#the way that I would never be a significant others secretary

[barnacles34]

Steamy Mornings and Massages (Winter x Male OC)

7k words

Tags: smut, fluff, office sex, office massage, soulmates, romance, very love-heavy

Chapter 1: The Day After

"Let's just stay here," Minjeong murmured, pressing soft kisses to the crown of Junho's head. The morning alarm had shattered what his typically precise mind had categorized as Optimal Comfort Configuration™, but neither of them had moved to silence it[1].

His face remained buried in the crook of her neck, accepting what his mind reluctantly acknowledged as the only form of comfort he'd ever truly wanted. "Well, my secretary," he rumbled against her skin, the possessive pronoun carrying new weight in the morning light, "on a very important day, doesn't want to go to work?" Despite his words, his arms tightened incrementally around her waist, betraying his own reluctance.

Minjeong's embrace constricted in response, her Busan accent thick with morning warmth. "What are you going to do? Fire me?" Despite the implied challenge, she still continued to press soft kisses on his forehead. He tightened his embrace further, relishing in the warmth of Minjeong.

The challenge in her voice activated something primal in his executive functioning. His teeth grazed her neck in warning, hovering over precisely the spot that would make any low-necked blouse useless to wear for the following days. "Maybe," he murmured, his hand sliding to the small of her back with deliberate intent, dangerously close to the curve of her backside, "I'll fire you and keep you here, all day long, so that you belong only to me."

"That's..." her breath hitched as his hand dropped lower, "...rather unprofessional of you."

He lifted his head just enough to fix her with that boardroom stare that never failed to make her pulse race. "Says the woman currently preventing her CEO from attending his meetings." Her CEO? Something warm raced inside of her—she thought, her ceo? And this time, she wrapped her arms tighter—however much her thin arms could tighten; nevertheless, an affectionate hug.

"I prefer to think of it as optimizing your morning routine," she countered, though her professional efficiency was somewhat undermined by the way she melted under his touch, furthermore when he traced the curves of her backside. "Some things are more important than the Zhang Corp merger."

His laugh vibrated against her throat. "Careful, Secretary Kim. That sounds dangerously close to insubordination."

"And what does the CEO do with insubordinate employees?" The question emerged soft and weaker than intended as his mouth traced a deliberate path along her collar, trying her most obnoxiously.

"That depends," he murmured, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made her breath catch. "Are they all as beautiful as you when they disobey direct orders?"

She attempted to maintain her composure, though her hands betrayed her by pulling him closer. "I wouldn't know. I've never seen you like this with other employees[2]."

"No," he agreed, suddenly serious as he raised his head to meet her gaze. "You haven't. You won't."

The intensity in his eyes made her throat tight. "Promise?"

Instead of answering, he caught her mouth in a kiss that effectively ended all discussion of work protocols and proper business conduct[3]. The morning sun painted complex equations of light across their entangled forms, but for once, neither of them was counting the minutes.

—

[1] The first recorded instance of CEO Kim's morning alarm continuing past its initial 0.3-second alert phase, a fact that would require significant updates to the home automation system's behavioral prediction models.

[2] The security system's emotion recognition protocols flagged this moment for what its algorithms could only classify as "Unprecedented Display of Executive Vulnerability."

[3] Later analysis would suggest that certain forms of insubordination yielded surprisingly positive results in terms of overall company morale, though these findings were kept strictly off the official record.

—

"You haven't eaten properly in days," Minjeong observed softly, her fingers tracing the subtle tension in his shoulders that most wouldn't notice. But she wasn't most people—she'd spent months learning to read the microscopic signs of his stress levels[4].

"I've been eating," he defended, though his attempt at authority was somewhat undermined by the way he instinctively relaxed under her touch.

"Coffee and quarterly reports don't count as meals," she countered, continuing her gentle exploration of his shoulder muscles. "I've watched you skip lunch three times this week alone."

He lifted his head to study her face, finding that mix of strength and tenderness that had first undone him. "You keep track of my meals?"

"I keep track of everything about you," she admitted, not backing down from his intense gaze. "Someone has to notice when you forget to take care of yourself."

His hand curved around the nape of her neck, thumb brushing her pulse point. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"

"Consider it an extension of my secretarial duties," she murmured, then gasped softly as he tightened his grip in warning.

"There's nothing secretarial about the way you take care of me," he corrected, voice low and dangerous. "Is there, Minjeong-ah?"

The informal address, rarely used, made her breath catch. "No," she agreed quietly. "There isn't."

He studied her for a long moment, his analytical mind cataloging the flush in her cheeks, the slight quickening of her breath, the way she yielded to his touch while somehow maintaining that core of quiet strength[5]. "You're dangerous," he finally said, “dangerously beautiful, so beautiful,” then a kiss on the side of her neck which, eventually, will turn into a hickey and Minjeong hadn’t the power to resist her CEO’s advances anymore.

"Me?" She replied, out of breath, tremored, brilliantly transformed by her smile—the type of smile men fight wars for, the type of smile sinewy sociopathic CEOs would drop down for. "I'm just trying to make sure Korea's most brilliant CEO—I mean, my CEO, remembers to eat breakfast." Her small hand collected the waves of his hair, the aroma of the shampoo she recommended wafted in the air.

“Minjeong, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Is that a problem?” She pulled back her hand along his scalp, gathering hair, then trailing all down his nape, to his back: the type of affection that says, even if you were insane, I’d still be crazy about you.

Instead of answering directly, he pressed his lips to her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth—a calculated sequence of kisses that made her melt further into his embrace. "The only problem," he murmured against her skin, "is that you're making it very difficult to want to leave this bed."

—

[4] Her observation logs, never shared but meticulously maintained, included such details as the precise angle of his jaw when overwhelmed, the subtle shift in his typing rhythm when stressed, and the exact tone of voice that meant he'd skipped meals.

[5] The home automation system's behavioral analysis protocols struggled to categorize this new dynamic, where authority and surrender seemed to flow both ways simultaneously.

—

"Three days," Minjeong continued, her fingers finding the knots in his shoulders with practiced ease. "You've had that tension here since the Singapore deal started falling apart." The morning light caught the subtle furrow in his brow as he processed her words, realizing she'd been tracking his stress levels without him noticing. Her touch was methodical yet tender, each pressure point targeted with the same precision she applied to his scheduling.

"I didn't think anyone had noticed," he admitted, then caught her knowing smile. "Except you."

"I always notice," she replied simply. "Like how you've been drinking twice your usual coffee intake, or how your left eye twitches slightly when the board sends those passive-aggressive emails." Her hands moved lower, finding another point of tension. "You hide it well, but not from me."

He caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips. "It becomes…oddly weird when I see you do the things I usually do." The tease in his voice was softened by the way he pressed kisses to her fingertips.

"Consider it preventive maintenance," she countered, not backing down despite Junho trying to hide his habits under the rug, not backing down despite the heat in his gaze. "Someone needs to monitor your functionality levels[6]."

"Functionality levels?" His laugh rumbled against her skin as he shifted to hover over her. "Is that what we're calling this?"

"Would you prefer 'executive performance metrics'?" She managed to keep her voice steady even as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "I have spreadsheets..."

"Of course you do," he murmured, teeth grazing her collarbone in retaliation. "My perfectly thorough secretary, tracking every detail."

"Not just details," she breathed, hands sliding up his chest. "I know when you skip lunch to avoid the board members. When you stay late reviewing reports that could wait until morning. When you need..." she paused as his hand curved possessively around her hip, "...someone to remind you that you're human."

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Junho lifted his head to study her face, finding that unique blend of submission and strength that had first undone his carefully constructed defenses[7]. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"

"Someone has to." Her smile carried traces of Busan sunshine. "Besides, I'm uniquely qualified."

"How so, Minjeong-ah?” Another tease. 

“Because you love me.” Minjeong stated, matter of factly. And this time, Junho seized her tight, trapping her under him, seizing her two thin wrists. Then, pressed a deep kiss onto Minjeong’s delicate lips. After a while, he released himself from the kiss, the kiss that Minjeong reluctantly let go of—her lips pointing outwards like a duck as he left. Finally, he said, “That’s right, I love you.”

Her stomach stirred with butterflies and more.

—

[6] Her personal files, never shared but meticulously maintained, included detailed protocols for managing various levels of CEO stress responses, from subtle intervention to direct action.

[7] The exact moment of this defensive breach had been logged by the building's security systems, though the footage was classified under "Executive Privacy Protocols."

—

Minjeong lingered in bed, her heart performing calculations that had nothing to do with quarterly reports. The smart home system's sensors detected her elevated pulse rate, though no algorithm could properly quantify the joy radiating from her smile[8]. She stretched luxuriously against Egyptian cotton sheets that still held traces of his warmth, letting herself marvel at the reality of being here, in his space, surrounded by evidence of Junho.

Her mind couldn't help but catalog the endearing chaos around her—academic journals scattered across surfaces, a tablet displaying economic projections that had clearly been reviewed at 3 AM, several coffee cups in various states of abandonment. The morning light revealed what darkness and desire had hidden the night before: Junho's private space was a fascinating contradiction to his public persona, a detail she filed away with all her other precious observations of him.

Rising with practiced grace, she padded across cold hardwood floors, her bare feet gliding across the floor. His dress shirt from the previous night—the one that had hung open as they'd discovered more interesting uses for his mahogany desk—called to her like a siren song. She slipped it on, the fabric carrying traces of his unisex cologne and something uniquely him that made her stomach flutter[9].

Junho emerged from his ensuite bathroom to find her like this: drowning in his shirt, examining his space with that careful attention she brought to everything concerning him. His breath caught audibly.

"That's mine," he noted, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that never failed to make her pulse race.

She turned to face him, letting the hem of his shirt brush against her thighs. "Really? I think it’s mine."

—

[8] The home automation system logged this moment as: "Secondary User Biometrics Indicating Unprecedented Levels of Serotonin. CEO Response: Highly Favorable."

[9] Security footage would later reveal this as the exact moment CEO Kim's usually impeccable morning routine experienced a critical efficiency failure, though no one questioned why that particular shirt never made it to the dry cleaners.

—

"You know," Junho mused against her neck, his hands tracing idle patterns on her thighs, "for someone so concerned about my eating habits, you're being very distracting in my kitchen."

"Me?" Minjeong's attempt at innocence was undermined by the way her fingers kept playing with his hair. "I'm trying to feed you."

"Wearing my shirt. Sitting on my counter." His smile carried equal parts mischief and heat as he pulled back to look at her. "I'm starting to think this is corporate sabotage, Secretary Kim."

She tried to maintain her professional expression, though her lips twitched. "I would never compromise company productivity, 사장님."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, fingers sliding deliberately higher under his shirt. "Then explain why Korea's most efficient CEO is currently contemplating skipping his 9 AM."

"Poor executive guidance?" she suggested, then squeaked as he nipped her earlobe in retaliation. "I mean... clearly you need better supervision."

"Is that your professional opinion?" His laugh was warm against her skin. "And I suppose you're volunteering for the position?"

"Well," she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently, "I do have extensive experience in handling difficult executives."

He lifted his head, eyes dancing. "Difficult?"

"Demanding," she amended, then added with deliberate sweetness, "High-maintenance?"

"You," he declared, catching her wrists and pinning them behind her back with one hand, "are getting dangerously bold with your performance reviews[12]."

Her answering smile was pure sunshine. "Does that mean I'm not getting that raise?"

"Oh, I'll give you a raise," he promised, his free hand sliding up her spine as he pressed closer. "Right after we discuss your insubordination."

"I have a presentation prepared," she managed, though her breath hitched as his mouth found that sensitive spot behind her ear. "Complete with charts on CEO stubbornness metrics..."

"Using company resources for personal research?" His mock disapproval was somewhat undermined by the way he couldn't stop smiling against her skin. "That's a serious violation of corporate policy."

"And what's the penalty for that?" She arched into his touch, shameless. "More overtime with my boss?"

"Definitely." He captured her mouth in a kiss that tasted like laughter and promise. "Starting now[13]."

—

[12] The home automation system registered this interaction as a significant deviation from standard performance review protocols, though it noted remarkable improvements in overall satisfaction metrics.

[13] Later analysis of the kitchen's usage patterns would reveal this as the morning the coffee maker recorded its latest ever first brew, a delay that would become surprisingly routine.

—

"We're going to be late," Minjeong observed, though she made no move to leave her perch on the counter as Junho's hands mapped new territories beneath his borrowed shirt. The morning sun painted gold across his shoulders, and she couldn't resist tracing the light with her fingers.

"Concerned about punctuality now?" His smile was wicked against her collar. "After deliberately sabotaging your CEO's morning routine?"

"I would never," she protested, then gasped as his teeth found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I'm simply... optimizing your schedule."

"Is that what we're calling it?" His laugh vibrated through both their bodies as he pressed closer, effectively trapping her against the granite. "And how does this particular optimization benefit the company?"

Her fingers curled into his hair as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "Improved executive mood... increased satisfaction metrics... better work-life balance..."

"Very thorough analysis," he approved, his hand sliding higher up her thigh. "Though I think we need more data points[14]."

"준호야..." Her professional composure cracked entirely as his fingers found bare skin. "The Zhang Corp meeting..."

"Can wait." He lifted his head to meet her gaze, his smile carrying that perfect blend of authority and affection that never failed to undo her. "I'm conducting important research."

"On what?" She managed to arch an eyebrow despite her rapidly dissolving coherence. "How to make your secretary lose her mind?"

"Girlfriend," he corrected, voice dropping to that dangerous register as his thumb traced patterns on her inner thigh. "And I believe we were discussing your performance review[15]."

Jun abruptly stopped their performance review midway because the deal was on the line and time was running short. Minjeong was reminded of this painfully by how Jun pulled away from the kiss—she was pouty about it until they reached the office, when her damascus-like resolve kicks in.

—

[14] The kitchen's environmental sensors registered multiple instances of what could only be classified as "Critical Protocol Deviations," though these readings were automatically archived under "Executive Privacy Settings."

[15] HR would later note a curious correlation between the CEO's improved mood and these new "morning performance evaluations," though no one dared to investigate further.

—

Chapter 2: The Meeting

The Zhang Corp representatives sat across the mahogany conference table, their expressions carefully neutral as they reviewed the merger proposals. Minjeong maintained her perfect professional facade, though her pulse quickened every time Junho's hand brushed hers as she passed him documents[1].

"The third quarter projections," she murmured, leaning close enough that his cologne made her thoughts stray to their morning activities. His finger tapped twice against the paper—their private signal that he needed a moment to compose himself.

"As you can see," Junho addressed the room with that commanding presence that made board members squirm, though Minjeong could detect the slight roughness in his voice that hadn't been there before their morning 'delay', "our integration timeline is aggressive but achievable."

She took her seat beside him, crossing her legs in a way that made his pen pause fractionally on the contract. Two could play at this game of professional torture. His response was to rest his hand on her thigh under the table, hidden from view but commanding enough to make her breath catch[2].

"Secretary Kim," he said smoothly, his thumb tracing dangerous patterns against her skin, "would you pull up the logistics breakdown?"

"Of course, 사장님." She managed to keep her voice steady as she reached for her tablet, though her free hand found his wrist under the table, her fingers curling around it in what could have been either submission or warning.

The meeting proceeded with perfect corporate efficiency, though the undercurrent of tension between CEO and secretary created what the room's environmental sensors could only classify as "Critical Atmospheric Pressure"[3].

—

[1] The conference room's biometric scanners noted elevated heart rates in both CEO and secretary, though this data was diplomatically omitted from official meeting records.

[2] Security footage would later require careful editing to maintain professional appearances, particularly regarding certain "under-table activities."

[3] The Zhang Corp representatives would later confess to the fact that they could tell what was happening, no amount of demure leg-crossing could hide it. Though, they ignored it in order to get that deal (which was integral to them).

—

The private office door clicked shut behind them, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across imported marble floors. Junho rolled his shoulders, tension evident in his posture despite the meeting's success[4].

"Come here," Minjeong said softly, recognizing the signs of his post-negotiation stress. She guided him to his leather chair, her hands already moving to his shoulders. "You get so tense during these meetings." Instead of standing behind him and the chair, she stood in front, impending a mount to get ‘better access’ to his shoulders.

"Keeping my hands to myself requires considerable effort," he admitted, then groaned softly as her fingers found a particularly tight knot. "Especially when you keep giving me those looks."

"What looks?" Her innocent tone was betrayed by the way her hands slid lower, tracing patterns down his upper chest. "I was being perfectly professional."

He caught her wrist, tugging her to face him. "Professional? Is that what you call that thing you did with your pen?"

"Taking notes?" She smiled down at him, letting her fingers trail along his tie. "I'm very thorough in my documentation."

"Very thorough," he agreed, pulling her into his lap with practiced ease. "Though I noticed some interesting gaps in the meeting minutes."

"Oh?" Her hands returned to his shoulders, kneading the tension even as she shifted closer. "Like what?"

"Like how many times you deliberately brushed against me," his voice dropped lower as her fingers worked their magic, "or how your skirt kept riding up when you reached for files[5]."

"Maybe," she breathed, her ministrations becoming less therapeutic and more intentional, "your secretary just needs better supervision."

His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Is that what you need, Secretary Kim?"

Instead of answering, she pressed a kiss to that spot below his ear that always made him growl. His hands tightened on her hips in warning, but she didn't stop her exploration of his neck, her fingers still working the tension from his shoulders even as she created a different kind of pressure entirely.

"The door," he managed, though his hands were already sliding under her blouse.

"Locked," she murmured against his skin. "I'm very efficient."

"My perfect secretary," he agreed.

—

[4] The office's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Post-Meeting Stress Relief Protocol: Executive Override Engaged."

[5] The meeting's official minutes would maintain strict professional standards, though certain observations were kept in much more private records.

—

"You're still tense," Minjeong observed, her fingers tracing new patterns down his spine. The afternoon light painted gold across his desk, where various merger documents lay forgotten. "Let me take care of you properly."

She slid from his lap, moving behind his chair with practiced grace. Her hands returned to his shoulders, this time with more purposeful intent. Junho's head fell back as she worked a particularly tight knot, a sound escaping him that had nothing to do with professional conduct[7].

"That noise," she murmured, leaning close enough that her breath teased his ear, "is definitely not going in the meeting minutes."

His laugh turned into another groan as her thumbs hit a sensitive spot. "Keeping secrets from the board, Secretary Kim?"

"Only the interesting ones," she admitted, her hands sliding lower, tracing the muscles of his back through his expensive shirt. "Like how my very commanding CEO turns to putty when I do this..."

His hand shot up to catch her wrist in warning. "Careful," his voice carried that dangerous edge that made her stomach flip. "You're getting bold with your observations."

"Just maintaining detailed records," she breathed, not backing down despite his grip. "For example, when I press here..." Her free hand found another knot, making him inhale sharply. "Your left eye twitches slightly. And when I do this..." She leaned forward, letting her lips brush his neck. "Your pulse jumps exactly like it did during the merger talks[8]."

The chair spun suddenly, Junho pulling her back into his lap with decisive force. "You," he growled, hands spanning her waist, "are playing a dangerous game."

Her smile was pure innocence, though her fingers were already working his tie loose. "I'm simply being thorough in my duties, 사장님."

"Your duties," he repeated, watching her with dark amusement as she stripped his tie with expert efficiency. "Is that what we're calling this?"

"Would you prefer 'executive stress relief'?" She gasped as his teeth found her collar. "Or maybe 'personnel management'?"

His laugh vibrated against her skin. "I prefer," he murmured, hands sliding deliberately up her thighs, "when you stop talking altogether[9]."

—

[7] The office's audio sensors temporarily malfunctioned during this period, a technical glitch that occurred with suspicious regularity during certain "private meetings."

[8] Her personal files contained extensive documentation of CEO behavioral patterns, though certain observations were encrypted under "Private Research: Ongoing."

[9] The afternoon's remaining meetings would require creative rescheduling, though no one questioned why the CEO's mood had improved so dramatically.

—

"You missed a spot," Minjeong murmured against his mouth, her fingers finding another knot of tension in his shoulders even as she shifted closer in his lap. The leather chair creaked softly beneath them, a sound that would forever carry new associations in both their minds[10].

"Did I?" His hands slid higher beneath her skirt, mapping territories that were becoming dangerously familiar for office hours. "Or are you just making excuses to keep touching your CEO?"

She pulled back just enough to give him that look—the one that somehow managed to be both defiant and yielding. "I take my responsibilities very seriously, 사장님."

"I've noticed," he growled, catching her wrist as she tried to maintain the pretense of massage. "Like how seriously you took those meeting notes earlier. Very... thorough."

Her laugh caught in her throat as his lips found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I was documenting important observations."

"Such as?" His teeth grazed her pulse point, making her grip his shoulders for balance.

"Such as," she managed, though her professional tone wavered as his hands grew bolder, "how the great Kim Junho gets distracted when I cross my legs. How your voice drops exactly half an octave when you're trying not to react to me. How you tap your pen twice when you're thinking about—"

He silenced her with a kiss that effectively derailed all attempts at analysis[11]. When he finally pulled back, her dazed expression made him smirk. "Any other observations to record, Secretary Kim?"

“I must’ve forgotten, I usually remember better when you kiss me.” She hinted, and he obliged, letting his lips connect yet again with Minjeong. This time, the endless teasing reached a breaking point that both of them coalesced to at the same time.

He tightly grasped her backside then pulled her up from the executive chair to the executive table. Wherein, she was splayed across the wide table. “We really have to ban tables when we’re around each other.” She joked. 

“That’d be a terrible idea.”

“How so?”

“Where else could I splay you across like this, then explore you, centimeter-by-centimeter?”

“Hmm…” she hummed, pleased, "Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“Then come here, my ceo.”

“My beautiful secretary, whatever shall I do with you?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you find out?” She pulled as tight as she could, locking her arms around his neck.

He obliged, meeting lips with her once again. He felt the softness of her face as he explored deeper into the kiss, forgetting time and everything except what was being shared between them. Journeying his hands further, entangling it into the silken strands of his lover as he deepened the kiss, and she replied with a deep sigh—trembling with a mix of her high register. 

“You’re such a good woman for me, Minjeong.” He said before nipping at her lower lip, catching it softly between his teeth with a teasing tug, Minjeong let out a breathless laugh, “you’re devouring me, Junho.” Regardless, he dug deeper, letting his entire body shift into Minjeong’s malleable, petite body—letting his hand explore more of her silken strands, almost saying, yes Minjeong, that is my purpose: to devour you.

Now, instead of every 5 seconds, Minjeong’s soft moans that only served to goad Junho on were musically released into his ears every second. Precautiously, she asked, “how good is the soundproofing in your private room-ah!”

“Not good enough to hide your moans, dear.” He replied, his voice like rough gravel. Her eyes widened suddenly from the need to hide her moans. Yet he dug deeper, letting his loin rub against her wet bottom, daring her moan out loud.

Despite all the regulations, the possible condemnation, their passions only grew more. Mouths moving in sync, gazes meeting momentarily, it wasn’t just kissing anymore—it was a language. The type of language where Minjeong coalesced to his dangerous games and learned to enjoy it, almost as much as him.

“Junho, seriously, I don’t want to be seen as-”

“Minjeong-ah, I don’t give a single fuck if my employees hear you and I.” The teeth that so brazenly tugged on her lower lips trailed down her neck, tracing the soft tendons.

Whispering, in a verbose way, “And as you are my secretary, my extension, my life-line, you’ll follow. Me.” And as Minjeong was getting battered by the gravel-slung voice of Junho—she hadn’t noticed how her blouse was opened, bra pushed down to reveal the breasts that he was so infatuated with—only until she felt the torsion of her nipple.

“Ngh!”

“I love that, Minjeong, scream out. I’ll fuck you until the entire floor hears you call my name.”

And another wet mewl that inspired his further deviance.

Feeling the soft suction of his mouth on her neck, she deduced that it could only mean one thing: another hickey just placed above the collar of her blouse, the same sort of hickey that the Zhang corp executives couldn’t keep their eyes off of—any justification in their minds that it was a skin discoloration was debilitated by how intensely Minjeong and Junho shared those deadly glances, likely to jump on each other as soon as they left—and they were right.

“Junho—ngh!”

“Louder.” He replied, testing her, “fucking. Louder.” Then he pressed deeper, grinding his rough textured pants on the creamy soft bottom of Minjeong.

“Please Junho, seriously.” Was all that she could get out of her bated breaths, her deep moans.

Then suddenly, he stopped, caressing the softness of her cheeks with his, back-handed, knuckles.

“You look so beautiful when you’re all tired and exhausted, did I tell you that before?” Letting the tune of his voice marinate with Minjeong (who was recovering from how hot and bothered she was just a second ago).

However good his intentions were, he wasn’t perfect. The way Minjeong’s body looked splayed against the messy paperwork, her blonde hair all frizzy and stuck to the desk, how her chest went in-and-out catching all the breath she lost—all of it made it impossible for him to resist anymore.

He pounced on her again, connecting lips against her wet, trembling lips that nonetheless accepted him so openly, like a warm cup of milk tea on a winter morning. That momentary pause had changed everything, Minjeong—now fully conquered by him—was begging for that penetrative action that he would give out so liberally to her.

“Naughty woman, bad secretary, what else?”

“Junho’s toy.” 

“Fuck.” And in a flash, his belt flew off, then in another flash, his pants fell down. 

“Tented much?” She was truly in no position to tease: a strategic error.

He grinned at the statement, finally, teasingly, let his underwear fall inch-by-inch. 

Simultaneously, she bunched up her legs then pulled off her panty that revealed the color combinations that he would die for. Though before he could look for longer, she crossed her shins—hiding the cause of Junho’s demise behind her thin legs.

They shared a giggle before Jun hugged her soft body.

“I will penetrate you in this office.”

“Yes. It appears so.”

“No, like, do you consent?”

“Idiot..” Minjeong pulled him in for another kiss. Which, coincidentally, made his tip graze her engorged and swollen core, Minjeong almost came instantaneously from that alone.

And he could tell, laughing, “Seriously, Minjeong?”

“It’s your fault, you trained me like this.”

“This is like our 3rd time.” He said, as if to brush it off.

“This is my 3rd time.” 

And Minjeong would be certainly hurt by the thought that Junho’s partners before her made it more than his 3rd time for him—some of them, the girlfriends, she saw. 

He caught on the clues before it was too late, “Minjeong, not to compare, but who else have I been so crazy about? Who else did I track for every minute of the day? Who else did I let in my home (his girlfriends didn’t, actually, get to enter his home)? Who else would make me lose composure when they’re out of my sight-line?”

Letting his forehead touch against hers, he could feel her heart rend and beat and do all sorts of bothered gymnastics.

“It’s always been about you, Minjeong. You are the brilliance of my life, the expansion of a born star—bright from millions of light years away.”

And she needn’t say anything or reply. Absolving him by wrapping her arms tighter around his nape, then holding up her head to desperately kiss Junho again and again.

In between all the kisses, he penetrated Minjeong. His length, constricted against her core, travelled softly—wringing out all sorts of noises. Her swollen pussy wrapped around him gently but tight. “I love you, Minjeong.” Was the last thing said before Minjeong’s eyes went into the back of her head—a cute habit—before she orgasmed and creamed all over.

As per her request, Junho didn’t stop. He let his hips move as slow as he could possibly go before it could be called torture. During all this, Minjeong grabbed for stability as she was getting fucked through her orgasm, feeling that intense thrusting from the love of her life as she covered his length in more of her slick.

“Oh f-” He covered her mouth this time, respecting her wish to stay at least a little lowkey in the office, whatever the hell that meant right now. Then, shallow thrusts turned into slow thrusts all the way to the hilt, getting Minjeong to scrunch her face in pleasure, eyebrows knitted in the highest pleasure, her mouth agape with strands of her saliva connecting the roof of her mouth to her tongue.

“I love you, Minjeong. Fuck. This is insane, having sex with you in my office.”

“Ngh~ I - I love you so much,” was all that she could get across before succumbing to her dopamine receptors—eyes joining the back her head. Junho connected lips with her again, letting her legs lock around his waist, then rubbing his pelvis against her engorged core, clitoris and all.

After Minjeong finally got used to the familiar motions, he grasped her thin waist, almost wrapping his two hands around the entire circumference of her tight waist. Then their eyes met momentarily, Junho had the I am going to fuck you through this desk eyes whilst Minjeong had the prey eyes that relentlessly coalesced to him. Though, before he could go wild, he brushed off the stray hairs stuck to her forehead, gave a reaffirming kiss on her forehead before pumping all the way in.

The small of her back surrendered to his tight grip, bending against the pushes and pulls. Her legs tightened the lock around his waist—almost painfully tight, but that didn’t matter to him, who’d get to pummel her soft pussy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he planted his body against Minjeong’s, pinning her two thin wrists against the stable table.

“You’re fucking me so good, Junho,” Minjeong replied, her rare use of the curse made him chuckle by the side of her head. 

“That’s right, baby,” Junho bear-hugged Minjeong, only thrusting deeper and deeper, pelvis rubbing against hers, to make her cum again.

“NGHHH~!” The abrupt moan startled him and herself—however, they didn’t care as much about the employees anymore after indulging in each other’s bodies. Instead of stopping or evaluating the situation—as the rationalists would do—they dug deeper into each other, trying to carve each other with their soft and swollen lips.

Suddenly, he lifted Winter and turned her over. Bending her back against the table before dipping his cock into her pussy again. This time, the entrance was entranced with the soft, tight, wet feeling that he was fully obsessed with. This time, he had more ready access to her soft ass that was so soft and supple that he had to relieve it of its aesthetic beauty: with some redness spread across her ass.

“Oh my god!” Winter squeaked as she reacted against the heavy-handed slap against her ass, loving it, spreading—overflowing—his length with her slick.

Leaning over, he held Minjeong’s chin for the last stretch, considerably slowing down and enjoying each other’s presence.

“How much do you bet the coworkers will give us bad looks?”

“The female workers already give me horrible ones.” She said whilst her chin was held stable by his hand, still moaning against the soft thrusts.

“Hmm, broad generalization. How do you know this?”

“That hickey that you gave that was far too purple and far too above the collar of my blouse.”

“No long-necked turtleneck?”

“No, that’d ruin the point, I wanted to show off the gift my Junho-ssi gave.” That was the moment when he moaned hard, pressing deep inside Winter before releasing all his seed—the seed that Winter felt bounce against her cervix, making her moan out and squeal happily.

“God. Minjeong, you will be my demise.” He sighed before Winter turned around and kissed him, “as long as I get to stay with you, through demise and all,” she said between the kisses.

—

[10] The office furniture procurement department would later note an unusual request for "enhanced stability features" in executive seating, though they wisely chose not to inquire further.

[11] The building's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Critical Temperature Fluctuation - Executive Override Protocol Engaged."

—

Evening painted Seoul's skyline in shades of amber and gold, the office gradually emptying as another corporate day drew to a close. Only the executive floor maintained signs of life, though its usual efficiency had given way to something far more intimate[12].

"We should go home," Minjeong murmured against Junho's shoulder, though she made no move to leave her position in his lap. His shirt had long since been unbuttoned, her blouse delightfully rumpled, both their professional facades thoroughly compromised.

"Should we?" His fingers traced lazy patterns up her spine, his other hand still possessively curved around her hip. "I rather like having my secretary exactly where she is."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, finding that unique blend of authority and affection that never failed to make her heart race. "Your secretary has plans for you."

"Oh?" His interest visibly peaked. "More performance reviews?"

"Better." She smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm cooking you dinner. Besides, breakfast was skipped."

The surprise in his expression made her laugh softly. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," she interrupted, then added with deliberate sweetness, "Unless my CEO is refusing a direct offer from his girlfriend?"

His hands tightened on her waist. "Using that title to manipulate me now?"

"Is it working?" She bit her lip, watching his eyes darken at the gesture.

Instead of answering, he pulled her into a kiss that suggested dinner might be delayed[13]. When they finally broke apart, his smile carried dangerous promise. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours," she decided, fingers playing with his collar. "Your kitchen needs christening properly."

His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Just the kitchen?"

"We'll see how dinner goes," she teased, then squeaked as he stood suddenly, lifting her with him. "준호야!"

"Efficient time management," he explained, setting her on her feet but keeping her close. "The sooner we leave..."

She pressed against him, deliberate and knowing. "The sooner you can help me... cook?"

"Among other things," he agreed, already reaching for his jacket. The predatory grace in his movements suggested cooking might not be the evening's primary activity[14].

—

[12] Security logs would note this as the third consecutive evening of "Extended Executive Hours," though the actual nature of these extensions remained diplomatically unrecorded.

[13] The office's automated systems began learning to expect these end-of-day delays, adjusting power consumption accordingly.

[14] The kitchen's motion sensors would later flag unusually high activity levels, though whether any actual cooking occurred remained a matter of some debate.

Fin

I fixed some stuff that I executed poorly before, like the crazy amount of math references; which, in foresight, was far too much.

I really had to get this out quickly. Now, I think it's a good idea to not expect anything from me for an entire month (hopefully not).

hope u enjoyed.

[freckledsweetpea]

becoming an adult is realizing how a large portion of men skate through life relying on women to tell them what to do and where to be and never taking responsibility for themselves.

like the amount of times my dad hasn't brought something that is REQUIRED for an event in our lives and blamed my mom because she "didn't tell him to bring it" like I'm sorry but we're moving up and down STAIRS. you've already done this twice with my sister, why didn't you bring the dolly? now WE have to drive 25 minutes to go get it?

worst time was when I was a kid and we went on vacation and he packed NOTHING because he was figuring my mom would pack for him and never asked or made sure so we had to go to Walmart to buy him a week's worth of clothes.

and then you start working and realize ALL of the men in your office are exactly the same fucking way. if I don't know something, I fucking figure it out. If they don't know something they ask the women around until someone is enough of a sucker to help when they could just quickly google it.

you're playing incompetent. you're annoying.

[konfeitos]

IN HALF BROKEN JAPANESE.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤHAWKS X GN! READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring :   takami keigo aka hawks ╱ gender neutral reader

❛❛ ⠀In half broken Japanese, I wrote to you 愛してる oh 愛してる ... ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀a partial canon divergency of post-final war arc, you reunite with your lover !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes  :   dedicated to @falryllghts / @brunette-sketches ! gender-neutral reader. reader isn't from japan and is learning japanese; they're a foreign hero that has volunteered to help with the restoration efforts. established relationship. be gentle with me and my interpretation of hawks. it has been a while since I've written for him. minor spoilers for chapters 424 & 426. not proofread. WC — 2.1k.

A week passed.

Despite the lack of villainous activity, both minor and significant, people still wait with bated breath for any horrid news to drop each morning. It’s difficult for Japan’s citizens to trust the calm that has finally arrived from the end of the war.

All you can do is hope that your presence, along with the other foreign heroes that have volunteered to be here, can help their nerves. 

The second that news spread that Japan was entering a restoration phase after the war had ended, you jumped at the chance to offer your support. A hasty decision that you probably shouldn’t have made considering you had an entire agency to run, but you had full trust in your staff and sidekicks to hold down the fort without you there.

Honestly, you can’t even recall how long you rattled off to your poor secretary on how long you’d be away to come out and help.

That’s definitely something you should be spending your break on to properly discuss with your agency on when you’ll be returning. 

But instead, you started wandering off from the district you were assigned to, flashing polite, albeit awkward, smiles at any heroes you made eye contact with and hoping none of them tried to initiate a conversation. Even with the micro-translator devices that everyone was provided with—which were built by that one support course student from Japan’s number one hero academy—you still hesitated to converse with them unless it was absolutely necessary. 

There was a chance that you could’ve been given the one faulty translator.

And what if you only found out once someone tried to talk to you?

What if it malfunctioned and was set to translate to a different language other than your native tongue?

What if—

Your eyes immediately land on Keigo once you step foot into the district he’s overseeing, cutting your thoughts short.

Finding him in a crowd of people has never been a challenge for you. Your gaze never fails to gravitate towards where he stands like he’s a beacon that calls out solely to you. 

From a single glance, Keigo looks as carefree as he normally does as he watches everyone. 

However, in your eyes, you can easily piece together from his stance that he’s more lost in thought than he probably thinks he is. And the more you inch closer to where he’s perched, the more you can confirm your suspicions.

You note the tension in his stance as he’s somewhat hunched over like he’s actively thinking about the loss of weight on his back. (Which he probably is. His sense of balance has been a recent struggle from what he has told you before you arrived in Japan. He has shared some instances of losing his balance here and there. These stories have always been accompanied by his laughter while you would just sit there and think how you’d help him steady himself whenever he felt off balance.)

The wind starts to pick up a bit; it’s a gentle breeze that’s enough to make you aware of its presence and stir memories in Keigo’s mind judging from the way his gaze grows distant.

His hair, now tousled by the wind, dances around his face. 

If you focus solely on his face, this would seem like one of the many pictures you’ve seen captured of him in the middle of flying that would appear on your timelines. 

You wonder if to Keigo whether this serves more like a stark reminder of the freedom he once took for granted. 

Keigo’s body instinctively shifts forwards almost as if trying to follow after the direction the wind blows in from where he is to the best of his ability. There’s the faintest hint of a bittersweet smile that rises to his lips as he glances up at the sky that remains just out of reach. 

As much as you enjoy staring at your lover, you feel like it’s best to make yourself known than continue staring and getting caught.

The unfocused state of his gaze clears up at the sound of you clearing your throat. Just as quick as his former flying speed, his eyes shift over to you. In an instant, his pupils dilate at the mere sight of you and warmth blossoms from his stare.

One of his hands reaches up to tap the micro-translator device in his ear, presumably to turn off, and you find yourself mirroring his action. After all, he’s the only one you’re actually able to hold a conversation with due to Keigo’s fluency in your native tongue.

“What brings you over here, sunshine? Miss me?”

No longer does a bittersweet smile rest on his face. A wider, affectionate grin replaces it with ease while he steps away from his post to approach you.

Your immediate thought is to deny it. 

Except you know very well how that interaction would play out, and being called out by Keigo isn’t entirely something you wish to go through right now.

Yet, admitting to missing him felt a bit too much. Knowing yourself, you may sound more vulnerable than you would like. All your worry and concern may leak out the moment you utter a single word.

Which is also something you don’t wish to go through right now.

Not yet at the very least. Not when you’re both in the middle of helping out with the Restoration Efforts.

The lack of a quick and witty response from you seems to catch his attention since he moves closer. With a gentle nudge to your side, he waits for you to meet his eyes before he nods his head to the side.

“Want to join me in getting a drink?”

He doesn’t actually wait for your answer when he starts to walk off. He’s confident in the fact that you’ll follow him no matter what, and you inwardly curse at the way your legs instantly move to catch up to him.

By the time you stand at his side, he’s sliding in a few yen coins into a vending machine. “What would you like?” Keigo asks, pushing the button for that canned coffee that he enjoys. He’s already sliding more yen coins into the machine before he looks at you.

“Oh,” You blink a couple times and examine the options in the vending machine a bit frantically. 

It’s just as you thought.

You can read none of it.

Well, there are some labels you can read, but that doesn’t exactly help you in figuring out what the drinks are exactly. 

After what feels like an eternity to you, you finally sputter out a sheepish, “Uhm, water’s fine.”

There’s no way you were going to spend anymore time staring at this machine like it would magically translate itself for you. You’re sure that even if you could read the labels that you would still be fighting against your indecisiveness to make a decision.

“Alright.”

Despite his acknowledgement to your answer, Keigo pushes at a button for a different drink. Your mouth drops partly open before you lightly smack his arm when he bends down to collect both drinks. 

“What—hey! I said that water's fine. You didn’t have to get me something else.” 

“I know,” Keigo offers nothing more than a smile and shrug, “But I can tell you’ve been working hard today, and you should hydrate with more than just water. Besides, I think you’ll like this.” He holds up the drink, shaking it lightly to draw your attention towards it. “It tastes the same as that brand you like back at your home.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that he sees past your act of being fine and not tired from how long you’ve been helping out in the district you were assigned to. Or that he remembers something as mundane as the type of drink and flavor you like and offers you something similar so you can have a sense of a familiarity while you’re out in a whole other country. 

Either way, you’re a mess.

So much of a mess that your thoughts are circling around one singular thing.

You truly, truly love Keigo.

Maybe you love him a bit too much. You’re starting to think so because you find yourself compelled to do one thing and that’s to blurt it out right then and there.

And not just in your language… but in his.

Your Japanese reading skills may be lower than beginner level, but you have been practicing speaking it. Especially a couple, certain phrases.

What’s the worst thing that can happen? He laughs at you?

Thinking about it, Keigo would laugh regardless. That idiot, you think affectionately, is always laughing around you. A habit of his that you’ve never understood. (Often you’d catch him with the corner of his eyes crinkling whenever he stares at you and starts to laugh. His sudden bursts of laughter is something he never explains but promises mean nothing bad.)

A gentle tapping against your forehead draws you away from your thoughts. You huff lightly and reach up to swat his hand away, ignoring how his chuckle makes your stomach twist into itself.

“I can see you overworking that pretty little head of yours. What’s on your mind? You can tell me, it’s just me.” Keigo says that so casually like he isn’t the most precious person in your life.

Like you don’t stay up late when you’re in your respective home country simply to receive his texts or be on video call with him. Like you didn’t just jump at the chance to head straight to Japan after hearing the news solely because one of your biggest concerns was how he was out on the battlefield during the war. 

You know yourself. 

If you don’t say it now then there’s no chance you’ll muster up the courage to say it later.

Locking eyes with Keigo, you take a deep breath and utter out a shaky, “愛してる¹.” 

The silence that follows afterwards feeds the anxious thoughts growing in your head.

Was your half broken Japanese that bad that he didn’t understand it? Or maybe he did and it was way too soon to even think about telling him that. Oh god, maybe you should have practiced more to ensure that you would have nailed the pronunciation.

“Woah,” Keigo breaks the silence, yet it hardly does a thing to calm your nerves. You spill out an ‘I love you,’ and all he does is go, ‘woah,’ and nothing else.

Before you can take back your words, he continues.

“When did you have the time to practice Japanese? I thought you were too busy worrying and fussing over me lately.”

This was a mistake.

“Forget I said anything!” Turning your head away, you can feel your cheeks growing warmer by the second. Your drink suddenly looks far more interesting than anything else around you.

Except Keigo would never let you take your eyes off him.

It doesn’t take him long to start leaning against your side. “Say it again!” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t actually mean it.” Your words elicit a boisterous laugh from him, which only causes your cheeks to flush even more.

A moment passes before he’s calming down and a more gentle looking grin settles on his face. “I think I’m going on vacation after all this.” Keigo states out of nowhere that you pause for a moment. 

Huh? Where did that come from?

Catching onto your confusion, Keigo chuckles. “I was offered to take over as the president for the HPSC.” Hearing that has you widen your eyes a bit as you vaguely recall what you did know about Japan’s HPSC. He doesn’t let you dwell too long on these thoughts with his next words. “I’m turning the offer down. That kind of responsibility just isn’t for me.”

However, Keigo doesn’t stop talking there.

“What would you say your hometown is like during this season?” 

It truly should be illegal how easily he can turn your thoughts to revolve around him and the things he says. Because now you can only think about him (which is nothing new) and at your place!

“It’s… It’s nice. Uh, yeah, you should totally come visit. If you want. I might know a place for you to stay for as long as you’re there.” 

“Really now?”

Oh, you need to wipe away that look from Keigo’s face now before you explode. 

“Or maybe you can go sleep outside for all I care.” You spat out of embarrassment, ignoring the way he breaks out into laughter yet again.

A sound you’ve heard plenty of times but never gets old to you.

“Keigo.”

“Hmm?”

“... 心を愛してる².”

“I love you too.”

愛してる ¹ — I love you 心を愛してる ² — I love your heart

[r4vn]

–LATE BLOSSOM

farleıgh x reader 【1/3】

w.c: 2,183

disclaimers: sensual tension, dilf!farleigh, secretary!reader, beginning of the good stuff be patient please!, oliver is a good person (*gasp*), companyAU!, cutesy, intro, pls dont bored im cooking guys *_*

—synopsis: you went to work expecting a normal day, when suddenly your boss tells you that you have been moved under new management in a new building. you now work right under the man who owns the company, and nearly a year in, he is still full of surprises.

a/n: hello! i was inspired by @girlboybug to write a fic on dilf!farleigh. this is the beginning but i hope you stay with me till the end! please be patient with me my summer has been (fortunately) real busy! ty so much for the support!

– part ��: here.

「divider by @/ cafekitsune」

you sort of always considered that you got a late start in life. never in academics and such, but in adulthood. you had your first kiss way later than everyone else, at 18. you got your driver license late at 20, due to your fear of driving, and you got your first flat around 22 years of age. you were now 26 and living a very, well, uneventful life. you worked at a real estate corporation for the last 3 years of your life. you worked, sometimes went to the gym afterwards, and went home.

everyone you knew were beginning their lives, getting married, having kids, or simply just moving in with their significant others. you lived in a shared apartment, with no kids, and certainly no lover. your last known boyfriend was back when you were 20. the guy was a major narcissist, who nearly liked to kiss himself in the mirror and never really treated you well. it lasted for about 6 months before you were done with him.

you would occasionally go out with your roommate, oliver. whenever the two of you had the evening off. oliver is relatively a nice guy, who had a small wild side. whenever the two of you would go out he would always outdrink you and you never could catch up with his tolerance. you loved challenging him even if you could never beat him. other than hanging out with oliver, work was practically your life.

who you worked for, was a little more interesting. about six months ago, you switched buildings under different management. it was rather very abrupt in the day. you walked into your job and sat down at your desk outside your boss's room before your then boss asked you why you were here. you were confused, before she explained that you were moved under a different building and why. that morning you quickly drove to your new workplace and practically ran through the cubicles. you finally made it to the elevator and press floor 60, the top floor, and ran down the hall in your black mary janes and short pencil skirt.

you cursed to yourself for wearing such a skirt on this day. why did this have to happen to you of all people? a sudden job switch was not on the list this morning. you finally arrived at office room 636 quickly checked the time. you were exactly 5 minutes early.

oh thank god. i can breathe..

you began to slow your breathing. suddenly, you noticed how this particular office door was auburn brown instead of black like all the other doors. your brows narrowed before finding the nameplate on the door.

" farleigh start

saltburn estates, CEO "

you gulped, darting your head to each end of the ironically empty hallway. you've only worked under general managers and supervisors, never a CEO. why were you even hired for this job? your hand grabbed the door and you pushed it open, knocking simultaneously. you wore a mostly confident smile as you finally faced your new boss.

"good morning, sir." you greeted. the male brunette looked up from his laptop and his brows immediately furrowed.

"who're you?" he asked, clearly perplexed.

"i'm– [y/n, l/n] ..your new secretary. i uh ..i was moved from a different building to fill your last one's spot after she left." you explained. farleigh subtly looked you up and down that morning before smiling gently at you.

"well hello [y/n], wonderful to meet you." your cheeks warmed, nodding at him. he seemed charming for sure.

"same to you." you looked down at your shoes, smiling to yourself. you thought he was pretty, gorgeous even. his curls were tight and defined. he had shiniest brown eyes with the longest lashes and god, his cheekbones fit him so well. the lined-up scruffiness that occupied his jaw and chin made him more intimidating. not in a bad way, but more of a mysterious and intriguing one. he wore his black on black suit very well. you dont think you've seen a more handsome man in your life.

"you like croissants?" he suddenly asked. you were taken back at the sudden random question but immediately nodded. he snapped, and pointed a finger gun at you, smiling.

"fantastic, can you grab us some croissants from the cafe block down? doesn't matter what kind you get. use the company card." you nodded and shuffled your way to the door to exit his office. you couldn't help but smile, getting a feeling that this job may be more eventful than your last.

fast forward 9 months, life ironically got just a little brighter after switching job positions. working for farleigh was the same work, essentially but somehow it felt different. you were looking forward to working nearly every shift now. farleigh's various food requests left you on the craziest goose chases around the city. from getting thai food on the west side of london to vietnamese or very specific macarons on the east.

what made these adventures more fun was due to farleigh texting you throughout your walks or drives through the city. he wanted your number to make sure you updated him on your way there, and for your safety. you never texted him outside of work, you were too afraid he would turn you down in a way, and that would be super embarrassing.

"and so you saw two pigeons break dancing on the sidewalk?" farleigh asked with a grin. you laughed, nodding in response to his question. you placed the 16-count box of assorted macarons on mr.start's desk, smiling.

"well, they sure were not playing rock-paper-scissors. so i went with the realistic decision that they were break-dancing." you grinned. a chuckle slipped past farleighs lips, causing your chest to feel warmer.

"right, [y/n]. because pigeons fighting wasn't another good answer." the brunette playfully deadpanned before laughing one last time. he eagerly opened the box of fresh macarons, grabbing a coffee flavored one. he took a bite and immediately closed his eyes in contentment. you made a mental note he always saved most of the coffee macarons for last. whether it be 2 or 6 in the 16-count, he made sure he ate one first and another last.

"talk to me about today, [y/n]." farleigh mentions. you snap out of your mental folder on your boss and open your laptop up for today's schedule.

"you have a 10:30am call with finance, a 12:00pm call with crisis management, a 2:00pm meeting with advertisement, and a 4:00pm team meeting with floor supervisors." farleigh grabs another macaron, raspberry flavored while listening.

"hmm ..let's reschedule my 2:00pm with the advertisement team tomorrow, that way i won't be completely bored with my one meeting tomorrow with janet." he suggested. janet was the chief operating officer, the COO.

"yes sir." you nod and began rescheduling the preferred meeting. he thanked you, eating the rest of the macaron in his hand. your eyes then glanced over, watching as his thumb wiped the corner of his mouth. he licked his lips, causing you to immediately look away. you felt a little flustered in the face, because anything that man did was attractive to you.

"i think for the brunch meeting on friday i move it to monday ..and ...so i can.." you vaguely listened to farleigh ramble. your boss always rambled out of anxiousness yet he did everything so calmly and smoothly. how he did it was so attractive to you. he wasn't a boy with a high position, but a man with a well-deserving job. the way he carried himself simply lured you in. you blinked away your thoughts of your boss and cleared your throat.

"siiir," you start with a singy-songy tone. "you have 10 minutes to speak to finance. floor 59." you add, chuckling as farleigh caught himself rambling. he pursed his lips together trying to both shut up and not smile. he held up his index finger to signal you to give him a a moment and then rigorously typed away at his computer. a moment passed, and the tall male slowly began standing up out of his chair as he typed.

"sir.." you press on, giggling. he playfully hushed you, finally stopped typing and closed the laptop. farleigh grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair to exit.

being mr.start's secretary has allowed you to learn to relax at work. maybe it's because you never knew the word around your last job, but farleigh would catch you stressing out before telling you to take a breather. he wasn't the most extroverted person you knew but the minimal talking you two did, you cherished. you recapped your day in your mind every evening before bed. if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was your work crush. but of course, you'd never admit that even to yourself. the two of you walk out the office together, side by side.

°°°

it was early evening and many employees were wrapping up their shift. it was a rather smooth day of talking business and building contracts.

"its getting late in the day, you sure you want to stay until i leave?" farleigh questioned, groaning as he sat back down in his own personal office chair. he was drained from speaking to several people today, but glad he could enjoy another few macarons now.

"why not? i don't have anything better to do." you shrugged and laughed sheepishly. farleigh had raised a brow, eating a vanilla macaron.

"you don't go out?" you open your mouth to answer farleighs question and close it, thinking of a way to explain your social status. there was nothing to fully elaborate on really but you really didn't want to look like a loner to mr.start.

"well," you began. "i go out with my roommate occasionally, but other than that my schedule consists of work, the gym, and home." farleigh hums in response. he grabbed another coffee macaron and held it up towards you, offering it. you got up and happily accepted the sweet pastry from the mams slender digits.

"i understand, i'd like to say i'm the same way. but this weekend i am going to a business event. it's not the greece or new zealand but atleast im out of this damned building." the two of you share a laugh at his words. his phone digs, and his brown eyes divert to the notification appearing on his phone.

"oh nonono.." you hear your boss mumble, making you perk up.

"whats wrong, sir?" you ask. he sighed loudly and flipped his phone over, rubbing his scruffy jaw with his hand.

"i uh– my babysitter just canceled on me the day of the business event." babysitter? you tilt your head, trying to keep your shock suppressed but slowly fail.

"you have a child?" you ask, clearly bewildered while farleigh looked up at you chuckling. his pearly whites nearly mesmerized you.

"yes, [y/n] i have a child. a son." you swallow thickly at his words. your mind couldn't help but wander. how have you worked for the ceo of one of england's biggest real estate companies for nearly a year now and never knew he had a son?

"i didn't know that. what's his name if i may ask?" you continued. you didn't want to pry, but this was the type of news that needed questions to be asked. it made you wonder if farleigh was married now.

"his name benjamin. i didn't expect you to know that i have a son. i keep my personal life very separate from work. behind the scenes as such." farleigh explains, picking up his phone to respond to the text.

"and your babysitter just canceled?" you repeat, trying to quickly piece together an image of farleigh with a miniature version of him.

"yes, unfortunately. it's so last minute considering it is thursday and the event is saturday." farleigh sets his phone back down and opens just computer again, sighing. a mildly comfortable silence laid over the room, yet you were still tense. your mind gears kept generating the same idea and you kept silently denying it until–

"i could babysit for you." you blurted out. farleighs fingers stopped typing at the keys and he looked your way. he raised a brow with inquisitiveness, scanning your face to see if you were serious. you were.

"you, would babysit my son?" he asks. you cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding.

"w-why not? i mean– i am your secretary, the closest person to you in his building." farleigh tried his damndest to keep his smile to a minimum as he gazed at you and you watched at the corners of his lips twitched. "be at my place at 1:30pm. i'll send my address the morning of."

you finally smiled, nodding before going back to your work on your laptop till the end of your shift. admittedly, you were excited to meet benjamin, and a little more excited to see mr.start's home.

© r4vn ²⁰²⁴, do not repost my work

stay tuned! ♡

[jennaispunk]

Just Another Saturday Night....

Note: Happy Valentine's Day Ali @pedgito. I'm your Space Sisters secret Valentine!!! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Javi invites himself to help you babysit for Steve and Connie on Valentine's Day. What happens between you is completely unexpected.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, sexual tension, kissing, touching, Valentine's Day, friends to lovers, language (Javi, who else?), brief smoking, brief alcohol consumption, mutual pining, no significant age gap, brief use of Spanish, Javi and reader work in the same building but aren't co-workers. Reader understands Spanish, Reader is shorter than Javi and has hair long enough to tuck behind her ear, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Other notes: This is my first published fic so please be nice! I am beyond nervous about putting this out there.

Special Thanks to @sawymredfox for the amazing moodboard, @beefrobeefcal for your advice, and @fallingforthearch for beta reading and squealing about this with me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

It seemed everyone in this damn building was talking about their plans for Valentines Day. Everyone except for you. Today was just a normal Thursday. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind as you made your way through the bustle of the DEA headquarters. There was no use in giving it any more thought. Love was overrated anyway, right? You dropped off some paperwork to the director’s secretary and headed back to your own desk in the Embassy. The clacking keys of typewriters and sharp ringing of telephones hummed around you as you crossed the room, and you narrowly avoided a collision with an agent with his head stuck in file.  The sound of your name being called across the bullpen made you stop in your tracks.

You scanned the room to see Steve Murphy, smiling at you from his office door. You smiled warmly in return and made your way over to him. Steve and his wife Connie had welcomed you with open arms when you first arrived in Colombia. They had taken you under their wing and the three of you had become close over the last 6 months, frequently sharing dinners at their apartment with their adopted daughter, Olivia, and occasionally Steve’s partner, Javier Peña.

Javi….he was always an enigma to you. He was handsome and a shameless flirt. He was quick with a line and a smile, and he used it to his advantage. There wasn’t a woman that worked in this building that hadn’t been subjected to his charms, and you were no exception. Of course, you had a thing for him. How could you not, with his aquiline nose and pouty lips that just begged to be kissed.  You’d spent enough time with him to know him pretty well, but he held you at arm’s length, never letting you get too close. He seemed content to keep it that way and you let him. It’s not like you actually had a chance with him anyway.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” You studied him as he grinned at you in that goofy way he always did. That smile reminded you of your brother and it made you miss him. Maybe you should call him and check in.

“I need a huge favor.” he asked with a soft smile.

You groaned softly. You hoped Connie wasn’t trying to set you up on another blind date. The last one was an absolute disaster.

“I don’t like the sound of this.” Your eyes narrowed. “What did you do this time?”

He chuckled and crossed his arms across his chest. “I didn’t do anything. I need a babysitter on Saturday. I was able to score reservations at that new restaurant downtown for Valentine’s Day. Connie’s been dying to try it since they opened, and I thought that it would be a nice surprise for her.”

You chuckled softly. “And you thought that your little spinster friend would be free on the most romantic night of the year?”

“You just haven’t mentioned any one special lately, so I thought you’d be free.” He cocked his head. “Why are you calling yourself a spinster, anyway? You’re gorgeous.”

The familiar combination of cigarette smoke and aftershave hit your nostrils before you saw him, and your breath hitched. Steve’s eyes darted over your shoulder, and you followed his gaze. “Ain’t that right, Javi?” The turquoise button-down shirt and tight dark wash jeans accentuated his biceps and his cinched waist. Javi appraised you, arching his brow and quickly raking up and down your body. “Sure, you’re at least a 7, princess.” He teased in the way only he could, flashing you that grin that made your knees weak. Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

Princess. That word single handedly made your blood boil and your stomach flip at the same time.

“Thanks, Javi.” you shot back, rolling your eyes.  He moved closer to Steve’s office door, crowding you with his broad frame. “What are you two talking about anyway?”

“I’m trying to get our friend here to babysit for me and Connie on Saturday.” Steve grinned, his puppy dog eyes staring you down.

“I’ll babysit for you.” You said. “I’d love to spend some time with Olivia.”

Javi wasted no time and butted in. This was his chance to get you alone and he was going to take it.

Javi smiled, his eyes dancing. “Why don’t I join you? I don’t have any plans for V-day either. What’d ya say, princess? Want some company for babysitting duty?”

Your words failed you and you just looked at him, your eyes wide.  His chocolate chip eyes stared down at you, waiting for you to speak.

“Ummm….” You stammered, your nails digging into your palms. “Sure. Why not?”

He gave you a crooked grin and nothing else.

“What time do you need me?” Your head swiveled back to Steve.

“Six o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.” You flashed a quick smile and turned on your heels.

“See ya then, princess.” Javi shouted to your retreating form.

You knocked on the apartment door at 5:50 pm, tapping your foot rhythmically as you wait. Olivia’s laughter seeped through the door and the tension drained from your shoulders. Connie’s smiling face greeted you a moment later. “Thank you so much for watching Liv for us.”

“It’s no problem at all. You know I love spending time with her.” You smiled warmly at her and walked over to the couch, making yourself comfortable. “You look amazing, by the way. You’re going to have to let me borrow that dress sometime.”

Steve came around the corner bouncing Olivia in his arms while she laughed. The sight made your chest tighten. “Look who’s here, Liv.” The little girl gave you the biggest smile and you stood to take her from her father’s arms.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, huh?”

Olivia giggled and grabbed for your necklace.

You and Connie chatted idly, while Steve headed into the kitchen. A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

“Hey, Javi!” Steve ushered him into the living room.

Javi’s eyes settled on you, his hands clenching into fists then relaxing. His chin jutted forward almost imperceptibly. Even in a simple T-shirt and jeans, you still managed to make him want you even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Why did he have to wear that plaid shirt? You thought to yourself as he sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch. The red and white plaid shirt stretched across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Your heart began to beat a little bit faster, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Babe…. we’d better head out or we’re going to be late.” Connie stood and you watched as Steve helped Connie with her coat. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. You sighed quietly and looked away.

“Have a great time.” You take Olivia’s hand to wave at her parents. “Bye Mommy and Daddy.”

Connie leaned down and kissed Olivia’s cheek. “Be good for your Auntie and Uncle.” She looked at you. “Call us if you need anything.”

“There’s beer in the fridge.” Steve said, his eyes darting between you and Javi. “You two behave yourselves. That’s a brand-new couch you’re sitting on.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

The click of the door latching echoed in your ears, making you painfully aware of the fact you and Javi were alone. The television droned in the background as the two of you looked at each other.

“I…” you both start. The sound of your combined nervous laughter made Olivia join in with her own forced laugh, breaking some of the awkward tension that had been building between you. Your eyes snap back to Javi as he clears his throat.

“You first.” His lips lift into a crooked grin.

“I was just going to say that I’m surprised that you were serious about babysitting with me tonight. I thought you’d have a hot date tonight.” He hadn’t mentioned that he had been seeing anyone lately, but maybe he was just keeping it quiet for now.

His throaty chuckle filled your ears. “Why would I want to shell out big bucks on Valentine’s Day when I get to have two pretty girls all to myself tonight?” He teased. His trademark smirk flashed across his face, but his eyes betrayed him with a softness that made the blood rush directly to your cheeks. His eyes flitted away from yours.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he was about to say but Olivia had other plans. She grabbed at your shirt and let out a whine. You realized she was probably hungry. Connie had told you she’d prepared Liv’s dinner and put it in the fridge. “You hungry, bug?” Her babbles confirmed your suspicions, and you sat her on the floor in front of her toys while you warmed up her dinner.

Although the night had started awkwardly, you and Javi settled into comfortable conversation. The pizza he’d ordered had just been delivered and you put Olivia in her highchair with her own dinner in front of her.

“The pizza here is good.” You told him as he took a bite of his slice, “but it’s got nothing on the pizza back home.”

His brow arched. “Oh yeah?”

You never talked about your home much. The subject never really came up in conversation between the two of you.

“Yeah.” You said with a smirk. “There’s this small pizza joint there…. It’s the best pizza in the world. I would fight anyone on that.”

The sound of his chuckle reverberated through your entire body and his eyes settled on you. “That’s pretty big talk, maybe I’ll have to try it sometime.” He finished his slice and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Anything else special about your hometown?”

You told him more about your hometown, and he told you about Laredo as you finished eating. Olivia, never one to sit still for long, voiced her impatience and you lifted her from her highchair.

“I’ll clean up.” he volunteered, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t look so surprised.” he smirked.

You laughed and adjusted Olivia on your hip. “If you insist. Liv and I will be playing in the living room.”

You spread some toys out on the living room floor and sat Olivia down. You stretched out on the floor, stacking some blocks in a pyramid. Olivia babbled and knocked them down, causing you to laugh softly. The sound of his footsteps made you both look up at him. Olivia grabbed a block and held it out to him. “You want Uncle Javi to play? Say ‘Come play with me, Uncle Javi’” Your eyes drifted up to meet his, your eyes twinkling at the double meaning behind those words.

Javi’s hands immediately went to his hips, his left knee jutting out slightly. His eyes darkened as his tongue pressed against his cheek. His eyes darted to the floor then back at you. You smirked as he turned away, your confidence soaring at the fact that you’d managed to rattle him, even if it was only a little. “Maybe Uncle Javi needs a minute.”

Javi stood with his back to you, willing himself to calm down; He wasn’t a man to get flustered easily. The idea of playing with you made him hard. He thought about football…..the amount of paperwork on his desk….anything to stop thinking about you.

A few moments later, he spun back around with the cool, confident mask firmly back in place. He didn’t acknowledge what had just passed between you and you let it slide, not wanting to push your luck. He sat down on the floor with you and picked up a block, smiling at Olivia.

The three of you played on the floor, you and Javi taking turns with the blocks and watching Olivia squeal with delight as she knocked them down. You wondered if you would ever have this……the man and the baby. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for you. Maybe you were always meant to be on the outside looking in.

Olivia’s yawn snapped you from your thoughts. You smiled as Olivia pouted and rubbed her eyes. “Looks like someone’s getting sleepy.” You sat up and gathered the little girl into your arms. “Let’s get you to bed, little one.” A warm feeling flowed through you as Olivia nestled her head into your shoulder. You cuddled her closer, relishing the feeling of someone needing you.

As you walked the hall to her room, she began to cry. Soft sobs filled your ears, and it broke your heart. “Hey, it’s okay babygirl.” You tried your best to soothe her as you bounced her lightly in your arms. Her sobs only grew louder as you paced her room, murmuring soft words into her ear. It seemed the more you tried, the louder she got. You tried everything you could think of, but nothing seemed to help. The sound of her cries made your stomach drop. You tried to think about what Connie would do if she were here as Olivia’s wails grew even louder. “I know I’m not your mama, but I’m trying kiddo.” Panic gripped you as you struggled to calm her. It shouldn’t be this hard to calm a crying baby, right? You couldn’t just let her continue to cry like this, you had to do something, but you were at a loss. Tears stung your eyes as you desperately racked your brain for the magical solution to your problem.

Javi silently watched you as struggled in vain to soothe Olivia. The nightlight in the corner cast a soft glow over you, highlighting your features in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. You looked beautiful holding a child in your arms, even if that child was currently wailing in your ear. It reminded him of a life he could have had if he had done things differently. A life that he still wanted but was afraid to reach for. He lived in a dangerous world, and he couldn’t ask someone, ask you, to sign up for that; but fuck if he didn’t want to.

“Do you think I could try?” Javi’s voice carried over the sound of Olivia’s cries. A wave of relief washed over you as you saw his unmistakeable frame leaning against the doorway.

“Please….” You said as you handed Olivia to him. “I’m out of ideas.”

“What seems to be the problem here, bebecita?” he cooed. “Did your auntie pinch you?” He chuckled softly at his own joke. Olivia wailed even louder, clearly not impressed by his attempt at humor.

You leaned against the wall as he paced the small room, bouncing the Olivia in his arms. He spoke to her softly, murmuring sweet words in Spanish. Olivia seemed to respond to him, her wails lessening in intensity. The tension you were holding in your shoulders began to slowly melt away and you closed your eyes.

“Duermete mi nino (sleep my child)…..duermete mi amor (sleep my love)…..” Javi crooned quietly.

Your eyes immediately snapped open. He was singing to her. Your chest tightened as the words of the lullaby floated to your ears. Holding a baby looks so good on him. The tenderness in his voice was unexpected and you ached to know that side of him. The image of Javi holding a child the two of you created danced in your head as he continued to sing slightly offkey. You tried to shake the image from your head, but it was no use, it was seared into your brain.

“Duermete pedazo de mi corazon (sleep little piece of my heart)….” Olivia was fast asleep on his shoulder by the time he finished the song. He gently laid her in her crib, covering her with a blanket. He looked to you, pressing a thick finger to his lips and motioned toward the door. The two of you quietly crept out of the room, closing the door behind you.

You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as the two of you plopped down onto the couch.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked. His eyes held a look you’d never seen from him before.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the heat rising to your cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

He smirked at you, making your face heat up even more. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, princess. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You looked away for just a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You were so good with her. Where did you learn to do that?” His smile made you want to lean in and kiss him, but you held back.

“I grew up in a large family, lots of cousins. There were always babies around.” His eyes fell to the floor. “My mom used to sing that song to me and my little sister when we were little.” The raucous melody of the cartoons you had on for Olivia cut sharply through the sudden shift in your conversation.

“It was a beautiful song.” You offer, not knowing exactly what to say. That was the most personal thing he’d ever shared with you. The silence lingered as you struggled to come up with the perfect thing to say to cut the tension in the room. “Even if it was offkey.”

His eyes jerked up to meet yours, his signature smirk plastered to his face. “You think you could do better?” he teased.  Laughter drowned out the din of the television. “Probably not.” You admitted.

You let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your heart raced a little bit faster at the realization of how close you came to confessing your feelings. Did you see something in his eyes before he looked away? You couldn’t be sure, and you certainly weren’t going to ask. You settled back into your seat on the couch and searched for the remote. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough cartoons for a while.”

Javi’s large hand engulfed the remote as he held it up. “Found it.” You immediately reached for it, but he held it out of your grasp. “Finder’s keepers, princess.” he teased. “I’m choosing what we watch.”

Your bottom lip jutted out and you narrowed your eyes. For a split second, you contemplated trying to fight him for it, but your head won out in the end. Sinking back into the couch, you admitted defeat. “Fine” you pouted, “just don’t pick anything stupid, okay?”

He laughed, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies. The smirk plastered to his face as he started flipping channels.

“I’m grabbing a beer.” You stood from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. “You want one?”

You notice his eyes on you and quickly lowered your arms, suddenly aware that your shirt was riding up, giving him the perfect view of your stomach.

He noticed that you noticed, and he cleared his throat, dragging his eyes away from your body. “I’d love one, thanks.”

Javi let out a deep breath. He’d come so close to telling you how much he wanted you. He wanted to take you in his arms and show you just how deeply he felt for you. That was his plan when he showed up tonight, but now that he was so close to you; he was chickening out. He’d only hurt you in the end, he’d find a way to mess it up.

You returned with two cold beers, and you offer him a bottle. Your fingers brush against his, sending sparks through your body. Settling back into the couch, you tucked your legs under you and took a long drag from your bottle. The cool liquid slides down your throat easily as you try to focus your attention on the television. He finally settled on something and leaned back into the couch. His legs deliciously spread wide, dangerously close to yours despite the distance between you. The heat was radiating from his body, and you struggled to maintain your focus on the movie he chose.

The two of you watched in silence, drinking your beer. It’s comfortable in a strange way and you find yourself wanting more of this. Just being in each other’s presence, not needing words. You could almost imagine this being a normal evening at home, curled up next to him on the couch with your head on his shoulder.

His laugh snaps you from your thoughts. Your attention is drawn back to the movie and it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.

“You actually like this movie?” You grimace at the absurd scene on the screen.

“How can you not like this movie? It’s a goddamn classic!” He took a long drag from his beer and peered at you over the bottle.

Your brow furrowed. “That’s debatable, but whatever you say, Javi.”

“Just give it a chance, princess. It gets better, I promise.”

A playful scoff erupts from your lips. “It better or I’m never letting you pick the movie again.” The heat rises to your cheeks again. This isn’t a date and your eyes dart toward him to see his reaction. His eyes were focused on the screen, but his moustache twitched slightly. You bit your lip and prayed he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t but you could’ve sworn he moved a little closer to you.

The credits had barely started to roll when you snatched the remote of his thigh. “My turn!” Your lips curve into a playful smirk as you point the remote at the television. He reached for the remote and you swat his hand away.

“Oh….so that’s how it’s going to be.” He smirked back at you.

You weren’t going to back down, even though you knew he could easily wrestle it away from you if he wanted. “Yep.” You responded; the cockiness dripped from the word.

His jaw twitched and his eyebrows raised. Without warning, he leaned forward and grabbed for the remote. You stopped him with a hand to his chest and tsked. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” she teased. His eyes narrowed as you laughed.

“You’re asking for it, princess…..I fight dirty.” A devilish smirk formed on his lips.

“Ooooh, I’m so scared.” You rolled your eyes knowing that the size difference between you meant you didn’t stand a chance but part of you wanted to see what he would do.

Without warning, he pounced. He reached out for the remote again and somehow you kept it just out of his reach. The sound of your laughter filled the room. His tongue darted out to wet his full lips and then he descended on you.

He grabbed you by the waist and tickled you. Your shriek pierced the silence, and you covered your mouth to keep from walking up Olivia. He was relentless as he leaned into you, pinning your back against the armrest, tickling you mercilessly. You pulled your hand away from your mouth, laughing and struggling to breathe.

“Javi, please….” you laugh as you squirmed in his grasp.

“Oh, now you want mercy?” he teased, tickling you even harder with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, okay. You win. I give up……I give up!” Your breath is ragged, and tears leak from your eyes from laughing so hard.

You suck in a deep breath as he finally stops tickling you, but he doesn’t move away. He had you caged in with his muscular arms.  He just stared at you, and you found it impossible to hold his intense gaze. You can feel the heat radiating from his body. His lips, so soft and full, were close enough to yours to feel his breath against your cheeks. His hand cupped your cheek and suddenly his lips were on yours. You froze, unable to process what was happening and he pulled back. His brow furrowed and his brown eyes searched your wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” You weakly croaked out.

Javi chuckled softly and smirked. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Your face burns with heat. What an idiotic thing to say. Of course you know what he’s doing. What you want to know is why, but your pride keeps you from asking. You already knew the answer.

“Haven’t you noticed the way I flirt with you is different from the way I flirt with the other women at the office?” His voice is low and husky and for once he’s the one having a hard time keeping your gaze.

You shook your head slowly and your brows furrowed. Maybe you had noticed, but you thought it was because he could never possibly be interested in you romantically. You never let yourself entertain the thought of him wanting you in that way.

“It’s because you’re not like them, princess…. you’re different.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You blinked rapidly, thinking that you’re imagining this. You’ve been wanting to hear these words for so long. Suddenly, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room and your lungs fight for oxygen.

“Javi….” He immediately cut you off with a finger to your lips.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he exhaled loudly through nose. He shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s too late. He’s already kissed you once and now he wants more; he’s too far gone.

“Just let me say this, please.” You watch his eyes close for a moment, then open again; His brown eyes intensely focused on you. “I have feelings for you, princess……. I want to give you everything.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Would you give me that chance?” His voice is pleading, bordering on desperate.

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. You had wanted this for so long and now it was finally happening. The slight hum from the baby monitor filled the room as you continued to stare at each other. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. Your skin tingled with the sensation, and you somehow resisted the urge to take the thick digit into your mouth and suck it. The rise and fall of your chest matched the pounding of your heart as he slowly leaned in and captured your lips with his.

His tongue touched your lips, and you parted them without a second thought, allowing him access to your mouth.  

This feels like heaven. You had dreamt about what it would feel like to kiss him and the reality is better than you could have ever imagined. His kiss was surprisingly gentle, his soft tongue probed your mouth with a quiet intensity that made you throb for more.

His large hand cupped the back of your head as he gently pushed you down into the couch. His breath was quick and heavy as he leaned into you. His nose pressed against you as he deepened the kiss, pushing you further underneath him.

The rest of the world was completely forgotten as you pulled him even closer to you, snaking your fingers into his dark hair. Your tongues danced to a perfect rhythm as you both lost yourself in desire.

His hand found the hem of your shirt and his fingers slowly crept under the fabric. A soft moan escaped you as he finally came into contact with your bare skin. His calloused fingers skated across the smooth skin of your stomach, brushing across your ribcage, moving higher at a painfully slow pace surely designed to drive you insane.

The taste of the cherries mixed with the bitterness of the beer on your lips made his head swim. The way you had parted your lips for his tongue......God, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to take you right here on this couch and claim you as his.

He settled into the cradle of your thighs, his growing bulge pressing firmly against your aching heat.  “Fuck, cariño.” The words left his lips in a breathy whisper, the want blanketing you like a thick fog blinding you to anything other than him. Your tongue licked into his mouth hungrily, almost desperately. His tongue pushed back against yours with equal force, letting you know  he was just as much into this as you were. The ornamental clock on the wall ticking to the pace of your breathing as you fell deeper under his spell.

Javi’s thick fingers traced the lace of your bra, the thin material leaving little between his hand and your skin. Your breath faltered as his thumb brushed across your nipple until it sharpened under his ministrations. He quietly moaned his approval into your mouth along with a more forceful thrust of his tongue. Your back arched, pushing your body into his hand…..the desire pooling at your core.

Neither one of you heard the click of the latch as the front door swung open.

“Oh, fuck!” Steve’s voice brought you both crashing back to reality.

Javi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and mouth agape. You scrambled out from underneath him, tugging at your shirt in a desperate attempt to cover up.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. His eyes danced between the two of you and he smirked. “I knew you two fuckers wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other.” His keys clanked against the bowl, and he shot a glance at Connie trying to suppress her giggles. “There better not be any cum stains on my couch.”

Javi’s jaw twitched as he moved away from you but otherwise, he was the picture of calm, not a shred of embarrassment shown on his beautiful face. You, on the other hand, were a different story. Your face burned as your eyes bored holes into the floor. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Connie or Steve, even though the smile on your face could have lit up the darkest night. You were embarrassed about being caught but you didn’t regret a single moment of what happened between you and Javi on that couch. You swallowed your feelings of embarrassment and lifted your chin. You weren’t a teenager who’d just been caught making out with your boyfriend by your parents, you were an adult and you had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Did you enjoy the restaurant?” You asked Connie, changing the subject to calm your racing heart.

“Oh my god, it was amazing! The food was ridiculous. You would love it.” Her eyes darted to Javi and the subtle raise of her brow didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I’m glad you had such a great time.” The two of you chatted briefly about how Olivia did throughout the night. Your eyes darted toward Javi and Steve, the two of them engrossed in their own conversation.

You grabbed your purse and called out to Steve, telling him you’d see him at work on Monday.

“Do I see double dates in our future?” Connie asked quietly as the two of you hugged.

You laughed softly. “Maybe?” Your eyes darted to Javi and the two of you locked eyes for a brief moment.

Your eyes drifted back to the couch. The heat of the moment you and Javi shared spreading through your body like smoldering embers. Your eyes fell on Javi one last time, his lips twitched into a crooked grin.

“I guess I should get out of here too.” Javi clapped Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”

He pecked Connie on the cheek and opened the door, allowing you to exit first. His hand rested gently at the small of your back as he guided you toward the stairs.

“You know, Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet Princess.” Javi whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

The warmth of his hand at your back made your skin tingle. “No, I guess it’s not.” Your lips twisted into a small smirk.

When you reached your car, he grabbed you by the waist spinning you around to face him, his eyes intense with desire. “I’m not ready to stop celebrating.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed his body against yours. “Me either.”  He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away just enough to look at you.

“My place.” His voice was rough with desire. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

You slowly nodded, not wanting to seem too eager. He brushed his lips against yours one last time before releasing you from his grip and walking toward his own car; pausing momentarily to tilt his head to light a cigarette.

Was this the start of something? You had no idea…..but you were damn sure going to find out.

[hard-core-super-star]

i think i love you still [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: you've spent four years trying to understand the complicated mess of thoughts that make up kate bishop. after dealing with the pain of her absence, and the more significant pain of her return, you finally get it right.

warnings: none; light angst with happy ending; childhood best friends to idiots in love who are too stubborn to admit it; my writing style changing ever other paragraph

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: this very loosely follows the events of hawkeye up until the day before the christmas party. it's also heavily inspired by babyblue by xana. you don't have to listen to it for the fic but it's an incredible song and i can't recommend it enough. enjoy! <3

* * * * * * *

People say absence makes the heart grow fonder but you call absolute bullshit on that.

Although to be fair, the problem isn’t the saying. The problem is Kate Bishop.

You’re definitely not the first person to think that, and you certainly won’t be the last considering the kind of person Kate is, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be upset about it. Especially considering the years that have passed.

You’ve always given her the benefit of the doubt, not because you think she deserves it but because you would have driven yourself crazy from the amount of unanswered questions Kate left behind. Or more specifically, from the fact that she left you behind with no explanation.

Kate deciding to leave you and Bishop Security behind to go to university outside of the city wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was her refusing to tell you about her decision until the day she had to leave, making sure to tell you how unambitious she thought you were for taking the job her mom offered you as her secretary.

You still didn’t know what hurt more, her disappearing from your life or the insults she hurled your way before she left. Kate Bishop has many flaws and being an overachiever is definitely near the top of the list. Hence the amount of effort she put into shoving you out of her life.

It should have made working with her mom incredibly uncomfortable but Eleanor seemed to understand your pain better than you could have imagined. Being left behind by the young archer wasn’t an experience that was unique to just you and yet it didn’t make you miss her any less. You're usually good at ignoring the pain her absence left inside you but tonight is different. You look around the bustling party, the smallest of frowns on your face.

This was definitely the worst part of your job. You didn’t mind the long meetings, the stacks of reports you had to look through every day or even the miscellaneous tasks that Eleanor assigns you because you’re the only one who won’t complain about having to bring her another cup of coffee every few hours.

All of that was nothing compared to having to go to stupid galas with even stupider people. You’ll never understand why your boss insists on you accompanying her to every Bishop Security gala considering the lack of something to do. You have a sneaking suspicion it’s her way of trying to get you to interact with more people to hopefully find a way to get over Kate but you’ve never questioned her about it.

You catch sight of your boss while scanning the room for something to take your mind off a certain purple archer and she calls you over to her. You force a smile onto your face as you approach her. “Is everything okay?”

“You don’t have to sound so formal, y/n,” Eleanor says with a small smile. “We’re out of the office.”

“Right. My question still stands though.”

She affectionately rolls her eyes at your insistence. “Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted you to hear the news from me. Kate is home for the holidays…and she’s coming tonight.”

You force yourself not to react even though your first instinct is to run as far away as possible from the party. You try to be calm but your voice comes out a tad harsher than intended. “And I’m supposed to be interested in that information because?”

“Because she’s been looking your way since I called you over.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise and even though you really shouldn't do it, you lift your head up and scan the room for Kate Bishop. You don’t have to search for long. Even with the years gone by, your eyes are immediately drawn to her tall, suit-clad frame. She meets your eyes from across the room and you swear everyone else disappears until only the two of you remain. You notice the clench in her jaw even from this distance and you hate yourself for finding it extremely attractive.

Some things never change.

“You should go talk to her.”

You tear your gaze away from Kate to stare incredulously at Eleanor for even suggesting that. “I’d rather get fired than spend five minutes with her.”

“Then you’re lucky we’re not at work,” she says with a playful glare. “Come on, y/n, how long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

She already knows the answer. She was the one you called to pick you up from Grand Central Station after Kate left you behind to chase after…whatever it is she was hoping to find out there. You’re not sure if you’re hoping she found it or not.

“That doesn’t matter. She’s visited New York how many times since she started college?” You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds to avoid sounding as bitter as you feel. “And how many times did she come to see me?”

The older Bishop woman raises her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it. I won’t push. Just think about it?”

She walks away from you with a small smile, probably going off to find Jack to tell him all about yet another failed attempt at getting you and Kate back on speaking terms again.

When you turn back, Kate’s gone and you do your best to ignore the ache her absence leaves inside you.

You decide to go back to your apartment a few minutes later which means you successfully miss the drama that unfolds. What you don’t miss is the news report recounting the events or the text from Eleanor telling you you don’t have to go to the office for the next few days. You find it strange but you’re not about to say no to some much-needed time off.

That does mean you miss Kate’s surprising return to Bishop Security which leaves you completely unprepared when she shows up at your door with a ridiculous request and an even more ridiculous outfit.

“I need you to take care of my dog for a few hours.”

That’s the first thing she says when you open your door. No greeting. No apology. No explanation as to why she has the audacity to ask you for a favor after avoiding you like the plague for almost four full years.

Unfortunately for you, your anger is momentarily forgotten at the sight of the adorable golden retriever standing happily at the brunette’s side. “Since when do you have a dog?”

“Since last night,” she replies with a shrug. “I saw him outside of the party yesterday and my heart wouldn’t let me leave him behind.”

You have no doubt that she was trying to be cute with that reply but all it does is make you remember all the reasons why you should slam the door in her face. She seems to read your mind just from the shift in your facial expressions because she ‘accidentally’ lets go of the dog’s leash and lets him run straight into your apartment.

“Listen, I can explain, and I will, just not right now. But I promise you it’s important.”

Of course.

You were kidding yourself if you thought Kate had actually changed. It’s always been this way with her. There’s always something to chase that’s infinitely more important than you. So important, in fact, that she can’t even stop for five seconds to explain what the hell is going on.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Kate.” There’s a flash of something in her eyes, maybe it’s regret or maybe it’s disappointment, but it’s gone just as fast as it came. She opens her mouth to say something but you interrupt her before she can dig herself into a deeper hole. Yet another habit that you’re sure she hasn’t learned to break. “It’s fine, just go.”

She hesitates for a second before giving you a small nod and walking away. You watch her go just like all the other times before. Except this time there’s an excitable dog waiting inside your apartment. You try not to think about how badly you wish the furry companion by your side was Kate instead as you go about your day.

To no one’s surprise, you don’t hear from the archer for the rest of the day. You would be disappointed if you weren’t so used to it. At least this time, Kate’s broken promises only result in you having to take care of the golden retriever, who you’ve affectionately started calling Lucky, and nothing else…or so you think.

It’s not until late morning the next day that your door receives another urgent knock. Lucky immediately reacts, jumping down from the couch and running over to the door, his tail wagging rapidly as if he can tell his new owner is waiting on the other side. You chuckle despite yourself before following after him. “I don’t think you’re getting this dog back, Kate.”

The smile on your face disappears once you take in her appearance. Her face is littered with small cuts and you can see the outline of a bruise forming on the side of her jaw. Your eyebrows furrow the longer you look at her but the answer is given to you by the purple costume she’s wearing. Even without a bow in her hand, it’s obvious what her outfit represents and you can literally feel your heart sink into the depths of your stomach.

“y/n-”

“No. Save it.” There’s a mix of concern and frustration in your tone but you don’t have nearly enough time to figure out which feeling is stronger. “Just take your dog and go.”

“I can’t,” she says, tinges of desperation painting her voice. “I owe you an explanation.”

You scoff. “Oh, you owe me much more than that. You have no idea what the last four years have been like for me.”

The brunette takes a step forward, clearly asking a silent question. “Then tell me what I’m missing. Help me make it right.”

“I’m not a stupid Avengers mission, Kate!” You hate the way your voice breaks under the weight of your repressed emotions. “If you're looking for someone to save, you're in the wrong place. I don't need you. Not anymore.”

You're ready for that to be the end of the conversation and you reach out to grab hold of Lucky’s leash. You're about to hand the leash over to Kate when her next words stop you in your tracks.

“What if I need you?”

You stare at her with wide eyes almost not believing what you've just heard. Four years of silence and absence. That's what it took to hear those words you've desperately longed for.

But it's not enough.

“You're a little too late.”

She wants to fight back against your words. You know her well enough to recognize that spark of determination in her eyes. Despite what you've just said, a part of you hopes that's what she's going to do. That this time she’ll fight for you.

Instead, all you get is a mumbled apology as she snatches Lucky’s leash and walks away again. You shouldn't have expected anything different…but you did. You expected whatever mess she seems to be in to be more than enough motivation to fix what happened between the two of you.

Kate Bishop is many things but predictable isn’t one of them.

The next few days go by far too slowly for your liking. Eleanor denies your request to go back to work (multiple times) and without a place to travel to for the holidays, you’re stuck in the one place you’d rather not be. You don’t think there’s a single corner of New York that won’t remind you of the one person you don’t want to spend any more time thinking about.

It’s not until the day before the Christmas party, a party you helped arrange even though it’s definitely not a part of your job description, that you run into the purple archer once again. Or more specifically, she runs into you.

You’re on your way out of your apartment despite the heavy rain that falls outside. You open your door expecting to be met with an empty hall only to find a soaking-wet Kate Bishop standing on your doorstep, looking like the world’s largest golden retriever. You do your best to ignore the way your heart skips a beat just from the mere sight of her. It takes a few seconds for you to get over your shock but you manage to find your voice. “Kate? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now.”

You briefly consider slamming the door shut in her face but decide against it. For the moment. “That didn’t answer the question, Bishop.”

“I just…” She sighs. “I had to see you again.”

“So you decided to walk here in the pouring rain?” You’re stuck between wanting to call her an idiot and wanting to admit how cute she looks. Yeah, you’re still a sucker for her puppy dog eyes.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance after everything I’ve done but please. I can’t keep this inside any longer. I need to talk to you.”

A long moment of silence goes by before you make up your mind. You might be signing yourself up for more disappointment but you have too many unanswered questions to let her walk away again.

“Come in before you catch a cold,” you say as you open the door wider for her.

She wastes no time in complying and you’re almost certain the shakiness of her hands has less to do with the rain and more to do with her nerves. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart before shutting the door and following after her.

She stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room, her eyes scanning every picture frame and random poster that adorns your walls. You can tell the realization she comes to by the subtle slouch of her shoulders. There’s not a single thing in your living room that carries the memory of her. No pictures, no posters, no trace of the role she played in your life at some point.

“Let me get you a towel or something.” You start to walk away but a hand on your wrist stops you. You let her turn you around, not putting up any sort of fight as she pulls you in closer to her.

You wait for her to say something but all she does is stare into your y/e/c eyes, her grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly. You can practically see every thought that flickers through her mind and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the day deciphering the walking contradiction of feelings that make up who she is.

“y/n…” Her voice trails off as her blue eyes travel down your face. You’ve never seen that look before but you’re almost certain you know what it means. And it makes your head spin. “I shouldn’t have walked away. Not the first time, not the last time. But I…I’m so afraid of hurting you. Again. I thought dealing with my feelings would be easier if I was away from you but I was wrong. All it did was make you a stranger and you have no idea how much I regret that. How badly I want to make things right between us because I…I love you. I always have. And I can't go another second without you knowing that.”

You’re stuck between who you’ve been and who you want to be.

You’ve spent the better part of four years cursing Kate for leaving you, regretting the love you couldn’t help but foster for her, wishing she had never stepped foot into your life. But now…with her standing in front of you, looking at you with sincere eyes strong enough to make any other girl weak in the knees, you accept the truth you’ve been pushing away for so long.

You don’t blame Kate for leaving. You don’t regret the years you spent by her side. You don’t wish you never met her. You don’t hate her.

You love her.

It’s been that way since the day you met her and no amount of stupid mistakes or misunderstandings can ever change that. Hell, not even both of your stubborn personalities could change it.

“Say something,” she whispers. “Please.”

She leans in toward you. It’s a small move but you pick up on it immediately. Your breath catches in your throat before you do the only thing you can think of.

You close your eyes and take a leap, trusting Kate to catch you.

And she does. For the first time, you embrace the uncertainty that makes up your strained relationship and she doesn’t leave you hanging. She meets you halfway and the feeling of her lips against yours holds a promise you know she’ll fight tooth and nail to keep. She's not leaving.

This time, and every time from here on out, she's staying. And that's all that matters.

[eumivrse]

NEVERTHELESS : armin arlert

summary there’s no such thing as fate. being laced in a relationship with someone who you’re not meant to be with was the last thing you expected. nevertheless–

warning(s) oral, semi-public, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, 69, co-workers to lovers, slight angst, catcalling, armin and reader are both secretaries for eren

word count 9,069

author’s note the title and some of the phrases were inspired by the k-drama, nevertheless, even though i really fucking hated the drama itself LMFAO. also armin was based on mr. cha from business proposal cuz yum.

Routines, you love ‘em.

Nothing sounds better than your whole day already mapped out in your head to avoid any inconveniences. Wake up, get ready for the day, work your 9-5 office job, go home, get ready for bed, sleep, then repeat.

People tend to push this negative narrative on office jobs, but you pay no mind to it. You prefer it this way anyways– you’re earning enough money and you’re cruising through life smoothly.

You’re in your shared office right now with your partner secretary, timidly asking, “Arlert, can you go with me to pick up proposal documents for the meeting on Friday?”

Your job isn’t bad at all. Being employed right under the CEO as his secretary has its perks, but it’s hard to ignore his other secretary's distant behavior towards you. He frequently avoids you unless it’s for work, yet he confuses you whenever he sees you struggling and would be the first to help you.

Instead of saying anything, he just glanced up from his computer to acknowledge your existence, nodded, then went out the room ahead of you without a word.

See?

But just a month ago, when there was a dispute between you and one of the marketing managers, right when the other person stepped closer and had their hand balled into a fist ready to swing at you, he pulled you away to the office and offered you water and support, stammering and fumbling with his words as if he did something wrong. Oftentimes, he seems to want to say something to you and it leaves you skeptical. What, is there a piece of lettuce stuck in between your teeth? You don’t believe that you’re that ditzy, but you certainly feel that way when you’re around him.

And not only is he the CEO’s right hand man, he’s the Jaeger family’s adopted son, meaning he’s just as significant of a figure as your boss. The only reason he’s below him in terms of occupation is because he chose to– even though in technicality, he’s much more qualified than Jaeger. And though your position equates to his, he’s much more experienced than you are since he knows what pleases Jaeger — they’ve lived together for fuck’s sake.

You weren’t going to lie, you can admit that you’ve checked him out a few times. What can you say, he has an ass and a yummy bod, his uniform that included slacks and a button up doing him justice. Though he’s never piqued your interest — considering how you work with him. You and him are supposed to be a team, yet you feel so apart.

You had an inkling that maybe he had feelings for you but that’s just thinking of yourself too highly. He’s the same way with everyone else, introverted and antsy. That’s why he let his brother take the position as CEO.

Nevertheless, he’s never wronged you in any way, so you let go of speculations and separated your opinions from work.

Jaeger had some of his father’s business friends over in his office today. As per, he ordered you to brew his morning coffee as well as extra for his guests while Arlert treats them with hospitality. As you went into the dry room to place the drinks down on the glass coffee table, you already felt stiff as if you were being analyzed — specifically by the oldest man in the room — as you bent down to place his drink in front of him. It’s uncomfortable being observed like this; you were wearing a pencil skirt today, nothing scandalous, but nonetheless you felt uneasy.

The two other guests said their thank you and you were about to leave to give privacy, until the man that was checking you out, blurted, “Jaeger, you let things like that run around here?” He was obviously referring to you, pointing his chin at your direction.

Even though you wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, you couldn’t. You’ve never been catcalled like this, and it’s twice as embarrassing that the first time had to happen in front of your boss and your co-worker. Your back is turned towards the rest of them, hand wrapped around the cold knob, frozen in place.

“Let’s be professional here, yeah?” Jaeger sighs as he grabs a stack of papers in front of him. Your hand quietly turned the knob and you exited out of the room, though you couldn’t help but just stand outside and try to recuperate from what you just heard.

Instead of dropping the topic, the man went on. “I’m just saying, if I were you, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Jaeger answers, his patience running thin. “She’s my secretary. Nothing more and nothing less. I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to imply.”

“If she’s up for a part time job… you know I’m in need of a new assistant. You don’t really need two secretaries after all, I’m guessing. You’re a big boy.” Your stomach churned and your limbs felt weak, the next thing you know, you hear Arlert raise his voice.

“Get out.” Armin’s tone is filled with disgust and thus, you speed walk off the vicinity and into the room where your shared office with Armin is as you hear the voices in Jaeger’s room get more intense by the second.

You’ve never heard him raise his voice, much less on someone who seems important for the growth of the company. You perceive yourself as someone trivial to him, so why would he go the extra mile to protect you?

As you sit down, you see your faint reflection on the computer screen. You stare at yourself, cheeks flared up in heat due to how ashamed you are. Maybe if you’ve worn slacks instead of a skirt this wouldn’t have happened, maybe your boss didn’t have to be put into that position, maybe then—

“Are you okay?” A stern, yet gentle voice shatters the self-deprecating thoughts that’s straining your head. You turn your chair around and it’s Arlert behind you, arms crossed, head looking down to meet your eyes for what seems like the first time.  

You stammer as you look away, “Yes- yeah.” Drops of tears fell and dampened the carpet beneath you, losing the fight of trying to hold back tears. Cupping your face with your hands, you quietly snivel in front of your partner, him kneeling to see you eye-level, reaching into his pocket and handing you a handkerchief as his own way of comforting you.

As you take the checkered cloth from him, your eyes puffy, he continues, “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Eren said can take the rest of the day off.” And though you couldn’t face him in the eye, you take note of his left cheek: swollen and flushed red.

“Hey… did you get hurt?” You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, but hesitated knowing how he is.

There was no use of lying, even a kid can decipher the fact that he’s been struck across the face. “It’s okay, a little ice can fix it. Don’t worry about me and rest, alright?”

You know it was a lie— he wasn’t okay, but nevertheless—

“Okay.”

Weeks have passed since then and oddly enough, he’s been treating you differently. In other words, he’s been more polite, visiting your desk more often, and such. It’s even gotten to the point where you’ve exchanged flirtatious glances, staring at each other for a bit too long, but both of you always quickly turn away to avoid any more awkwardness.

In general, your perception of him has changed and if this couldn’t be cliche enough, you’ve caught a little crush on him. You didn’t take it seriously though, as you figured that this is probably just from your lack of romance and your heart is mistaking your co-worker as someone you could potentially have a romantic relationship with.

Your fellow colleagues have noticed his sincerity towards you as well. By you— meaning that he’s still the same stoic person towards everyone else.

Tonight is the annual office Christmas party and instead of renting a proper venue, the president decided why not hold it on the floor you work on instead. Parties aren’t your forte, but you don’t mind. After all, it’s part of the job and to get on people’s good side. Avoiding this will just cause others to look at you as someone who’s arrogant.

It’s part of your routine to loosen up once in a while, so you didn’t hold back on the drinks. It wasn’t to the point where you felt like the world was spinning, but you obviously weren’t your… usual self. Calm, collected, and professional.

“Are you going to be alright going home yourself?” Sasha’s arm was draped over you as you walked her to the front of the building to wait for her Uber.

“Of course! I’m no baby!” She laughs maniacally, leading to you wondering how she landed on an office job with this energetic personality of hers.

After she got in the black sedan, you went back inside, hopped in the elevator, and when you got to your designated floor, you peeked through the small open crack of your office room as you were about to head home yourself. Arlert was typing away on his laptop, a bottle of whiskey along with a small shot glass sitting atop the wooden surface of his table.

“You can come in, you know.” He sighs, glancing at you for a moment then back on the screen in front of him, glasses reflecting the white sheen from the laptop. You entered the room, struggling to walk properly as you plop on the green velvet couch in the middle of the spacious room. You weren’t wasted by any means, it was just your damn 3 inch stilettos getting in the way.

Too tired to physically bend down and take the uncomfortable shoes off you murmur, “Why weren’t you out there with everyone else?”

“I prefer it to be quiet.” He clicks away on his keyboard, foot tapping on the carpet, the faint music blaring through the walls. The room was dim, the only light coming from his laptop and the open blinds. “Care for a drink?” He takes out another glass from his drawer, pops off the decanter of the whiskey and you watch the liquid meld onto the shape of the round glass.

You honestly don't feel like consuming anymore alcohol since you need to drive home, but your mind is urging you to take the drink anyways as a chance to spend more time with him. After balancing yourself, you sauntered towards him, took the drink in hand, and hopped so you could sit on his desk.

Clearly being faded is giving you more self-confidence, you’d never do this if you’re sober. You had no underlying intentions, you just wanted to unravel a layer of you he’s never seen before since you’ve led yourself to believe that he just thinks of you as his weak hearted co-worker and that’s why he’s treating you nicely and with care. Closing his laptop and walking around to lean against the edge of the desk next to you, you clink your glasses together and drink away.

“Good job on your presentation today, even Eren couldn’t make Ackerman as agreeable as you did,” His compliment only made you giggle. Placing your drink back down, you answer with a lopsided grin, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was sudden when he felt your head against his shoulder, not paying attention to the finger that slid around the edge of his jawline and the tilt that startled him, your noses nearly bumping. “Are you going to give me a reward?” You murmur, the corner of your lip turning up into a smirk.

“What would you like?” He wasn’t retaliating at all which only egged you on to go further.

You leaned to press your lips on his, the realization of how insane you are for doing this finally hitting you, but it’s too late. The repercussions for being unprofessional in the workplace can be dire, so you try to pull away with the assumption that Arlert will reprimand you. Before you could even part, he just pulled you back in, deepening the intimate moment and whimpering against your mouth from mere desperation.

One of his hands was around the back of your neck without force, but to imply that he wishes to keep going. You laced your fingers on his blonde locks, drawing his face closer as you nibbled on his bottom lip. When his other hand nipped on your collar button, you became aware of the buzzing in your heart.

The hunger and yearn you’ve had for him.

But is this really ethical? A few minutes of pleasure can cost you your career.

When half your button-up came undone, bra peeking in the crevice it revealed, you pushed him as lightly as you could.

Immediately, he stopped touching you and distanced himself by a few inches. “I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” He apologizes.

“No- it’s not you… it’s just that- I’ve never… God, this is embarrassing.” Yes, you’re a virgin and indirectly admitting it to your co-worker who was in the process of taking it is making you cringe. A part of you thought that you should’ve just kept going without telling him, but another part of you is afraid, what if it hurts?

What if you start bleeding and he gets icked out over it?

It’s not as if you’ve never had a significant other, you’ve just never gotten past second base because of the reasons just mentioned.

You were fiddling with your hands, trying to avoid looking at him at all until he pushed your chin with his finger to meet his eyes. His complexion is disheveled, strands of hair out of place and a smear of your lipstick apparent on the corner of his cheek. He seemed a little drowsy himself, his eyes are drooping, but impressively, he’s able to keep a good posture.

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing, but it’s up to you whether or not you want to proceed.” His words were reassuring with no doubt; you felt comfortable with him being your first, it was just a matter of judgment.

“We can keep going…” you shyly mumble, fingers grasping on his tie and pulling him back in for a kiss. Your skin felt cold, goosebumps forming from the anxiety bubbling in your stomach mixed with the fact that it’s actually freezing in the room you’re in at the moment.

Arlert noticed this when he felt your body trembling and your breathing hitch, ailing the tension by pressing soft kisses down your neck, one hand now past your top, cupping your boob under the fabric of your bra. He allowed his hand to squeeze around the swell of your breast, thumb flicking on your nipple.

Gasping, you mewl, “Arlert—“ he hushed you by putting his thumb over your lips. “Drop the formalities. Forget about our positions at least for tonight, okay?” You nod your head yes, hands slipping from under his shirt to frantically removing his buttons from its respective holes to shed Armin off his top. Being distracted enough, you didn’t take note of his hand sliding under your skirt and onto your thigh, finger teasing the cloth covering your pussy.

Shuddering, you squeeze your thighs back together out of instinct, Armin just prying them back open. He went down on his knees, kneeling in front of you while keeping your legs apart, taking a moment to appreciate the fresh view upon him.

The idea that he’s going to be your first drives him insane, more so that he’s not sober. It gives him a sense of possessiveness, the fact that his junior secretary is still a pure virgin. Still, he wanted to make sure you’re getting the best of the best instead of you feeling forced to do something you aren’t up for.

After all, it’s the least he could do. You’ve contributed a lot to the company— his family, and you share a lot of the same qualities which makes you two a great team.

Your panties were definitely soaked and Armin proceeded by pulling them down and tossing it over the headrest of his chair behind you. It felt bizarre that one of the company’s biggest names is kneeling in front of you, half naked and in between your thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You mutter.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? I’m fine, but I need to know if you’re good. As soon as you start to feel… unsettled, let me know and we’ll pretend this never happened.” His tone had a hint of tenderness, but still domineering. Your fingers are curled on the edge of the desk, Armin delicately trailing pecks to your inner thigh and rolling your skirt up to give him more allowance.

The tip of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body as he licked your clit and down the slit of your cunt. You shivered, Armin gazing up and catching you biting your lip to prevent yourself from being too noisy. He chuckles, hands wrapping around the meat of your thighs, “Don’t be shy on me now, I thought you wanted a reward, sweet girl.” At this point, he’s lost all sense of logic, all he wants to see— to hear —now is just you, you, you.

With fingers laced and gripped tighter on his hair, you pushed his face further on you, his lips brushing and nibbling right where you wanted it. “A-Armin—“ You hesitated to cry out his name, yet it’s the only word you can think of.

On the other side of the wall, a dull mixture of music and mumbles of co-workers passing by the room are caught by the ears while Armin slides his tongue in between your folds, hole leaking with arousal.

While you fought to squeeze his head in between your thighs, he’d only push them out and moan, piling onto the sheer heat that you’re experiencing within your pussy. He puckers his lips, pushing two of his fingers in your plush walls. “So sweet…” He reveres, mesmerized to say the least.

Fuck, you were tight, Armin told himself.

He offered his free hand for you to clasp onto to assure that he isn’t hurting you. You grab ahold of it while his fingers stretched you apart, a slight squelch noise painting your cheeks with heat out of embarrassment.

You weren’t going to lie, it did hurt.

Did.

After a few pumps, Armin was able to slip his digits in and out with ease, curling them up when they’re knuckle deep, and it drove you over the edge. It’s different when someone else does it for you, it’s never felt like this when you were experimenting by yourself.

You were practically pulling on his hand, heavy squeezes letting him know that you’re close. With repeated mumbles of his name, you announced, “Armin, Armin, I’m so— hah, god, I think— I think I’m close…” Your whole body was stiff, head shifted back and eyes set on the ceiling as Armin added the tip of his tongue on your clit. He wasn’t rushing you to your orgasm at all, but he’s precise, he knew immediately when he hit your spot and repeatedly arched his fingers in that angle.

Coating his fingers with your slick, you cried in silence, still sober enough to realize that this isn’t your bedroom and there’s people constantly walking back and forth by this room. Armin used his thumb to swipe languid circles on your clit, soothing you of your orgasm, massaging your inner thigh with his other hand, mumbling, “You’re okay, you’re okay… you did so well, love.”

You kept shuddering even as he got up on his feet after being on his knees, tugging on your waist slightly, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a longing kiss, lips gentle and with a slight tinge of your arousal apparent on his taste. Craving for more, you sneak your hand in between his pants to get a feel of the rigid texture against his boxers.

You giggle, pulling away from him. “Mm- you’re hard.”

“I just saw a beautiful woman cum in front of me, who wouldn’t be?” He smiles drunkenly, taking a chunk of your cheek in between his fingers to pinch you.

You could only feel flustered at his comment, not knowing what to say after that — you aren’t particularly used to someone complimenting you in that manner.

In a world where this situation might seem immoral, to you and Armin at this exact moment, it just felt… right.

You give him the green light. “Please… continue.”

His eyes flickered with surprise. “Are you sure you’re ready? It- it doesn’t have to be right now, we can take a rain check-“ Shushing him with your finger, you chuckled for two reasons.

First reason, you decided to verbalize. “Why are you talking as if it’s as simple as a team dinner? You’re so cute, Arlert- I mean- Armin.”

Second reason? This whole thing is just a fling. The most that’ll come of it is just more sexual tension in the workplace and probably awkwardness, but what are the chances of that happening when your personalities won’t allow that to happen?

If this is going to be your way for your feelings to fade into a memory, then you’ll take it. You’ll go to work on Monday pretending like it was just a wet dream, and avoid eye contact with him until you clear your head of it.

But unfortunately for your little innocent head, feelings don’t work like that.

Your reassurance was enough said, he slips his hand into his wallet to search for a condom, which luckily he had one, unbuckles his belt, then pulls his pants down. The lump against the fabric of his boxers seemed as if it was begging for fresh air, you pulled his briefs down to his mid-thighs as he bent over to place kisses on your neck.

His cock was on the lengthier side, tip flushed pink and oozing with pre-cum. You wrap your hand around it with a light squeeze, gliding up and down lazily. He groaned your name right up in your ear, hands traveling all over your body, holding onto you like he’s been longing for this more than you have.

A stroke up, then down, roll your thumb on the tip, and repeat. “Holy shit, oh yeah. Oh god yeah…” Occasional grunts turned into chants of mewls and cries before you swallowed his pleas with your lips. It felt a little empowering to have this much control over your senior, so safe to say that you were eating this up.

He completely submerged himself under your touch, the vanilla scent of his hair vigorating the nerves of your nose. Armin felt weak in the knees the more you teased him by denying him of his release, one twitch oh his cock means your strokes would get twice as slow as prior. He gasps as you parted, “Oh fuck, oh fuck—! baby… please make me cum… please…”

Not like you were planning on teasing him any further, but he came almost straight away, warm cum spurting on your hand and the edge of the desk, in between your thighs. “Fuck… thank you, darling.” He sighs, unwrapping the condom from the packet and slipping it around his cock.

“God, Armin.” You whimpered when he slid his cock up and down your slit, tip bumping against your clit with each slip. Armin’s hand kept your thighs pried as he positioned himself to enter the crown of his cock past your hole.

You nearly screeched, lips parting, fingernails etching onto Armin’s shoulder blades. ”Shh, shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ll be as slow as you need to.” He captures you by the lips, comforting you as you engulf him whole. Whining into the kiss, his warm hand caressed your tear-stained cheek, thumb swiping away the tear that rolled down your face.

A few inches in and you weren’t moaning into his mouth because of the burning sensation, it became bearable— pleasurable. Armin was being as careful as he could, his chest nearly touching yours as he bottomed you out.

“Ready?”

“Yes…” And with that, he drags his girth out your hole, until it was only his tip stretching you. One slam of his hips and you were forced to choke in your moans, a hand keeping your thighs apart while the other hoists your skirt up your waist. If he could be honest, he wished you weren’t being modest with making noise. In his drunk point-of-view, who would even care that the CEO’s two secretaries are screwing in their office when everyone else is having their own fun outside?

You muttered curses while he drilled into you, his hips not too fast that it was painful, but not too sluggish that you were left bored. Armin pressed soft pecks on your jawline, hand sneaking up and fondling with your breast, nipple in between his fingers.

“Ah- mm— hah- Armin-“ You cry, his free palm wrapping around your ankle and bending it towards you, one knee against your chest. Armin’s face was warm, eyes nearly brimmed with tears to how good your pussy felt.

He groans, grabbing your chin to pull your eyes on him without faltering the speed of hips. “How does it feel having me take your virginity, hm?” He knew how you felt judging by the way your face is making that fucked out expression, drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth, but he wanted to hear it.

Quivering, you whisper as he lets go of your face, “I love it, I love it s’much.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Greedy bastard, he totally heard it. Your slick frothed and pooled on the wooden luster of the desk, coating his cock while his balls pressed up against the base of your ass with each thrust.

Your ankle felt a bruising pain with his tight grip, your nails clawing on his back while you raised your voice, feeding into his covetous desires. “Armin—! Fuck, I love it. It’s- it’s so good, baby please.” You’re practically babbling nonsense, words slurred and barely coherent.

With each slam, the desk rumbled, pens and organized documents plummeting off the desk and scattering all over the carpet floor. Your hand went up to cup his face, thumb pressing on his lips and in his mouth. His tongue swirled around your finger, humming while you struggled to keep still.

“Hah- yes, yes… taking me so well,” Armin praises, forehead clashing against yours, hunching himself over to lick your lips open and slip his tongue in. You took a fist full of his hair to pull him closer, your body leaning back until you were laying on the table, legs pulled to rest against his shoulders. Each slam of his cock progressively turned rougher, his thighs slapping on the back of yours as he threw his head back, the evening glow gleaming through the curtains and on his Adam’s apple glossed with sweat.

It’s as if your walls were molded just for him, you were so good, pussy clamping onto his cock like a goddamn champ. Armin mumbles without his hips faltering, “Would it be okay if- if I change it up?”

“Yes— holy, fuck—“ You were folded in half, Armin pushing the back of your thighs. It was getting harder to breathe, but he put you in a position that allowed him to plunge his cock deeper, penetrating your g-spot. Your body is tense, teeth sinking on your bottom lip while Armin kept a tight push on your thighs, his eyes glued to how your creamy cunt stretches nicely for him. Using the tips of your finger to relieve the ache of your clit, you yelped, a stream of liquid spurting out of your hole.

“Fuck… you fucking squirted…” He groans, leaning back down to kiss you as he cums. He lets go of your exhausted legs, hands now cupping and massaging your boobs to help you come down from the intense stimulation. Your breathing stuttered when he pulled out to take his condom off, your lower half feeling numb and limp.

“Thank you, Armin,” You whisper.

“Of course, love.” He chuckles.

You’re aware that it has already begun, you started something you know you shouldn’t have, but nevertheless—

It’s the next morning, Saturday, meaning you’re off.

Eyes slowly snapping open, your brain immediately went into panic mode. You weren’t in your apartment and your body felt like it got hit by a truck. The room you’re in was unfamiliar, it was in the color pearl as opposed to your creme walls and the decor was off too– it’s not suited to your taste. Your eyes wandered to see picture frames on the white oak nightstand of Arlert, Mr. Jaeger, and their family.

Arlert… Mr. Jaeger… wait.

“Good morning.” A voice interrupted your train of thought. It was Arlert, carrying a tray with a bowl of warm soup and a glass of water. Hardly remembering how you ended up here, you just nodded as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand and handing you the glass of water.

You held the cup with both your hands, and took a sip, clearing your throat, then asking, “Um… so how did I end up here? Don’t tell me I went batshit insane and-“

“We slept together.” He cuts you off, the water almost splashing out of the glass as you were taking your second sip.

Those words immediately struck you and you were able to recover some patches of yesterday’s events. Specifically the part where you threw yourself at him.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

This isn’t right, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He’s your co-worker, your work partner. Sure, you have feelings for him but that was supposed to be suppressed.

The silence felt too thick even for Arlert. “I figured you wouldn’t be able to come home by yourself after all that, so I took you to my place. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

You weren’t angry nor disappointed at him. You felt stupid that you could barely remember the first time you had sex. Your memory is so fogged, you forgot everything past when you kissed him. Plus, he’s the president’s son. If word gets out, you’d be lucky if the company just lets you go quietly. No, rumors will start to spread about how you were just sleeping around to get to your current position. You’ve worked too hard to prove yourself competent, you’re not going to risk everything just for some temporary fun.

Eventually composing yourself, you take your belongings from the lounge chair next to you and slip your shoes on, as hard as they already are to walk on without the ache on your legs. “I’m sorry… uh- can we pretend this never happened?” Maybe you should’ve worded it more nicely.

In a perfect world, it would’ve been nice to entertain the idea of having a relationship with Arlert. He’s smart, handsome, and he’s quite caring once he lets you in his personal bubble.

Armin’s heart sunk, his mouth shaping from a smile to a blank stare. “What do you mean ‘pretend it never happened’?”

“You know… that it was null and void.” You purse your lips, leaving him with that cruel statement while you flee the room with your head hung low.

You couldn’t bear to look at him after saying those harsh words, he didn’t even bother to run after you.

But that’s that, you tell yourself as you hopped in the elevator. Maybe you’ll just take a few days off of work and hope for the best.

You’re aware that there’s no turning back no matter what you say. Nevertheless—

Needless to say that you couldn’t skip work after the weekend that felt like lasted forever. Jaeger will end up interrogating you, and you’d rather not make it obvious that you’re avoiding a certain someone.

Arlert didn’t show any signs of concern, he treated you the same way and gave you your desired space. You did the same, making sure no one will suspect anything, which went on for a few consecutive weeks.

He’d constantly try to approach you after work, but you’d always excuse yourself first and hurry down to your vehicle to get away as soon as possible. You’ve dug yourself a hole by saying you never want anything to do with him again, ashamed of yourself for not remembering what had happened that night.

Even so, fate is always somehow always against your wishes, thus Eren assigned you both to travel for the weekend since his terminally ill grandfather wished for a specific kind of bread only available at a bakery 4 hours away from town. You offered if you could just do the task yourself since it’s just bread, but Jaeger insisted on having Arlert by your side to secure your safety.

Neither of you could refuse, it is Arlert’s grandfather and it’s part of your job to aid him out of respect as he’s the former president.

You drove there right after work, in a separate car from Arlert. The drive was silent besides the mellow jazz from the aux. Your fingers were tight on the steering wheel, barely able to relax the whole way there as you’re about to spend the weekend alone with him.

It was around midnight when you got to the hotel, Jaeger offered to book a room since he has some connections with the owner. Arlert had already arrived, waiting for you in the front, glancing at his watch then up to see you walking to the front steps.

“Would you like dinner first before we check in?” He offers, hand rubbing the back of his head.

“Uh…” you were planning on making some excuse, but your stomach said otherwise.

You’re here for work after all, not for some cheesy romance bullshit.

You grin meekly. “Sure.”

Dinner was quiet, yet uncomfortable. You had it right in the hotel, the menu prices almost got your heart to flat line, but Arlert slipped a company credit card out of his pocket to assure you.

You barely spoke, the only conversation you really had was about the meeting today, nothing outside of work.

The sounds of silverware clanking on the ceramic plates and other people’s chattering filled your ears, soon interrupted when Arlert blurted out, “So um, Eren only booked a one bed-room on accident. I’ll stay on the sofa and you can take the bed.”

You kept silent, acknowledging him by nodding, but for some reason you felt unsatisfied that he’d rather sleep on the couch than share a bed with you, even though it’s clear that he’s respecting your wishes. It’s agitating — enough that you wanted to blurt what you’re feeling right here and now.

“Arlert-“

“It’s okay. ‘Just pretend nothing ever happened’, right? You don’t have to feel like you have to avoid me anymore.” He didn’t even make eye contact, blue eyes latched onto the slab of steak in front of him.

You’ve never felt so conflicted in your life. All the signals in your brain is telling you that it’s best that he’s drawing the line, but something in within you is saying to fuck all of that.

When you finished eating, you got your luggage from your car and went ahead of Arlert to go to the room first. It just happened to be 6 stories high, spacious with a huge king-sized bed, the window overlooking the unfamiliar city.

Placing your bag on the ground, the door behind you opened and it was him.

The quaint pair of glasses sitting gracefully on top of his nose bridge, complexion calm and collected, yet was filled with solitude.

You really couldn’t take having to tighten the lid of your feelings anymore.

It’s over. You know this, but nevertheless—

“Wow the view is nice huh?” He tried initiating small talk, sauntering towards the window. You followed behind, pulling his arm, then pushing him against the cold glass, hands on his wrists. He neither seemed startled nor irritated. Just that same stoic look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Armin… I just- ugh. I don’t remember anything.” You sigh.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

You didn’t have a tight grip on him, but he didn’t retaliate. You continue rambling. “I only remember a little bit of sleeping with you that night, but… but… aghhh! I know how frustrating this is for you, but god this has been killing me for the past week now. I just- I’ve been trying so hard to hide how I really feel about you, but now I just feel like I fucked everything up.”

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing against your cheekbone. “You’re adorable, you know?”

You exhale, “And also… what if everyone else thinks I’m some ladder climbing whore?”

“I won’t let them do that to you, I promise. You’re the smartest, most reliable woman I know, I’ll make sure that’s how everyone else perceives you.” His flattery is tugging on your heartstrings, a slight smile forming on your complexion.

“So did you actually mean what you said earlier about pretending like it never happened?” You frown.

“Let’s make that null and void.” You felt like you were able to breathe again when he finally kissed you, one arm wrapped around your waist to push you against his body and the other on the back of your head.

You stumble towards the bed backwards, unaware of whatever else is happening besides the pair of lips clashing onto yours, breathing heavily through your nose. He quickly pulls away to toss his glasses to the side while you work on tugging his tie off, then undoing the buttons of his linen top.

Armin expertly popped the buttons out of your top and you shimmy your way out of it, leaving the both of you topless. You tripped on the mattress, back landing on the plush surface, Armin pinning you down with both his arms.

“From now on,” He presses a soft kiss on your neck, “I’ll make sure you remember everything.”

While he nibbles on your earlobe, you tease, “I’ll be keeping my expectations up.” You wiggle your way towards the huge headboard, suddenly holding onto Armin’s biceps and swiveling them to make your way on top of him, legs folded on either side of his thighs.

“You sure you can handle it?” He chuckles, face lit with fervor. You unclamp the button of his trousers, sliding them down, leaving him with only his boxers on. A dark splotch of precum was apparent on his underwear, the fat of his boner melding through his boxers.

You palm his clothed cock, cupping and eliciting sharp gasps from him. “Arlert, I wanna suck you off,” Already crawling with one knee in between his legs, he grabbed onto your wrist and paused you.

“Hold on.” He shuffled himself until he was laying on his back, your expression painted with slight confusion. “If you insist, sit on my face while you suck my dick.” His grin showed pure malice, as if he’s been dreaming about your pussy suffocating him.

You’ve seen what he just described in porn you come across on your twitter timeline, except you don’t have the self-confidence to push your whole weight down on someone’s face.

“Um- are you sure? That sounds uncomfortable…” You ponder, hand now grasped beneath the sheets from anxiety. This whole thing is still so new to you, it’s so nerve wracking knowing that someone else is taking the effort to make you feel good.

Armin reassures, reaching his arm out to turn on the table side lamp next to him. “Does it look like I care about that? Come on, let me give you a good time, hm? If you don’t like it, we’ll stop.”

There’s no harm in trying. Armin has been so sweet and careful knowing that you don’t have a lot of experience, assuring that you’re receiving the best of the best.  And it’s not as if he’s not getting perks of his own. He’s still wondering how no one else has taken you up and given you what you deserved.

First off, you’re pretty. Often clad in a tight white button-up, see through enough to the point where he can see the color of your bra strap if he takes the effort to stare. He also knows the days you alternate between skirts and pants. Not on purpose of course, but he sees you everyday and he’s a meticulous person, it’s easy for him to notice patterns.

It’s perverted, he knows, but he can’t help it. That’s why he’s so nervous whenever you’re around that his hands get sweaty and he frequently has to twist his tie to cool down.

Plus, you’re the dopest person he knows. Ambitious, self-serving, never takes shit from anyone. You also didn’t kiss Eren’s ass to get to your position which isn’t necessarily common in the company where kissing up might as well be part of the job.

So it’s nice to see you under that veil, where you’re so frail and whiny all of a sudden because he’s too fucking big for your unstretched cunt. Where he got to take a picture in his brain of every second of that night– how you look like under your clothes, nipples prickled hard from the breeze of the AC while he fucked your brains out.

You stand on the mattress, carefully pulling your slacks down then curling your finger under your bra strap to slip it off one shoulder, then the other. Your breasts bounced out of its confinements and Armin observed as you knelt and swung your legs so that one would be on each side of his head.

Swallowing hard, you stared at his navy boxers, smeared with precum, the outline of his cock prominent under the fabric. Your thighs were trembling, the air was cold and you felt a pair of eyes piercing its gaze towards the wet splotch apparent on your panties.

Armin took the crotch part of your underwear and pulled it to the side, your pussy already puffy, folds glossed with slick. He grasps your waist and gently pulls you lower, closer to his face, and he sticks his tongue out until the tip bumped your clit.

Meanwhile, you’re shuffling to pull his boxers down, just enough for his cock to spring out, the head swollen and leaking with translucent, thick precum. You wrap your palm around the base, just above his balls, suddenly hissing at Armin teasing your clit. “Fuck, Armin… “ You laughed off the sting of his wet tongue, but you were getting a little frustrated.

And Armin can tell. “Baby, you know I can’t reach you if you don’t sit on my face properly right? Just relax, you have nothing to worry about.” He chuckles, practically lying through his teeth because he knows damn well of what he’s capable of.

Hesitantly, you placed more weight on top of his face as you slid your hand up his cock and rolled your tongue out where a ball of spit coated the head. Your back arched into a firm bow, a response of pain when he sank two of his fingers inside you. “It- it hurts.” A low hiss crept past your lips, just right on the head of his cock.

“Does that mean you want to stop?” Armin was being polite, but him drooling on your cunt shows nothing but pure spite.

Squirming, you whisper. “No… I need more. Stop teasing.” Your ass was aching from your position, mouth practically pressed against the length of his dick. He sighs, his breath fanning against the heat of your cunt. Your bossy attitude provoked a laugh out of him, he thought it was cute.

After chuckling, he jests, “Agh, I guess I can’t deny a pretty girl like you.” Those words wrapped your heart in a warm blanket, it felt so sweet and nourishing even if he meant it sexually.

That feeling didn’t last long however, he was back to licking your pussy, tongue making its work by slipping along the slit while his lips sucked your clit. You whimpered, your mouth around his cock sending vibrations straight to his balls.

You had never given head, but nonetheless you use this opportunity to try things you’ve seen in porn. Caving your cheeks in, you take slow steps in taking more of his cock in your mouth, saliva dripping all over his dick.

Armin noticed what you were trying to do and was ready to stop you in case you gag, but he could feel you getting closer to your orgasm as your legs shook around his head and the louder your moans got. So instead, he encourages you by sticking a third finger in your hole and fucked it in and out while groaning under you. Your throat constricted the more you took of him, up until the tip nearly punched the back of your throat.

Grinding on his face, you were practically seeing stars, more so when Armin curled his fingers inside you, tipping you over the edge. A stream of fluid projectiles past his head and onto the plush pillow. A sharp gasp was emitted from your throat when you pulled away, a twine of saliva connecting your lips and his tip, your hand continuing on jerking him off.

“Fuck, Armin, fuck, you make me so horny, hah…” At this point, you were just spitting out what you had in mind, words that you’d never typically say out loud.

But he took those words to heart.

He grins, voice slightly muted as you rock your hips on his face. “Oh yeah? Can you do that f’me again then?” The wet plump of his lips sucked on your tender clit, his fingers only picking up in pace. You tried your best to pump your hand as fast as you could, your tongue sticking out and teasing his leaking fat cock head.

The topic of sex was something you rather avoided. You enjoyed hearing about your friends’ sex lives but you always thought they were just sugarcoating for bragging points. Watching porn didn’t have that much of an effect either, sometimes you get so turned off when the man is too aggressive or when the woman is moaning too loud.

But with Armin? Your first time felt like a reenactment of a steamy smut scene in those romance novels. He holds onto you, reassures you, and makes sure that you don’t feel belittled because you’re lacking in experience. You always thought that the process of losing your virginity would be painful, but this is only your second time and you're already addicted.

Armin was panting, his body shifting underneath you. “Oh god, oh god, fuck—! Oh—“ He yelps, broken strings of cum spewing out and onto your lips, which you licked off. His cock twitched while your hand faltered in speed.  

You weren’t far from cumming yourself, Armin’s fingers were slipping in with ease, the combination of that and his tongue ejecting a mess out of you, a porn-worthy moan bouncing off the walls of the room. Your slick ran on your thighs, Armin still kitten licking your clit, evoking a weak giggle from you. “That’s it… Just like that…” He praises.

Rolling off him and onto the mattress you laid down in disbelief as you were coming down from your high. Armin sat up and plopped beside you, your heads on the foot of the bed. Strands of his blonde hair were stuck on his forehead, chin gleamed with arousal against the city lights from the window view. “Are you tired?” He asks, staring at the blank ceiling.

You turn your body sideways, facing him. “Not really. Are you?” He rolls to the side and positions you so he could hover above you. Hunching down, he goes in for a sweet kiss, the bubbling feeling in your stomach flaring up.

While remaining embraced, arms hooked around his neck to keep his face close, he pulled off, his thumb drawing circles on your cheekbone.

“I want it… I want you.” You mumble, desperation dragging in each syllable of your words. Despite your memory not cooperating, your body was yearning for more.

“Are you sure? I don’t have a condom with me.”

“Can’t you just… pull out?” You raise the question, eyebrows raising in curiosity of his answer.

“Is that really what you want though?” Armin is aware that asking too many questions can turn you away from wanting to continue on any more, but he can’t go on without the assurance that he isn’t forcing you to do something you don’t really want to do.

You nod timidly.

Armin lightens up the mood, chuckling, “Only the second time and you’re already asking for it raw? You’re so ambitious.”

“Only with you.” You laugh along with him, face flushed with heat.

Only with him, you can feel this comfortable with being naked and saying whatever was on your mind. Romance-wise, your relationship with him is still fresh, but the feelings already had a seed in your heart.

“I always liked you, you know.” Armin doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying and why now, but for some reason he felt that this was the best time to do so.

“Yeah? How so?” You tease, arms still locked around his neck.

“I don’t know, it just happened. Maybe it’s because you’re so cool and you kinda intimidated me.” He confesses, his arms still caging you in between.

“What do you think of me now?” The room was eerily quiet, as if you two were the only ones living on the planet and nothing else mattered.

He ponders, “Still cool… not as intimidating… beautiful…” looking you in the eye, you snuck him in for a heated kiss before he could comprehend what was happening, tongue slipping in between his lips and clashing with his tongue.

Whimpering against your mouth, he was jerking himself off for lubrication, nudging his cock in between your folds quickly before parting from you shortly to pull your panties off completely, tossing it on the floor. He’s sliding in slowly, but it’s difficult when your cunt is sucking him in so good.

It was different this time; you’re taking a mental note of each second of this moment, the stretching burn as his cock dragged along your tight walls, his lips smashed against yours, his choppy breathing in between kisses…

As soon as he was fully inside of you, he placed your ankles against his shoulders and bent down, staring at your pleasured face. Mouth agape and eyes blank, he caressed your cheek with his finger while snapping his hips on yours. Your nails dug on his back, crescent shaped marks engraved on his skin.

“Armin… so deep…” You’re mewling, his cock sinking into your hole, leaving your legs numb as he folded you in half. He only hackled a chuckle; the more you moaned, the more he was encouraged to thrust faster and deeper.

The smack! of your wet cunt against Armin’s balls and the heavy breathing were the only noises in the muted room. Armin was utterly obsessed — obsessed with everything about you. Even the way your teeth ram into your bottom lip because his cock is fucking into you so deliciously is something he wants to replay in his mind over and over.

“You’re so pretty darling, squeezing onto me so well, hah-“ He wasn’t going to lie, he hadn’t planned on doing this tonight; otherwise, maybe he would’ve been more prepared. Armin really doesn’t mind staying in between your legs all night, but god is he fucking addicted on doing you raw. Your throat strained, whines becoming fuller while you spat out sweet nothings about how he’s making you feel so good.

Armin leaned back, observing your boobs bouncing in sync with his thrusts, your hands going up to knead and massage them. He held onto your legs, eyes traveling to your glistening cunt engulfing his dick, reveling in the feeling of his cock rutting into your most sensitive spot.

Reaching forward to squeeze your nipples in between his fingers to rouse you up, you whimpered quietly, “ ‘m so close…” Your eyes were shut, breathing jagged with each rock of his hips.

“God— yes, do it for me, schatzi.” His mother tongue slipped out the more his mind was hazed and could barely keep a lucid thought that wasn’t filthy. Your eyes squeezed shut, body tense when you came, legs twitching and lips muttering his name.

Armin was on the verge of cumming as well, letting go of your legs to pull out, pumping into his fist before forgetting to do so. He came on your tits, long strings of white, translucent cum on your lithe skin as he groaned under his breath. Slumber was running all over your veins, the temptation of sleep taunting you.

He hops off the bed and sits next to your head. “Baby, we should clean up. We have a long day tomorrow.” He pokes your cheek.

You were sore as you followed him to the ivory bathroom, and into the unnecessarily huge glass paned shower. Armin twisted the knob for warm water and he did the honors of washing your body, hands travelling all over you, cupping your breasts although it didn’t feel inherently sexual. He trailed kisses all over the back of your neck and your back as the water ran down your bodies.

Twisting your head, you laced your fingers with his own and you locked your lips against his before whispering, “I like you too.”

Giggles and kisses were shared prior to going back to bed, both of you were too infatuated to figure out that this is way out of your routines and character, considering that this is an HR violation and god forbid if other people find out.

Nevertheless…

There’s no turning back.

schatzi is an endearment term in german according to various sources. literally means treasure, but can be used as ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’.

[magnetic-braincells]

Too Old?

Fem!Reader x Kim • One-shot

Warnings: Slight gerontophile themes, overall sfw, unrequited attraction. Cursing. Violence. Mental struggles. Read till the end! I swear you come to your senses.

Word count: 5k+

I wasn’t expecting to be walking outside a government building around six pm, but here I was.

Files in my hands, I was trying to my best to be an ideal intern. All I had to do was transfer some papers and I’d be done for the day. So that’s what I did. I handed the papers to a woman in the lobby, and opted to go through the building to the parking lot. The thing is I’m not great at remembering directions. The nice lady gave me clear instructions that seem to evaporate in my head the moment I began walking away. I was a senior in college. Just trying to get through my internship hoping to get a job as a secretary or some sh*t. I was interning for an office job here at a government building. I had no idea about any bad apples employed there until that day. I must’ve taken a wrong turn. My introversion didn’t want to ask for directions, and my extroversion decided to find a way out myself. I turned into a hallway, and— hardly stopping myself— almost slammed into a man.

“Sorry,” I said, ducking towards the other side of the hall. The apology wasn’t enough for him, apparently. “Watch where you’re going-!” He barked. It did make me flinch, I’ll admit. I stopped in my tracks, almost feeling a little annoyed. Yeah… I apologized. What happened to manners? I turned to the man, taking in his appearance. Tall, a little brutish. I caught sight of some pins that no doubt meant something important. Damn. If this guy is of some significance, maybe I should’ve keep my mouth shut. At least, that’s what I thought.

“Sorry, I will.”

I turned to walk away still a little put off. Then I felt his hand clasp around my wrist and yank me backwards. I did yelp, and curse at him— heat of the moment sort of a thing

“Show some respect, b*tch,” he breathed. His breath smelt like smoke. Very unpleasant.

I wiggled away from him, slamming my heel into his toe. The officer raised his hand to grab me, and I was prepared with a mouthful of profanity and slander but… Before I could get in another word, I pressed into something warm and hard. Really solid. I stumbled forward.

That’s when I saw him. I had to crane my neck up/down (your height) to really look at him. Must’ve been 6’2. Glasses. Not the neatest hair, but it was still elegant. An angel? A demon? He looked like both. He sort of was.

The new stranger sort of— completely- ignored me. I swallowed a thick lump in my throat. It was partially out of nervousness, but I was also swallowing down a million insults. He stared at the officer. An expression of anger, possibly indifference.

“You should go.”

That was all he said. Three words. I walked away down the hall, a little confused. Words were still caught in my throat that would never get out. The hallway didn’t lead outside. There were familiar rooms, though. I could find my way out, but I hesitated. I wanted to wait. I wanted to thank that man for… sort of stepping in. At least, I think that’s what he did. It didn’t matter though. I stood idly against the wall, waiting for the older man to reappear.

When he did, he looked different. He had more purpose to his walk, and he had some papers in his hand. I noticed, too, that his hands were red.

“S-Sir—?” Since when did I stammer? Social anxiety was finally creeping in? I thought I was over this.

He stopped, casting a sharp glance over at me. His hardened features and cold look softened a bit. It wasn’t very noticeable, and maybe I was just searching for some sort of reaction. His glasses glinted and he was silent.

“Thank you. For stepping in back there,” I finished. My cheeks felt warm.

He kept quiet. The corners of his lips perked upward a little. Barely at all. He didn’t nod, didn’t hum in acknowledgment. He just turned and kept walking.

To me, nothing could have been more attractive.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I spent the rest of the night eating, getting ready for the next day, and thinking about that encounter. Sure, I only saw the guy for a minute or two at most, but that was the most exciting thing that had happened to me all month. No, I didn’t like being grabbed or having to mouth off my superior who I’d never met. But that man… the one with the nice hair and the glasses… he was just one of those guys. Not overly handsome, but not bad to look at. The kind of person who gets stapled into your mind. I wondered what he was doing there in the first place. How old was he.

More questions kept flooding my head the next day and the day after that. Actually, this was becoming a problem. I couldn’t get the guy out of my mind and I had no idea why.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Sogin High School. I graduated from there and am a certified alumni. I was headed there, probably four days after the incident. Normally I wouldn’t spent my free day visiting my old school, but a teacher had called me up and asked me to come. I decided to humor her. She had been a nice teacher anyways. The campus was still the same. The elitists ran rampant, like always. I sort of felt sorry for the poor children stuck in their immature high school years. I had bigger problems. I was still immature too I guess. My thoughts would wander to the man every now and then. I looked for him in crowds. Part of me felt disappointed about his seeming disregard for me and my gratitude.

I looked for his face amongst the crowd of high schoolers. Passing by the old classrooms and intermingling with my underclassman felt weird. I kept close to my teacher pal, but ended up wandering off.

“It was nice to see you, (Y/N),” she had said. It had come as a surprise to her to see me as a twenty-three-year old. She was probably expecting my face to be more/less mature (any baby faced readers out there??)

“You too, Ms Han,” I answered. I meant it, but being around her warm and smiley face was giving me painful flashbacks to my acne-prone days, and her personality was a little stuffy after a while. It was nice to escape.

I walked towards some of my old classrooms. As I peered into a classroom, I caught sight of a lone girl. A sophomore- carrying way more books than she could handle. Oh school projects. I didn’t miss those at all. I was always awkward about offering help, especially to strangers. My internship was prompting me to step out of my shell though.

“Uh… do you need some help?” I called. She looked up at me. She seemed familiar, features graceful and delicate. I’d never met her before though. Her lips parted as she nodded. I’m guessing it was obvious that I was an alumni. “Yes— please!”

I walked into the classroom fully, approaching her desk that was completely emerged in the sunlight. If I remembered correctly, I’d say my desk was two seats behind hers. I scooped up half of her heaping books. the girl couldn’t even fit them all in her backpack. This must be some research project.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” I offered. She staggered upright with the rest of the books in hand.

“Oh… and I’m Minji Kim. Nice to meet you,” she replied, a little breathless. She added a small thank you, which I thought was sweet.

She walked home. I accompanied her. I wasn’t in any hurry to get back to my college dorm and I had already said my goodbyes to my old teacher, Ms Han. We walked down a few blocks, exchanging a few words. I handed her the rest of her books as soon as her house was in sight.

“Thanks for your help!” She gushed. Nice girl. I waved it off and began to turn around, but I stopped. That’s when I saw him again.

This time in casual clothes, peering out of one of the houses, looking a little damp and rumpled, but relaxed. It caught me off guard— all I could do was stare wordlessly and question every life decision I ever made. He called for Minji to come inside (so they knew each other-?), and even waved at me. He didn’t even recognize me… I don’t think. I waved back. A feeling of warmth pounded through my body and filled my cheeks. The walk back to the school parking lot was very disoriented. I stumbled over my shoes and almost crashed into a cyclist. I wasn’t expecting to see him again. It was a really odd coincidence. Too odd for me. It didn’t sit well in my stomach.

My inner musings about the man, who I now dubbed Mr Kim, became more frequent. I had seen him twice. It felt like having an airport crush sort of. Only you booked the same hotel as your airport crush, or something similar. It plagued me to the point that, the next day at my internship, I asked about him. He must’ve been at the office for one reason or another. It was possible that he worked there.

“Hey… Chae-Won?” I asked my mentor who was way too invested in reapplying her lipstick. She glanced over at me and absently straightened some papers, still preening at herself in the reflection of her computer screen. “Was there a Mr Kim visiting last week?” I began. I cringed in realization that Kim is a very common last name. Something flashed over her face. “Uh, there was an incident with a Mr Kim, if that’s what you mean. I think you were headed home though.” “Does he work here?” I pressed. “No? Why do you ask?”

I resorted to telling her there was no reason.

It wasn’t as if he was plaguing my thoughts. I don’t know why he bothered me so much. I started to drop it a little. Life moves on. I wasn’t obsessed. I steamed some rice that night and binged a drama. Anything to get my mind off “Mr Kim” was a relief. He was giving me a headache, and at the same time making me hot in the face. I kept wondering how old he was. He was older. He was courser and colder. He had stepped into a very minor interaction at my intern workplace. There was nothing notable about what he did.

But still bothered me though. He hadn’t accepted my thanks, not really. I had seen a reaction, but a very slight one.

I tried to recall how his voice sounded as I clumsily shoved a mouthful of rice into my mouth. The heat burned the roof of my mouth, actually, and I had to spit it out. My daydreams about that guy were actually interfering with my eating habits, which wasn’t good. Anyway- he had only said three words to me, tops. You should go. It was enough to make my heartbeat pick up pace.

I was actually a little worried, at that point. If this guy was going to haunt my thoughts until he accepted the damn “thank you,” then I was going to have to see him and make him accept it.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I ended up back in the sophomore classroom. “Can I ask you something?” I said suddenly.

This conversation was going to be a little awkward. I could feel my embarrassment already creeping in. This wasn’t going to blow over well. Minji blinked, nodding her head. “How old is uh… Mr Kim?”

“My dad?”

That already wasn’t a good sign. It should have been a red flag. Alarms should have been blaring in my head, but they weren’t. My infatuation was still growing. Color was visible in my neck. I nodded, leaning forward onto my desk.

“He’s forty nine I’m pretty sure. We don’t really talk about it…” Minji answers. I can tell she doesn’t have an endless amount of friends. Most people wouldn’t answer that weird question anyway. Minji was just more naïve than most people?

“Oh,” I breathed. I don’t find his age attractive. I didn’t find it bothersome either. Why did I feel so bashful? I had barely seen him. In my head, I knew I would chose a forty nine year old over any guy my age.

“How old are you?” Minji asked. It startled me.

“Twenty three. You?” “Eighteen.”

Our conversation continued. My mind wandered elsewhere, which didn’t surprise me anymore. I tuned into Minji whenever possible. I was developing some weird ignoring disorder or something. She asked me if I could walk home with her and I agreed.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

My pulse thrummed audibly in my ears. I realized I really admired the way his glasses framed his face.

“This is (Y/N) (L/N). She’s an alumni from my school,” Minji announced. She seemed a little bashful about introducing me to her dad.

It should have been off-putting, but it wasn’t really. I could see his eyes gloss over with familiarity. There’s a face everyone can pull when they recognize a stranger. A subtle shift of acknowledgement; hey, I’ve seen you before.

He said hullo. I could tell he wasn’t super talkative. It didn’t really surprise me, actually. He didn’t seem like the loud type. I said hello back. I was completely aware of the color in my cheeks. My goodbye was short and brisk, but neither Kim seemed to mind.

That walk back to the car was filled with more uncertainty. Why hadn’t I thanked him? I wasn’t sure. I wanted an excuse to see him again, I guess. I was attracted to the demeanor. The certainty. The subtle shift in personality. The damnable glasses and the damnable hair. Forty nine didn’t register in my head as too old. All I could think about was how he looked less like a demon and more like an angel now. My heart hammered pathetically in my chest.

The weekend came and went. I busied myself with other things, even hung out with my dorm mates at a party. I told one of them about my first encounter with Mr Kim… but kept the Minji-meetings to myself. It was a coincidence, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t understand.

“Didn’t your coworker say Mr Kim was in an incident?” They asked, taking a slow sip from their Bloody Mary. It didn’t dawn on me that I had already mentioned that to them. Sheepishness washed over me. But after I recovered from my embarrassment I came to realize the weight to their words. That’s right… Chae-Won had mentioned an incident involving Mr Kim. I had been too embarrassed and distracted to ask for elaboration. “Yeah, she did,” I nodded slowly, leaning my head against the couch we sat on. My friend raised an eyebrow and cocked their head. “Couldn’t that be a bad thing?” They ask.

I keep my lips sealed. A blush rises to my cheeks. I hadn’t thought of that. Even in my delusional state, I didn’t even consider him causing a scene over me. There had to be some reason he was at the office, and there had to be some reason his hands were red when he left. I only remembered that then at the party. It’s funny how details slip from your mind for a while until you suddenly remember them. I decided to ask Chae-Won about the incident.

I hadn’t encountered my superior since that day. He was a military officer- so it wasn’t unusual for people like him to frequent the building. That man in particular, though, had been absent. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was on Mr Kim’s bad side though. He had gotten on mine.

At the office, while my mentor was patiently explaining how to use a certain filing system in the computer, I couldn’t help but stare down at my wrist. There was no mark from where the officer grabbed me. I had reported it though. As Chae-Won droned on, I had trouble focusing on her words. They slipped through her lips and seemed to fade into the background. “Uh, Chae-Won…”

“Were you paying attention?” She snapped. I felt guilt crawling into my stomach. “I— you sort of lost me. Sorry.”

She sighed. A break; that’s what she suggested. I closed my eyes and kneaded my forehead. This internship wasn’t the most interesting thing ever.

“I heard you were involved in the little scrap the other week.” Chae-Won’s voice prodded me out of my trance. I looked up at her with wide eyes. “You must still be shaken up about it, huh?” She asks. There’s a hint of concern in her eyes, but I get the feeling that whatever I tell her will just give her gossiping rights more than anything. “Yeah. I still don’t understand what happened in the ‘scrap’ though,” I use air quotations to emphasize my point. “Did Mr Kim say something to the officer?”

“Officer Baek? Yeah? He was in the ER. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt!” My stomach didn’t plummet. The color didn’t drain from my face. My eyes didn’t widen. Instead, my heartbeat picked up. A lot. An intense heat overflowed my body. Kim walked away. I thanked him… and he walked away.

Three words echod in my head. “You should go.”

The age gap never resonated as a problem to me. All that mattered was that I backed into a demonic-angel- pressed against his tall and sturdy form- and he told me to go. When I thanked him he hardly batted an eye. He walked away.

That was attractive to me.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I texted Minji if I could see her the next day. I figured that I could tell her about meeting her dad already. Again, the thought of mg underclassman being the daughter of my recent obsession didn’t bother me. I was even bold enough to admit it was an obsession, but only to myself. She replied with a nice confirmation text and that was that. I crawled into the covers that night and braced myself for the next day. The normal routine. My eyes roamed across the room as my imagination ran wild. I wondered what kind of argument Mr Kim had gotten into with officer… Baek? Officer Baek. What had happened. What kind of man was Mr Kim, besides attractive. I noted that I found his attitude and the way he carried himself attractive. Within our brief encounters, he always remained quiet and curt. Polite around Minji, of course. I guess my daydreams had sort of drifted off track. I wondered what kind of job he had. Maybe a security officer? Or maybe something else… a little more ordinary. I couldn’t make up my mind, so I fell asleep.

As soon as my classes were over, I got into my car and started driving towards my old school. Rain started pattering on my windshield. I always did love a dramatic atmosphere. Now no one could judge me for playing my bad*as Spotify playlist on the way over. I realized that Minji probably wasn’t out of school yet, which caused my stomach to jolt. I told her I’d meet her at her place. I could only hope she had an umbrella.

As much as my heart throbbed at the thought of seeing Mr Kim a little early, my intrusive anxious thoughts told me to go get some coffee. A nice steamy drink to help warm my cold feet. When I pulled into the drive thru for a coffee shop I ended up ordering three drinks subconsciously. It was probably my intern instincts kicking in. I had grown used to running out for really unnecessary coffee orders. My autopilot brain just told me to order some for the people I was seeing. I spewed out some nonsense I thought Minji might like. My face felt warmer as I ordered something more simple and straightforward for Mr Kim.

The drinks steamed in the cup holder as I drove towards their house. I almost drove right by, but I ended up pulling over and rolling down my window.

“Minji! Get in!”

What a good alumni I am, right?! The kid was walking without an umbrella, trying to shield herself with her backpack. As soon as she got in the car I shoved the drink into her hands.

She apologized for being so imprudent or some sh*t. I didn’t care. I was just glad I ran into her. Anyway, I wasn’t about to scold her. That was never in the job description. “Do you want me to turn the heat on?”

“T-That’s okay! Thank you. I’ll just shower at home,” she gushed, pulling her lips away from the cup. I was kinda proud of myself for picking a drink she liked. I still felt apprehensive and turned on the heater anyway. I only realized when we got there that I was going to have to be with Mr Kim alone. While Minji was in the shower, that is. Actually, speak of the devil, Mr Kim was about to pick Minji up. He looked a little frantic, but obviously calmed down as soon as we stepped out of the car. I was a little ashamed of myself for noticing the relaxation in his stuff shoulders when he caught sight of her. By no means was I intentionally checking him out; but his hair was looking nice today. “Thanks (Y/N). I’ll be quick!” Minji called. Her feet padded hurriedly between her room and the bathroom. It left me awkwardly standing in the entry hall with the two coffees in hand. Mr Kim closed and locked the door behind us. It shouldn’t have made my face heat up.

I would have started the conversation, but I followed Mr Kim into the kitchen and offered him the coffee instead. I could tell that he wanted to say something anyway. My chest felt really tight. I was going to make him accept my thanks.

“Minji tells me you’re a senior,” he offered, stirring some cream into his coffee. Honestly that was a little uncalled for. The cream, I mean. Who would’ve thought…

“That’s right,” I replied. My face felt warmer than usual. My blush was an unwarranted violation of the subtly-code. “I’m interning right now at a government office. It’s not super interesting, but I wanna help improve the system eventually. Especially with the juvenile prison situation.”

Kim nodded as he replaced the lid on the coffee. I took a sip from my (warm drink) and looked down at the table.

When I looked at Mr Kim, I realized he looked really passive. There wasn’t a trace of embarrassment on his face. I was the only one whose cheeks were burning. He hummed. “And you applied for college fresh out of high school?” I nodded.

“Mhm. I changed my major after the first year. Started interning this year,” I let out an attempt at an easy-going chuckle. “It’s a weird coincidence though. Seeing you at the office, and then meeting your daughter.”

I stared down at my hands, feeling more of a burn in my face. A little disappointment crept into my chest. I was getting around to thanking him again… but he still seemed altogether dispassionate. Would this really make the haunting thoughts and guilt go away? Actually, I was more concerned with the fact that I was really attracted to him. He didn’t seem to give a damn about me.

If I would have looked up, I’d have caught sight of a very suspicious Mr Kim. “Yes, that was… a weird coincidence,” he murmured.

I smiled at the sound of his voice. It had been echoing in my head on-and-off for the past few weeks. You should go. My new favorite phrase— for no special reason at all.

“Mr Kim,” I began. My voice was a little feeble. “I wanted to thank you again, actually. I don’t usually get into encounters like that so… if you hadn’t been there… something worse might’ve happened.”

His gaze flickered down to my wrist, and all he did was nod. I could sense he wasn’t really accepting it now either. Maybe he was just that kind of guy. “Well, I think you could’ve handled yourself,” was all he said.

It was definitely an unusual sight. A twenty-three-year-old, wide eyed, staring at a man twice her age with in awe. Eyes not glancing where they shouldn’t, content to stare at his impassive expression. Normal college students don’t find themselves infatuated with a man they’ve barely met. And there I was.

Minji came into the kitchen, fully dressed. That was the end of me and Mr Kim’s conversation.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

That night, our conversation haunted me. It had nothing to do with our talk and everything to do with the look he had given me. Disinterested… maybe? He was polite and listened respectfully to what I was saying, but I got the feeling like something was off.

I was more attentive to him. My cheeks grew rosy at his words. My expression struggled to maintain impassive politeness and not break into a bashful smile. Mr Kim didn’t seem to have that trouble at all.

He wasn’t as interested in me as I was in him. I thought over what our conversation might’ve looked like to a bystander.

A middle aged man, good-looking and soft spoken, talking with me. A college senior wearing a hoodie and drinking her beverage. A young college student. A stable, capable older man. I guess the scene wasn’t as romantic as I thought. But to me, in the heat of the moment, my chest felt like warm and my stomach felt light. I still felt the warm kiss of a blush at the thought of Kim.

However… I began to doubt something. I wondered dubiously if Mr Kim would ever feel the same level of attraction. I reasoned he probably wouldn’t.

Tears trailed down my face in frustration; I was pretty mad at myself for being so stupid. Of course he wouldn’t. But I couldn’t help it. I was so… so attracted to him.

That night I tossed and turned in bed, wishing I had just asked for directions that fateful day two weeks ago. Even as I regretted the incident and running into Kim, my face still felt hot at the thought of me stumbling backwards into him. I felt jittery recalling his voice. That’s what was so damnable about the situation. I wasn’t normally so easily infatuated or irrational. Mr Kim did something different to me.

Something that, disgustingly enough, didn’t make me alarmed about the age difference. It didn’t matter to me, even though it normally would. I’d be disgusted in myself if it were any other person. But it wasn’t any other person.

I fell asleep with a lot of things on my mind.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Kim was suspicious. He didn’t like coincidences, especially not coincidences that tied in with the little mission he was on two weeks ago. Minji was happy to have a new friend, especially an older figure in her life. That made Kim hesitate to follow after (Y/N). Maybe he was being overprotective, but that was sort of the norm nowadays. He just decided to dig a little deeper into her work. Why was she interning? Was her story legit? Was it an all coincidence? She seemed like a good kid, but was she really? He didn’t know. He needed to be sure.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I was almost finished with my internship shift. My feet ached and my back was sore. I had just finished a delivery and was once again heading to my car. There was intense déjà vu. I knew my way to the parking lot from inside the building now. I passed by familiar hallways and unfamiliar ones. The footsteps that echoed behind me didn’t bother me; everyone had somewhere they needed to be.

I passed by a dozen people until I reached outside. The thing is, there were a pair of footsteps that had been ghosting me for a while, and I was getting uneasy. A little weirded out, I glanced behind me.

I recognized the guy. He had noticeable stitches over his eye and a bandage taped to his ear, but it was definitely Officer Baek. I felt a gradual drop to my confidence. Just don’t bump into him and you’ll be fine.

I crossed the street and into the parking complex and he continued in the same direction. Paranoid, I took an abrupt turn and went in between some cars. In my phone I scrolled through my contacts, ready to call my roommate and ask them to meet me somewhere close. My foot skidded and I slammed forward into someone. Nope. Nah. Nuh uh.

How the hell was my luck so bad? I felt dizzy and irritable looking up at the Officer who waited for me at the other end of the cars. “What the hell?” Did slip past my filter, happily enough.

He glared down (idc how tall you are he is taller.) at me. “This is my car. Shouldn’t you be going to yours?” I found it unbelievable that this was his car, but it actually wasn’t surprising seeing as I was really bad at decision making and my luck had run out just now. “You did make this easier though. I was gonna ask you about Code 66.”

“The computer filing program?” I countered dryly. I’m pretty sure that the system only went up to thirty-

“Kim! He goes by Kim. How do you know him? Cuz you two seem pretty close now…”

Officer Baek took another step closer and I took two backward. Creep. I reached for my purse and prepared to squirt some perfume in his eyes. The mention of Mr Kim rolled right over me. I wasn’t worrying about my silly infatuation, just surviving this encounter. Thank you very much.

“I met him the day you grabbed me. There’s not much of a connection, and I don’t have to answer your questions,” I said steadily. Hooray for my returned confidence. “Goodbye sir.”

I heard him open his car door and figured that was the end of it. But then… of course…

I yelped as my wrist was yanked backwards. Here comes the perfume and a kick to the crotch-

My heart pattered angrily against my ribs like a caged bird. Alerts sounded in my head as he tried shoving me in the car. I thrashed and cursed and yelled for help, dizzied as he slammed my head against the door.

The car driver door opened on its own and slammed into Officer Baek, smashing him against the next car. My arm was released. I looked around sporadically for the source, and of course found my liberator. Ironically, another swell of déjà vu flooded my head. Kim jumped out of the car, and my heart skipped a beat. Literally. I think I must’ve been scared. (Shocker.)

I numbly ran to my car as instructed. His words were muffled and fuzzy in my head. I waited, craning my neck to catch sight of them. Blood spurted onto the cars nearby and I heard glass break more than once. I thought about something as I waited, hands clutching my steering wheel nervously. I thought about what the hell was going on over there. What did Mr Kim do for a living? Should I be concerned about him? What’s code 66? I also thought about his disinterest in me… how he didn’t seem interested in a college student at all. Maybe Officer Baek hit my head a little harder than I thought, but my mind was suddenly a little clearer. Mr Kim was older than me. Too much older than me. But my stomach still squirmed, and my cheeks still felt warm. I would never get what I wanted, and it made my eyes sting. I had been so stupid. But I still wanted what I couldn’t have.

When Kim found me in my car, he asked if I was okay. I blurted out the only thing that came to mind. He had just fought off an officer. It was the most brutal thing I had partially witnessed, and no doubt my expression showed how mortified I was. But I said what was on my mind anyway.

“Mr Kim!” If I can’t have him… “Please! Teach me how to fight! B-Be my master!”

This is the next best thing.

[ilovedthestars]

Hi Stars! I've been thinking some more about media with deep platonic relationships, and I'd like to recommend Victoria Goddard's Nine Worlds fantasy universe. She has several interconnected series set in different parts of the same world, most of which have a lot of "love as in significance" going on.

In particular, The Hands of the Emperor and its sequel, At the Feet of the Sun, focus on the deepening friendship between the Emperor and his personal secretary (later Lord Chancellor), Cliopher. The sequel makes it explicitly clear that Cliopher is ace and the relationship he dreams of having with the Emperor is a queerplatonic one. Both books are enormous doorstops, but I love their leisurely, character-focused pace and overall tone of compassion and hopefulness.

Ooh, thank you so much! I can enjoy a good doorstopper if it's well paced, and this sounds really cool. I went to go look up a summary on the author's website:

An impulsive word can start a war. A timely word can stop one. A simple act of friendship can change the course of history. Cliopher Mdang is the personal secretary of the Last Emperor of Astandalas, the Lord of Rising Stars, the Lord Magus of Zunidh, the Sun-on-Earth, the god. He has spent more time with the Emperor of Astandalas than any other person. He has never once touched his lord. He has never called him by name. He has never initiated a conversation. One day Cliopher invites the Sun-on-Earth home to the proverbially remote Vangavaye-ve for a holiday. The mere invitation could have seen Cliopher executed for blasphemy. The acceptance upends the world.

I can already feel the platonic pining, oh my goodness. That kind of imbalance, wanting to be close to someone who's revered as a ruler and a god, being devoted to them as both but also caring about them as a person--it's so juicy. I imagine this is why some people love bodyguard romances and similar plots, but knowing that the desited end state of this pining is queerplatonic makes it so much more exciting to me.

I read the sample on the website too, which is sizable and took me all the way up to the invitation. I'm intrigued by the worldbuilding, I love that the protagonist is a bureaucrat whose life's work is trying to help people and shift political systems to be better for the citizens, I love all the complicated emotions of his trip back home and trying to reconcile his two lives. I can already feel that compassionate, hopeful, contemplative tone to the writing, and I can already tell that this is a story that treats friendship with weight.

I mean, look at this:

He thought of his lord, pacing in his study, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. Thought of how well they worked together, the enmeshing of respect and knowledge and good humour and experience. Thought of leaving his lord to the court. Thought of leaving his friends in Solaara-Conju and Ser Rhodin and Commander Omo-how none of them had families, had lost them in the Fall. Thought of leaving his work undone. All those projects slowly, delicately, unobtrusively transforming the government according to his vision of what the world could be. Thought of his lord, never failing to do his duty. Thought of his lord, with no one to joke with him. Thought of losing that—he could not call it friendship, could he? That implied a kind of equality, and there was no equality possible between the Sun-on-Earth and anyone else. But call it a relationship, that was permissible. He suppressed the wish that he dared call his Radiancy his friend.

And this:

"You saw this beautiful place, and you thought I would like it, and that I might enjoy a—a vacation after finishing up my present project, so you rented it for a month in my name, am I correct?" Cliopher swallowed. But his Radiancy said I, not we. He held to that. "I did not presume so far, my lord. It is in my name." His Radiancy continued to frown silently for several moments longer. And then he said: "Thank you, Cliopher." When Cliopher glanced up in surprise, for his Radiancy's tone had changed utterly, he saw that his Radiancy was smiling and there was even, oh just perhaps, the suspicion of moisture in his Radiancy's eyes, and Cliopher sank back to the ground in sheer relief and wonder and also a kind of pain, for he had seen that kind of surprised pleasure before in the faces of people receiving entirely unexpected but welcome gifts. And it occurred to him, somewhat later, after they had settled into their usual work, that if he, who was the chief member of his Radiancy's household, had never before dared offer a gift to his Radiancy beyond the tithes and service expected of him, then apart from his Radiancy's sister, who barely wrote and even more rarely came to court, there was no one else to do so.

I think I am going to LOVE this book. I've requested it from my library, and I can't wait for it to get here. Thank you so much for the rec!!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 3, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUN 04, 2024

The fallout from the New York jury’s conviction of Donald Trump on 34 felony counts last Thursday, May 30, continues. Trump’s team continues to insist that the guilty verdict will help him, but that’s nonsensical on its face: if guilty verdicts are so helpful, why has he moved heaven and earth to keep the many other cases against him from going to trial? And why are he and House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) calling for the Supreme Court to overturn the convictions? 

As political consultant Stuart Stevens put it: “I worked in five presidential races and helped elect Republican governors or Senators in over half the country. I have never heard anything more transparently desperate than a party trying to spin that there is some non-MAGA pool of voters who can't wait to vote for a convicted felon.”

On Friday, Morning Consult conducted a poll to gauge how voters were reacting to the guilty verdict. It showed that 54% of registered voters approved of it, while only 34% disapproved. Perhaps worse for Trump was that 49% of Independents and 15% of Republicans thought he should end his campaign. A Reuters/Ipsos poll found that 10% of registered Republican voters and 25% of Independents said that his conviction made it less likely that they would vote for him for president. 

Then, on Saturday, there was what Danny Westneat of the Seattle Times called a plot twist. It turns out the state of Washington has a law on the books that prevents felons from running for office. But because a candidate has to be certified to be on a ballot before they can be challenged, the issue can’t be resolved until Trump officially becomes the Republican Party’s presidential nominee at the July convention. Westneat asked, “Republicans: You sure you want to go down this road?”

On Sunday, Trump appeared on Fox and Friends for his first interview since his conviction. The interview was heavily edited, suggesting his comments were problematic in some way, but what was there was still bad enough. He repeated his plans to fire generals who refuse to do his bidding and to deport immigrants by using local police to round them up. Notably, considering his own looming sentencing, he claimed he never said “lock her up” about Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, a claim that reporters on social media promptly shredded with video clips of him doing exactly that. 

Media figures are puncturing Trump’s image. The verdict buried a story by The Apprentice producer Bill Pruitt, who is now free of a nondisclosure agreement, explaining how he and others created an illusion that Trump was a successful businessman and alleging that Trump used the n-word on set. On Saturday, an image circulated on social media of Trump leaving Trump Tower and waving as if to a crowd, but there was no one there.

Also on Saturday, top sports talk host Colin Cowherd pushed back on the idea that the trial was rigged, telling his listeners: “If everybody in your circle is a felon, maybe it’s not rigged. Maybe the world isn’t against you.” “Donald Trump is now a felon,” Cowherd said. “His campaign chairman was a felon. So is his deputy campaign manager, his personal lawyer, his chief strategist, his National Security Adviser, his Trade Advisor, his Foreign Policy Adviser, his campaign fixer, and his company CFO. They’re all felons. Judged by the company you keep. It’s a cabal of convicts.”

Cowherd went on: “[Trump’s] trying to sell me an America that doesn’t exist.” “Stop trying to sell me on ‘everything’s rigged, the country’s falling into the sea, the economy’s terrible,’” he continued. “The America that I live in is imperfect. But compared to the rest of the world, I think we’re doing okay.”

This morning, Robert Faturechi, Justin Elliott, and Alex Mierjeski of ProPublica reported that Trump’s businesses and campaign committees have funneled significant financial benefits to at least nine witnesses in the criminal campaigns against Trump, often at crucial moments in the legal proceedings. The pay of one campaign aide doubled; another got a $2 million severance package that barred him from cooperating with law enforcement. The daughter of one of the campaign’s top officials was hired onto the staff and is now the fourth-highest-paid employee, with a salary of $222,000. Payments to the companies of certain witnesses dramatically increased.

Faturechi, Elliott, and Mierjeski note that it is not uncommon for bosses to find themselves defendants, complicating their relationship with employees who might have witnessed alleged crimes. In such cases, lawyers advise the defendant not to provide any unusual benefits or penalties, to avoid the appearance of witness tampering.

Trump’s attorney, David Warrington, sent ProPublica a cease-and-desist letter saying that if the outlet and its reporters “continue their reckless campaign of defamation, President Trump will evaluate all legal remedies.” He demanded that ProPublica kill the article, keeping it from publication.

And then, this afternoon, U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York Damian Williams, along with the U.S. Department of Labor and the State Department, unsealed an indictment charging Weidong Guan, also known as Bill Guan, the chief financial officer of the global news outlet The Epoch Times, with using the outlet to launder at least $67 million. The Epoch Times is affiliated with the ultraconservative Chinese anticommunist religious group Falun Gong and supports Donald Trump and other right-wing U.S. politicians with both press and cash. It was a major promoter of Dinesh D’Souza’s film 2000 Mules that claimed the 2020 presidential election was stolen. A voter depicted in that film sued for defamation, and just last week the distributor settled with the plaintiff, issued an apology, and stopped distributing the film.

The allegation that The Epoch Times is a money-laundering operation comes on top of yesterday’s story by Joseph Menn in the Washington Post, reporting that the editor of another media site that pushes disinformation from both the far right and the far left, The Grayzone, has worked for Russia’s Sputnik as well as taken money from Iranian government-owned media. One of the people who retweets Grayzone stories is Senator Mike Lee (R-UT).

In the middle of all this bad news for MAGA Republicans, it felt like desperation today when the House Oversight Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic tried to resurrect Covid conspiracy theories against Dr. Anthony Fauci. Fauci was director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) from 1984 to 2022, serving under seven presidents. President George W. Bush awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian award in the U.S., for his work on combating the global AIDS epidemic. 

Fauci’s position as NIAID director put him at the center of U.S. attempts to grapple with Covid-19, and for his work on developing a vaccine, Trump awarded him a presidential commendation. But first QAnon and then MAGA Republicans centered him as a villain who either started or covered up the pandemic, or forced people to mask or to get vaccines they told their supporters were unnecessary or even dangerous. QAnon conspiracy theorist Ivan Raiklin and convicted January 6 rioter Brandon Fellows were seated behind Fauci today; Fellows made pouty faces when Fauci was describing the death threats he, his wife, and his daughters have endured. 

Video creator and political commentator Michael McWhorter noted that Raiklin has made dramatic threats of violence against those he considers members of “the Deep State” and that he should have been nowhere near Fauci. McWhorter also noted that the two men were likely invited to the hearing and that it would be useful to know who invited them.  

Committee member Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA), who has skipped seven of the last ten hearings and who has expressed sympathy for QAnon in the past, attacked Fauci by saying he should be prosecuted: “You know what this committee should be doing? We should be writing a criminal referral because you should be prosecuted for crimes against humanity,” she said. “You belong in prison, Dr. Fauci.” For all the nastiness, the hearing turned up nothing.

Later, Greene told Manu Raju of CNN that Speaker Johnson should shut down the government over the Trump verdict and prosecutions. “We're literally a banana republic. So what does it matter funding the government? The American people don't give a sh*t.” 

While MAGA Republicans are insisting that a Manhattan jury’s conviction of Trump means that President Joe Biden has weaponized the Department of Justice and that they must take revenge, the trial of Biden’s son Hunter on federal gun charges, brought by a Trump-appointed U.S. attorney whom Biden kept on, started today. Former top Justice Department prosecutor Andrew Weissmann noted that Biden is “living the rule of law…in the most personal way. He is not telling DOJ to stand down…. He is not pardoning his son…. He is living what it means to have a rule of law in this country…. If you want to know if he believes it, you can actually see what is happening with his own son.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[misfitwashere]

Pete Hegseth: The Short Course

13 Steps to National Destruction

TIMOTHY SNYDER

NOV 24

1.  Pete Hegseth, Trump's nominee for secretary of defense, has no qualifications for the job.  He has never run a large organization and has no national security expertise. 

2.  Hegseth has zero notion of which other countries might threaten America or how.  In his books this is simply not a subject, beyond a few clichés.

3.  Hegseth does not believe in alliances.  For him, “NATO is a great example of dumb globalism.”

4. Hegseth wants a political army that bans women from combat roles, is purged of "cowardly generals," and is anti-woke. 

5.  Hegseth never notes that the politicized Russian army meets all of his standards perfectly, but is is ineffective and commits war crimes. 

6.  Hegseth never notes that the Ukrainian army, which does have women in combat, and is not politicized in the way he would like, has overperformed. 

7.  Hegseth has almost nothing to say about the most significant armed conflict of our time and has not visited Ukraine or learned anything about it.

8.  Hegseth’s misogynist gender politics are consistent with his polygamy and the accusations of rape. 

9.  Hegseth's enemies are all internal: the Left, Muslins, and immigrants.  He repeatedly claims that the Left wishes to annihilate everyone else, which is a call to violence. 

10.  Hegseth, a Christian Reconstructionist, believes that Americans should be governed not by law or by the Constitution but by God -- as interpreted of course by Hegseth and his friends.

11.  Hegseth calls for a "holy war" and a "crusade" against Americans who think differently than he does because "God wills it."  Trump is the pretext: Hegseth wants "to make crusade great again."

12.  Hegseth, according to his books, could be counted upon to ignore threats to America from abroad, and to use a purged and politicized military against “enemies within.”  This is consistent with Trump's avowed intention to build a kind of dictatorship on the ruins of a dysfunctional government. 

13.  Hegseth thus represents a policy of regime change.  Trump’s nomination of Hegseth is best understood as part of a decapitation strike against the republic. A Christian Reconstructionist war on Americans led from the Department of Defense is likely to break the United States.

PS: I wrote a much longer post on this subject, hewing to a thought that I had about the usefulness of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale as a lens to see dangers of Christian Reconstructionism for the American republic.  

I think, though, that Hegseth's anti-qualifications for the position of secretary of defense are so blatant that they deserve a separate and clear presentation.  

As before, I rely upon and draw quotations from his books The War on Warriors: Behind the Betrayal of the Men Who Keep Us Free (2024); Battle for the American Mind: Uprooting a Century of Miseducation (2023, with David Goodwin); and American Crusade: Our Fight to Stay Free (2020).

[nerdygaymormon]

Re: women in the church not being able to hold positions of authority/being oppressed structurally -- i think a really underlooked factor of the way that women are just implicitly pushed into their proper place in the church is actually really closely related to the way that callings of authority work. being the wife of a bishop or a youth leader or any other authority calling is almost as significantly difficult as actually having the calling -- you are expected to do an incredible amount of extra work to support your husband in his role. both picking up the slack from essentially losing your spouse's contributions to the home as well as taking on a significant amount of "his" responsibilities to call people, keep track of things, organize events, secreterial work, visiting people, etc etc etc. but you get no title, no recognition, no description of job duties; the calling goes to your partner despite it being extremely significant for your life as well; you do not even get set apart. the way that authoritiative callings work in the church implicitly assumes that the man being called will have a woman to do half of his work, and also assumes that no permission from or recognition of her is necessary. this becomes evident when you can see that basically no unmarried man recieves positions of authority in the church structure; single men do not get real callings because they can't be expected to do them without the effort of a woman. women's callings often are given to single women, though, because they are significantly smaller in scope (and she should be able to do it anyway).

I appreciate you adding your thoughts. It's a good example.

Several times I've seen a visiting Seventy thank the wives of bishops and the stake presidency, and that without the support of their wives to do a lot of the chores at home, these men wouldn't be able to serve in these demanding positions.

It is required for a man to be married in order to serve as Bishop, Stake President, or Mission President. And while a single man could serve as counselors in bishoprics or stake presidencies, almost never are they asked to do so.

I am single and currently am the stake executive secretary. I used to get so annoyed because the stake presidency meets often and it's not unusual for meetings to go late into the night. I would be sitting there knowing whenever the meeting finally ends that I need to do some chores/errands. I would think to myself it's obvious the rest of the stake presidency has someone else who did their shopping, cooked their food, did their laundry, and so on, they aren't worried about fitting these things in between their full-time jobs and their busy callings.

Speaking of getting no title, another dramatic example is when a couple are called to lead a mission. They are called together and set apart. Together they are referred to as Mission Leaders. However, he is the Mission President, and she is the wife of the Mission President because there is no official title for her, which sends a strong message.

[darkmaga-returns]

Trump Should Win and Netanyahu Doubles Down on Stupid

5 November 2024 by Larry C. Johnson 133 Comments

It is 1900 hours eastern time zone and some polls are starting to close. I will say it up front — if Trump does not prevail tonight then there is skullduggery afoot. Let me explain why. Unlike 2020, Trump has garnered the endorsements and active support of people with significant social media influence — e.g., Elon Musk, Joe Rogan, Tucker Carlson, Tulsi Gabbard, Vivek Ramaswamy and Bill Ackman (a Wall Street billionaire who normally votes Democrat). Trump has made more effective use of social media than Kamala Harris, who has relied on the legacy media to get her message across.

Then there is the behavior of DC merchants — they boarded up their store fronts yesterday and today anticipating rioting. If Kamala was expected to win, they would not be taking this step because Trump does not have a legion of supporters in DC and the surrounding suburbs who are going to engage in violence if their man does not win. Kamala has the Antifa crowd and they are expected to lash out.

We have had other indicators that the narrative was not going well for Kamala. Following her debate with Donald Trump, Saturday Night Live (SNL) did two straight weeks of opening skits that skewered Kamala. They never did that to Biden. It is going to be an interesting night in America.

The very future of this country is at stake. I don’t write that lightly nor am I a rabid Trump supporter. Trump has many flaws and shortcomings but, when it comes to taking the country to war, he is cautious. He learned the hard way during the final days of his administration that the military disobeyed orders to withdraw from Syria and to prepare for leaving Afghanistan in an orderly manner. He is going to make damn sure that the people he installs at the Pentagon will follow lawful orders. If Trump wins, we will see a raft of political appointees that are novel and not beholden to the Deep State. What happens if Tulsi Gabbard is nominated to be Secretary of Defense? Vivek Ramaswamy as Secretary of Transportation? Those possibilities are some of the reasons the media and Washington elite are freaking out.

Meanwhile, Bibi Netanyahu fired Defense Minister Yoav Gallant and replaced him with Israel Katz. Unlike Gallant, who commanded a division during his military career and has some understanding of strategic thinking, Katz only served as a frontline soldier. That is a far cry from commanding a division or an army. Over the last year, Gallant butted heads with Bibi and reportedly argued against going into southern Lebanon. With Gallant out of the way there is no one in Netanyahu’s war cabinet with the experience and backbone to challenge his crazy, dangerous combat operations.

Gallant was not an ardent Zionist. While he agreed with Netanyahu in getting rid of the Palestinians, he also understood that there were limits to Israel’s ability to fight a five-front war. Gallant wanted a more focused approach. With him out of the way, I expect that Netanyahu will embark on some dangerous, counterproductive military operations that will fail and will create pressure in Israel to go nuclear. I hope I am wrong.

[angelasscribbles]

Hi! Two people say you're the fandom's poly princess so I hope you won't mind me sending you asks!

In your poly pairings, do they ever get jealous? If they do, how do they handle that?

Thanks!

Okay, first of all, I’m totally adding Poly Princess to the ever-growing list of titles my readers have bestowed upon me!

Second, I never mind getting friendly asks!!!

And third, I love talking about polyamory, my writing, and my characters so you really can’t go wrong there!

Do they ever get jealous? Oh, my yes. Generally, early on in the relationship but it can happen at any point. How they handle it also depends on where we are in the story. My stories almost always start with a love triangle (or quadrangle, etc) and evolve from there. How it evolves depends on the story. Sometimes my character was poly before the story even started, so it’s pretty easy. Sometimes the circumstances they find themselves in lead them to the discovery of polyamory. But sometimes it’s a struggle, there is jealousy, there are ultimatums, etc. Emotions run high, and sometimes it even gets dysfunctional and toxic. But in every case, the characters grow and develop and so do the relationships.

Polyamorous people have all the same emotions monogamous people have. Poly relationships have all he same problems mono one’s do….and then some. What makes poly relationships successful is brutal honesty and communication. The willingness and ability to ask to have your needs met, and to listen and understand the same from your partners.

Most of my stories address jealousy in the beginning, but some of my Bad Romance Continues one-shots show them still dealing with it months or years after settling into a committed relationship. That being said, I write angst and drama, strong emotions and sometimes problematic behavior. I do balance it all out with lots of love and understanding. In the end, they work through whatever comes because they love each other and it’s worth it.

My stories are not for people looking for poly done “right” (this is something only mono people say, by the way). Any actual poly person will tell you there is no “right” way to be poly. It’s as individual as each polycule.

Do you know what flawless tokenism is? That’s when a token character for whatever ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, etc is written as perfect and can do no wrong. (This happens because if they do anything wrong, they are seen as bad representation for their entire group. Which is ludicrous but that’s an entirely different discussion.)

I don’t do that.

My characters are real. Emotions are messy. People are flawed. Relationships are hard. I don’t write Mary Sue’s because they don’t exist in real life. And for me, personally, they don’t make an interesting story.

How a character reacts to jealousy is as unique as the character themselves.

Example, in my Bad Romance universe, Drake snarks when he’s feeling insecure. Liam becomes controlling and possessive. Max tends to push boundaries. He once flirted with another man just to set Liam off because he wanted to find out if Liam would get possessive over him. Riley fired a secretary once for saying Drake was hot (in her defense, she was pregnant and hormonal). Even though Max and Liam love each other, they still occasionally clash over Riley.

In all of these cases, as the characters grow and develop and the relationships solidify, they recognize their triggers and actively work at overcoming their knee jerk reactions. They also recognize jealousy in each other and often one character will point out to another what they are doing to trigger to one who’s acting jealously. In all cases, hurt feelings are soothed by checking in with each other and discussing their feelings.  

In addition to brutal communication, the things that reassure them of their place in their significant others heart(s) are also unique to each character. Drake connects and is reassured through physical touch. Liam through acts of service (the fact that Riley always shows up when he most needs her overrides everything else in his mind). Max just needs verbal words of affirmation. Riley needs a lot lol, but between the four men in her life, she gets it.

So, in conclusion, yes, they get jealous, and they deal with it in the same way a monogamous couple would. Through communication, honesty, and clear boundary setting.

Haha, hope you don’t mind the essay answer! I tend to be verbose!

[pvtchworks]

was  that  DALLAS LANGSTON  i  saw  heading  towards  the  water?  you  know  the  TWENTY SIX  year  old  from  MOONLIGHT BEACH?  can  you  believe  they've  only  lived  in  manoa  bay  for EIGHT YEARS,  it  seems  like  so  much  longer.  last  i  checked  they  were  known  around  town  as  the  SKEPTIC  because  of  their  tendency  to  be  RESOURCEFUL  &  CAVALIER,  but  what  else  did  you  expect  from  a  SCORPIO  who  reminds  you  of  A MOSIAC OF PATCHWORK TATTOOS THAT HAVE NO COHESION , GLASSY EYES THAT ARE ALWAYS HIGHLIGHTED BY DARK CIRCLES , DOC MARTENS BEING A WARDROBE STAPLE REGARDLESS OF THE WEATHER AND PILES OF SKETCHBOOKS BEING HOARDED IN AN APARTMENT   …  since  hayden's  disappearance  they  have  been  happily  working  as  a  TATTOO ARTIST  at  SKINCRAFT,  but  that's  all  about  to  change  because  the  eye  HAS  set  their  sights  on  exposing  all  of  their  lies,  as  well  as  [REDACTED].  i  really  hope  they  don't  incriminate  themself. 

stats .

full name: dallas reed langston . nickname(s): n/a date of birth: october 26th . place of birth: chattanooga , tennessee . gender: demi man . sexual orientation: bisexual . height: 6'3 . zodiac: scorpio sun, taurus moon, capricorn rising .

backstory .

dallas was the youngest child born into the family , often drifting somewhere between the atypical eldest son role and baby of the family role . the childrens' parents weren't exactly neglectful but were kept busy with multiple jobs and often relied on the safety of their secluded home in chatanooga to allow the children to tend to each other / themselves . dal spent a lot of his time outdoors , often wandering about or preoccupying himself and his siblings with long walks and impromptu camping trips as they got older .

he was never really pushed to do anything or have many aspirations , often resorting to quitting hobbies before he was able to perfect them . his top priority was always his family , uninterested in doing much of anything that would take a chunk of time away from that .

found himself utterly lost and a bit ashamed once graduation rolled around . all of his peers were already on their way to a bright future — or at least had a plan in place to achieve something . most of his siblings had already flown the nest , creating lives of their own . he opted to follow one of his friends from school to manoa bay for the summer , spending time freeloading on their couch . he didn't expect the city to be for him but he simply . . . never left . for him , it was a push to get a semblance of his life together and he found a job as a glorified secretary at a tattoo shop a few blocks down the street .

scheduling appointments turned into an apprenticeship at the shop . finally , he had something to grasp onto that was entirely his for once in his life . the shop owner at the time paid for dallas to take some community art classes . he's been tattooing on his own at the shop for about two years now and while he's far from the best , he takes great pride in perfecting the one thing that's his . he also enjoys the gratification of giving someone something permanent that more than likely means a lot to them or bears some significance .

listen . . . dallas is my pookiebear but he's essentially a human sloth . if it's anything outside of his job , do not expect him to be hasty . don't expect him to think quickly or make decisions . he's a little too ' go with the flow ' which can occasionally lead to hurt feelings or disappointments . he doesn't really see the point in deadlines or applying any pressure to . . . well . . . anything . his drive resembles the slow , southern drawl he's forcibly outgrown since moving to the city — although an occasional twang still exists when intoxicated , angry or excited . there's not really a malicious bone in his body but his overall dismissiveness / aloofness can be off - putting . he's fine with being an acquired taste .

his label is the skeptic and it fits for two reasons . . . one , he's simply not a quick thinker . i hate to say it but he needs to let things really soak in before he has a solution or feels confident enough to catch on . two , he is a bit jaded and cynical which bleeds over into his perspective . he often doesn't know who to trust or which path to take and doesn't make those decisions quickly .

some funky little hcs .

i have yet to sort out all of his tattoos but in the gifs above , the only canon one is the snake on the hand / wrist . he has a lot of odd and silly ones from tattooing himself , as well .

often found in the alley or on the curb outside of the tattoo shop after hours feeding the stray cats .

his love of nature still holds true despite living in the city . he often travels to more rural / less touristy areas when he needs a break . can also identify certain plants , constellations , insects , etc . it's really the only knowledge he's retained .

wears a cross around his neck despite not being religious . it was a gift from his grandmother and he treasures it solely for that reason .

for the sake of plotting , i'm open for former romantic dynamics because ?? hello ?? i need that ?? but i'm gonna be honest . . . picturing this man in a serious relationship is not realistic . if it ever happened , they must have been incredibly , incredibly patient and forgiving .

hates social media and only uses insta for his business account . has an anonymous twitter for the sake of memes / ranting into the void but nothing else .

big lover of marlboro reds and cool lighters .

connections .

melody — confidant .

riley — dated and ended on a bad note .

lidia — essentially dallas' knight in a pretty sundress .

josh — best friend with a potentially a fruity vibe .

jasper — first friend dallas made in manoa and they've been close ever since .

more coming . . .

[flashdyke]

I am thinking about the mirroring establishment of community and financial interdependence that you can see between patrons of geisha and of Takarazuka actors respectively.

For most of their history, geisha had been most often sold to a geisha house under a contract (or sometimes would be automatically trained as one because she was the daughter of a geisha and therefore it was her community anyway). Having to work off that, plus all the other expenses you rack up with the house that trains you (and being encouraged to never deal directly with money), and events you're expected to pay to participate in or to sponsor as part of the community, you tend to rely on your regular customers and patron to sponsor things on your behalf or tip you, as you'd expect. But patrons of geisha (and courtesans before they appeared) are expected to enjoy the spending, as symbolic of their enjoyment of what popular (now traditional) culture. You show that you're cool, and your appreciation for the geisha you spend time with (you usually ask for the same ones repeatedly because you form a professional friendship).

I'm now on the section of my Takarazuka book about the relationship of the actors with their fanbase, and it mentions that the hardcore fans would in a somewhat similar way fund or directly run a given actor's lifestyle: "An actor's long-term fans will chauffeur her to and from the theatre, prepare her meals, provide secretarial services, and collect the presents offered by other fans." The culture of being a patron of an actor is also about a significant direct financial and time investment in their lifestyle, which I thought was an interesting contrast, because both geisha and Takarasiennes are necessarily women, but the patrons of geisha are almost always men, and for Takarasiennes they're usually women.