maybe he's been moping in here for too long.

"Fuck. Hey, just, uh, gimme like, five minutes to be decent, and I'll come meet you out there. I'm dying to see what you got for our little pipsqueak."