#tales of an office job

[queerofthedagger]

my coworker is not a stupid or unempathetic or mean-spirited woman but today we were talking about kids and future plans and she asked what mine were. as I tend to do, I just answered honestly -- that I love kids, but that it's not for me at all. that it never was, that I don't think I have the character for it, that I'm super content being the cool queer aunt/uncle/clanmember, and that I think you shouldn't have kids if you don't 100% want them. I did not say all of this at once, but over the usual growing confusion of are you sure, oh that's strange, etc etc. and it's like, I'm not bothered by this! like I get why many people would be but mostly it gets a tired smile out of me because again, she doesn't mean this in a condescending way at all. she simply does not remotely understand this, she who has pulled her fulfillment for decades from job and children, literally the two things ranking lowest on my list of Fulfillment Needs. she tells me that well, I'm only 31, I still have a couple of years if I do want to change my mind. I tell her if I ever did, there would always be adoption too, but I don't think I will. she says okay, but if you had a partner? someone who really wanted kids? I decide not to get into how I'm pretty content single and how that would simply be a deal-breaker, or that I'd encourage my partner to have kids with someone else then because I'm poly on top of being queer and not having a wish for kids, and this woman is about to retire and well-meaning but said that it's rare that you hear of people that really do not want kids. and again, it's not a bad conversation! it's just a reminder that people live in such different worlds, me surrounded by people whose last desire is to procreate, she by people who think a fulfilling life means a house and two kids and a vacation to spain each year. and sometimes it's just easier to smile and nod and not break an old woman's brain or to take insult at being told, at 31, that like. All That. i'll keep smiling with a bit of pity at the cookie cutter picket fence life, and she will keep smiling with a bit of pity at my catlady-to-be life plan. perhaps, that is just the nature of the thing.

[britneyshakespeare]

Nothing I love more than having a little tea w the office ladies

[cowboylikedean]

the vibes are good today y'all

[sanctamater]

 ' i again must thank you for agreeing to meet me, knight-commander, especially given the... current circumstances kirkwall finds itself in. ' our lady means the qunari camp, the refugee crisis, the barred gates and whispers, the discontent of the displaced that she, herself, might have been part of had the maker not been kinder to her. what had her father said? she'd been so small then, barely able to peer over to the top of his desk and he had picked her up all the same, pressed a gold coin into her open palm. there is no door in this world that gold cannot unlock for you. and so it was. who here in kirkwall would have employed the maker's charity if she had arrived; a landed noble with a young daughter, and empty pockets? add little coin to line their purses, and all within the city walls from magistrate to guard had all the time in the world to smile at her. our lady will not blame them for this - the maker would not blame them either; and who is she, to question his will or teachings? had he not asked his children to be useful? has the maker not tasked us to help each other? and if our lady profited from that aid, was it truly all that bad? perhaps i am about to find out.

 out of respect, our lady bows her head, dips into a shallow curtsey before knight-commander meredith. it had not taken her long after her arrival to realise though the viscount may be the face of the power, and nobles, merchants and servants alike lined up for hours for a chance at a petition, for a chance to be heard, it was meredith pulling the strings. i can respect that, our lady thinks. i can understand it, too. she could even admire it; the ability to keep even a small piece of a crumbling world stable, even if she had spent the better part of a month standing around, waiting for a viscount who never showed his face; until her knees ached and her feet were numb. after all, the knight-commander had nothing to do with that. the velvet wrapped offering weighs heavily upon her arms; but she remains tall; steadfast despite her small stature - she will not balk under that steely gaze so many had whispered about - our lady meets meredith's gaze, and does not flinch. she has such lovely eyes, she thinks. so beautifully blue. yet that is neither here nor there, and our lady sucks in a stale breath.

  ' but given those circumstances we are dealing with, i believe that i and others with me may be of use to both you, and the city that has taken my daughter and i in. ' the knight-commander does not seem one to beat around the bush;  and it would be a disservice, she thinks, to play coy after all i have done to get here. it's no easy feat to flee one's country, to manage a mine remotely, to gather the smiths and bring them to safer shores, to rebuild all her family had made centuries ago. she will not insult either of them by being anything less than direct. ' you seem to be pulling in more and more recruits - and they need weapons. more than that, you and your senior ranks need more than just plain steel. ' our lady may be many things - mother, widow, devotee; but she had been raised to be a businesswoman, and old habits never seemed to die no matter how many riverbeds she had left them in. ' knight-commander, i can offer you some of the finest weapons in all of thedas - and none shall stand against your blades. '

@idolbound​ :>

[prozach27]

It’s wild the number of posts I come across where people act like voting for or supporting Harris and Walz in the election is tantamount to implicitly supporting genocide. You know what actually helps genocide? Doing nothing while pretending you have the moral high ground. America is deeply tied to Israel and there will be no candidate who is as critical of their actions as we want them to be. We as private citizens do not have the power to make the USA suddenly cease all activity with Israel and demand an uncompromising ceasefire deal. Instead, we have to get our hands dirty and decide what path forward will mitigate as much harm as possible. You have one presidential candidate saying Israel needs to finish the job and another saying that we can’t ignore the tragedies in Gaza while vocally supporting a temporary ceasefire. These are your two picks. Thinking any third party candidate has a shot when none have any wide-reaching name recognition less than 100 days before the election is a fever dream.

The question then becomes, are you willing to say you voted “correctly” by voting for someone who has no shot of winning but is most closely aligned to you? Or are you going to vote for who will do the least harm? The idea that voting for a president involves liking them is a fairy tale. The establishment will always be the enemy of civil rights and safety. You’re voting for which opponent you want in office. The writing is on the wall about which candidate will be less of an uphill battle to fight against, and sidestepping the responsibility of making that decision by throwing away a vote isn’t moral or intellectually groundbreaking - it’s cowardly.

[skruffie]

something I adored working at Target was that in a tiny sense I was able to cultivate casual friendliness toward regular customers. Not friendships, but they were still a friendly face and sometimes we shared tidbits about our lives but that's about it.

the state government was kind of the opposite. I had a good rapport with colleagues I've never met face to face and played a small role in the lives of people going through the most traumatic events of their lives, but they needed to just be numbers and invoices rather than people. I had a specific role and even if I knew how to help social workers with a specific payment or travel problem I needed to not give suggestions on how to do their job. We were all bound by contracts and bureaucracy and it's soul crushing.

This job is the right formula for what I want. I really feel like I'm making a meaningful impact on people's lives because selling glasses for me isn't just SELLING. I try to involve patients in every step and inform them what they're buying specifically and still give them the reigns to decide. I'm confident in my recommendations and in explaining why, but I'm also confident in helping them know what to look for if I know they're still going to shop online. I have an opportunity to take patients seriously when they're having trouble with their eyewear. Now that I've been here for about a year and a half I get to also ask how their glasses have been working for them, if the orders I did when I was new had problems, and get them what they need. The most surreal moment was being told by someone that her husband and kids still talk about me which is why she scheduled her own appointment at our location. I have had patients waiting for me SPECIFICALLY to clock in or for the days I work, or patients come to our location when there's one closer to where they live because they like my attitude.

This is a relationship with the general public that feels a lot more special than just processing returns. Every day isn't idyllic obviously, not every patient is a delight to talk with, but it's overwhelmingly still been such a positive change for me.

[alonelywaterbottle]

Free me from my prison, they are making me send emails again!!

[mejomonster]

Oh man I'm going to read Tale of Genji and Murakamis stuff to get into a good writing style, along with my own stuff, this is

Sure going to be a Result

[kooyabooya]

HIERARCHY

m reader x dahyun // 9k words

(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)

“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.” 

“Perfect. Send her up.” 

It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place. 

“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”  

-

It’s as simple as it sounds: 

She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action. 

And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.

This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless. 

“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?” 

Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves. 

“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.” 

“Meaning what, sir?” 

Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing: 

“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale). 

“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.” 

Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long. 

“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?” 

“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.” 

“What about them?” 

“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.” 

Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion. 

She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.” 

“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.” 

“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?” 

Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student. 

But you’re not. 

The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room. 

You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed. 

“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.” 

And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week. 

She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows. 

“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.” 

The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face. 

At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky. 

You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done. 

“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.” 

“What!?” 

“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.” 

“That’s what this is about?” 

“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge. 

“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.” 

You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response. 

“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.” 

Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you. 

“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.” 

You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her. 

“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.

Her brows crunch in response to the title. 

“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.” 

She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips. 

Still no answer from her as of this second. 

“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.” 

Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal. 

“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-” 

“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.” 

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is it…just the one?” 

“Just the one.” 

Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t. 

“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.” 

Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year. 

“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.” 

“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-” 

“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.” 

“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?” 

Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”

“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.” 

She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow. 

Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on,  “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?” 

Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–

“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I told you. No.” 

“Really now?” 

“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders. 

Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place. 

Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point. 

“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.” 

She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing  her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy. 

Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly. 

Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders. 

A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate. 

“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”

Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark. 

“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.” 

She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?

So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.” 

It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands. 

“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.” 

A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too- 

“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-” 

“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.” 

This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too. 

“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-” 

You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her. 

Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing. 

“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.” 

It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before. 

Because her act is rapidly deteriorating. 

“Sir, I don’t follow-” 

“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”

“And how would you suggest that, Superior?” 

“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.” 

You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”

“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips. 

“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?” 

She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you. 

“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts. 

There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head. 

“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.” 

“Good.” With a sigh of relief,  a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward. 

This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into. 

You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and- 

“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?” 

You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her. 

“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven. 

“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.” 

She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.” 

“And that is?” She asks, naively. 

There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches. 

“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips. 

Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit. 

“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.” 

Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit. 

You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?” 

She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell. 

“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point. 

A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust. 

“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?” 

“What-” 

Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement. 

Strike one. 

Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk. 

“Superior, ah-” 

“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.” 

“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-” 

Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two. 

“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.” 

“Sir, please. I just need to-” 

You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.  

What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured: 

There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well. 

“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?” 

She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head. 

“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.” 

A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.” 

“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin. 

“Y-yes sir, I-” 

And another. 

“I’m not convinced yet.” 

Then another strike. 

“F-fuck sir-” 

One more hit to bring the tally up to seven. 

“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.  

Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?” 

She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.” 

You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin. 

“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again. 

“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-” 

She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass. 

You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.” 

“What do you mean, Superio–” 

Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more. 

“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”

“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.” 

“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?” 

“Absolu-” 

The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning. 

“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.” 

“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.” 

Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-” 

“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her. 

Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises. 

But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching. 

“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-” 

“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.” 

She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone. 

“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?” 

There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different. 

But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time. 

“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.” 

She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability. 

“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.” 

“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.” 

A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well. 

“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base. 

“Oh, my fucking-” 

A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust. 

Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more. 

The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever. 

“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-” 

“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.” 

“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.” 

You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier. 

She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-” 

Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around. 

A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.” 

She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it. 

“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?” 

She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.” 

You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it. 

Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her. 

“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement. 

It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-

“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off. 

“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does. 

Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash. 

One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens. 

“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.

“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless. 

A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?” 

Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal. 

You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon. 

“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.” 

She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before. 

“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.” 

An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about. 

“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.” 

Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.

“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.” 

She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.” 

[mx-monster]

request: male rabbit monster x human (any gender) dubcon

M!rabbit monster x f!human

cw: heat/rut cycle, dubcon,

It was a such normal morning.

You were startled awake by the piercing shriek of your alarm. You dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed, ate breakfast, got ready for work, clocked in five minutes before your shift and sat at your desk.

A morning like any other morning. No hint that something was wrong. No sign that your whole world was about to be turned upside down.

Until your boss called you into his office. Until you damn near fell over from shock at the sight of your boss fisting his large cock. Until you were pressed up against the wall with his arms planted on either side of your head. His face buried in you neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

“I’m sorry,” your boss whispered. But his apparent remorse didn’t stop him from grinding his hard cock against your thigh. His hand stuffed down your panties, rubbing your clit and dipping his fingers into your cunt. To say that you were stunned was an understatement. While rabbit monsters often got stereotyped as walking HR nightmares that didn’t think about anything other than food and fucking, your boss had been nothing but professional with his employees.

“Uh, Sir,” you managed to stammer out, “would you like me to call someone?”

“No,” he groaned into your neck, hot breath sending pleasurable chills down your spine, “I need you.”

While you weren’t an expert on rabbit monster heat and rut cycles, you knew enough to know that they were frequent and brutal. Often reducing the rabbit monster to their basest instincts.

You swallowed thickly, “Sir, you aren’t in your right mind right now.”

Your boss, the man who you’ve seen reduce grown men and women to tears, whimpered.

“Please,” he was full on sobbing now, but his hips remained unrelenting. Continuously grinding into your thigh searching for relief. “I need it. I need you.”

Heat pooled into your stomach at the desperation bleeding into his words.

“Okay,” you relented. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be the one to regret this.

That was all he needed.

There was no time for grace and finesse. He hiked up your skirt, pulled your panties to the side and thrusted into you.

“Thank you,” he whined in relief as his thick cock speared your swollen pussy. He set a brutal pace, fucking into you with wild abandon. With no care about the ethical codes you were violating or the dozens of employees right outside the door.

Sharp pain melded with molten hot pleasure. You bit down on your lip in a desperate attempt to keep you noises down. You were failing epically. The harsh thrust of his hips punctuated by the tell tale thump of you bodies hitting the wall. Your whines, his desperate growls, the squelch of your wet sex all melded together in a debauched song of primal fucking. There’s no way nobody knows what you two are doing.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your mind grew increasingly obsessed with the fullness, blocking out any rational thought. You focused only on the orgasm you were rapidly careening towards. You reached the crest of pleasure with a broken sob. Pussy spasming around his cock, your vision whited out at the force of your orgasm

On a whim you reached up and gripped both of his long, snowy white ears and pulled. He snarled, throwing his head back as he pumped you full of his hot seed.

“You’re definitely getting a raise. If we both still have jobs, that is.”

[glossysoap]

just wanna be yours ; ghost

tags/featuring: fem reader, misogyny, unwanted advances, reader experiencing what literally every fem presenting person experiences on a daily basis, ghost protecting reader, ghost drinks respect women juice, simp ghost, smut, multiple orgasms. very first cod piece so excuse any mischaracterization 👍

notes: italics are flashbacks.

playlist: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys, will be linked as well

word count: 3,257

Your senses are overwhelmed by Simon and Simon only.

Tears pricked at your eyes and you panted with every thrust of his hips. It took every ounce of your willpower not to let out obscene moans when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“No, no, no. none of that. You’re gonna let out every single moan and fucking whimper,” Simon growled, biting against your shoulder.

It all started when Graves directed his attention towards you.

Now, Simon couldn’t blame him because he didn’t want to become official with your relationship yet. He insisted that it was because he didn’t want you to get hurt, but since you work on the same team, you’re going to get hurt regardless.

So, to the rest of the team, you were completely available. Soap would throw in some harmless flirting from time to time but that was nothing compared to Phillip Graves, who would constantly ask you out on dates or comment about your love life.

Soap’s harmless flirting also never made you uncomfortable or scared, unlike Graves’ whorish attempts that always put a pit in your stomach. Thankfully though, Graves’ attempts at pursuing you were always slyly shot down or interrupted by Ghost.

Whenever you asked him why he would interfere constantly, he would stick with the same bullshit answer, “I can’t have him distracting you on the job.” You would scoff and roll your eyes, and he would let you because it was easier than telling you the truth. That he blocked any of Graves’ advances towards you because he’s in love with you. That he needs you in his life more than he needs the very air in his lungs. That he can’t breathe at the thought of you getting hurt.

He convinces himself that you’re safer if you’re not in a relationship with him. He convinces himself that if he lets you into his heart, a target will be painted on your back.

So he resigned himself to loving you from afar. That was good enough for him. As long as he could protect you and your friendship, he would be alright with not loving you openly.

Protecting you meant that every single time Graves approached you with that slimy grin, Ghost wasn’t far behind - ready to cut Graves off and shield you from his unwanted attention. He is hot on Graves’ heels the second he sees your eyes widen a fraction or your breath quicken. Ghost’s hackles rose the most when he sees the tale tell sign of an oncoming panic attack; you picking at the skin around your nails, leaving them raw and bloody.

Wherever Graves struck up a conversation with you and Ghost was in your vicinity, the Lieutenant would bark a command to some poor recruit. His loud, booming voice would simultaneously distract Graves and pull your attention back to your Lieutenant. Just the way Ghost liked it.

Other times, he would make up tasks for you that involve following him to his office or to the gym. Or following him to literally anywhere that Graves wasn’t. He might tell you that he’s having trouble with documents so he needs you to follow him to his office. He might say that Price called a meeting, when in fact, he never called one at all.

This was one of those times. Ghost was in the gym doing deadlifts when he heard Graves’s grating voice peeking out from his headphones. He tried to ignore it as he kept pumping the weights and pushing his limit, but to no avail.

“I mean, I see you around here all alone, and I just think it’s such a waste.” Ghost hears as he turns his headphones off. He waited a moment to hear whoever Graves was flirting with, if you could even call it that.

Ghost continued lifting the weight, jaw ticking when he heard your timid and shaky voice respond, “That’s nice of you to say, but—,” before Graves rudely cut you off.

“I could treat you—,” Graves was interrupted by Ghost dropping his iron weight on the padded floor, letting it bounce loudly. Graves was jolted from the conversation immediately and his eyes flashed to Ghost, who was now striding over to the two of you.

Your anxious demeanor calmed immediately once Ghost approached Graves, now replaced with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You knew Ghost had a possessive nature about him but no matter what, he would always put your safety first. And the second he noticed that anxious look on your face, or the way your eyes glanced toward the exit door as if planning an escape? His instincts went into overdrive, to not only claim what was his, but to protect what was his.

“Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?” Graves asked, annoyed that he was interrupted. He crossed his arms as he stared back at Ghost, who was now only standing a few feet from the two of you.

“You can, as a matter of fact.” Ghost replied cooly, without missing a beat. He spared a single glance at your nervous figure and without any hesitation, waved you over to stand next to him. You obeyed immediately, moving to stand behind the brooding soldier as he held his arm out to protect you.

As you eagerly took your spot behind him, your eyes grazed over him. You gulped, watching as his arms flexed and his veins bulged as his hands balled into fists.

You could tell he was getting agitated.

“What you can do is take a fuckin’ hint and leave her alone.” Ghost shot back.

Graves scoffs.

“And how exactly does this concern you, Riley?” The American shot back with a roll of his eyes, which Ghost didn’t take too kindly to.

“It concerns me because you can’t take no for a fucking answer, you piece of-” Ghost spat, taking a step further until he was in Graves’ face.

You reached for Ghost’s shoulder and tried to pull him away. You would love nothing more than for him to put Graves in his place, but you knew Ghost would get punished as well for getting into an altercation.

“Okay, LT. I think he gets the point. You get the point, don’t you, Graves?” You narrowed your eyes at the American, daring him to go any further.

“Sure do. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again! I assure you.” He scrambled, his southern drawl breaking as he apologized. He looked back and forth between you and Ghost, gauging his reaction.

“Okay, great! Then why don’t we get out of here?” Without waiting for Ghost’s response, you dragged him out of the gym and away from Graves.

You kept dragging him by his wrist all the way to the showers, his boots hitting the pavement behind you.

“You know I appreciate it when you do that but you’re just gonna get yourself in trouble one of these days.” You muttered as you put your locker combination in for a change of clothes. He waited patiently next to you, studying your face while you opened your locker. You could feel his gaze burning into you.

“I’ll deal with that if it comes to it.” He waved your concerns off. You sigh at his nonchalant attitude, grabbing your towel and change of clothes.

“Not if, when, Ghost. You keep putting yourself in positions like that and Shepherd will have you on probation. Especially for something stupid like that..” You mumbled the last sentence under your breath as you slammed your locker. You turned to walk away from him only to have him grab your wrist and pull you close to him.

Impossibly close.

“Defending you from that pervert is anything but fucking stupid. I can’t stand how he makes you feel. How you tuck tail and freeze whenever he talks to you. I see that.” He grounds out. His hand moves from your wrist to hold the small of your back, bringing you flush against his chest. His dark eyes bored into yours, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“I see how scared you are, even if you don’t want to admit it. Even if you don’t wanna accept my help. I’m always going to be there.” He almost growls, his other hand moving to cup your cheek. His thumb traced small circles on your skin.

“I will always protect you.”

“Why?” You shot back, fire burning in your eyes. He visibly recoiled at the rare sight of your glossy eyes glaring daggers at him. He was so accustomed to two expressions from you: The first being your bright eyes, crinkling at the edges from laughing so hard at some dumb joke of his. The second being your face contorted in pleasure, throwing your head back as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Why do you care so much? You’ve made it clear that you only want something physical and I’m trying to respect that, I really am.” You blink at the rapidly building tears in your eyes, forcing your emotions down. You refused to break down in front of him, not when you knew how this would end.

You knew that he would brush off your feelings as just a lust fueled crush that would pass any day now.

“But you make it so fucking hard.” Every word that comes out of your mouth is like a punch to the gut for Ghost. He can hear the pain in your voice and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“One day, you tell me that we can’t keep doing this because it’s a distraction for you. The next day, you’re showing up on your white horse to ‘defend my honor’.” You use your index fingers to make quotations in the air while you spoke the last three words. You’re animated as you rant, waving your hands and raising your eyebrows. It was clear as day that you’d been holding this feeling in for a long time.

“So which one is it? Do you want me or not?” Ghost felt his heart sink when your voice broke. You were at your breaking point, he knew that. You were done playing games. He knew that if he wasn’t honest right here and now, you would end this arrangement for good. He would never get to feel your soft skin under his callused fingertips or have your soft moans hit his ears.

So being honest is exactly what he would do.

“What kind of question is that? Do I want you? You.. you consume every thought in my head. Every room I walk into, you are the first person I look for.” He speaks every word so slow and languidly, leaning down closer to you. He moves the hand that was on your face down to your back so that both of his large hands were splayed across your back.

“You occupy every fucking inch of space in my soul. I cannot breathe when you’re not near me. Of course I fucking want you.” He shouts, his voice echoing off of the lockers.

You jolt a bit in surprise and your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. You bite your lip to keep it from trembling as your mind races.

“That’s a sick fucking joke, Ghost.” You almost whisper, stomach feeling like lead as you avoid his gaze. There’s no way. There’s just no fucking way he would ever feel the same way about you, not after he adamantly denied it time after time. Not after he made the two of you promise that your arrangement would always be no-strings-attached.

“You don’t believe me?” He scoffs in your ear, his hands still sending tingles down your spine. He didn’t wait for your response before moving closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

“That’s fine. I’ll make you believe me.”

That’s how you ended up here.

In your quarters, naked, moaning and trembling under Simon as he thrusted into you. His big, rough hands were holding your thighs so your legs were pushed against your chest, putting you in a mating press position.

Skin slapping against skin, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Your face was contorted in pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth hung open. Simon’s face was buried in your neck, grunting as his cock was squeezed by your tight cunt. Your cunt was sopping wet, your juices soaking his cock and mixing with his seed.

His mouth went to work on claiming you as his, for everyone to see. Licking, sucking and biting on the span of your neck, painting it with teeth indentations like a necklace.

When he got to your jugular, he bit hard. You let out a particularly loud moan at the mix of pain and ecstasy. You could feel him smirk against your neck.

“Atta’ girl.” He praised, angling his hips to thrust even deeper.

“Oh God!” Your eyes rolled back as he hit the spongey spot over and over, the knot in your stomach unraveling as you came on his cock. That would make your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Just me, love.” He muttered, pressing a wet kiss against the skin of your collarbone. The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, so naturally. You were too deep in your fucked-out state to even notice him use that name for you.

“I’m gonna ask you again. Do you believe me?” He asks, reaching two fingers down to toy at your swollen clit. Your juices mixed with his cum made obscene wet sounds as he rubbed the bundle of nerves. You cried out, still so sensitive as he rubbed mercilessly, not giving you even a moment of reprieve. His hips continued thrusting against your sweet spot. You could already feel the warmth in your stomach build again.

“I asked you a question. Do you believe me?” He demanded, slowing his thrusts so you would be able to respond.

You shook your head. It was small, but he noticed it all the same.

He clenched his jaw, and decided on a change of plans. He would fuck you until you believed him. He would pull every orgasm from you until you believed that he loved you. Every last drop.

So he hiked your legs up even further, ankles by his ears, and began pistoning into your swollen entrance. Your breath got knocked out of your chest from him hitting your cervix, only to turn into a wail as he slapped your abused clit, over and over.

Your second orgasm washed over you in waves, cunt squeezing around him and making him groan in pleasure. He fucked you through your high, rubbing your clit until your orgasm died down. By now, his happy trail was painted with your cum.

He never pulled out though. Instead, he stayed sheathed inside your warm pussy and pressed kisses to your ankle that was still hiked up on his shoulder. He watched your blissed out face as you came down from your high, admiring your parted lips and furrowed brows. Your chest heaved as you panted, reminiscent of how your breasts bounced just moments before.

“How ‘bout now, huh?” He murmured against your ankle, dark eyes trained on your face. Your eyes opened after a moment, still a bit unfocused from two consecutive orgasms. You still looked up at him through your lashes, eyes all glossy and pupils blown from lust.

His eyes peered into yours, almost daring you to shake your head again. He almost wanted you to, truth be told. That would mean he would get to coax more toe curling orgasms from his girl.

You rolled your eyes just a fraction and let out a scoff. To others it might’ve sounded like a pant or just an exhale, but he was perfectly attuned to every noise and expression you ever make. He knew it was a scoff of denial and doubt.

“So fucking stubborn.” He growls deep in his chest, wrapping his arms around you to manhandle you as he wished. You let out a yelp as he completely changed positions.

With your cunt still squeezed around his cock, he sat back and pulled you into his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your cunt was now damn near impaled on his cock, feeling impossibly full of his cum. He didn’t let you set the pace though, no. He was in control and you knew it, if the pathetic whimpers falling out of your mouth were anything to go by.

He palmed at your ass with his large hands, feeling your hips instinctively grind down as you immediately moaned against his shoulder. Hands grasping and clawing at his back, desperate to find purchase as you bounced on his cock. With every bounce, he met it with an equally strong thrust into your cunt. Every thrust hit your g-spot just right, making the knot in your stomach tighten for a third time.

Your hips instinctively bucked towards the source of the mind numbing pleasure, grinding yourself on his cock. You let out needy whines with every sway of your hips. Every sound that fell from your lips was like music to his fucking ears.

Once you started building your own rhythm, he took his opportunity to remove one hand from your ass and use it to reach down past your stomach, and torture that swollen bundle of nerves once more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—,” You babbled, slumped against his chest. Your throat was raw with how much you’ve been moaning, whining, screaming in ecstasy. Your nails were leaving red scratch marks across his back and he would wear them with pride.

You squeezed painfully tight around his cock and he knew you were so close, teetering on the edge, and you just needed some encouragement.

“Come on, give it to me. I know you can do it, love.” He murmured right by your ear, his husky accented voice sending shivers down your spine.

He rubbed your clit a few more times as he leaned down a bit to bite your neck, growling into the skin.

The knot in your stomach broke and your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your third orgasm cascaded over you. You squirted onto him and milked his cock for every bit of cum it was worth, making him moan into your neck.

He felt warm puffs of air hit his shoulder as you panted in exhaustion. He reached up to cradle your head and stroke your hair.

“You believe me now? You believe that I love you with every fiber of my being? Because I do. And if you want me to, I’ll spend every waking moment proving it to you. No matter what. Whether that means protecting you and making sure you feel safe, or worshipping you like the goddess you are, I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“That sounds good.” He heard you mumble sleepily against his chest. He chuckled, relief flooding his chest because you were giving him a chance.

bonus:

“…You know I believed you the first time right? Just wanted to see how many times you could go.” You mumbled as you laid against his chest.

You felt his chest rumble with laughter at your admission.

“You little fucking minx.”

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[rxzennia]

hibernation/ brumation

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 winter dormancy.

in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.

a month? isn’t that a little too long?

you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.

he’ll approve it, of course!

he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to

and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway

but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?

he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you

and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude

he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!

totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you

he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return

he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you

and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons

he digs that so much it’s unreal

there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly

perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf

or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior

it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently

and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have

he absolutely loves that. 100%.

“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”

“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”

since when did your complaints stop him

he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway

your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you

he finds his way back to your chair

you put him on the couch again

he comes back to your armrest

is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something

you give up

“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely

this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space

“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”

oh, so that’s what this is about

but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?

“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”

wait. wait, what?

it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 

“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled

“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude

“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”

you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in

he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought

not in an alarming way

you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way

“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”

you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 

you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions

never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled

he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!

he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.

“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 

though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy

when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.

you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf

and letting out little snores

is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 

so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…

but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period

as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years

you’re not covering your face, either

aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face

you’re so beautiful under your scarf

especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light

he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up

during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free

he will totally try to sleep next to you at night

what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!

it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!

you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you

and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug

if only you were as honest when you’re awake

aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.

he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 

your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job

or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong

he wants you back already 

because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime

he hates it

what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?

horrible, very horrible

but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake

you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room

the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while

he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly

and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water

“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face

“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep

then you remember this is your boss’s voice

and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”

do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart

“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”

he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.

there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 

maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.

“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”

[jyuansgf]

boss!pantalone x maid f!reader. 18+ minors dni. ⌗ breeding kink, bit of voyeurism, just horny thoughts for pantalone honestly. >__< (notes at the end.)

♡ okay but pantalone as your overworked boss who uses you for his own satisfaction!! :( you’ve been serving under him as a loyal maid – lucky for you, he decided to pick you up on the cold streets of snezhnaya. you were on the verge from dying of cold, from being starved. until this man changed your whole entire life, picking you up from the streets like you were just some stray cat. originally he would’ve turned you into the house of the heart, but why would he do that? in the first place he doesn’t even usually care, but he sees something in you. at least you have a purpose when it comes to him and in his eyes, you make an attractive ornament on his desk.

boss!pantalone who uses you for his own pleasure, every night after an irritating day dealing with commoners–and money. you just know what to do the moment he enters his own office where you just stand or sit around prettily there, the other maids are always jealous of you. were you actually a maid or just a pretty doll whose job is just to stand around his office? you would often ask pantalone to give you a task or to help the other maids but unfortunately, he would just shrug it off with a chuckle. you want him to give you a task, you say? but it would always end up with you on your knees as you suck him off prettily, soon enough your throat would be full of his seed as he praises you for doing a good job.

boss!pantalone who hates to see you get dirty, he would always often buy you pretty clothes, dresses or anything you ask for! even pretty lingerie sets. as always, everything’s gonna get expensive. you want those pretty necklaces? you can get it. you want those cute mary jane shoes? of course! he would buy you everything. he would like to see you dress up for him, he would even ask you to do a show for him in the bedroom you two share. do a little spin in front of him with that cute dress he bought for you, look pretty, be a doll for him. but don’t whine when the dress gets ruined, because soon enough you would be a writhing mess under him and the only reason why he wants you to be pretty is because he think it’s more fun to ruin pretty things, until you’re crying, sobbing and a writhing begging mess for him. (he would buy you a new one if you really liked it, don’t worry.)

boss!pantalone who would often bring you to his personal meetings with the harbingers–or with his underlings, they all find you pretty, of course. but one time–one of the fatui agents had made a mistake just by looking at you as if he’s undressing you with those eyes. and the next moment, he’s tied up in front of you two on his knees as you sit on pantalone’s lap with your legs wide open as his delicate fingers, knuckles deep inside your pussy making you cum on his fingers, plus points if he made you squirt! after all, the main goal was to give the agent a show of how good you are and that he will never have the chance to touch you. it was pantalone’s own way of punishing, but soon enough, the agent would be turned into one of dottore’s lab rats.

boss!pantalone who would sometimes see you hanging around with the kids of the house of the heart, he thinks it’s cute. the way you giggle around them, the way you randomly give them candies, and the way you actually let one of those kids sit on your lap as you tell them some fairy tales stories. one of the kids would even ask him personally of how you’re doing and why you haven’t paid them a visit yet. he thinks it’s lovely to see you around them. and as far as he can remember, you don’t even mention to him how much you love kids, is it because they see you as a sister figure or a mother? but in the end, pantalone would end up having these thoughts to breed you, to pump you full of his little pups inside your womb. he didn’t even think about this before but something awakened inside him, a usual fuck would fix this for him, right? but it didn’t. the thought of seeing you with a swollen belly around him, in your maid outfit–or any dress that he bought for you, he just can’t help it. soon enough you’d be pinned down on the bed, as he fucks you rough! you have no idea why he’s being rough. but he just aims to breed you, to cum inside your tight cunt until you’re leaking :( he would watch your cute little cunt as you can’t handle it to keep it in you anymore. but don’t worry! he’ll just fuck you as many times as he can, until he’s sure you’re fully bred to the point the only thing inside your tummy is his cum.

whew that was long.. tbh this is just me yapping & being freaky about pantalone >__< need this man playable already!!!! it's the voices telling him he has a breeding kink its ok. after the leaks of the voicelines about him, i love that he's a certified yapper :3!! (me too mr pants..) need this man to talk right next to my ear as he fingers me AHSHFSFHJSHF as always asks or reqs are open!! if you have any hcs, i'd like to hear about them please ^__^ most of my posts aren't proofread, so forgive me i just rawdog my way out of it ok ^u^)9

[changetyre]

Heyyyy I just read something with Lando and he says “I wasn’t asking” and I’m going to need moreeee please & thank you 😍

F*ck you!!! || Lando Norris x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: You absolutely despise the way Lando can having you screaming in anger and then pleasure in a matter of seconds…right? Part 1 Here

WARNINGS: **18+**, hate sex

A/N: I love me some hate sex, denying your feelings kinda fics

It was the worse feeling in the world, no doubt. Your first victory was right there, your hands ready to grasp it you could touch it with the tip of your fingers only for it to be ripped away from you.

The race had gone perfectly, exactly as you’d planned both you and your team had done an excellent job in what was undeniably one if the not the best race of your career, making your way up from P12 after a bad qualifying.

No further action

You read and re read the text ready to waltz into that damned stewards office and give them a piece of mind right before lighting the damn building on fire. That’s the amount of rage you felt right now.

Some part of you was absolutely ready to spend the rest of your life behind bars if it weren’t for that idiot of a man you so very much loved to fuck showed up in your drivers room.

“What the fuck do you want?” You scoffed, right about ready to slap him too.

He’d been the cause of it, happily taking the victory for himself without a care that he’d cost you your race and first and well deserved victory completely.

“I came to apologize.” Lando spoke, a smirk on his face that you wanted to wipe off but a fucked up part of you still enjoyed.

“Fuck off.” You shoved him out of the way as you continued grabbing your things scattered around the room to pack them.

“I am really sorry.” Lando repeated.

“Right you really did look sorry when you were happily spraying champagne up on the podium posing for any camera that pointed your way.” You bit back.

“Let me make it up to you then.” Lando grabbed your waist stoping you from moving around the room.

“Don’t touch me.” Lando almost believed you meant it if it weren’t for the fact you made no attempt whatsoever to get his hands off you.

“Wanna touch me instead baby?” That stupid confident smirk appeared on his face again.

“Fuck you!” You huffed angrily looking up at him.

“I bet you do.” Lando laughed before pushing his lip on yours.

You moaned in annoyance but once again didn’t try hard to push him away. Lando basked in the way you accepted it and tried fighting for dominance with your lips which only for today he’d be okay with giving you.

“I hate you.” You whispered as you yanked Lando’s hair back allowing you to trail your lips down his neck.

“I bet you do baby.” Lando only spurred you on as he felt you leaving marks across his skin.

“I do…so fucking much.” You almost moaned the words this time as you ripped Lando’s shirt off him letting your lips continue their journey downwards before yanking his pants down too.

“Show me how much darling.” Lando knew he had to be quiet, despite the fact that your little adventures weren’t secret to many anymore being victims of your loud ventures around the paddock after a day like today it didn’t seem wise to give people more to talk about.

You didn’t feel like prepping him, you quite frankly didn’t care for anything other than taking out your frustration on him, to make him whine and ache at your hands.

So as you began harshly sucking on his length you basked in the way his knees buckled from under him forcing him to find the nearest support to keep himself upright.

He tried to sit down but you were quick to deny him that luxury.

“You sit down and I’ll stop.” You threatened and you reveled in the way he obeyed, straightening up and his eyes begging for more.

Your own cheeks hurt with how hard you sucked him and you knew he wouldn’t last long, and you watched for the tell tale signs carefully.

“Sh*t that’s so good baby.” Lando panted as he gathered your hair in a ponytail.

His head fell back in pleasure, as he tried his hardest to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape his lips.

“I’m almost there…keep going…ah…ugh!” Lando’s groans got louder.

Just as he was about to release you stopped.

“WHAT THE-“ Lando absolutely hated the feeling, the ache that settled in his core with his pleasure being ripped away right at the last second.

“Feels shit doesn’t it.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“You little-“ Lando hated the fact that he for 1 second believed you’d make him feel good and forget about today.

“Have fun taking care of that.” You poked Lando’s rock-hard dick before getting up, grabbing your bags and leaving him.

[wilwheaton]

It’s thanks to his running mate that Trump knows about Springfield, Ohio at all. For some time Vance has been talking about Springfield as a cautionary immigration tale, since a large number of Haitian immigrants have moved there in recent years, drawn by job openings and a low cost of living. But it wasn’t until neo-Nazis began spreading a lie about those immigrants eating pets that Vance got people to really pay attention to Springfield. The story is false, but it ricocheted through right-wing social media, quickly being promoted by Elon Musk, various Republican members of Congress, and Vance himself, who was all too eager to spread it far and wide. When he has been challenged about it, Vance insists that while no one has been able to document a single incident of a Haitian immigrant (or anyone else) kidnapping and eating people’s pets in Springfield, his office is supposedly fielding calls from people who have heard the stories, and for some reason decided that they should call their senator about it. To say that strains credulity would be generous, but Vance’s point is that we don’t need genuine evidence, because it’s so clear that immigration makes Americans’ lives worse. This is what he told CNN’s Kaitlan Collins when she challenged him: “Whether those exact rumors turn out to be mostly true, somewhat true, whatever the case may be, Kaitlan, this town has been ravaged by 20,000 migrants coming in.”

Trump and Vance Are Preparing For a Bloodbath

[vivalabunbun]

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Teal-orange eyes snapped towards the ticking clock on his oak desk, the time read 5 pm. Alhaitham’s duties were over for the day, now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Swift hands gathered up the papers scattered across the dark wood, stacking them into a neat pile before his body pushed against his plush seat. The golden glint of the ring on his finger only spurred him on to quickly exit his office. 

“Hey! Alhaitham are you leaving work now? Great, how about we grab some drinks with-”

“No. I’m busy.” He bluntly dismissed his blond senior. 

A firm hand snatched up his blazer that had been thrown across the back of his seat, the other flicked off the desk lamp. 

“Oi! Your senior is inviting you to a-”

“If you have a request you need approved then please leave it on my desk, I’ll look over it once I return back to the office on Monday.” Alhaitham skirted past the blond’s still frame at the doorway, paying no mind to the disgruntled scrunch on Kaveh’s face. His mind was focused on more pressing matters. 

–

“And then the brat just WALKS past me as if I were some dust on the ground! Could you believe that?” Kaveh thumps his glass back onto the tavern table, a small splash of wine lapped over the side. 

Tighnari took another big swig from this glass, his ears weren’t drunk enough to handle the tumultuous complaining of the blond. Cyno was only half-heartedly listening, ruby eyes trained on the brand-new deck of cards he had spent the week building in his hands. 

Yes, it is just a typical Friday afternoon. Colleagues gathered at Lambad’s Tavern, congregating at an outdoor table and enjoying the nice wine and early Spring air. Although more often than not, there would only be three seats filled instead of four. 

“Just what is so important that they trifle over common courtesy? In the world of job opportunities, networking and connections are a critical part of getting higher up the chain. Just how did that shrewd man get that promotion?” Kaveh’s face already had the tall tale signs of a drunken glow. 

“Well, it’s not really that out of character for him. People have always found his actions grating, but his efficiency at his work can’t be denied.” Tighnari rested his head on his hand. 

“There’s been a change in the head secretary lately.” Cyno asserted, eyes now trained somewhere else. 

“Oh? How so? He’s the same old crude man.” Kaveh dismissed. 

Cyno motioned with his eyes at a sight just behind the two other men. Two confused heads turned to follow his gaze. Nearly choking on their drinks at the scene they were now witnessing. 

There stood Alhaitham’s towering figure walking hand in hand with yours, bags filled with books and miscellaneous trinkets carried in his other. What made the men uncomfortable was the uncanny softness dawned on the stoic secretary’s face, as his teal eyes focused on you. 

His Beta wife was pressing her body against his arm as she spoke close to his ear, pointing at random stalls and vendors. Alhaitham leaned down to hear you through the chattering crowd, making sure to maneuver your bodies through the bustling streets. 

The three men didn’t know what to make of the scene in front of them as the couple walked out of sight, still holding each other close. Kaveh wonders if the wine being served today was stronger than usual. However, the three unwed men now got their answer to Alhaitham’s sudden full schedule. 

The table of bachelors called for more wine. Maybe to cleanse their palette of the sour taste of jealousy. 

–

“Have you seen Alhaitham today? I’ve been trying to hand him this paperwork since Friday.” Kaveh approached the head lawyer at the water cooler, the weekend was now over and it was now Monday, and the secretary was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hm? The head secretary applied to use his paid vacation time off. It was approved last Friday.” Cyno took a sip from the paper cup. 

“Huh?” The papers fluttered out of the architect’s slack hands, jaw agape. 

His junior truly was trying to annoy him to death. That conniving bastard Alhaitham. 

Fontaine was very different from Sumeru, with different types of foods, shops, and culture. It was quite exciting the first week of your late honeymoon to duck into every shop along the city streets. You discovered that your husband was fluent in the language, anything you pointed at he would translate for you without hesitation. However, the wonder of sightseeing faded within just a few days, like the true homebodies you were, there was a silent agreement to spend the rest of the time in the grand honeymoon suite. 

The hotel Alhaitham booked was the most luxurious one Fontaine had to offer. You will have to blame this decision on the generous amount of financial freedom granted by a pharmaceutical payout. It was only fair in Alhaitham’s mind, you worked very hard during the rut brought on by faulty inhibitors. Hard work should be rewarded, so he decides you should be indulged with the best room service, fancy baths, and thousand-count silk sheets. 

How you spent your time in the suite was really no different than how you would spend it in Sumeru. Alhaitham was laying down on the silk sheets, back slightly propped up by down feather-filled pillows, unwinding with a book in his hand. 

“Ah…Ah!... Ah… Making your wife do all the work while on vacation? You’re such a terrible husband, Haitham.” You stilled your hips, hands propping yourself up along his toned body. 

“Mm? You were really enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt.” There was a teasing tilt in his voice, teal eyes never looking away from the sentences printed as his other hand rubbed circles into your hip. 

From this angle he reached deeper than usual, making you feel so much fuller. Your walls were clenching down, trembling with pleasure from the stretch and thick tip poking that one spongey spot. A while ago you had abandoned your book in favor of bouncing up and down on your husband’s lap. It was your late honeymoon, after all, there was almost five years' worth of time to make up for. 

You knew your husband was just teasing you, but your lips couldn’t stop a pout from forming. You shifted a bit more on top of his god-like physique, pressing his tip deeper against that sweet little spot deep inside. Wandering hands made their way to grope at his plush pectorals followed by your pouting face, eyes trained on the book your husband was so engrossed by. 

“Hmph…” A displeased huff left your lips, it was absolutely adorable to him. 

“Is something the matter?” The corner of his lip was upturned just the slightest bit. 

“It’s our honeymoon and yet my husband is already having an affair with a book.” You playfully sulked into his chest. 

“My, I never knew my wife was the jealous type.” Finally, he snapped the book closed, playful eyes gazing into yours. 

“I guess you learned something new then.” You gently confiscated the book from his hand, placing it farther away on the large bed. 

Alhaitham gave a hum of acknowledgment, both hands now firmly seizing the sides of your waist. Steadying your body before following it up with a solid snap of his hips. You pressed your face harder against his chest, muffling the moan that was suddenly forced out of you. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so quiet now?” His hips set a rhythm, slow and deep. 

His thick length dragged along your slick walls in all the right ways, you could feel every inch outlined inside you. Each roll of his hips gently lifted your body up before accompanying it back down. Your mouth fell open, breathing out soft moans against his warm skin. The smell of lust hung heavy in the air of the spacious room. But you wanted more, this slow lovemaking couldn’t satisfy the greed deep within. 

“Mmm… More…” 

“More?” His pace escalates just the slightest bit. 

The sloppy sounds of your connecting bodies were louder now, with each in and out of your slick cunt like purrs of pleasure. He was hitting that spot that brings shooting pleasure throughout your nerves. Still, maybe it's because your expectations have been set a bit high from your first taste, but your greed wanted more. 

“More~” You breathed out, face now pressed into the crook of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I know what my lovely wife wants.” A hand supports the back of your head, smoothing out the hair. 

Swiftly you got turned under him, his board frame now looming above, that handsome smirk on his face. He rested your head gently on the dawn pillows, as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. The combination of his weight on top of you and how heavy he felt inside your sobbing cunt sent shivers up your spine. Yes, this is what you wanted. 

Leaving the crook of his neck, your lips chased after his. Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a small huff, you were quite needy today. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss, shallowing all your noises. He shall spoil you, it was your honeymoon after all. 

In this position, he had much better footing and grasp on your waist. Meaning the strength and pace of his hips slamming into yours increased to the rhythm you desired. Moans were flowing out like water from your mouth, eyes teary with lust. The claps of your bodies echo through the room, he would pull out to the tip then slam back in. Just the way you liked it. 

Teal eyes observed your loose face, the rolling back of your eyes signaling that the knot was about to come undone. But before he lets you reach cloud nine, you have to answer a question that he’s been pondering. 

“Would you rather have consistent pleasure spread evenly throughout the year… or four days of nonstop, mind-melting pleasure then nothing for the rest?” Alhaitham asked right up against your ear, making your skin bristle. 

You felt his hips roll back to their slow methodical pace. Oh, he wasn’t going to let you taste sweet release until you paid the toll of his curiosity. Really, your husband can be so mean sometimes. You let out a small whine, trying to roll your hips into his but his firm hold prevented such action. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart.” Alhaitham continued to egg you on, clearly enjoying your displeased whines. 

“Why can’t I have both?” You muttered close to his own ears, tightening your embrace around him to offset the embarrassment creeping up on you. 

At your response his hips stilled, stoic teal eyes gazing at you as you looked away. You didn’t see the smirk that returned to his features. 

“Goodness, my wife is insatiable.” He dragged his length out fully. 

Before you could even let out another whine at the loss, he returned it fully inside of you. Filling out your unexpecting walls again pounding against that spongey patch, making your back arch up and toes curl. 

“AH!” Your body was pressed impossibly close to his. 

“I wonder if I should keep you at home, confined to the bedroom for your sake.” His hot breath ghosted over your ear. 

He was pistoning in and out now, fat tip abusing your sweet spot just the way you wanted it. Your walls were clenching around his girth just like how your arms were holding onto him to ground your sanity. The searing white flashes of pleasure were shooting up through your nerves, the edge was approaching fast. The filthy fantasy Alhaitham was painting in your mind only served to quicken the process. 

“All you have to do is be a good wife, and welcome me home with open legs. How about that?” Alhaitham pressed sweet kisses against your neck, a far cry from the filth that was leaving his tongue. 

You felt his teeth brush against the side of your neck before they clamped down. That was what unraveled the knot inside you. Your ankles hooked together as your hips pushed closer to his. Back arching almost painfully, bodying trembling and eyes rolling back. Alhaitham let out a small hiss at the tightness of your walls contracting. He wasn’t going to last long if you continued to be this impossibly tight. 

He could tell from the way your eyes were still seeing the back of your head you were still in the midst of your orgasm. This meant that Alhaitham was free to chase after his own release now. So he does. His length continues to pound against your quivering walls, pushing through the tight clenches. The extra gush of slick helped to accelerate his movements further. Sloppy slapping of skin against skin, he could feel that his tip was probably red and swollen from his calculated delayed release. 

Pressing his pulsing tip right up against your cervix, the tension inside him finally snapped. Flooding your walls with thick, warm release. Your body instantly responded, walls beginning to twitch and convulse more, trying to milk every last drop. Alhaitham panted against your neck, sucking on the soft skin from time to time as he held your body close. 

“Mmm… Don’t mark up my neck. I brought all these pretty dresses to wear and now I can’t wear anything but turtle necks.” Your fingers tussled through his messy ash locks. It seems like you’ve returned from cloud nine.

“You can just wear them in the room.” He pressed another kiss to your neck. 

Before you could voice your complaints your husband buries your face into the crook of his neck, a silent invitation. Who were you to reject? The sensation of your teeth clamping down onto his smooth skin, leaving deep indentations seems to appease his primal urges noted by the low growl that rumbles in his chest. 

“Would you like to take a bath, habibti?” Gentle finger caressed your face. 

You hummed in confirmation, nuzzling into his touch more. The calm, sweet lull of intimacy washed over the room. Passion satisfied, for now at least. 

“You smell.” Dehya scrunched up her nose. 

You gave a deadpan stare at your Alpha friend beside you. You recently returned from your trip to Fontaine, meeting up with your friends to show them the gifts you had brought back. 

The weather wasn’t that hot today so you definitely weren’t sweating, and your outfit was also fresh from the clothesline. You even took a quick shower before you went to the agreed-upon cafe. You brought your arm up to your nose for a quick sniff, nothing smelled particularly off. 

“I smell normal.” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“No, you smell like you just rolled around in the forest.” She retorted. 

Now you were confused, glancing at Candace and Nilou. Wait, why does it look like the two were trying to hold back their laughter? What is going on? You just wanted to give them their souvenirs. 

“What Dehya is trying to say is… it seems like you’ve gotten closer to your husband.” Candace rested her elbows on the table as she leaned in. 

Oh. They meant that. A scarlet flush instantly engulfed your cheeks, a silent admission of the truth. All at once you saw the gleam in your friends’ eyes, and they started hounding you for the details. 

The tea served at the cafe was always brewed to perfection and the leaves were of the highest quality. However, your friends were much more interested in the new development of your marriage. 

–

You were drained. You loved your friends, you really do. But spilling the tame details of the budding romance between you and your husband with burning cheeks sure depleted your battery. In a way, they deserved to know, supporting you for over five years throughout the murkier times. 

At the moment, you were curled up on the couch against your husband’s chest. Fingers fiddling with the ring that matched yours resting on his finger, as his attention was trained on the book in his other hand. It wasn’t time for your ritual quiet reading session, so you felt it was appropriate to quietly enjoy some skinship. Alhaitham didn’t seem to mind. 

“Haitham.” You began. 

“Mm?”

“What is your scent like?” You continued to fiddle with his wedding ring. 

“According to your friends, a tree.” His deep voice replied, never once looking up. 

“Mmm.” Your lips pressed into a line, still toying with the gold band. 

You had that look on your face, Alhaitham notes. Demons don’t disappear so easily, even at the start of a new chapter, they will continue to cling to your shadow. If he could, Alhaitham would strangle those devils with his own bare hands. But he couldn’t. So instead, he shall always be there to pull you out from the ice-cold water back to the warm shore. 

He flips the book over, placing it faced down on the arm of the couch. His full attention was now on you as he tenderly grasped your hand, pulling you closer. He pressed his nose against your neck, senses searching through the thick layer of opulent woodiness. 

The faint sweet hints of padisarah pudding mixed with the bath products and laundry detergent you shared were guarded by that layer. The scent that he recognizes as yours, the scent he shares with you. 

“I smell like you. That is the only scent I will recognize as mine.” His teal eyes peered up at you. 

You were silent for a moment, hand halting but still grasping the ring. 

“Pfft. Have you been reading my old novels again?” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh and smile. 

“Did you want me to?” 

“No.” 

You intertwined your fingers with his, rings clinking together, a physical show of a bond. 

Alhaitham rested his head in the crook of your neck, continuing to breathe in your essence. The scent of you always seems to lull him into a drowsy state of comfort. Yet, it wasn’t heavy nor did it cloud his thoughts, so he could always think clearly of you. Yes, this is the scent he adores. 

“Have you been doing something to make my Alpha and Omega coworkers avoid me?” 

“...” 

“What a weird Alpha you are.” You rubbed your cheek against your husband's resting face. 

You’ve been sluggish lately, Alhaitham observed. More often than not, he found himself carrying your sleeping frame back to bed after you fell asleep curled up on the sofa. Book in your limp hands. Your alarm would also be ringing longer than usual, you used to be able to turn it off by the first ring so as to not disturb him from his slumber. You knew he was a light sleeper. 

As he took a bite of the dinner you had just cooked he notes the blander taste. It was your usual style to throw in as many spices as you pleased. It was the start of flu season, and Alhaitham noted the cough that’s been going around in his office. However, he had a different hypothesis he wanted to share with you tonight. He watched as you chewed then shallowed. 

“Habibti, have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” His voice was calm, tone stable. 

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him starstruck, eyes wide and mouth agape. This was why he waited, it wouldn’t be good to have food go down the wrong pipe. He maintained a neutral expression, staring into your eyes to read the emotions that were running rampant behind them. 

“N-no… but…” A furrow formed between your brow as you brought a hand up your mouth. A habit of yours when you were deep in thought. 

The two of you were careful. Pills are taken at specific times. Morning after teas were always in stock around the house, either he brews it for you right after a moment of passion or you would drink it in the morning. However, Alhaitham wasn’t startled. He understands that even with birth control there was always a risk. 

Dinner was swiftly finished, dishes piled in the sink for later, there were more pressing matters to attend to. You were currently in the bathroom with the pregnancy test he had picked up on his way home from work. Alhaitham was leaning his back on the wall beside the bathroom door. He was trying to calculate when you last had your time of the month, or when exactly you began to behave differently. 

The singing hinges of the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts. You had that look on your face again. Alhaitham didn’t even need to look at the test in your hands to know the results, two red lines. From how frozen your stance was in the door frame, he already knew what thoughts were running through your mind. 

Children were never planned nor discussed, at the beginning the two of you were much more focused on your careers and enjoying your free time. That is to say, you greatly enjoyed the double income and no kids life. However, there was now a fork in the road. The hands holding the test were now trembling. Alhaitham quickly brought you into a tender embrace, to silence the wild thoughts before they begin to torment you. 

“Whatever your decision may be, I will support it unconditionally. Take your time.” Rubbing a small circle into your back. 

You were silent but your arms wrapped around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. Quiet reading time was a bit more quiet than usual tonight. 

–

It was now a Saturday night, Alhaitham had already situated himself on his spot on the couch. There was already a book in his hands, but he didn’t open it, he was waiting for you. You usually didn’t take this long in the shower, he was beginning to wonder if he should go knock on the door. But there was no need, soon the soft thumps of your steps were heard coming down the hall. 

Contrary to the usual, you make a b-line straight into his lap, curling up against his board frame. He didn’t say anything, supporting you with an arm and holding you closer. 

“I want to keep the baby.” You spoke softly against his neck. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes, mind going deep into thought. There was more than enough money saved up to support a child. Sumeru has free good quality health care, a great daycare program, and the best education system. The nation offers a generous tax deduction for families with children. There were enough rooms in the house that one could be turned into a nursery, it would be troublesome to have to babyproof everything and rearrange the furniture. 

Ah, the two of you will have to sacrifice your free time and sleep to take care of a needy newborn. However… He opened his eyes. 

“Then we should start making preparations for our new addition.” 

If it’s with you, Alhaitham is more than willing to sacrifice those luxuries and needs. 

Alhaitham had to be more observant, the changes to your body and hormones made it so you were much more sensitive to your surroundings. Foods that were too strong in scent had to be dialed back or not cooked in the house. He also took care to clear the floor of any stacks of books lest your foot knocks into them. 

The worst part of it was probably how the pregnancy was disrupting your sleep. Your body needs it, yet the growing bump and overactive hormones made it hard for you to find a position that welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. Often tossing and turning, Alhaitham would  place a pillow under your belly which seemed to help a bit. 

Then came morning sickness, Alhaitham is adamant that your child be thankful for all the suffering you were enduring to give life to them. 

The ashen-haired Alpha had been extra careful with his inhibitors as well, making sure each dose was measured to the line and constantly checking the dates printed on the bottles. Still, the clawing of his instincts only grew stronger as his teal eyes observe your bump growing day by day. You were working so hard to carry the child, he needed to do something to make you relax and comfortable. 

–

Currently, your bed has been buried under a mountain of quilts and plush pillows. You had your hands on your hips as your eyes surveyed the messy state of the bed you had just made a few hours earlier. You folded and pack those quilts away weeks ago, why were they back out? 

“Haitham, why can’t I see our own bed?”

“There’s no cause for concern. Your body must be tired, go take a rest.” A gentle large hand rested on your lower back, encouraging you towards the heavenly pile. 

That sentiment from seven years ago still rings true to this day. Your husband is weird. Still, there was a small smile on your face, what a silly sweet weirdo he is. The soft wafts of fresh linen encapsulated your senses, layers upon layers of fabric cushioning your achy joints and growing belly. Gentle fingers combed their way through your hair, making your eyelids grow heavy. 

Were these inherited instincts or learned gestures from old light novels? Oh well, the answer is irrelevant. 

One Saturday afternoon you were rudely awakened by the maddening repetition of thumping. You were now well into your second trimester, the bump on your belly growing steadily day by day, which only meant your sleep schedule only got worse. All your senses have been going into overdrive lately, every bump in the night making your eyes snap open. You groggily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, begrudgingly rousing your sluggish body from the haven of pillows and blankets. 

By this point, you and Alhaitham had announced to friends and family about your pregnancy, there were many tears of excitement shed that day. Followed by a steady stream of boxes and gifts placed into your or your husband's hands. These items ranged from teas to help with morning sickness to long loose maternity gowns. 

At first, you raised an eyebrow at the shapeless dresses your mother had gifted to you. Stating that they made you look like a lost ghost. However, now with your baby bump, the soft loose fabric felt divine against your sensitive skin. Carefully, pushing off the mattress you took your time gaining your balance. Moving has become troublesome because of your now shifted center of gravity.

Steadying yourself with a hand on the hallway wall you waddled toward the source of the commotion. As you grew closer to the room across the guest room, an extra space that was utilized as a small side library the barrage of noises stung your ears more. You felt irritation creeping up on you. 

Grasping your hand on the door frame you peered inside to see a head of blonde hair. Oh. It’s Kaveh. That explains the noise. 

You quietly observed the back of the unaware man as he continued to hammer furniture together. Your husband had told you earlier in the week that Kaveh would be coming over to help set up the nursery. He mentioned something about the blond having to pay off an old debt. 

Oh well, it saves you and Alhaitham the trouble of rearranging the furniture. 

“Ugh, that bastard has not changed a single bit. Who would choose such an ugly bassinet? His poor child will be welcomed into the world surrounded by ugly furniture.” 

Your lips pressed into a firm line. You had chosen the bassinet when out shopping with your husband. You bought it with your own money too. You thought it was quite cute… It’s cute, right? You waddled off to find your husband. 

“Alhaitham…” Tighnri stood just to the left of the glass door of the small cafe, your favorite cafe. 

Your husband was exiting the door, a small chime from the bell hanging above his head announcing his departure. A brown take-out bag, that contained the padisarah pudding you have been craving for the fourth time this week, clutched firmly in his hand. Alhaitham greeted his fellow colleague with a nod of acknowledgment. 

“I know your wife is pregnant. However, food should be in moderation. Especially sweets. You should know that during pregnancy the change in hormones makes it harder for the body to control its levels of-”

The ashen-haired man raised one hand, signaling for the other to halt their lecture. 

“I acknowledge your expertise and advice. However, time is precious and to save both of ours, I invite you to take this debate up with my wife. To warn you beforehand, you will lose.” 

Tighnari let out a huff of exasperation, steps heading in the direction of your shared home with Alhaitham. Surely you were more reasonable than your Alpha husband at the moment. Tighnari knew it was in their primal instincts to pamper their mates, caving into any demand no matter how unreasonable or troublesome. 

The head secretary has always been a rather level-headed individual in his eyes, sometimes to a fault, so it must just be his instincts influencing his actions. Tignari even heard from a certain blond that the ashen-haired man had given him the deadliest glare because the architect had critiqued your taste in home decor. 

“It’s normal for people to have cravings during their pregnancies, and for the most part, it’s harmless. However, there is a whole misconception about the saying ‘eating for two’. In truth, you only need about an extra glass of milk and an extra pita pocket a day. You are feeding a small-”

Alhaitham stared ahead at the path in front of him, doing his best to tune out the ramblings of the shorter man walking beside him. He had one purpose, and that was to deliver your padisarah pudding to you. 

–

Tighnari was now walking in the direction of his own home, spirit shaking a bit. Like always, Alhaitham’s prediction was flawless. He lost. The defiant blank gaze you gave him at the doorway of your house was enough to make the ebony-haired Alpha stop his clearly unsolicited advice. In the end, you got your pudding.

“That is all I have to report. Now that you have this knowledge, I trust that you will be able to decide if this proposition is fair or not. Here are the files for you to look through.” The ivory-haired Alpha placed the stack of papers on the smooth desk. 

“Understood. Thank you for the report, Cyno.” Alhaitham gathered the paperwork into his hands, beginning to skim through the contents. 

His teal-orange eyes soon left the crisp papers, peering at his colleague with an inquisitive glance. It wasn’t like the head lawyer to remain in his office after he finished delivering his information. 

“Is there any more you would like to discuss?” 

“Yes, I have prepared a gift for your child.” Cyno reached into his blazer pocket. 

Alhaitham hid his sigh. Your home was already littered with so many gifts and baby items, it was troublesome keeping the floors clear of any potential tripping hazards. You were now in your third trimester, slow steps more focused on your balance and the ache in your lower back than paying attention to the floor. 

Your husband wonders if he should have waited until he applied for maternity leave to tell his closest colleagues about your pregnancy. 

“Here.” Cyno handed him an engraved box.

Was this a TCG card case? Alhaitham’s unreadable eyes shifted between the case and the head lawyer’s eager eyes. Really, he should’ve expected this, he is already well aware of the tan Alpha’s obsession with the card game. 

“Thank you.” Your husband took the gift from the awaiting hand. 

“I custom-made the deck to be as beginner friendly as possible. Even still, these cards are staples in the game so this deck will be solid regardless of the changing meta. I made sure to have every card laminated as young children don’t know restraint. The box is also custom-made, it is made from solid wood but any sharp edges have been rounded out.”

“You didn’t have to go through so much unnecessary trouble.” Alhaitham wishes that Cyno didn’t. 

“Since most gifts have been either for your wife or for the child, I have prepared a gift for you as well.” Cyno reached into his inner coat pocket. 

This was unexpected. Your husband observed the tan man pull out a small journal. Stationary? You had already gifted Alhaitham a lifetime supply, but they were for only very important situations. So this could be a welcomed addition.

“I wrote down some of my best jokes for you to tell.” 

Nevermind. Alhaitham didn’t even want to reach for the small notebook. Cyno places it on top of the desk. 

“It’s unnecessary.” 

“It will help pass the time while entertaining your child. Your wife has been pregnant for a while now, it must feel like an maternity.” 

“...”

“Did you not get it? It’s because ‘maternity’ sounds like ‘eternity’ and-”

“I am very busy, head lawyer. Please excuse yourself from my office.”  

 Alhaitham was aware of the concept of ‘pregnancy glow’ from the anatomical journals he read some time ago. However, seeing it in person was much different from what the book had described. Another example of how learning purely from books is not enough. 

You were radiant, features softer and skin glowing. The aura around you has also been much gentler, likely attributed to your constant drowsiness and lack of stress from work as you were now on maternity leave. More often than not, Alhaitham finds it hard to keep his hands off of you.

 Resting an open hand on your round belly, feeling the subtle shifts of your child as he reads. Hugging you from behind as you cook, it’s to support the baby he reasons. He offers his chest as a pillow whenever sleep calls for you regardless if it was on the couch, you needed your rest.

However, there’s a caveat: others can’t seem to keep their hands off you either. 

“Oh! What a strong kick! I think they have real potential for dance.” Nilou exclaimed as she felt your belly. 

“Haha, what a meddlesome kid already. Kicking your poor mommy.” Dehya also had one hand resting a top. 

“It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s a good sign that they’re healthy and strong.” You let out a small sigh. 

“Here, have another pillow to support you” Candace placed the soft cushion behind your back, relieving some of the pressure. 

“Thank you, Candace. Even though I’m going to become a mother soon, it seems you’ll always be the mom of our group.” You giggled, giving your friends a wide smile. 

“Oh, you flatter me too much.” Candace chuckled, joining the rest in feeling your round bump. 

Alhaitham sat in your usual spot on the adjacent sofa, trying to read his book. However, his teal eyes couldn’t help but peer over at the hands that were plastered all over your belly. Although his gaze remained neutral, his lips were slightly pressed into a line. Their hands didn’t need to linger for that long he surmises. 

–

“Have a safe trip back!” You bid your friends goodbye, it was nice to have visitors when you couldn’t leave the house easily. 

Alhaitham closes the front door after their figures disappeared into the distance, offering his muscular arm to support you. You gladly accepted, as your feet and joints sang with relief as pressure was shifted off of them. Slowly strolling down the hall back to the living room. 

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss against your temple, a clever diversion from his true intentions. He couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips or the scrunch of his nose. Your friends had drenched you in their scent, overpowering your subtle fragrance. Tsk, this is why others should keep their hands to themselves. 

“Let's take a shower. Of course, I’ll assist you.” 

“Mm? Haitham, it’s pretty early. We haven’t even had dinner.” 

“I’ll help you wash your hair as well.” 

“Haitham-”

“I’ll massage your shoulders and feet afterward.” 

“... Fine… remember to use the lotion as well.” 

“Of course.” 

There was no reason to be nervous even as your due date grew closer and closer. A room at the Bimarstan has already been reserved. He had already prepared a hospital bag with extra clothes, blankets, and toiletries. Alhaitham also packed some books in there was well. However, as you began to count down the days, it’s hard not to notice the anticipation in the air. You were very much ready to meet your child and to finally not be pregnant anymore. 

“Do you think the child will be more like you or me?” You turned to face your husband as he lay in bed. 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.” Alhaitham tucks a quilt from the nest up to your chin. 

“Oh? I think that if our child looks like you but has my personality, they’d be quite popular.” You pondered out loud. 

“Mm.” Alhaitham pulls you closer to him from behind, resting his chin atop your head. 

“Then if they resemble you, it's best that they have my personality. Lest our peaceful lives will be disrupted by a constant stream of suitors at the door.” He entertains your musing. 

Your soft giggle jingles through the air as you stroked your belly, his hands soon join yours. A comfortable silence encapsulated the two of you, his soft caresses lulling your heavy lids closed. This was the sweet calm lull of normalcy, and you both were satisfied. 

Alhaitham had closed his eyes, only for them to snap open with the sudden jolt of your body. Did the baby kick again? They sure are disruptive, he can already feel the long sleepless nights to come. However, there were still a few days to stock up on as much rest as possible. 

“Haitham, I think my water broke.” 

Nevermind. 

–

 You were holding onto his hand with an iron-clad grip, crushing his fingers together. However, he knew this was barely scratching the surface of the discomfort you were currently experiencing. If he could, Alhaitham would bare all your pain himself. 

However, he couldn’t so he’ll sit beside you in the Bimarstan, brushing the hair out of your sweat-socked face and whispering sweet nothings to encourage your efforts. You’ve been in labor now for about four hours. Alhaitham has decided that the first thing your child learns to write will be a thank you letter addressed to you. 

You were trying to keep your breathing as stable as possible, practicing the technique the midwife taught you. Put the pain of the contractions always broke your streak, making you have to start from the beginning to try and steady your breath. The midwives and doctors were encouraging you to push as hard as you could. You already were, but you took a deep breath and then held onto it. Giving it your all. 

--

“WWAAHHHHH!” 

A loud, piercing, yet beautiful cry echoed off the walls. 

“It's a boy!” The doctors announced. 

--

“He’s got quite the set of lungs.” You giggled, tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes. Cradling your newborn. 

Alhaitham only let out a gentle hum, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes at his son. Eyes as soft as the little one’s plump cheeks. It was quite a riveting experience, how can one fall in love with a little stranger so quickly? 

“No more full nights rest for us when we return home, huh.” You rested your head on top of his ashen hair, smiling as you continued to stare at your little bundle. 

Your husband lets out a soft mixture of a hum and a chuckle. He’s already prepared himself to sacrifice sleep in order to nurture this little bond created between the two of you. 

To your surprise and his great delight, your child sleeps through the nights well. A little too well. You had been released from the Bimarstan just a few days ago, the doctors all said your child was healthy. However, you couldn’t help but stare at him as if you were in a trance. 

“Come to bed, your body needs the rest to heal.” His warm touch grasped the sides of your shoulders, as Alhaitham pressed his face into your neck. Trying to lure you back. 

“Yes, I know but… just a little while longer.” You reached a hand up to tussle through his soft locks. 

Your eyes never stopped observing the small ups and downs of your little bundle of joy as he slept. Well, the face he made earlier when you had woken him up for his regular feedings sure wasn’t one of joy. He’s just like his father, grumpy when disturbed from the sweet embrace of sleep. But he needed to feed every three hours if he was to grow up healthily. 

“He’s quite a lot like you. A deep sleeper.”

“Oh? I think he’s quite like you, Haitham. You should’ve seen the mean mug he gave me.”

“I never scowl at you.”

“Yes, but you’re grumpy when woken up.”

“Hmph.” Your husband buries his face deeper into your nape. Teal eyes never breaking their gaze from the child you’ve gifted him. 

The air was quiet, yet warm and sweet. It was well past your preferred bedtime, but strangely not a single muscle felt tired as two pairs of eyes continued to study the small moments of his chest. 

“Should we head to bed now, Haitham?”

“Mm, perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t make a drastic difference.” 

Fin~