#this is technically an exception because I'm reblogging my comment and not her

[joonsytip]

The Selfish Dilemma || Jeonghan - Part 1

Pairings: Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

Word Count: 6k

Warnings (specific to this part): this part is SFW, pinning, unrequited love, lots of office jargons, profanity, tears, mention of alcohol consumption, aloof Jeonghan, reader is a love sick puppy, second lead Seokmin, wholesome co-workers Wonwoo, Soonyoung, Jihoon and Joshua, wholesome bestfriend Myeongho (lmk if I missed any)

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

A/N: To be added to the taglist for the next part please send an ask or comment under this or the announcement post.

Please heart, comment and reblog, it would really help to keep me going <3

[Svt Main Masterlist] [Svt Flick - Fic Masterlist]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue

The cubicles are neat, the marble floors are shining brighter than crystals even after getting padded every now then. The fruity smell of the room refresher is strong enough to go on for days but the continuous clicking of keyboards sound loud enough to give a year worth migraines.

You duly wait by the office entrance, your daily routine, holding a takeaway paper cup which contains Iced Cinnamon Cappuccino.

A familiar car passes by towards the parking and you know that the person you're waiting for is gonna grace you with his presence soon.

Just in cue, that person walks by ignoring you and passes through the security check. You line up behind him, instantly feeling better just by seeing his face.

"How do you always manage to look so gorgeous?", you ask him giddily knowing very well that you won't be getting a response from him.

The security at the check smiles when you direct your requesting gaze at her. She let's you pass by and you're doing large strides in your heels.

"Here..", you are handing him the beverage cup, "Have a great day, Hannie!", you wish him and he doesn't even bat an eyelash as he saunters over to avail the elevator.

You stand there watching him as your lips curl up because your gazes meet for the first time for the day before the elevator door closes.

When you had switched to the current company you're working for two years ago as a Senior Developer you had never thought in your wildest dreams that you'd be turning into a lovesick puppy for the technical analyst of the team you had gotten assigned to.

Yoon Jeonghan got you enchanted the moment you had your eyes on him. You could vividly remember, it was your first day after getting assigned to a project and your manager was introducing you to your teammates.

Everyone seemed nice and greeted you with enthusiasm except one. Yoon Jeonghan was stoic throughout and for you, that heart within your chest thumped vigorously, eyes glued to him while the surroundings seemed to freeze.

Love at first sight was just a funny concept until Jeonghan made you experience it.

You would admit it unabashed that working in corporate world had given you chance to meet a lot of person but no one could ever do justice to suits more then Jeonghan.

Always been a spontaneous person and upon getting a confirmation that he's single your journey of courting him kickstarted.

It's been two years since then.

Everytime you ask him out, Jeonghan rejects you even without sparing a moment of thought.

You are currently working on debugging a piece of code which every other member of your team failed to solve and it ultimately fell into your court.

"I'm gonna run by the canteen, do you need anything?"

You lift your head to see Seokmin hovering over the partition of your desk.

"One strong black coffee, thanks Min.", you quickly say before focusing on the screen again.

You don't see the empathetic smile Seokmin throws at you.

It's almost afternoon and your prying eyes are stuck on the door of the cabin, adjacent to your desk.

Soon Jeonghan comes out of his cabin which prompts you to follow him to have lunch to together.

It's same everyday, Jeonghan not intending to let you sit with him but you do it anyways.

"Did the bug get resolved?", he asks, eyes set on the plate, "I think we have been stuck on this on for long, need to get it resolved asap."

You chew on the salad filling in your mouth to quickly gulp it and answer him, "I got the chance to look at it today. Hopefully, I wouldn't be spending much time on it."

Jeonghan nods making a brief eye contact with you.

So you proceed with the most important part of your daily ritual.

"Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?", you ask.

"No", comes his recorded response.

You smile mischievously, "Why? I thought I should be rewarded for fixing the code?"

Jeonghan scoffs, "You're knocking on the wrong door. Ask your manager to reward you. If he doesn't, go to the HR department and discuss the matter."

"But they're not you, Hannie.", you slip out the nickname on purpose knowing it irks him, "You're the one I want."

Jeonghan blatantly ignores you and when he's done eating, he cleans the corner of his lips with the tissues and then walks out of the canteen grabbing a water bottle.

Even his back profile should have a seperate fandom of its own, you ponder dreamily.

"Snap out of it, you're drooling."

You crane your neck to see that the seat beside you already occupied by Seokmin.

"Another rejection?" he asks and you nod.

The two of you continue to eat silently before Seokmin brings up the topic again, "Join our team Y/N, Wonwoo is moving out."

You give him a pointed look wishing it was as easy as it sounded. When you started working in the team, you worked under Jeonghan and within this span, everyone moved out or transferred except you. To work closer to Jeonghan and out of sentimentality, you stayed.

"It'll be a lot less hectic", Seokmin assures and points at your face, "Your concealor is doing a very bad job at hiding those dark circles."

You gasp and hit his arm, "Atleast Pandas got a competition even though they're cute and I'm just..."

"Beautiful." Seokmin says in a beat, "You are beautiful Y/N and Jeonghan is blind for not appreciating a woman like you."

He says with so much sincerity that you have to cower your gaze away.

"How long until you stop pursuing him?", he asks.

So that I can start courting you, he doesn't say.

"Until he accepts or...", you sing along, "the day I run out of my patience and the rejection finally settles in my bones."

Red might be your favourite colour but currently you're seeing green.

"Who's she, Wonwoo?", you hiss, lamenting on how you have to witness such a sight.

Apparently a woman whom you've never seen before is standing too close to Jeonghan, much to your disliking and the man in the picture seems unbothered with her hogging over and he's smiling.

He's smiling at whatever nonsense she's uttering!

"She's Seonji, my replacement.", Wonwoo speaks calmly, "Since it's my last week, I'll be giving her KTs before my departure."

"You don't care about me or Seokmin, do you?", you say sadly, "How would I function at all without your inputs?"

Wonwoo is another efficient co-worker who works with Seokmin and is a very good friend of yours.

"Not everyone will be a fool to stall their growth because of sentiments Y/N.", he retorts, meaning no malice.

Your throat closes up for a moment but you somehow manage to speak, "We're not having this conversation now, Woo."

"I know this won't go anywhere but there's a limit to everything. How long until you see it's not Jeonghan but someone else who deserves you.", Wonwoo thinks it's time he rats out Seokmin's name because he himself would never.

"What do you mean by someone else?", you counter back confused.

"It's been two years Y/N, people can go through whole lot of loving in this span, don't you think he's behaviour towards you should have been different if he cared even a bit?", Wonwoo is ruthless because he knows he needs to be the one to tell you because no one else would, "Has he ever smiled at you like that?"

"Woo please stop...", your eyes are teary, voice cracking, "You think I don't know that?"

Then you are walking away, wiping your tears. When there's something on your mind you always go to the rooftop to clear your mind out, of course not alone, you always find a lot of others, some shedding tears, some smoking cigarettes or some staring at the abyss.

You don't realise how much time has passed because you don't have your phone with you. Just as you are mentally preparing yourself to indulge into work you hear the call of your name from a very familiar voice.

"Do you think this company is paying you for slacking off?", Jeonghan says nonchalantly as he stands in front of you, "I can't even reach you on your phone."

Your lips curl up instantly, tiredness disappearing from your eyes, "Did you miss me Hannie?"

Jeonghan turns back & walks towards the door. You follow.

"When you're done fixing the bug, bring it to me for review.", he continues, "The clients have scheduled a meeting with us at 7pm. Be there."

"Aye aye captain!", you say from behind, "Can I ask you a question?"

You don't wait for Jeonghan to respond and ask right away, "Do you hate me?"

"Yes.", comes another of his recorded response.

You wonder how many more yes you can take for an answer.

The meeting ends at 10 and you're quickly collecting your belongings and almost parading so that you could avail the last bus since your car is given up for servicing.

You are sure that availing the bus is far fetched so you're taking out your phone to book a cab when you hear honking.

The familiar car stops by the road where you're standing and Jeonghan rolls down the window.

"Get in, I'll drop you.", he's looking at the way ahead and you are instantly getting in the passenger's seat.

"Wanna go to a restaurant for dinner?", you ask robotically, your tone dry. Jeonghan notices and sweeps a glance at you.

You look exhausted and he hopes it's only because of work.

"No", he says, "Put your address on the system's GPS.", as if it's not already instilled in the system.

You do as asked and Jeonghan sees you putting a different address.

"Did you change places?", he asks.

"A friend's address.", you don't explain further and it doesn't resonate well with him.

You thank him when he drops you at the doorsteps and watch him drive away until the car disappears from your sight.

The product deployment is scheduled for next month meaning work's gonna get more hectic than it already is.

You are knocking on the door and upon hearing a 'come in' you enter the cabin.

Jeonghan is seated on the revolving chair, the coat is hung on the headrest meaning that his only white shirt clad body is making you salivate. His head is laid back and you want nothing more than to stroke those luscious locks with your fingers. But for now, you push away your thoughts.

"I have mailed you a scheduler for the new product release.", you inform, "I think it's best if you arrange a meeting for all the teams involved and I'll give them a walkthrough on deployment and checkout procedures."

Jeonghan immediately straightens and checks the calender before scheduling a meeting for the next day.

"Tomorrow, 5 PM.", he stretches his arms out, "Anything else?"

The sight of viens protruding through his arms almost has you choked and you think it's best for your eyes to be up, "Y-Yeah? Oh well, I'll run by the Batch Ops department, do you have anything you want me to relay to them?"

Jeonghan searches for some files and takes out one from the stack and gives it to you, "Give it to Jihoon and tell him to send me the report by EOD."

You nod and ask, "There's this movie I have been meaning to watch, do you wanna go with me?"

"No.", he responds right away and you're already turning to exit the room when Seonji enters.

"Hannie!", she's intentionally loud and emphasizing and you are almost biting your tongue when you hear the nickname you've given him, to be called by her.

Not wanting to breathe in the same room as her, you are just taking a step ahead but you freeze on hearing her next words.

"The restaurant you took me to on Tuesday after work, I recommended it to my friends and they also loved it. Let's visit again sometime!"

You head whips to look at Jeonghan, to find him already staring at you.

It hurts your pride so you walk out of the room.

You're currently in the Batch Ops department, waiting for Jihoon. The said man is always busy, running on his heels and termed as the workaholic assistant supervisor of the department.

"Hey Y/N, did Jeonghan send the file?", you nod handing him the file and remind him to send the report.

"So how's your courting agenda going on?", he always asks and is even amused by the fact that how persistent you are to get Jeonghan when he doesn't show an ounce of interest in you.

You are generally joking with him on this but today you don't throw a banter and Jihoon is quick to understand that you're having a bad day so he doesn't pry further.

And on the way back you meet Seokmin who asks you to accompany him to the designated tent bar you both often go to. You agree instantly.

That night the owners of that tent bar knew how much you hate a woman named Seonji. They already know about your love for Jeonghan, since your alcohol tolerance is terrific, you cry river worth tears for that man everytime you're wasted and they feel pity for Seokmin who has to always clean up after you.

The product release approaches and everyone is pulling late nights or all nighters. Those who working in higher posts have to almost use office as a makeshift home mainly because they are dealing directly with the foreign clients and the time zones differ.

Though you are tired tattered, you make sure a cup of coffee of his preference always awaits him when Jeonghan enters his cabin. You also arrange the files, putting sticky notes in each section so he doesn't have to waste time searching for something. You make sure the cabin smells good and the place is neat. The towels are kept warm in the bathroom attached to the cabin and his favourite fragrance is filling the air inside cabin, so even if he's spending time at office, your efforts makes him think it's home.

When the rest ask how you do this, why do you do this, your answer is simple.

Isn't this what love is, to keep giving and not expecting anything in return.

"I think it's time you move on, Y/N.", your best friend Myeongho says after he shows up at your apartment one day.

Before you could retaliate his arms are up in his defence as he continues, "You know I'm never the type to judge or disregard anything casually. But this has been going on for long and it might hurt you but it's stagnant. You both made no progress. Two years, definitely a very long time and you can appear all happy and unfazed but I know every rejection must be hurting as hell."

You don't need words, the tears those stream down your facr speak volumes. Myeongho's presence is itself soothing and maybe that's why you are not loosing yourself in pits of sorrow for the moment.

What are supposed to do, you're so in love with Jeonghan, you're so used to him, so dedicated to him.

Myeongho pats your back while he's talking to his wife on his phone. You ponder over how Myeongho met her a year ago and now they are happily married with a baby on the way.

No one's story is comparable to other, each having it's own circumstances and pace but as your best friend said yours is totally different.

Unrequited and stagnant.

The product release is a success and now the work load is a lot lesser.

And as expected you're in Jeonghan's cabin.

"Are you free today?", you ask, "Wanna go to dinner? Not as a date, some people from our & Batch Ops team would be present as well."

Jeonghan is unabashed as usual, "I'm busy today."

He isn't explaining himself, it's his way of defining things. He's implying that on other days he's rejecting your advances without a reason and today he's doing it with a reason.

This time your face falls.

"Do you hate me?", you ask.

"Yes, you're annoying."

"Would you miss me if I leave?"

"No, a good riddance."

This time your heart hurts.

You are currently in a restaurant with Seokmin, Jihoon, Chaein and Joshua both working in your team, Soonyoung of Support Team and you've managed to pull Wonwoo in this eat out.

Wonwoo is currently making a disgusted face at Seokmin, who's doing some questionable mimicking of Jihoon, the man being mimicked being totally vested in eating whatever is there on his plate.

"Isn't that Jeonghan?"

Five pair of eyes follows Soonyoung's gaze and lands on Jeonghan.

"Wait that's Yoora with--"

Seokmin is late in slapping his hand over Soonyoung mouth because you have heard the name and it rings in your ear.

Kwon Yoora, Jeonghan's ex-girlfriend. The woman accompanying him tonight.

You have heard a lot about her from your colleagues because she used to work in the company you're working in. Well you're her replacement in terms of the position when you joined in. She worked with and under Jeonghan before you did.

This is the first time you're seeing her.

"I heard they had mutual breakup, seems they're still good friends.", Joshua comments.

Your eyes are glued to the table space where Jeonghan's hand is atop Yoora's. And he's smiling as he says something to her.

He never smiles at you like that.

"You guys continue eating.", Seokmin is already up grabbing his coat, "I'll get our food packed."

When Seokmin leaves, the rest four look at you worried and you feel pity for yourself. How could you not guess, Jeonghan had never lead you on, always being indifferent, constantly rejecting all your approaches for the last two year.

He didn't like you at all, he has been saying it all along but you were to stubborn to admit and accept. But now you do.

For you, it has been always him.

For him, it would be anyone but you.

You are grabbing your belongings, "Tell Seokmin, I'll be waiting by his car."

Then you sprint out. It's only when Wonwoo calls out your name, Jeonghan notices you.

He sees you running towards the exit, only if he didn't know better, he watches as you wipe your tears while do so.

Tonight it's not only you who's suffering from heartbreak, Seokmin's heart breaks yet again seeing those tear stained cheeks, hearing those wrenching sobs. He puts you to bed and sets the food on your table so that in the middle of night when you wake up hungry, you don't have to look around for food. He runs the bath for you, sets the towels and knowing that you'd be having a terrible headache later, he keeps the glass filled with water and the medicines on the nightstand. He does more and all while wiping his own tears.

Because like you, he too knows nothing breaks like a heart.

Next day Jeonghan doesn't see you at the office entrance. You don't greet him when he walks by your desk to his cabin. It's almost afternoon and you haven't walked through the cabin door even once. At lunch you don't sit with him, you're happily chatting away with Chaein while eating.

Jeonghan thinks something is wrong with him. Everytime he hears faint sound of footsteps his eyes perks at the cabin door. He doesn't like the coffee Seonji makes him. He doesn't like it when some random guy sits in front of him at lunch and while his eyes stray at you almost every second, you don't spare him a glance.

It's around 5 in the evening when you knock on his door.

Jeonghan can't describe the sensation his feeling right now, as if he has waiting for this moment lifelong.

You place a file on his table and say, "The Scheduler team wants to know about all the applications which are planned to retire from our system before the next monthly cycle. I have made a list for same, please have a look once and let me know in case of any concerns."

"Okay.", he says and you give him a nod.

"Don't you have anything to say?", he asks and you look at him confused, "No, I think this is the priority task at the moment, I'll let you know if anything else comes up, Jeonghan."

His own name feels foreign to his ears. By the time he's about to say something again, you are already out of his cabin.

This goes on for the whole week and Jeonghan feels he can't function anymore. He makes unnecessary trips within the office premise everytime walking by your desk just in hopes of getting called by you. You never do.

He waits for you at lunch but you're always gone. He never sees you smiling at him again. You never ask him out now. The coffee doesn't help to keep his stress away, the office doesn't feel homier anymore.

Isn't this all he wanted, Jeonghan asks himself. Aren't you the annoying co-worker who was always getting on his nerves?

And he's scared to listen to the answer his heart has to echo.

It's Monday, the first working day of a very new week and Jeonghan still looks at the entrance expectantly just to see you this time. He double takes to make sure he's not hallucinating and a smile tugs on his lips.

His face regains the seriousness as he approaches you and much to his dismay you don't notice him. He clears his throat to have your attention.

"Morning, Jeonghan.", you greet him curtly.

"Morning", he asks, eyes glancing over your hands to see if they have any takeaway coffee cup in them but they are empty, "Aren't you going in?"

"I'm waiting for someone.", comes your dry response.

Ain't that someone me?

"Okay....", he has no reason to linger anymore.

You are exhausted, sleep deprived blame the late night marathons of your favourite shows you've been pulling.

Reason, to keep your mind occupied with something which is not Jeonghan but the ache in your heart never dulls. Even though you have choosen peace with the fact that he'll never be yours, it's so new and difficult for you act indifferent towards him when you have been in love with him for two whole years.

When you're phones notifies you of a text, it has you rubbing your eyes just to make you're seeing it correct. You have got a text from Jeonghan reading-

Please make me coffee, it's a request.

When the Yoon Jeonghan who never texts you, never bothers to type back a response to your greetings or queries other anything related to work sends you a text, you're shocked.

Jeonghan feels like he can finally get the productive cells of body to work when he sees you entering holding a cup of coffee.

"You don't look good.", you say placing the cup on his table, "Are you okay?"

When he doesn't respond, you continue, "If you're not feeling well, please take the day off, I'll notify you of any urgent matters from our team prospective."

Jeonghan thinks it's the only chance he'd get to clear the misunderstandings so he speaks, "Me and Yoora are still good friends, that night at the restaurant she treated me because of a promotion she got at her company."

"Great to know. Good wishes on my behalf.", you are poised when you say, "From next time please refrain from sharing anything other from work related matters. I have no interest in your personal life and I think we are not close at all to be sharing updates on same."

Either he's mishearing or you're possessed, he's sure it's either. This ain't the you he wants. This ain't the you he needs.

Your tone emits grief when you speak further, "I deeply regret for the inconvenience I've caused you for the past years. I'm really sorry. But rest assured I won't be causing any more trouble, I'll out soon."

"What do you mean by that?", he's off his seat and in front of you instantly, "Did something happen?"

"Indeed.", You nod while smiling, "I accepted that you won't go out with me. I also accepted that you hate me. So there's no more pestering you from my side."

Jeonghan never thought his words would come back to him biting in his ass which he's not capable of taking.

"You can't do this...", he's not even sure of the words he's uttering, "Are you giving up on me?"

"Yes, I'm giving you what you wanted by giving up on you."

Jeonghan realises how much that he has gotten used to you. You're like the good parasite that clogs his mind whenever you're around and even if you're not. His mornings used to start with your messages, you used to magnetize yourself on him during the office hours and the last notification he got before sleeping was also from you.

So now he doesn't like the lack of attention from you at all and he'd do anything to have it back. He'd do anything to have you back.

He tries to be in your shoes for the next days. He waits for you at the entrance holding four cups of takeaway coffee cups because he doesn't you what like. Everyone who passes throws him a questioning gaze. Everyone except you. You walk pass by him, unfazed and unbothered.

"Y/N wait!", when you don't stop, he is following you, "I bought these for you and also if you could tell me what you like so that I can buy that."

You give him an incredulous look, "What are trying to do?"

"Just trying to get you morning coffee..."

You scoff and walk away.

When you go for lunch, Jeonghan pops up out of nowhere and not only he's tailing you, he's even occupying the seat beside you. He's suddenly texting you good mornings and good nights and throughout the day something or other but there's no progress.

Roles reversed, you don't even bat an eyelash at him now.

It makes him realise how ass of a person he has been to you and how angel of a human you were to tolerate all this and still love him with your all.

"What's wrong with Jeonghan nowadays?", Joshua asks genuinely curious. You all are gathered for a coffee break, as he stands opposite to where Jeonghan is stood from accross the room, he constantly notices him throwing glances, "He keeps looking at you Y/N."

"Jeonghan is that thick brain who realises what he had and lost when it's too late.", Jihoon snorts as he takes a sip casually, "What the hell, who put sugar in my coffee?"

Joshua is suddenly walking away and you laugh which makes Jihoon aware of the culprit.

Next he's chasing Joshua.

You are still smiling, gaze lingering on those two when you notice Jeonghan approaching you from the periphery of your vision. Not wanting to waste any energy on him you think of leaving the hall when someone bumps into you.

It's Seonji.

"Heard you stopped chasing Jeonghan?", she taunts, "Good that your brain's finally working."

"I want to you know if this concerns you anyway and why?", you ask and quickly turn to check if Jeonghan is in hearing vicinity. He is.

"I thought it's obvious? That we're close and might be together soon.", she says confidently, "You've noticed how behaves towards you is completely opposite of how his behaviour is towards me."

"Congratulations", you pat on her arm and incline closer to her as you whisper in her ear , "Let's see if Jeonghan is aware of this as well?"

Seonji's freezes for a moment when she realises that Jeonghan has been present there all along and have listened to the conversation that just happened.

"Congratulations to you too Jeonghan.", you wish him, "I can see, a match made of likes."

"There's nothing going on between us Y/N", he pleads as his hands itches to grab you so that you don't slip away before he finishes but out of professionalism and respect he doesn't, "She's just a junior from my university."

'You don't have to explain, I'm not interested.", you tell him before walking out.

Jeonghan is furious and Seonji thinks his glare is enough to make her evaporate without any trace.

"Jo Seonji", his voice is dangerously low and threatening, "I was being nice to you just because we're acquaintances from before but I realised how wrong it was."

"Han--"

"It's Jeonghan for you. If I hear you uttering such nonsense one more time, I'll report you to the committee for harassing me.", he's practically glowering, "And I want the database for all the transactions that occurred between us and our oldest clients with the analysis document by EOD."

"But that's too much of data Jeonghan, how would I be able to--"

"That's for you to sort out.", he says, "If I don't get the design model, I'll report it to your manager and she'll handle it from there."

Seonji is all sweaty and faltering when she hears, "I see you anywhere near Y/N without any official need, I'll make sure you're stepping down your position."

To those who thought Jeonghan has changed, they just witnessed the infamous scary Yoon Jeonghan again today.

They also realised that Jeonghan is still the same authoritative, strict and stoic faced coordinator for all.

He has changed, just for you.

"When are you gonna tell her?", Soonyoung asks wrapping his arm around Seokmin's shoulder as they gather on the rooftop during the lunch break.

Seokmin is torn.

"She's coping up with the pent ups because of Jeonghan and I don't wanna add to her stress.", he laments.

"I hate to admit that you're correct but I'm worried because I think if you don't shot your shoot now then it'll be gone.", Soonyoung's concern is evident in his tone.

"I can't just tell Y/N that I love her all of a sudden when she's in love with someone else for a long time.", it pains him to speak it out, "Because I know how painful unrequited love can be..."

Soonyoung sighs, as he frames his next question carefully, "When will be the right time, Seokmin?

There's never a right time, he thinks.

Jeonghan doesn't avail the elevator, he's climbing down the stairs hurriedly.

When he decided to go the rooftop to cool off after the Seonji episode he again unintendedly overhears the conversation between Soonyoung and Seokmin, the two men obviously staying oblivious about his presence.

His anger from before morphs into a mix of shock and scare. Shock because it didn't occur to him ever that Seokmin could be in love with you. Scared because, well he is yet to figure out the reason.

Walking through the hoistway door leads his chance encounter with Mr. Choi, your manager.

"Jeonghan", he calls him, "I have been meaning to meet you."

"Anything urgent Mr. Choi?"

Mr. Choi smiles, "It might be, for your concern. Y/N has requested for transfer, she wants to move out the team."

Jeonghan stiffens, all the strength in his body dwindles.

Carefully studying his face, his unfocused eyes and a lack of response urges Mr. Choi to speak further, "Since you're her immediate senior and she has been working under you for these years, your say would matter because I know no one would want to loose an efficient member like her. If the team has enough effort excluding her then I'd approve her request "

"Thanks for letting me know Mr. Choi. Please put it aside for now, I'll talk to her and get to back to you.", Jeonghan requests and the older man obliges.

You are currently working on reconciliation of a piece of code with all your concentration when there's a knock on your desk. You look up to find Jeonghan who's mutters a serious 'in my cabin now' when your gazes meet before walking into the said room.

You think of everything and anything you could have done to cause any trouble but nothing comes up, so you are immediately off your seat and entering the cabin.

Jeonghan has never felt this exhausted in his entire life, never because of you. When you used to clinge to him it had became a normality, though he never admited it was the only fun and good part of the office hours. You made him feel the belongingness, when everyone was scared of him, you were brave enough to step up and court him.

And now when he sees the indifference in you towards him, learns about Seokmin's feelings for you, he's beyond frustrated.

Another mistake, he channels it in a wrong way and at a wrong time.

"Jeonghan?"

Your call of his name breaks his reverie.

He looks you dead in yours eyes and asks, "You requested a tranfer?"

You knew your manager would be informing Jeonghan and the only obstacle in that request to get approved would be him, the reason you wanted the transfer in first place.

Before you could assert an answer Jeonghan scowls, "Are you really going to bring your personal life to your workspace? Suddenly one day you decide you'll stop liking me or whatever and then you're requesting to be assigned to a different project? Is that what you call professionalism Y/N?"

You are rendered speechless. You don't let those tears pooling in your eyes fall even though you are hurt.

"I thought two years is long enough to know someone", you inhale sharply, "But you don't know me at all. I wasted two years of my life for the guy who just now disregarded my love for him by calling it liking or whatever."

Jeonghan bites his tongue hard when he traces back on the words he had uttered.

"When I had asked you that if it would matter to you if I leave, you had casually slipped out a good riddance. So I'm doing us a favour and you should be happy but you're not.", you are hot in anger and rage, as your gaze tows upon the man infront of you, "You're not happy because no one's buying you coffee, no one's keeping you company, you don't have your files organised, you don't have anyone to take shit from you without retorting. Have you been always this selfish?"

It's his turn to be speechless. He has seemingly fueled every occurance for the past years to work against him currently.

"This is professionalism Yoon Jeonghan.", you tell him, "Me not stalling my growth anymore and letting in space for productivity and skills showcasing for myself is my professionalism. I stayed because of you but I won't do that anymore."

"I'm sorry, please let me clarify things", Jeonghan is eyeing you alarmingly as he walks towards you.

You hold out your arm and his feet instantly roots to the ground.

"Thanks for assuring me that I've made the right decision. You aren't worthy of my love, you never were. I'll stop loving you one day and I'll make sure that day comes soon."

A tear falls down your cheek and then they are streaming altogether. You fail to choke the sobs and Jeonghan says nothing, knowing that the only way he can help you is by keeping his silence.

And when you sprint out of the cabin, he wants nothing but to stop you and engulf you in his embrace. Although he's physically frozen but his mind deducts several conclusions.

He senses by hurting you, he hurts himself tenfold.

He laments on the fact that office is just all work and nothing to look forward to anymore because he misses you.

He likes his personal space invaded only if it's by you.

Maybe it's late but he's sure that his heart is constricting in pain within his chest because it's broken.

This time he's choking a sob, legs giving up as he falls to the ground when he finally accepts that he got his heartbroken even before he realised that he's in love.

That he's in love with you.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #31

A/N: Wahoo, I made it! Thanks so much to everyone who left likes and comments and nice things in the reblogs, you all motivated me to keep going! :D

-

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

xxx i'm alive, i'm just not well

Louisa is surprised when River calls her on a Wednesday morning, and a little concerned. He's been home from hospital for a little over a week and she hasn't heard from him at all, except for one-word responses or thumbs-up emojis when she's texted him to check in.

"Hi. You alright?" she says as soon as she answers.

"Yeah, erm. I just had a favor to ask, if you wouldn't mind. And if the answer is no, then that's fine, just-"

"What do you need, River?" Louisa interrupts, not angrily but she's leaving soon and it sounds like the favor might be a big one.

"Could you give me a ride to work?"

Louisa makes a face. His tone had made it sound like he was going to ask for a huge loan, or help hiding a body. "Don't you have another week of leave?"

"I mean, yes, technically. But I'm losing my mind here, Louisa. I cannot take another day of sitting around in my flat. I'd get a cab, but these crutches are a pain. Please?"

"Did Lamb say you're good to come in?"

"I...haven't asked him. Better to ask forgiveness than permission and all that."

"Right," Louisa scoffs. "Because Lamb is famously a very forgiving man."

"Please, Louisa." There's a hint of genuine desperation in his voice that weakens any reservations Louisa might have had and she sighs.

"Can you be ready in ten minutes?"

"I'm ready now," River says, the relief and eagerness in his voice painfully evident. "Thank you. Coffee's on me."

"There won't be time to pick up coffee and you."

"Okay, then, drinks after work are on me. Or coffee tomorrow. Whichever."

Louisa smiles and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, alright. I'll see you soon, River."

As she drives to River's apartment, she tries to imagine what he's been doing for the past week and is slightly appalled when she comes up with nothing. It's not that she doesn't know him. If anything, they've grown a lot closer the past few months. And now with everything with his granddad, and what she's learned of his parents recently, she feels like she knows him better than ever (maybe more than either of them want). But she has no idea what he does outside of work. He could tell her he does ballet, or collects pieces for an elaborate Christmas village, and she wouldn't be more surprised than if she found out he likes putting together jigsaw puzzles or bingeing Netflix. Somehow, she doesn't think he does any of those things. She's not sure he does anything outside of work.

That would explain why he's so eager to get back. Not that she can judge him for that; Lord knows she's used that place as an escape from her feelings herself.

Louisa parks across the street from River's flat. She doesn't see him on the pavement, so she calls him. The phone rings and rings; he doesn't answer. Suppressing a sigh, she gets out of the car, then changes her mind about suppressing it and sighs, loudly, because being annoyed with River feels better than the worry that's trying to take root in her stomach.

She finds him sitting on his stairs, halfway down with his crutches on the steps beside him. For a second it's funny, but only for a second because then she sees the expression on his face. She's not sure she's ever seen him look so angry. Red rises in his cheeks when he sees her.

"It's these fucking things," he practically spits, giving his crutches a shove and sending one of them clattering toward Louisa. "And these fucking stairs. I fucking hate this!"

Louisa's brow furrows as she starts up the steps toward him. "They did say it would be harder going down than up," she says, trying for levity. He just scowls.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"How have you been getting down before this?" Louisa asks, and River lets out a short, bitter laugh.

"I haven't."

Louisa blinks. "You've just been in your flat for a week straight?"

He shrugs.

"What about groceries?"

"I've been eating a lot of takeaway."

She sighs, reaching toward him to give him a hand up. "Let me help--"

"I don't need help!" River snaps, and Louisa pulls back, frowning. He seems to realize he was too harsh, because some of the fury leaves his expression. "I don't need help," he repeats, and this time he just sounds miserable. "I just need to be better. I'm not well and I need—I need things to be fucking better--"

He cuts himself off with a gasp, his face crumbling. He looks utterly defeated, on the verge of breaking down completely.

"River..." Louisa sits on the steps next to him, and apparently that's the push that sends him over the edge.

He lets out a broken sob, clasping one hand over his mouth like maybe he can push it back, or maybe stop any more from escaping. It accomplishes neither.

"C'mere," Louisa says quietly, scooting closer to him. She puts an arm around his shoulders, feeling a little awkward at first but doing it anyway. He leans against her, and she can feel tremors running through him as he cries. She doesn't say anything. Any concerns about work and being late are forgotten as she holds him.

"I'm so tired," he manages through his tears. "And I'm alone."

There's an ache in Louisa's chest, an old one that hasn't bothered her like this in ages. Her immediate instinct is to push it away, like she's been doing, but something tells her that that's not what River needs right now. She takes a shaky breath.

"I know it feels that way," she says around the growing lump in her throat. "Believe me, River, I know. But you aren't. Or, you don't have to be, anyway."

River doesn't answer, but he seems to be calming down some. He takes a deep, shuddery breath.

"I went and saw him, the day before everything."

Louisa doesn't have to ask who him is. River takes another breath before he continues.

"It was like he was there, but he wasn't. He didn't...didn't speak to me. Didn't look at me. And at first I thought he was just angry with me, that he was deliberately ignoring me, but..." He gives a helpless shrug. "He's been worse since I put him in that place. And I know that what he did, what he gave Harkness...it's unthinkable. But he did it for my mum, and he did it for me. He did everything for me, and I couldn't do the one thing...Fuck."

Louisa holds him a little tighter. "I'm so sorry, River."

"And now I can't even walk down the fucking stairs," River adds with a small, watery laugh. He pulls away from Louisa, wiping at his face. "God, I don't know what all that was about. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me," Louisa says. Her mobile buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out of her pocket, glancing down at the screen. "Shit."

"What?"

Louisa puts her phone back. "It's Catherine. I'm late and Lamb's pissed."

"Oh! You can go, I'll be...well, I'll manage."

Louisa stands and extends a hand. "You're coming to work. Come on!"

"Louisa..." River begins. "I don't--"

She shakes her head. "Nope! You're coming. And then we're going out for drinks. You promised."

River's brow furrows. "I don't think I promised. But I did say that I'd buy you a drink."

"Drinks. Plural."

"Right. Drinks."

He reaches up and takes her hand and she hauls him upward, helping him get his crutches situated. Once he's upright, he looks down the flight of stairs with a small sigh. And then determination flashes across his features and he takes a deep breath and nods once.

"I've got this."

Louisa smiles. "You've got this."

xxx end

[inquisimer]

dragon age oneshot fic recs

@dreadfutures said that we should do more fic recs and she's absolutely right, so I'm starting what will hopefully be a series of fic rec lists, leading off with some oneshot recs! These are just standalone stories that don't require a big time commitment and definitely stuck with me after I read them.

Check them out! and leave a comment or kudos to let the author know you did 💜

Feel free to reblog this post and add your own oneshot fic recs! Or make your own fic rec post and tag me in it so I can read and promote your awesome recs :3

-

My Lover's Phylactery by FrodaB

Cullen Rutherford/Female Inquisitor | G | 1472 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: She doesn't destory it Mer's Rec: this is an excellent piece that fills the gap DAI left (imho) about Trevelyan's phylactery! There's some excellent introspection from the Inquisitor and a bittersweet but somft and heartfelt ending between Cullen and his love.

Bent, Not Broken by spirrum (@spirrum)

Fenris/Female Hawke | G | 1595 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: In which Hawke doesn't run off to Weisshaupt, and an angry elf turns up at the Inquisition's door. Mer's Rec: this is a little slice of interpersonal relationships that beautifully captures Hawke's spirit! It starts with some platonic Hawke & Varric, perfectly encapsulating the exhaustion both of them feel after HLTA, and transitions smoothly into the heart-tugging reunion between Hawke and a frustrated Fenris who's very much in love.

last man standing (perhaps) by havvke (Wintertree)

Charade Amell & Carver Hawke & Female Hawke | T | 6749 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Hawke’s teeth glinted when she grinned, except for the gap of her missing left dogtooth. Funny how they did that, even in such poor lighting. Glinting. Hawke barely seemed real. They’ve gone on a mission or two together since that initial, embarrassingly disastrous meeting, and it was still shocking that the woman lived up—if not surpassed—her nearly legendary status. Compared to the other missions Charade led with the Jennies, this was somewhat easier than her normal fare. But while Hawke was a known figure, and by technicality kin, Charade still didn’t know her. Mer's Rec: Okay, I'm admittedly biased toward this piece, because it was a gift for me as part of the 2023 Platonic Ideal Exchange. That being said, it is an INCREDIBLE work of sibling dynamics and I think of it whenever I think about Charade Amell. Havvke explores the relationship between Charade as a Red Jenny, Carver as a Grey Warden, and Hawke as...Hawke, in a beautiful web of complicated choices and found family. Over a year later, it still holds up as one of the best exchange gifts I've ever received.

Doggone by leggywillow (@leggywillow)

Alistair/Female Warden, Alistair & Anora Mac Tir, Alistair & Warden's Mabari | T | 3042 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Alistair and the Warden are no longer together, but they still exchange letters - through Dog. Alistair struggles to find happiness in his life as king, but he isn't entirely alone. Mer's Rec: I read this one just recently and oh my GOODNESS it both made me laugh and also pulled at my heartstrings. Leggy alters the canon breakup between a King Alistair & the Warden to be somehow even more heartbreaking and the way that he talks to Dog is just so essentially Alistair, I could hear every line in his voice. Add to that several well done bits between Alistair & Anora and this piece absolutely delivers on the "sad" and "heartache" in the additional tags.

That Word You Call Me by thewitchofthewilds (gossamerstarsxx) (@saiyanshewolf)

Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford | T | 1768 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: The first time she tells him she loves him is the time he needs to hear it the most Mer's Rec: I love this piece for the intermingling of angst and fluff between Lavellan and Cullen. It leads in with one of the better descriptions of nightmare panic that I've seen and the way that Lavellan grounds Cullen from it is smooth and heartfelt, as is his reaction to her comfort. It caps off with some sweet fluff and a taste of human/elf relationships dynamics, for which I am a sucker, and which end the fic on soft, heartfelt note.

[fe-smashorpass]

Introduction! (Please Read)

Inspired by other smash or pass blogs, this one is about Fire Emblem characters!

My name is Mod Garn and I use she/her!

Will only be posting characters who are 18+ but since this is Fire Emblem not everyone has a canon age. Even if they do, a character's age can be called into question (here’s another post I made on this topic). TL;DR I'll be arbitrarily judging a character if they look old enough for this. If you think a character should or shouldn't be here, I am sorry.

I will be doing almost every character in the franchise, including from the mainline and spin-off games, one off generics, the cipher exclusives, and manga exclusives.

Also I am splitting up characters who are technically the same character but under different identities.

Characters that will be excluded are:

underage characters (as mentioned before)

characters without any pictures of them

Characters who share the same portrait as each other since that would be redundant

Generic portraits for classes, so if a character uses a generic class portrait (ex the 10 elites from fe3h) they won't be included (the only exceptions are Abysskeeper and Gatekeeper)

I'll be posting 3 characters a day, alphabetically, (unless a new character drops with a name that starts with a letter that’s already finished), at 12PM EST.

Also thank you to reddit user u/Just_Nefariousness55 for making this post compiling every character in the games. My life was made so much easier because of you.

#fe smash or pass and #fire emblem smash or pass are the tags used for the actual smash or pass polls

FAQ under the cut (please read!)

Q. Why? A. Because I can

Q. What’s the age limit of the polls? A. I’d rather not have any underage people rebloging/commenting/liking on the smash or pass polls (for y’all’s safety)

Q. Why are people smashing/passing X character? A. IDK!!! Maybe to piss people off. Maybe the character is not as hot as you think. Maybe something else. Baseline is… I don’t know!

Q. Can you post X character? A. No, as I've stated before, I post characters alphabetically (unless a new character drops with a name that starts with a letter that’s already finished) and certain characters will be excluded due to a multitude of reasons (read above). If you're asking me if I were to smash or pass a certain character, please specify and I will answer.

Q. Can you add a “not attracted to character’s gender” option? A. No I don’t think it’s necessary to have, you can just press “pass” or not vote at all

Q. Why is fe2 Nuibaba your pfp? A. It funni

Q. IDK this character, can I still participate in the poll? A. Sure! You can decide whether to smash or pass just based on looks

Q. Can I explain the reason why I would/wouldn't smash? A. Yes cause I'm nosey

Q. What will happen once you’re finished with all the characters? A. I’ll do the generic portraits for classes and idk what will happen afterwards

Q. Are you a fan of Digimon? A. Yes :}

[prythianpages]

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

@acoazlove tysm for the tag! <3

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

Technically, 9,679. I did make an AO3 account but I got intimidated by all the tagging so I only transferred over one fic.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

I wrote 49 fics this year, which is crazy to me. I didn't know how many I had written! But don't ask me how many series I've completed bc it's 0 lol

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I currently have 7 ongoing fics but 3 are my witch aus so they're just interconnected one-shots.

4. What was your favourite thing you wrote?

I did answer my favorite fic to have written in 2024 here. If I had to pick a second one, it'd be my Cas fic, Lay All Your Love on Me.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say it's my Eris fic, I Can't Pretend. It's part of my Like An Angel series. I had written smut before this one but it was my first time writing Eris smut & I wanted it to be a heat of the moment thing but also soft. For this series, there had also been a lot of pining & longing, so I didn't want that moment to feel rushed.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or reception?

It was my fic, Be Patient. This one was part two to my one-shot or what was originally only a one-shot lol, Be Safe. I didn't expect there to be so much demand for part two and I aimed to please here but I was also really stressed & worried that part two would not live up to expectations. Though I wrote it, I felt disconnected to it so I thought it was going to flop but part two did better than part one. It honestly shocked me!

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved and went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

A Thousand Feelings. This one is an Az x Rhys's sister OC. I haven't written many OCs but I have noticed that they get significantly less love than x reader. I love this one though since it was inspired by my fav holiday, Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead.)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

ABBA. Literally all my fics from the beginning of 2024 were inspired by an ABBA song. If you read the titles of most of my fics, you might also recognize some other artists/songs like Hozier, No Doubt, The Smiths (just a few of many. I listen to anything except for country.)

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

Honestly, all my mutuals <3 There's too many to list but I love reading their stuff. I can't remember who was the first fanfic writer I followed on here (I was a silent reader for a bit until I finally made an acotar blog.)

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@kymawrites! She's not new to tumblr, I just happened to stumble upon her fic, Pure Love late. Absolutely loved it and am excited to read more from her masterlist! <3

11. Did you start any collaborations? How did you start it?

I haven't. I get too intimidated by other writers. They're writing is just so good that my anxiety gets the best of me & tells me that I'd ruin any collab.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I'd say writing part two to Be Safe lol. It took me 3 months to finish but I was determined to come through with that part two 🫡

13.what did you learn about writing or creating this year?

To not care so much about notes/comments. Obviously, I love getting feedback on my fics (especially comments) but getting too caught up in that can be draining & take the fun out of writing. Now, I just write what I want to keep it fun.

14. What is your advice?

My advice for writing is to just keep writing but don't burn yourself out. Way easier said than done, though. Because right now, I'm dealing with a bit of writer's block so I tell myself it's okay if I only get like one new sentence in. It's better than nothing.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

To start & finish a fic with consistent updates and to participate more in ACOTAR weeks. This past year, I only participated in Cas's & Eris's week & it was all last minute. I'd like to be better prepared this year.

Tagging: @ninthcircleofprythian, @sarawritestories, @kymawrites (no pressure though!)

[ladamedusoif]

Visiting - Chapter 7: Forget Who We Are

(Moodboard by the wonderful @cutesyscreenname)

Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in a small New England town, to spend a year expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor of art history at a small liberal arts college. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Chapter summary: As the semester winds to a close, and Lydia and Ben prepare to go their separate ways for the holidays, it's time to face facts about what happened at Thanksgiving - and indulge in some holiday cheer.

Word Count: 11.4k (it's worth it)

Rating: Explicit (MDNI; 18+) - for real.

Content (chapter specific): Smut; Professor Ben College AU; smaller-than-usual-for-this-fandom age gap (Lydia turns 42, and Ben is 47); canon is not a thing here; slow burn; idiots-to-lovers; fingering; oral sex (F and M receiving); praise kink; tongue-in-cheek size kink; discussions of sexual health and explicit consent; Ben and Lyd are consent masters; safe but technically unprotected PiV sex (talk about it first, people); creampie; strong language; alcohol consumption; weight and body insecurity; references to the holidays; did I mention the smut?; tiny bit of angst for good measure; smutty mcsmutterson.

A/N: The title of this chapter is taken from Father John Misty's song "Real Love Baby", which - to quote @julesonrecord - has become one of the songs for this pair of idiots as they come to terms with what they feel about each other. I listened to this a lot while drafting and writing this chapter.

I'd also recommend the classic "Fall at Your Feet" by Crowded House as a song with an appropriate vibe for this chapter. (God, I love this song so much.)

("Who knows where that might lead?" jeez alright Neil Finn hit me in the feels, why don't you?)

I'm so grateful for all the love I've had for this story and for this pair. Every comment and reblog and ask is a little lift to my soul (I mean that!)

And I'm extra pleased to be posting this important chapter this week, given that OG SNL Ben, the character that got into my head and made me think "imagine that man as a college professor of literature", is technically now Emmy-nominated.

They're idiots, the love might be requited, but they still have a long way to go, trust me.

Further A/N after the chapter to avoid spoilers.

See the Series Masterlist for an outline of Lydia's story and background.

Cross-posting to AO3 (got delayed this week because of The Attack!)

Thanks, as ever, to @lunapascal and @julesonrecord for loving Bendie as much as I do, and for being patient sounding boards as I work out how to tell this vital part of their story.

Taglist: @lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @cutesyscreenname, @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @perennialdoll247, @love-the-abyss, @imaswellkid, @intheorangebedroom, @javierisms, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @littlemisspascal, @khindahra, @pedrostories, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @ruebyretro, @rhoorl

“So you’re in at what time tomorrow?”

“It’s not tomorrow, mom, it’s the day after tomorrow. Actually, it might be the day after the day after tomorrow with the time difference? Let me check, I’ll confirm later.”

You’re discussing the final arrangements for your flight home for the holidays with your mother by phone, while simultaneously checking over your end-of-semester to-do list. 

There’s always a certain giddiness in the air - tempered with panic, as everyone tries to get as much work as possible wrapped up - as the first semester winds to a close for the winter holidays and the student body starts to thin out, and Barrow is no exception. All that’s left on the calendar are two events, happening tomorrow: the Founders’ Luncheon, a formal event considered a vital part of the college’s fundraising activity; and - much more importantly, from a faculty staff perspective - the informal annual staff holiday party, held in the evening. 

You zone out a little as your mother starts telling you how busy she is with the preparations for the holidays. Looking through the glass panel in your door, you see a familiar figure standing further down the hallway, glasses dangling from his mouth as he opens his office door while juggling a stack of books. 

A little smile creeps across your face, but there’s an ache in your chest: yearning tempered with uncertainty. You haven’t actually seen Ben in person since Thanksgiving. He’d been away at a big comparative literature conference in the south, and by the time he’d got back you were leaving for New York, where you were speaking at a week-long conference on eighteenth-century art. 

You’d been in touch, though. While you were both away, you kept up the constant back-and-forth of messages that you’d grown used to over the last couple of months, a steady stream of jokes and gifs and selfies and commentary on everything: from the books you were reading to the shows you were watching, to the most mundane, everyday experiences. 

Well, almost everything. In all of those exchanges, neither of you had ever brought up Thanksgiving, or the accidental, sort-of “kiss” that had haunted your dreams and fantasies over the last couple of weeks.

Ben turns just as he’s about to go into his office. He smiles, raises a hand, and gives you a little wave

“Hey there, stranger.”

He’s there at your door, a mug of coffee in each hand, as usual, and a soft, if nervous, smile on his face. 

“Hey stranger, yourself.” You take your coffee gratefully and sit back in your desk chair. “Why does it feel like I haven’t seen you in forever?”

Ben shrugs and leans against the doorframe. “Conferences, travel - and I guess it feels longer because we’ve seen each other pretty much every workday, right?” He takes a substantial sip from his mug, and looks at you. “I can’t stay, I’ve got a supervision meeting, but, um, how have you been? How was the conference?”

You throw your head back and flail your hands excitedly. “Oh my god, it was amazing! Full disclosure - I might have skipped the occasional session because I was in New fucking York. But it was so worth it. And the paper seemed to go well, so - all good. How was yours?”

He exhales and shakes his head, rolling his eyes for comic effect. “The paper was a rushed job, I was basically in a hotel in Louisiana for four days, my daily treat was a trip to the CVS across the road, as you know - but yeah, the discussions were good, the work was interesting…” He raises an eyebrow and smiles mischievously. “Still - clearly I should have become an art historian purely for the conference locations.”

Neither of you seems willing - or able - to bring up the elephant in the room. Perhaps you just didn’t need to talk about it. You’d both seemed surprised by the “kiss”. You both seemed to understand it as unintentional. Maybe further discussion was unnecessary. 

You reach into your desk drawer to retrieve a pack of luridly-frosted holiday cookies. “Hey, take a couple of these for that meeting. You need the extra sugar and artificial ingredients to get you to the end of the semester.” 

Ben’s face lights up. He walks over to the desk and takes two of the cookies, holding them in his big palm carefully. “Damn right I do.” He looks down at you, and you feel the smile spreading across your face at the sight of those eyes at close quarters. 

You take a deep breath. “Ben, I -”

A knock at your office door, still ajar. To your surprise, it’s David.

“Hi Lyd, hi Ben - I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Not at all,” Ben reassures him. “I was just leaving.” He turns back to face you before he leaves the office. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lyddie, at the luncheon?” 

You nod. “And the holiday party. For god’s sake, don’t forget about the party or Susan might kill you.”

He grins, pats David on the shoulder, and wanders down the hall to his office. David closes your office door and sits in the chair in front of your desk.

You extend the pack of cookies towards him. “Help yourself and try not to think about the amount of edible glitter involved. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

David gingerly picks up a cookie shaped like a snowman. “I’ve been up with Evan this week, and realised I wouldn’t see you before you go home,” he explains, nibbling a little of his cookie. “I wanted to call by and wish you safe travels and happy holidays.”

Before you can start to return the sentiment he puts up a hand, gently. 

“There is something else. Lydia, can I say something to you? Between us. It will never leave this room.”

You shift in your chair. “Sure, of course - oh shit. Is… is Evan okay?”

David smiles and nods, reassuring you. “He’s fine. It’s not about Evan, actually. It’s about you.” 

You feel your eyebrows shoot upwards. 

“Well, really… it’s about you. And Ben.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. 

You get a sudden, strong memory of David in the cab on the night of your birthday drinks, looking at you intently as Evan confirmed that Ben was single, contrary to Amy’s rumour mongering. 

What did he know?

“Oh, okay. Okay.”

“I don’t know how else to put this, Lyd, but I think that man - I think Ben has feelings for you. Strong feelings.”

You feel your face heat and your mouth start to dry up. There might even be tears pricking your eyes. You try as best you can to control your breathing.

“David, no. I don’t think so. He’s never done anything to suggest otherwise, and he’s had the chance, so -”

David tilts his head to one side, his eyes kind and serious. 

“Lydia, I’m a theatre scholar. I study bodies and expressions for a living. I know what’s real, and I know what’s performed. And I’ve seen you two together enough, and heard each of you talk about the other enough times, to know that he has real feelings for you.” He looks at you intently. “And… to be fairly certain that you have feelings for Ben, too.”

The pricking sensation has turned to real tears, rolling heavy and slow down your cheeks.

“Please, please don’t tell Evan.”

David crosses to your side of the desk and wraps an arm around you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay.” He hugs you as you protest that Ben just wants to be your friend, that he couldn’t possibly want someone like you, and then pulls away, looking at you face on.

“All that might be true. Maybe. But…just see. See what happens if you let the light in, just a little. You might be surprised.”

Before you leave work that evening, you pop into the main faculty office, a small, festively-wrapped parcel in your hands. Susan barely notices you pass, wrapped up in counting glasses and bottles of wine for the party the next day.

You scan the rows of cubbyholes, each one labelled in alphabetical order for a staff member, until you find it: 

B.E. Morales

You place the little parcel on top of a couple of academic publisher catalogues, addressed to Ben. 

A couple of rows above his, you notice something in your own mailbox: a gift box with a Post-It on top. 

Another explanatory Post-It, you think, placing the box in a tote bag.

A very small Christmas gift, if you have room in your suitcase. - B.

You bring it home and place it carefully in your hand luggage.

Your invite to the Founders’ Luncheon had arrived just before Thanksgiving: a small, gold-edged cream-coloured card with the event details printed on it in elegant black lettering. 

“Does everyone attend this?” you’d asked Susan, studying the invite carefully. 

She shook her head. “A select few. We usually nominate the visiting professor to attend, though - so be prepared to smile and gladhand anyone who looks like they might be willing to donate to support the diversity and inclusion project. Or maybe even a new wing for the library, if you’re extra convincing.”

You hummed thoughtfully, wondering what you could dredge up from your wardrobe that would be formal enough for the luncheon and still be appropriately festive for the party later the same day. 

“You’ll have at least one familiar face there, though,” Susan added, stacking a pile of freshly-copied course materials. “Ben’s been asked to deliver the address that kicks off proceedings - trying to get philanthropic support for the diversity stuff he’s been working on. He’s nervous as all hell about it - you can imagine - but I think he’ll be pleased to know he has you there for moral support.”

In the end, you’d plumped for a crimson vintage-style swing dress with three-quarter length sleeves and a cross-over neckline: demure enough to wear to the lunch and look like a Serious Intellectual, but ready to be dressed up with some well-chosen holiday accessories for the party later. 

Though Ani insisted it was nothing fancy, everyone seemed extremely excited for the holiday shindig: a gathering of colleagues in one of the bigger teaching rooms in the building, fuelled by eggnog, wine, and party food. You had already heard in detail about Evan’s carefully-curated playlists. It seemed like the perfect way to blow off a little steam after a busy semester.

The party was due to start about 5pm, but first there was a formal lunch to contend with. All morning, you’d been silently repeating ‘elevator pitches’ about your work, the importance of the progress already made in diversity and inclusion, and the resources the college needed to continue it. Visitor or not, you were ready to do your best with the wealthy donors who might write a fat cheque - and get a tax break in return. 

You’re running over the list of talking points in your head as you meander down the corridor on your way to your office, about an hour before the luncheon is due to begin. 

“Motherfucker!”

The loud swearing stops you in your tracks. His door is ajar. You knock lightly. 

“Come in.” Ben turns, sounding frustrated, but brightens and visibly relaxes when he realises it’s you. 

“Oh, hi Lyd! Sorry, I’m just…” He stops and runs his eyes over you from top to toe. “Wow, you look…great.”

You can feel your face burning, and try to deflect from his words. “So do you. I mean… you’re all fancy.”

He’s dressed more formally than you’ve ever seen before. A white button-down shirt, slim navy dress pants, black lace-up Oxfords. The collar of his shirt is turned up, and he’s holding the source of his irritation: a dark green tie.

Oh, fuck me. He looks so good.

He exhales sadly. “I can do this without a mirror - usually. But it’s like I can’t remember how to do it today, and I think I’m losing it.”

“Might also be because you’re thinking about the speech, no?” 

He sighs and looks a little sheepish. “You know me too well, Lyddie.” 

You feel heat spread at the nape of your neck. Pull yourself together. 

“Can I help at all? With the tie? I could act as your mirror, or help to get it right…”

His eyes light up and he drapes the tie around his neck again. “Oh, please? I need to run through the address one more time and I’m already late. Here: it’s probably quicker if you just do it for me at this stage.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Your instinctive need to help had overridden whether or not you could actually cope with this: physical proximity, first of all, but then having to tie Ben’s tie? With all the intimate domesticity it implied? It could end you there and then. 

You take a deep breath and move a little closer, taking each end of the tie in your hands. 

“I can literally do one knot, so I hope this is what you’re after,” you say, and he laughs lightly. You begin to knot his tie, muscle memory kicking in from your school days, when a tie was part of your convent school uniform. By necessity, you’ve had to edge closer still to him, and you can feel his dark eyes burning into you as he watches your fingers work. 

David’s words from the day before continue to run through your brain on a permanent loop. 

Let the light in, just a little. 

You look at Ben through your lashes, mouth drying and a telltale throb fluttering through your core. 

“Hope I’ve done this right. I’ll just adjust it and then I can take a picture so you can check.” You tighten the knot slightly and work it up towards the hollow of his neck, eyes trailing up to meet his gaze. 

Let the light in. 

You bring your hands up to fold down his collar and, almost without thinking, graze your fingertips off the grey patches that you love so much, just at the corners of his jaw. 

Ben closes his eyes for a moment, and you can see his breathing speeding up slightly. He swallows hard.

“I meant it.”

You fold down the collar and adjust the knot, praying that your heart will stop beating quite so quickly and that the ache between your legs will dissipate. Still, you don’t stop touching him, bringing your right hand to rest lightly on his chest, just over his heart.

“Meant what?”

He opens his eyes and looks at you. “I meant it. On Thanksgiving. I…meant to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen and your features soften in understanding. “Ohhhh.”

He brings one hand up and places it over yours. “I know you didn’t mean it, you went in for a kiss on the cheek and - I’m sorry, I just have to tell you, Lyd. I… I wanted to. And I should have kept kissing you, the way I wanted to.” 

With his free hand, he strokes your cheek with his long fingers, the warm span of his palm carefully cupping your jaw as if you’re the most delicate thing in the world. 

You smile shyly, reciprocating his gesture as you stroke your thumb along the scruff on his jaw. “I was going in for a kiss on the cheek…but I meant it, too. I wish I’d been braver that night.” You giggle. “And yes, you should definitely have kept kissing me.”

For an instant you remember the defences you’ve built up around yourself: around your heart and your soul. They were a protection and a comfort, a suit of armour deflecting even the slightest possibility of future pain and loss. You cannot be hurt or disappointed if you never expect anything. Never let anyone in.

But even the best armour is not completely impenetrable. The first weakness was exposed the day you realised what you actually felt for this man, even if you could barely admit it to yourself. 

Smiling softly, Ben drops his arm to your waist to pull you close to him, continuing to caress your cheek with his free hand. “You…you’re so beautiful. I…”

His tongue darts fleetingly across his lips, as if he’s looking at a delicious morsel, and it’s enough to make you almost feral with sheer desire. 

He angles his head slightly, gently nudging at your nose with his. His soft, pink lips meet yours, slightly open, in a warm, perfect kiss.

With a light moan, your tongue immediately seeks entrance to his mouth. He tastes of peppermint and coffee, of sweetness and bitterness all at once. You reach for his tie, not breaking the kiss, and gently tug him along with you as you walk backwards towards the wall of his office until he’s almost pressing you into it. 

As he kisses you ever more deeply, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in, tight as he can to his body, slowly moving his hands over your back and hips, and trailing his fingertips across your ass. In return, you run your hands through his hair and stroke your fingers down one side of his neck, eliciting a groan from him, before breaking away to wrap your arms around the broad span of his back. 

You have felt his warm body before, when you’d hugged, but this was something else entirely. No need to worry about whether you’d lingered a little too long in his arms. No need to suppress the desires that had haunted and tormented you. Now it was time to express them.

Ben breaks off the kiss momentarily, pausing to look at you with those intelligent, sensitive, coffee-brown eyes. A wide grin spreads across his handsome face. You feel his cock pressing, half-hard, against you in his dress pants. The sensation sends another wave of wetness to your centre. 

“What are you smiling at, Professor?”

“You. Beautiful, gorgeous you.” 

It’s all you can do to stop the happy tears from falling. Instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him in for a deep kiss, hungrily tasting each other. He breaks away and moves his mouth to your neck, pulling a moan of desire from you that’s probably louder than was wise in a workplace. 

He’s working his way down to your collarbone when your eyes snap open and you freeze. Ben looks at you with concern. 

“Are you okay? Is this too much? We can stop. We can slow down. Whatever you…”

You shake your head frantically. “I wish we didn’t have to stop but, Ben: the fucking luncheon!”

His eyes widen in panic. “Oh, FUCK! FUUUUUCK! What time is it? Fuck fuck fuck -”

You look at your phone and try to calm him down. “You’re fine, you’ve got like twenty minutes before it starts. Hey,” you reach for his hand, “remember the message of Hitchhiker’s Guide? Don’t Panic. And maybe relax a bit, so you’re not… visible. Ahem.”

He raises an eyebrow and laughs. His breathing slows a little, and he squeezes your hand gratefully before planting a final, chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you over there. Might be a bit late for the holiday party, depending on how many people they want me to meet after, but we can, uh, pick up where we left off?”

He looks so sweet and so painfully shy that you almost can’t believe this is the same man who was pushing you into a wall and kissing you like his life depended on it only a few minutes before. 

You lean in for just one more kiss. “Abso-fucking-lutely we can.”

His address to the luncheon is, unsurprisingly, brilliant. Erudite, warm, funny: infused with the passion you saw him bring to his work and to his subject every day. He is so talented: he wears his learning lightly, his natural charm working to hook the audience in and hang on his every word.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he looks so gorgeous up there at the podium: smart suit, curls neater than usual (you suspect he’d run some wax through his hair after you left him), and that tie.

That fucking tie. You can’t even look at it, because it immediately sends your brain right back to the feeling of tugging it to pull him against you, to the taste of him, to the way his big hands roved over you, gentle but needy, to the way his body revealed just how turned on he’d become by kissing and touching you. 

Fuck. You try to ignore the ache between your legs, choosing to focus instead on the handsome man at the podium. 

You listen attentively to Ben making a powerful case to the large hall full of wealthy donors for the importance of making arts and humanities education accessible. The room fills with applause as he brings his address to a close, and you clap as loud as you can, looking at him with a broad smile on your face. As he walks across the stage, he turns and spots you. 

“Was it okay?” He mouths the words towards you. 

You nod enthusiastically, and give a subtle thumbs up. He does a tiny air punch, and grins at you as he disappears off stage. 

“I’ve switched up the playlists - no one really wants more than an hour of festive hits, even if it’s curated by me. Vegan no-pig in blanket?”

Evan proffers a tray of party snacks, having come over to join you near the tables set up with drinks and food. The music has become much more eclectic: fewer holiday hits, many more danceable, extremely cool, crowd pleasers. A few people are even starting to clear space in the centre of the room as a makeshift dancefloor. 

“Where’s Benjamin?” Evan asks as you chew on a no-pig in blanket. “You’re normally joined at the hip.”

You try not to choke on the pastry, grabbing a glass of red wine to wash down the food. “He was doing the address at the founders’ thing, remember? I think they wanted him to stay around afterwards to meet possible donors. It’s all about the diversity and inclusion programme.”

Evan nods, satisfied. “I’m not keeping any food for him, though.”

The strains of “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” are abruptly cut off as Jen Arden taps on her wine glass. “Head of department holiday speech time! Don’t worry, I won’t keep you from your partying too long - I want to see everyone out on that floor!” 

Her words are succinct but heartfelt, thanking everyone for the hard work that had made the semester successful and noting your arrival and integration into the Barrow community. You blush slightly as the eyes of the room turn in your direction. 

“And as some of you know, Ben Morales delivered the address at the annual Founders Luncheon today - an important part of fundraising for the inclusion programme he’s been spearheading.” Jen looks around the room, seeking out her friend, eyes resting on the doorway as Ben finally arrives. “And here he is now!”

Ben shyly acknowledges the applause in the room, making a beeline for the food and drink. Pure coincidence, of course, that you happened to be standing over there, too. He stands behind you and greets Evan. 

“Well, did you secure the megabucks? Are there hessian sacks printed with dollar signs currently filling your office?”

Ben huffs a laugh. “We have to wait and see, I guess. They seemed nice. Weird, though, talking to people you know are multi-millionaires. Billionaires, even. You keep thinking, ‘why do you need all that money?’”

He shakes his head and reaches for a glass of red wine. As he does so, he trails his hand along your lower back, fingertips grazing the top of your ass. For an instant you wonder if it was an accident, until you feel the palm of his hand pressing lightly but deliberately into the small of your back. 

Evan is talking at length about the snack selection at this year’s party and is clearly oblivious to Ben’s shenanigans and the heat rising in your face as you struggle to maintain your composure. Glass of wine obtained, Ben continues the conversation with Evan, studiously avoiding your attempts to catch his eye.

He’d been explaining his holiday plans - Ben is going west, trying to make up for some of the time lost when he cancelled his trip at Thanksgiving, and is really excited about it - when Evan spots an incoming call on his phone. “Oh shit, it’s my mom. I better go talk to her - sorry guys!”

He exits the room, already talking loudly to his mother about her holiday menu plans. 

As soon as you’re both alone, you swivel to face Ben head-on. 

“Um, excuse me?”

He smirks. “Excuse you?”

“Benjamin Ernesto Morales. You know what I’m talking about. You’re lucky I didn’t spontaneously combust in front of Evan.”

He chuckles. “Ah, that was just a friendly hand placement. Nothing more to it.” He arches an eyebrow, and once again you can feel desire - no, need - rushing through you. The urge to kiss him here, in front of everyone, without a thought for the (possible) consequences, is overwhelming. 

“You, sir, are a menace. Why didn’t I know about this before?”

He does that half-smile that makes you melt, and shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, on another topic - where’s Ani?”

“They messaged me this morning. In bed with a migraine, poor thing. I think these things wait until the end of the semester, just when you’re about to relax, and then bam.”

He makes a sympathetic face and nibbles on a cookie. “So it’s just us, then?” His gaze is both gentle and flirtatious.

“Us, and the rest of the faculty.” You gesture around the room, giving him a look that says “no funny business”.

He gently moves his hand along the edge of the table until it’s within touching distance of yours, and gently runs his fingertips along the back of your hand. You reciprocate by stroking the side of his hand with the pad of your thumb. 

It’s so stupidly chaste, like something from a Georgette Heyer novel about maidens and gentlemen in Georgian England, and yet it’s one of the sweetest, most intimate things you’ve experienced in a very long time.

Ben’s eyes widen as the music changes and the unmistakable opening bars of “Edge of Seventeen” begin. “Oh, Lyd!” He outright grabs your hand now. “Let’s dance, come on.”

He looks perplexed when you don’t move. You beckon him closer with a tilt of your head, and whisper into his ear, feeling your cheeks heating.

“I can think of something better than dancing, but we might need to be somewhere more, um, private.”

His expression shifts as understanding sets in. “Oh. Ohhh.” He grins, looking you up and down. “Yours or mine?”

Praise be to Stevie Nicks. “Edge of Seventeen” got so many colleagues out on the ‘dancefloor’ that the two of you were able to slip away completely unnoticed.

You unlock the door of your office and switch on your desk lamp before pulling down the blind over the glass panel. The soft light illuminates his handsome features as you turn back to face him: the strong line of his profile; the softness of his mouth, lips slightly parted; the glint in his warm eyes. He’s taken off his suit jacket, and with a smile you suddenly recall the first time you noticed how beautifully broad he was, standing in the kitchen at Evan’s Halloween party.

“Hi, Ben.”

“Hi, Lyddie.”

You’re standing close now, face to face. You walk your fingers up towards the knot of his tie, looking at him through your lashes, and tug it so that he’s right up against you, beautiful dark eyes taking you in. He leans in with a smile and kisses you slowly and deeply, the bristling sensation of his moustache and beard against your lips and face going straight to your core.

The pace was never going to stay slow. You wrap your arms around him and he pulls you tight to his body, moving his hands over your hips and ass and pulling little gasps and moans from you. The mints and coffee of earlier are replaced by the taste of red wine and sugar cookies on his lips and tongue. 

You start to run your hands through his hair, stroking your fingers down the side of his beautiful neck, loosening the knot of his tie, and opening the top buttons on his shirt to create a little more space for you. He inhales sharply when you break away from the kiss to gently lick and nibble at his neck and collarbone. You can feel him hardening against you, again. 

He pulls away slightly, keeping his hands around your waist. For the first time in your life, you actually understand what romance novelists mean when they describe a character as having ‘lust-blown eyes’. Ben’s coffee-brown eyes are near black, pupils dilated and lids heavy, conveying a potent mixture of sweet affection and utter desire. He lifts his hand to stroke your cheek gently, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, before gently moving you towards the edge of your desk. 

He’s nervous. He moves some of the piles of your papers and books out of the way, careful not to disrupt the chaotic ‘order’ you maintain, so you have more room to sit on the desk. As you sit on the edge, you notice his hands are trembling a little. You feel a bit better about the quivering sensation that’s been running through you since you entered the office together, a mixture of desire and nerves.

You hitch up the skirt of your dress a little, opening your legs and creating more room for him as he stands between them, resting his forehead against yours.

“You okay, Ben?”

He looks at you in surprise. “I’m great, Lyd, I’m just…it’s…I’m really glad.” 

You feel a surge of affection in your chest. “So am I. And I’m glad for this tie.” You use it to pull him close to your body again, kissing him hungrily. He leans against you, hands on your waist and back. 

“Is this okay? Can I…touch you, Lydia?”

Something about the way he says your name, softly but purposefully, sends you utterly wild. 

“You know you can, Ben. I’m all yours,” you whisper, edging closer and slowly moving a hand down his broad torso, strong and soft at the same time. You reach his waistband and keep going, brushing your hand lightly over the bulge straining against his dress pants as you maintain eye contact. “I want you.” 

He closes his eyes, letting out a soft moan, before bringing his hands - those beautiful, big hands - up to softly caress your breasts as he moves his mouth to your neck, planting gentle kisses and sucking the skin ever so gently. 

It’s miraculous that you don’t come undone there and then, tipped over the edge by the feeling of his hands on your breasts, his mouth working the sensitive skin at the base of your neck, and his cock growing ever-harder underneath the light massage offered by your palm. Your fingers work at the buttons and zipper of his pants, desperately trying to get access to his hard length. 

He’s pulled up your dress, running his hands up your thighs and towards the warm, wet apex of your legs. He lets out a sigh of pleasure as he traces his long fingers from the top of your stockings to the bare skin of your upper thigh, leaning back to look at your body with a sort of delighted rapture. You silently congratulate yourself for choosing to wear hold-ups instead of regular pantyhose under your dress.

Even in this moment, part of your brain starts to worry about the state of your body and its many flaws, wondering what he is going to think about the you that’s under the scarlet fabric. That said, he seems to be keen so far. He grabs handfuls of the soft flesh on your thighs and hips, grunting with pleasure into your mouth. He feels insatiable already, one hand still caressing your tits as the other slips right between your legs and starts to rub at the soaking crotch of your panties. You’re trying to keep it together, moaning as you move your fingers against the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to take him in your hand and attend to his pleasure.

Suddenly, the lights in the corridor come on. Laughter and loud chatting from a group of colleagues fills the air. Both you and Ben freeze, breaking off the kiss while your hands stay put.

“Shit… do you think they heard us?” you hiss, unsure what the rules are around this kind of thing at Barrow.

He turns to look at the door of the office, trying to see how close the group was. 

“I don’t think so. I don’t think we were that loud, were we?”

You smirk and raise an eyebrow.

“We weren’t, but we were just getting going…”

He rests his forehead on your shoulder and laughs before looking at you again, withdrawing his hands and straightening your dress. 

“Shall we get out of here? I can call a cab…”, he offers as you nod in agreement. He quickly does up his fly before grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and pulling up the relevant app. “This is going to sound so cheesy, but - your place or mine?”

You giggle. “My apartment looks like a packing monster threw up in it, so, if you’re okay with yours…”

He smiles and nods enthusiastically, tapping in the details. “Five minutes. They’ll be at the main entrance.”

“Five minutes, so that’s two minutes to get to the door - and three minutes for another kiss?”

He chuckles deeply and pulls you in again.

Ben fastens his seatbelt in the back of the cab, looking at you expectantly. The street lights have him half in shadow, half in light, and you have to focus for a moment to answer. 

Fuck, he’s so sexy. 

The little voice deep inside you still whispers about how someone as fucking hot as him surely couldn’t want someone like you. But you manage to hush it, focusing on Ben’s beautiful face.

The cab journey is short - no more than five minutes along the quiet streets - but feels like an eternity. You’ve spent the entire ride making out in the back seat, like horny students rather than two forty-something academics. Pulling up at his house, you and Ben try to retain at least a little decorum as you hustle to the front door.

“I hope you gave that guy a good tip,” you joke as Ben fumbles for his keys, one hand resting on your ass.

He grins. “The tip was three times the cost of the ride. Think that should cover him for enduring our, uh, shenanigans?”

The front door opens and the two of you step inside. You pause for a moment to take each other in, you trailing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck while his thumb caresses your cheek. Your lips meet again as you peel off each other’s coats and fall back against the wall in his hallway, your hands fumbling to undo his pants again while he dips his long fingers, finally, into the wet heat between your legs. 

“Oh, fuck!” It feels like you’ve been waiting for him all your life. And, judging by the noises he’s making, the feeling seems to be reciprocated.

“God, Lydia, baby, I can’t believe you’re this wet for me already,” he purrs, sounding genuinely surprised and stroking the inside of your cunt firmly while his thumb works your clit. “You feel so fucking good.”

Ben resumes his work on your neck, moving more urgently now than he had in your office. His moustache and beard brushes against the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulders and makes you wetter still as he continues to massage your clit, occasionally slipping a finger into your pussy. You moan deeply, feeling yourself tightening around his finger as you get ever closer. 

“Fuck, I want you,” he whispers in your ear. “I really want you, Lyddie. I need you. You know?”

You whine with pleasure, one hand inside his briefs palming his cock as he works you to the edge. You can feel the orgasm about to burst deep inside, focused on the sound and sensation of his fingers - Ben’s big, strong fingers  - sliding in and out of you. 

He doesn’t stop, but he sounds a little more vulnerable. “Is that okay? I hope that’s okay,” he continues, and you feel like you’re about to black out.

“I…fuck…that’s more than okay, that’s - Jesus, I want that. And I want you, I need you, to have you, I want you…fuck, Ben! I think I’m going to fucking come, I…”

He looks down to where his hand is working you towards your climax. “That’s it, good girl. You’re so close. Come for me, beautiful girl.”

Good girl. Beautiful girl. Praise kink: activated.

Somehow he manages to look sexy as hell and sweetly shy as he brings you to the edge, eyes warm and dark. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting to make you come, I…I’ve wanted to, so badly.”

You come with a gasp, cunt throbbing and tightening around his fingers. It has been a long time since you’ve come this hard. Your eyes shoot open, looking directly into his. 

He strokes the side of your face with his other hand as he takes you through the aftershocks. Your wetness soaks his fingers as you kiss him, trying to express your gratitude for what he’s made you feel, leaning against the wall of his hallway. 

You break away, able to concentrate more effectively on the way his cock is now fully hard under your hand. “Fuck, baby, that was… holy shit. It’s, uh… it’s been a while.”

He blushes and kisses your forehead. “Can I take you to bed, Lyddie?”

You grin and start to giggle. He looks confused. “What? You don’t want to?”

How can you explain the myriad feelings racing through you in this moment? Excited. Nervous. Happy. Horny.

“I do, Ben. You know I do. I’m just, I dunno, I’m - I’m happy. And I really, really want you.”

He gives you a flash of that sexy fucking smile as he withdraws his hand from your panties and gently moves yours from his cock. 

“Come on.”

Taking your hand, he leads you up the stairs.

You notice almost nothing about Ben’s bedroom as the two of you enter, besides the side lamp he quickly flicks on and the pile of books he moves off the bed before turning his attention back to you. Lips locked, you focus on unbuttoning his shirt while he tries to get your dress off. 

In an instant you are standing before him in black and red bra, black (sensible) high-waisted panties, and hold-ups, his shirt, tie, and pants already discarded.

His eyes widen as he takes you in, gaze lingering over the black lace and red satin of your bra. “Wow. Holy shit.”

Instinctively, you move a step backwards and wrap your arms over your body protectively. You are suddenly overwhelmed by all that is wrong with your body: its size, its awkwardness, the stretch marks from weight lost and (more commonly) gained, marks and scars, a belly that is far too squishy and soft, in your opinion, hips that are too wide, breasts made heavier and less, well, perky with age. And that’s before you get on to your perennially crunchy knees.

You feel every one of your forty-two years, and then some. The fact of his utter gorgeousness leads you to only one conclusion.

God, he’s probably only ever fucked hotter people than me. I can’t compare, surely? 

You feel exposed. The defences - physical, sure, but emotional, too - have been irretrievably breached, and the fear of rejection scares the shit out of you.

The sight of Ben Morales before you, wearing just his boxer briefs (and, you notice for the first time, a pair of candy cane-patterned socks), makes you even more anxious about how you must look to him. He is a gorgeous vision, easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever even seen, let alone gone to bed with: lightly golden skin, strong arms and legs, broad shoulders, and a soft tummy that is as adorable and sexy as you’d imagined. 

And best of all, that beautiful, kind face, now looking at you with real concern.

“Are… are you okay? Lyddie? Are you alright? We can stop, we don’t have to -“

You shake your head and bring your eyes up to meet his. 

“I really don’t want to stop, Ben. I mean it, I want you…I need you in every way. It’s just… I mean, this,” and you gesture loosely to your body. “Like, I’ve had sex since my last relationship but it wasn’t like this, it wasn’t…this. It wasn’t…it didn’t mean…”

He reaches his hands towards you to bring you in for a hug. You take a deep breath as you try to explain properly.

“I haven’t been naked with someone like you…someone I actually care about in a long time. And I’m scared that you won’t like what you see, because you look so good and hot and so beautiful. You’re just so beautiful, Ben. And I…I’m not…”

He holds you closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he whispers. “I wish you could understand what it feels like to have looked at you, to have thought for so long about what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, and now to finally touch you.” He’s blushing. 

“Kinda wish I could see myself the way you seem to see me, too. Don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘beautiful’ before. Before…you.”

He is still holding you, warm and gentle against his broad chest. You are suffused with a feeling of absolute safety. 

“I mean it, Lyd. If you don’t want to go any further we don’t have to.”

You pull back, bringing your arms to your sides and resisting the urge to hide yourself from his gaze. You look him in the eyes and shake your head with a soft smile.

“I know. We’re keeping going. I want this, too.” 

He kisses you and reaches around to undo your bra, struggling against the hooks.

You reach behind you, keeping your eyes on him, and deftly undo the bra. His mouth moves immediately to your breasts, tongue circling first one nipple and then the other before pulling back to admire you, chest rising and falling and eyes widening as he looks at you. 

Has anyone ever looked at you like that before? Like you are the most perfect creature to ever exist?

Mind you, you’re looking at him in much the same way. 

“You are so fucking beautiful, Lyd. You are. Let me show you how gorgeous you are.”

You smile shyly, still a little conscious of your body, and sit back on the side of the bed. 

Oh, shit. The sensible part of your brain butts in, abruptly. 

You need to talk about this now, not in the moment.

“Uh, Ben? Before you do that, can we maybe talk about, um, health and that?”

He looks confused. “Health? I had a cold in October but - oh. Yes. Yes. I get you.”

He scrabbles around for his pants. 

“What are you doing, Ben?”

“Getting my phone to show you my last screening results. We have the tests as an option on annual physicals and I had mine in August.” He locates his phone and looks at you fondly. “Just before you came over, as it happens.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, giggling affectionately. “Ben, love, I trust you. Just tell me, I don’t need to see them.”

He kisses the top of your head. “All good. And you?”

You nod, still feeling deeply awkward but relieved. “Also all good. Last test just before I came over. Funny, that. I’ve got a contraceptive implant thingy, as well.” You point out the little plastic device just under the skin of your upper arm. “And I haven’t been with anyone since, obviously.”

“Me neither.” He grins and whispers in your ear. “I did have a crush on someone in work, though.”

You smile and run a hand over the salt-and-pepper scruff along one side of his face. “A crush, huh? So you were waiting for them?”

He nods and kisses you softly as he gently encourages you to lie back on his bed, before swiftly discarding the candy cane socks and joining you in bed. 

For a couple of moments you just lie there together, hands trailing across each other’s bodies. You look at his handsome face, and the realisation that you’re actually going to sleep with him dawns. It triggers an unfortunate, involuntary surge of giggles.

“Why are you laughing?” He’s running his hand along the curve of your hip, fingers tugging at the waistband of your panties. 

“I’m not laughing, it’s just…” You start giggling again and hide your face against his broad shoulder.

“Okay, that’s definitely laughing. What did I do?”

You look at him and feel the affection and desire catch in your throat. “You didn’t do anything, baby, I’m sorry. It’s just - we’re basically naked and in bed together and…I’m excited?”

He laughs too, now, chest heaving as he pulls you tight and kisses you, slowly and deeply. You reach for his body, leg wrapping around his and one hand slipping to his hard cock while he caresses and sucks on your tits. His hand is inside your panties now, eagerly seeking out the warm, silky wetness of your folds. 

“Going to take these off, is that okay?” You nod, moaning as he tugs down the black fabric and lifting your hips so he can drag them over your ass. You kick them off as he rolls you against him, one hand grabbing the flesh of your ass while the other rubs small circles over your clit. 

You lean back slightly to look at him, your hands now tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I want you naked, too,” you murmur, breasts resting on Ben’s chest. “Want to go down on you for a little bit. Is that okay?”

His eyes widen. “God, yeah. Fuck, please, Lyd.”

His boxers discarded, you move down his body, one hand already gently stroking his hard length. You resist the urge that strikes you to drag your teeth over the soft flesh of his tummy, maybe even to bite him. 

You plant a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, flicking your gaze up to meet his as you take him, hard as hell, between your lips, tongue gently flicking over the head. 

The gesture drives him crazy, and he groans, low and long.

“Fucking hell, you’re good at this. You’re really fucking good at this. So fucking…oh God, Lyd.”

You smile at the praise as you continue to take him deeper into your mouth, fingers tracing around the base of his cock and stroking him lightly. The bulge you’d first felt in his office earlier that evening did not disappoint. 

“Fuck, Lyd, I won’t last if you keep that up,” he hisses, breathing ragged as you use your tongue to lick up and down his shaft. 

Gently, you remove him from your mouth and push yourself back up the mattress, Ben’s strong hands guiding you back into place against the pillows. He drops his hand back to your soaking pussy as you feel the warm, solid softness of his body on yours. You inhale his masculine scent deeply: his cologne, leather, paper, and still a hint of wine from his lips. 

You never want to be anywhere but here. 

He begins to trace a line of kisses from your mouth down to your breasts and tummy, slowly bringing himself down the line of your body until he is nestled between your legs. He runs a finger along a patch of stretch marks on your hip before kissing them softly. With care and a kind of reverence, he plants kisses on the soft flesh of your belly, starting just under your belly button, and working his way down as far as the hair that covers your mound. 

He gently pushes your right leg out to make a little more room and open you up, lifting your leg over his shoulder, before beginning to lick purposefully at your glistening folds. You cry out with pleasure, one hand reaching back to grip the wooden headboard of the bed and the other dropping to the back of Ben’s head. You trail your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, moaning as the line of his nose nudges rhythmically against your clit while his tongue explores you.

It doesn’t take much to bring you back to the edge, and when he brings a finger up to massage you while his tongue slips in and out of your cunt, you come on his face, hips rolling up and back as you climax. 

He grins as he shifts his body back up the bed and you reach for him, pulling him in for a kiss so that you can taste yourself on his lips. He hums with pleasure and pulls back to look at you, rubbing a thumb gently against your cheek before nuzzling in at your neck. His weight against you is somehow devastatingly erotic and perfectly reassuring. 

He pulls back again and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, opening your legs even wider as you feel the heavy, hard length of his cock pulsing against your core. He rolls one of your nipples between the tips of his fingers, letting his broad palm cup the soft flesh of your breast.

Your voice is quiet, but determined. “I want you to fuck me, baby. Please. Fuck me.”

“I’m going to, darling.” He drops a hand to your soaking pussy, making sure you’re ready. He looks deep into your eyes and you try to make a mental screenshot of this moment: what it feels like to have him above you, to have the weight of his body against yours, to feel the tip of his cock nudging at the lips of your cunt; to look into his eyes and see them dark with lust and warm with affection, to have him tracing his fingers across your mouth and jaw before asking, silently, for a final gesture of consent. 

You nod and gently move your hips down as if you’re going to take him into you all by yourself. He moans loudly, guiding himself slowly and steadily inside you until he bottoms out. The stretch makes you gasp, though it’s in no way painful. You close your eyes as you adjust to the sensation of him filling you, warm and heavy.

He’s looking deeply into your eyes when you open them again. “You okay?” He gently strokes the side of your face with his long fingers. 

“Mmmyeah,” you sigh, distracted by the pleasure of having him inside you. “You’re big, you know,” you murmur. “You’re such a big boy.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you screw up your face with embarrassment. 

Lydia, what in the fuck was that? Did he already manage to fuck the filter out of you with his fingers? Did he induce some sort of malfunction in lydiabrain.exe?

Ben’s eyebrows are raised but you can tell he’s trying not to laugh. 

You’re fucking this up, Lyd, as usual. 

“Oh god I’m so cringe, I’m so sorry -“

He stops you with a chuckle and a soft, sweet kiss. “I mean, it’s a hell of a compliment.” He arches an eyebrow and looks endearingly smug. “Would you like your big boy to fuck you now?”, he purrs. 

This time, you’re the one who can’t help but giggle as you roll your eyes in mock horror at the cheesy line and he grins in response. You can’t remember the last time you felt this intimate with a lover. 

“I would like that very much. Move, Ben, please.”

He takes it slowly at first, keeping his body close to yours as he uses his hips to pull out and push back into your core, over and over. The rhythm is steady and insistent, and your body responds in kind, your hips moving to meet him and your legs widening and hitching up to take him even more deeply. 

He’s starting to increase the pace slightly and you whine, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders. “You feel so good, Lyd,” he pants, “so fucking good. So warm and tight.”

“You like how tight I am for you? You want to see how much I can take?” you coo in his ear as you trail your hands down his back before spreading your palms over his ass, triggering a growl from deep within his chest as he fucks you faster. 

“Want you to take it all, baby, know you can…” A grimace flashes across his face, though he doesn’t stop, and you wonder if something’s wrong. You bring your hands back up to his shoulders and run a finger along the bristling hair on his jawline.

“Are you okay? Do we need to stop?”

“Sorry, just a tight muscle somewhere -“ He looks a little sheepish, as if his body is letting him down.

“Hey,” you murmur, “get on your back. I want to fuck you on top.” His eyes widen with delight and you shift your bodies together, keeping him inside you as he eases carefully back onto the bed and you straddle him.

For a moment you stay just like that, quiet and still. He looks you up and down, smiling at the sight of you and brushing the tips of his fingers gently over the weight of your breasts and the curve of your hips and thighs. You run your hands over Ben’s chest, gazing at his body as if it were a treasure. When you start to trace your fingers over his tummy, he seems to shrink back a little, embarrassed by his physique. 

In response, you shift forward, pulling him out of you slightly so that you can lean in and run your tongue and mouth over the soft flesh of his stomach. He’s looking down his chest at you, and you look up from under your eyelashes. 

“This is a really sexy tummy, you know. Probably the sexiest I’ve ever seen in my life.”

A smile flickers across his face. “You don’t have to say that -“ 

You silence him by sinking back down onto his full length, pulling a cry from his lungs. With a roll of your hips you start to ride his cock, keeping your fingers on his tummy. As you pick up the pace he can’t keep his eyes off your breasts, and he greedily lifts himself up to suck on your nipples. The sensation of his tongue tracing the outline of each nipple is enough to throw you off, and you have to really concentrate on the rhythm you’ve set with your hips and ass.

Months of pent-up frustration and desire find their release as you fuck Ben harder and deeper, his hands digging into your hips and thighs. “Fucking hell, Lyd, you’re amazing,” he rasps, eyes flitting between the fluid movement of your hips and the bounce of your tits. “Feels amazing. Feel good for you, too?”

You nod, not wanting to break the rhythm. With a smirk, he slips a thumb to your clit and starts to rub circles over and around it. You cry out his name in response. 

“Fuck yes, Ben, keep doing that, keep doing…that’s it, fuck!”

“Are you going to come again for me, Lyd?”, he murmurs gently, the quiet of his voice in stark contrast to the obscene, wet noises coming from your cunt and the dirty talk he’s sent tripping from your tongue.

For the third time, the tightly-wound coil snaps deep inside you. You can feel your cunt pulsing around Ben’s cock as you ride out your peak, feeling him tightening between your legs. He’s close. He sits up, pausing to kiss you and to suck on your neck for a few moments while he caresses your tits, before easing you over and onto your back again so he can finish with you underneath him.

“You’re so close,” you whisper to him as he starts to fuck you again, hard and steady. “Let go, baby. Come for me.” 

He picks up the pace, the wetness of your pussy letting him take you as hard as he wants. He’s still holding back. 

“Let go. Come in me,” you purr, hitching your hips slightly to let him go even deeper. “I want your come in me.”

That’s enough to tip him over the edge, and Ben’s rhythm stutters and finally breaks. With a gasp and a shudder you feel him come, crying out as he fills you, cock buried deep within you and beads of sweat dripping from his chest onto your tits. 

He stays put for a moment or two, panting into your neck as he tries to pull himself together. You run your fingers through the soft curls of his hair and hold him close. 

“Thank you.”

His words are almost inaudible, barely a whisper, and you aren’t entirely sure if you’ve heard them or imagined them. You respond with a kiss to the top of his head. 

After a couple of moments Ben pulls away and gets out of bed, pulling the comforter around you before crossing from his bedroom to the bathroom across the hall. He returns with a washcloth and a towel, cleaning you up and gently drying you off. He places one more kiss on your belly and smiles, moving back up to join you at the head of the bed.

You lie close together, facing each other in a comfortable silence. He strokes a little pattern on the curve of your hip while you absent-mindedly trace a finger over the constellation of dark freckles across the top of his chest. 

He tilts your chin up to look at you, stroking your cheek as his big dark eyes gaze into yours. You plant a soft kiss on the little bare patch of skin along his jaw before shifting back to look - really look - at Ben’s face, mapping it with your eyes. The slight furrow between his brows. The line of his nose. The specific shape and colour of his lips. The little divot in his bottom lip. 

“Was - was that okay?” He looks at you intently with those big, baby cow eyes, waiting for a response. 

You are surprised by the question and by how quiet and awkward he sounds, given that he’s just made you come deeper and harder than you have in years. Or maybe ever.

Three. Fucking. Times.

“It was…” you search for the right word as you run your fingers over his strong bicep, “amazing. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before, honestly. Was it good for you too?”

He blushes, a wide smile creeping across his face. “Pretty spectacular, Lyd. You on top? I mean…” He mimes fireworks exploding with his hands, and you bury your face in his chest as you laugh. You stay like that for a little while, tucked into his side with a big, stupid smile on your face and your arm wrapped around Ben’s tummy. He holds you close to him, tilting his head to rest on yours.

The gesture brings you back, suddenly, to Halloween. His arm around your waist. Your arm around his shoulders. His head resting against you, yours against his. 

Fuck, you two are idiots.

“We should have done this ages ago,” he murmurs, and you worry for a moment that he might be able to read your mind.

You reach for his hand, twining your fingers together. 

“Was it worth the wait, Ben?”

He squeezes you tightly. “Every fucking minute.”

It’s still comparatively early when you fall asleep (the joys of a 5pm party start time), you as the little spoon, Ben dozing off with an arm around you and his hand gently holding your breast. His body is warm and comforting against your back, and you listen for a couple of minutes to the sound of his breathing slowing, steadying, into sleep. 

You don’t sleep for very long - maybe an hour or two. You blink awake, noticing that the lamp is still on, and that Ben’s broad hand is still in place against your soft skin. You caress the back of his hand with yours, trying not to wake him but wanting to feel him under your fingertips again. 

“Mmmmm. Hi, baby.” He drowsily starts to kiss the back of your neck, and his fingers begin to squeeze lightly at your nipple. It grows hard and pert as he nuzzles into your neck, his mouth tracing a line of kisses along your shoulder. You are still wet from earlier, but can feel the ache building again between your legs. He shifts closer to you, and you feel his cock, hard again, pressing against your ass. 

You keen quietly with pleasure, still sleepy, your body starting to grind against his. He whispers a question into your ear, and in response you drag his hand down your body, lifting your leg ever so slightly so he can feel for himself.

“Christ, darling, this just from me playing with your tit?”

You hum your appreciation, nodding. “Mmmm. And the orgasms.”

He chuckles quietly. “Can I have you?” He shuffles down slightly, his hard length already notching at your thighs. 

“Always,” you purr, and he reaches around to tilt your face to his. He kisses you as he lifts your leg, drapes it over his, and carefully pushes inside you. The stretch is still new, but more familiar now, and you mewl a little as he bottoms out. 

It’s slow at first, intense and intimate as he works up a rhythm while still half-asleep. He moans into your neck as he fucks you gently, praising you over and over. “You feel so good, Lyddie,” he whispers, “taking it so well.” He sucks lightly at the crook of your neck, making you whimper with pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful. Beautiful girl,” he sighs, rolling his hips firmly but slowly as he thrusts up into your pussy. 

“I lo-... I love y-your…body. So soft for me.”

“I love your body too, baby.” You drop a hand between your legs and touch yourself. As he realises what you’re doing, he picks up the pace, fucking you harder from behind until you come with a cry.

His hand drifts to your uppermost hip, holding you in place as he fucks - and talks - you through it. “That’s it, baby. You feel so good when you come like that for me. I lo-” 

You know he’s close, both from the stuttering rhythm and the fact he can’t use his words any more. He mutters and curses as his movements become more staggered. With a moan that seems to come from the depths of his soul, he spills into you with a final thrust, panting into your back as he stays inside you for a moment. 

You turn your mouth to his again, and he kisses you with hunger and gratitude.

You are both utterly wrecked, in every sense, lying flat out on the bed together as you come down from a shared high. 

“So I know you’ve got your flight tomorrow,” he says, fingers idly running up and down your forearm, and you brace yourself for him suggesting you should probably go home. 

“But if you’d like, you can stay the night? I can drive you to your place as early as you need.” 

“If you want me to? I don’t want to impose…”

He shakes his head. “It would be a pleasure. I want you to stay, you know? Would you like something to sleep in? A t-shirt?” You nod in response. He’s holding your hand, rubbing his thumb against your palm. 

He retrieves two T-shirts and a pair of boxers from a tallboy that stands against the opposite wall of the room, holding the shirts up for your approval. 

“REM 1999 tour shirt, or study abroad souvenir?” He really is gorgeous, you think, even when he’s standing naked making silly faces and pretending to model each shirt. Actually, especially when he’s doing that. 

“Ooh, vintage Universidad de Málaga 1996, please.” He crosses back to the bed and hands you the faded red cotton shirt before pulling on his own. 

“That’s a precious relic,” he says with mock seriousness. “It is a privilege to wear that shirt.”

“Understood. I respect the power of the shirt.” You bow your head, crossing your arms across your chest reverentially and he laughs gently. 

He clambers back into bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close under the comforter. You rest your head on his shoulder, hands on his chest, and sneak little glances up at him. He’s already starting to drift to sleep, lids heavy and breathing slowing into a steady rhythm. 

Oh, fuck. He’s so gorgeous. He’s so beautiful.

The last word slips, unbidden, from your lips, and he looks confused for a moment before breaking into a gentle, sleepy smile. “So are you.”

The afterglow is cosy and safe. He holds you close with his strong arms, and your fingers are entwined with his. It is both new and familiar, strange and reassuring; a first time, and like you’ve been doing this forever.

(bookshelf divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more; other dividers by @cafekitsune)

Further A/N: They got there. They have a long way to go (please don't hate me - it can't all be sunshine and orgasms roses). Next chapter sees some more Christmas "cheer", albeit on other sides of the Atlantic.

Thank you so much if you've been with them this far - don't forget, of course, that Lydia is just visiting...

[friendshipgun]

😈

💖-specifically, when did you start writing, what kind of things did you write, what inspired you, how has your writing journey looked?

and uh i fuckin forget the emoji but character headcanon(s) for mia winters and/or jesse evilwest (and his twin??)

hope these are fun to answer!

Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

i think maybe you asked this one the last time i reblogged this ask meme but there has also been Fic Progression so i also understand lol. but no, not really. a lot of the time i don't even clock something that might read like that until i get comments about it. i am however mean to Karl and Ethan on purpose and so there is probably splash damage from that lol.

(and i'm gonna have to readmore the rest bc it gets long, apologies) What made you start writing?

i don't know when exactly i started, just that i remember putting little books of "stories" together in elementary school. i wrote what i think technically counts as LOTR fanfic and MLP oc fic lmao. but what i mostly wrote was original fiction. a cousin i was close to as a kid was also big into writing and we ended up attending a summer camp for the arts together in middle school, so i was writing mostly poetry there, but prose too. i also started writing fic with another friend in middle/high school (stuff like pokemon crack fic lmao), but i was still mostly writing original fiction. in high school in particular i got BIG into writing poetry (idk if anyone else knows about allpoetry.com but i sure was spending a heck of a lot of time there), was editor of the high school literary magazine, etc etc. basically i was never not writing. i was also posting way more fic in high school, writing primarily angst at that point and largely for Final Fantasy.

then i went to college and stopped writing for a few years barring academic papers. started taking writing seminars the last few semesters i was there which got me writing again. again mostly original fiction. a lot of supernatural stuff, not really poetry anymore though, which is kind of a shame bc of how much i had liked it. started writing fic again too, a lot of Naruto stuff that i never posted anywhere. then my dad of all people got me into Supernatural and i wrote a bunch of fic for that that i also never posted anywhere. then i went to grad school and the "not writing anything except academic papers" thing started up again rip. really didn't pick it up again as a regular practice until after my dad died a few years back. wrote a bunch of stuff about grief that was uhhhhhhhhh pretty clearly me trying to process shit.

and then it was covid and i lost my job and i was watching playthroughs of re7 and re8 almost concurrently going "but what if you put Heisenberg in the swamp WHAT THEN." as for what inspires me, i guess just about everything? like the number of stories i wrote set in Japan after i'd studied abroad there...is a lot. and with fic it's just like "i just think it would be neat if character i like was in a Situation." when i was writing poetry a lot of it was teenage angst bc i was in high school but i'd also write about cities or people or fantasy epics. anyway this is already really long but yeah basically if i think about it for long enough that it becomes "I Just Think They're Neat" territory i'll want to write something about it.

Mia Winters Headcanon:

she doesn't trust easily and has for a long time kept things about herself secret, or lied outright, as a way to protect herself. she'd been doing this long before she met Ethan and then after...it was habit. and it was easy to keep things about her work secret because it did feel like she was protecting him. and it wasn't like it was going to be forever, she was planning on getting out. she was working on it. she hadn't even thought of something like that--a normal life--until she'd met Ethan, and then it had seemed like...like something attainable. there wouldn't be the need for secrets then, when it was just the two of them. (or so she told herself: it's like pulling off her skin, being that exposed, having nothing between herself and someone else. being seen. completely seen.) anyway this got away from me a bit lmao. but basically i like to try to reconcile her going back to lying post-re7 as a defensive move to protect herself, especially when the BSAA knows everything about her past. i don't think she was intentionally trying to hurt Ethan or anything, just that after Dulvey she'd feel ever more the need to have those secrets as a buffer, combined with a deep, deep fear that Ethan would hate her if he knew. (this is how i am personally smoothing down Mr. Capcom's writing decisions.) Jesse Evil West Headcanon: he has had a crush on Edgar since he was a kid and is outright tormented by it. i imagine him taking issue with how his dad treated Edgar. or feeling jealous of Edgar's loyalty to his dad. just let's give Jesse more issues regarding his dad lmao. the little joke he makes in the game about Edgar kissing him is a ""joke"" but like he is internally yelling UNLESS?????? as vehemently as he can.

thinking also about post-game events, how Bloom was joking around with Edgar and Jesse can absolutely get jealous about that too, like just he's a mess and i don't know if it's better (worse) if he has actually confessed to Edgar and was shot down or has just never confessed to Edgar for fear of getting shot down.

and if you want to bring in Jesse's twin (who is also named Jessie i guess we can just give him an extra vowel) i think it's very funny if both of them alternately fight over and tag team Edgar. co-op, as it were.

[korrasera]

appropriately-inappropriate reblogged your post and added:

You’re not a threat to me? Then tell that to the...

And here we see the problem with TERFs revealed. They honestly think that trans women are a threat to their existence. Like, all of us. On an existential level. These people honestly believe that the only survivable future is one in which trans women no longer exist because we’ve all been rounded up and killed. You can see it all over their rhetoric, as they basically talk about us like we’re demons. Or men, which is actually worse now that I think about it.

Like I said, this is classic authoritarianism, built on fear. I’ll lay out the basics for anyone who hasn’t heard me talk about authoritarianism.

First, here’s how healthy development is supposed to work:

Human beings become emotionally mature when we learn to control our sense of fear. Everyone experiences fear as it is one of our primal emotions. Learning to manage your fear what parents are for.

By acting as your caregivers, they shelter you while you are a child and cannot manage your own fear. Over time, you learn to control it and keep it from controlling your thoughts and actions.

And so, you become mature when you can feel secure not because someone is watching over you, but because you know you can handle your own shit.

The problem comes when you never actually become emotionally mature.

For some people, they never grow up because they’re born into a live of privilege and don’t have caregivers that care enough to raise them securely. For a lot of other people, it happens because of trauma, whether we’re talking childhood abuse, attachment injury, or emotionally immature caregivers that can’t teach you anything.

It’s also worth noting that emotionally mature adults can see their maturity eroded by traumatic events. Surviving a disaster, warfare, assault and abuse, these can all overwhelm your ability to process, depriving you of the sense of security you built for yourself.

This is a fundamental cognitive bias in human beings. When we do not achieve emotional maturity, we fall victim to authoritarianism. That lack of a sense of security comes from not being able to control your fears. It prevents you from seeing the truth of what is actually a threat to you. You start doing things like saying that refugees are a threat because of terrorists, despite the two groups having nothing to do with each other. Or you single out black people as being less than human but imagine them as physically powerful, thus necessitating your enslavement of them.

Seriously, authoritarianism is the worst and it sits at the heart of pretty much all of our worst forms of hatred and bigotry.

You can recognize authoritarians by a few behaviors that they always fall into. Compare to the current US political climate for real world examples:

Form an in-group from people who look like you. You must then police that in-group to make sure they act like you, because if they don’t then they’re the enemy and they must be eradicated. See the entire religious right in the US, as well as the entirety of the GOP.

Form an out-group that’s everyone else. Many of these people are going to be the focal point for your fear and you’re going to seek to eradicate them. Conservatives in the US have gone after LGBTQ+ people, black people, Asian people, Muslims, refugees, you name it. And let’s not forget that the nazis quite literally tried to murder every Jewish person they could get their hands on and a lot of other marginalized people along with them.

Take your biggest, meanest, most aggressive asshole and put them in charge. They are now your dad and they’re going to protect you from what you’re afraid of. Ever wonder why TERFs seem to sing the praises of their most aggressive and violent members, like a certain fake goth you all might be familiar with?

There’s some good that you can take out of all of this. Children in particular are resilient, and many of us that experience childhood trauma or attachment injury manage to stumble our way to emotional maturity. Sometimes we get there with a host of unhealthy coping mechanisms, sometimes we’re depressed and suffer from anxiety, but many of us get there in the end.

If you’ve ever wondered why your depressed and traumatized friend might struggle with her own phobias but will leap to the defense of marginalized people seemingly without regard for her own safety? That’s one of us who has managed to grow up.

When you realize most fears are unfounded and that it takes work to recognize your true enemy, like TERFs and other human beings who are so afraid that they’d slaughter the rest of us and often try to do so, you know that you can control your fear and recognize when it’s irrational and when it’s warranted.

TERFs, like all authoritarians, lack that trait. It’s why they behave in cowardly and deceptive ways. That’s why they need to assault one of the most marginalized groups that exists today, why they send death threats and encourage young trans women to kill themselves.

It is possible for someone to come back from being that kind of a hateful bigot, but it’s not easy. They have to grow up. Imagine admitting that as an adult. And then imagine doing something about it.

[currantlee]

My Top 5 favorite Pokémon Boss Battle Themes

So, I fell into a pit of my Pokémon nostalgia. Don't look at me, I loved these games as a kid, and I don't enjoy what they have become. That being said, I really hope the Sinnoh remakes - both BDSP and Legends - are good, since Sinnoh was my first region and I'd hate to see it butchered. Plus, they look promising. But I'm not getting my hopes up yet, I'll wait for reviews.

Anyways, one of the things I enjoyed so much about these games is the music. I could probably hum you some of the Sinnoh tunes, or even sing the lyrics I imagined for them (it's obvious that Sinnoh is still my favorite region, isn't it?). Or I could list some of my favorite music tracks from all across the series. So... I did just that to get my hype energy somewhere 😂

So yeah, I hope you enjoy this little list 😊 I tried to explain the stories and memories associated with those musical themes as well as I can for those of you who aren't into Pokémon. That being said - spoilers for Pokémon OmegaRuby and AlphaSapphire, Pokémon HeartGold and SoulSilver and especially the Sinnoh games ahead.

Oh, and if you do know Pokémon - please leave a comment or reblog and tell me what your favorite boss battle theme is, I'd love to know!

Since Pokémon doesn't have an explicified boss definition, here is what I define as boss battles in Pokémon:

Rival Battles

Gym Battles

Elite Four Battles

Champion Battles

Commander Battles

Admin Battles

Legendary / Unique Pokémon Battles

Frontier Brain or similar Battles

With that being said, let's go!

#5: Pokémon UltraSun/UltraMoon: VS Ultra Necrozma

I will admit, I haven't played the game. I heard this battle is actually pretty difficult, but I can't speak for myself on this. Pokémon games have stopped to be enjoyable to me with Sun and Moon, which had an amazing storyline and some great gameplay concepts, but just... Not enjoyable to me. And USUM seemed like cashgrab to me. I will say though, this musical theme has something and might as well be the best legendary battle theme of modern Pokémon for me.

#4: Pokémon OmegaRuby/AlphaSapphire: VS Brendan/May

In Gen3, Game Freak tried out a new approach with the rival character. See, you always have a rival in Pokémon, and up until this point, all rivals were pretty much jerks. What this new approach was? Well... Let's just say they made the rival character the crush of the player character.

Depending on whether you play as Brendan (whom everyone thought to have white hair before ORAS, except Hidenori Kusaka and Satoshi Yamamoto, who make the Pokémon Adventures manga) or as May, the other will be the rival, and let me tell you, the game pushes this ship really hard in my opinion. It's no wonder why the manga chose to write Ruby and Sapphire, Brendan's and May's counterparts respectively, as a romantic couple, who even confess their love for each other - twice.

Their battle theme conveys this perfectly: this isn't two people who hate each other battling, these are two friends, who might like each other more than you like a casual friend, battling to spend time together. Despite that, both of them are determined to not lose.

One of my favorite moments in the entire game is the ending of it. After the credits (during which Brendan and May are riding their bikes home together) have rolled, you arrive at the pond where you and your rival first met, and they will challenge you to a battle once more. It's when you hear this theme, the one you've listened to every time you battled Brendan or May during the game, and it's just an amazing moment in my opinion, one that is accompanied by this soundtrack, following absolute silence.

And yes, I prefer the remake version of this track.

#3: Pokémon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum: VS Cyrus

Since Kingdom Hearts is currently my main fandom and therefore most people following me probably know more about that series than about Pokémon, let me explain who Cyrus is: Cyrus is the Xehanort of Pokémon. And that up there is his battle theme. And safe for the one time they butchered it by turning it into a disco song for USUM, it's absolutely perfect.

I especially like the beginning. It conveys intensity and the dangerous situation you're in. I mean, Cyrus literally wants to destroy the universe to replace it with a new one he will rule as a god. He also regards all emotions as weakness and will openly admit that his grunts are useless and merely tools to him. Honestly, he is the most terrifying antagonist of the entire series to me, mainly because his plan is that of a madman, but he is actually serious about it (and unlike Xehanort doesn't let go of it even after his defeat).

At the same time, the musical theme sounds hopeful - like all will be good. And I mean, all is eventually good. You have your Pokémon with you, and Cynthis (who also has a badass battle theme by the way) helps you out too. Here is a great thing about the Sinnoh plot: Cynthia has been built up as a character you can trust, and her philosophy is the direct contrast to Cyrus'. So when she helps you battle Cyrus and Team Galactic - you know she won't let anything happen to you. Despite how terrifying Cyrus is as a villain, you know you're safe, because you have not only your Pokémon, but her on your side. Oh, and she is the final boss of the game. So in the end, you and your Pokémon overcome not only the villain, but also the person who held your hand the entire time.

Sorry this turned into me gushing about the plot of the Sinnoh games, but I can't help it 😅 On with the show!

#2: Pokémon HeartGold/SoulSilver: VS Champion/Red

If Cyrus is the Xehanort of Pokémon, then Red is it's Yozora. And while his musical theme is technically not his alone, I definitely associate it with him more than I associate it with Lance.

One of the best things about Red in my opinion is how he is foreshadowed during the entire game. Like, in the first city you visit, an elderly man will tell you about a boy named Red who three years ago saved the neighbouring region Kanto from the evil Team Rocket. Then, you hear nothing about him for a very long time - until Blue Oak mentions him again on Cinnebar Island and you meet his worried mother at Pallet Town.

While Red is technically an optional secret boss, the game makes you want to beat him through the little details it reveals about him. That he is a legend, that he is the true Champion of the Indigo League... To me, his mother worrying about him was always what got me the most.

I have to say, I also got a soft spot for the 8-Bit-version of the theme, it's just not what I grew up with. I admittedly never played GSC. I also like the Gen7 take on the theme, which mixes the original melody with the Alolan vibes.

#1: Pokémon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum: VS Dialga / Palkia

I don't know how, but they managed to make the piano in this theme as epic as a theme for those two Dr Who-deities deserve. It sounds mysterious and it makes you respect what is in front of you, without sounding bombastic like Arceus' theme (which is also freaking amazing, ngl). Not that that is a bad thing, but I feel like the mysterious vibe fits Dialga and Palkia, who are the embodiments of two very abstract concepts. Arceus is simply god, and that's that. But Dialga and Palkia are the embodiments of time and space, two concepts that are far more difficult to grasp than "god".

Dialga also has an amazing battle theme in Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Time/Darkness/Sky, which definitely deserves an honorable mention here (Palkia's theme in said game is okay, but they definitely got the short end of the stick IMO).

I really hope they're not going to butcher this theme (or Cynthia's. Or Cyrus'. Or any of the Gen4 themes really) in the remakes. But the one thing Pokémon didn't mess up completely for me so far is the soundtrack (except that one time they turned Cyrus' theme into a disco song, which really doesn't fit him at all). So I have faith in that at least.

What's your favorite boss battle theme in Pokémon? Leave me a comment if you like, I'd love to hear about it!

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 14

Goodbye, NYC

SUMMARY: The group leaves for Cordonia

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: Mention of character death

A/N: i am soooo sorry that i haven’t updated as regularly, i’ve been pretty drained this past week but hopefully it won’t happen again. & also i just wanted to give my thanks to each and every one of you for all the comments, likes, & reblogs. it means more than you all could know <3

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I've also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt's "The Goldfinch")*

Catch up here!

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I hope I got everyone tagged! If I missed anyone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know!

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Eleanor - 

Today was our last day of school since we were all leaving for Cordonia tomorrow. When Rowan dropped us off, she told us that it was okay to feel sad about leaving. That made me think I was going to tear up when I would have to say goodbye to all my friends, but surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult, considering that I knew I would never see these people again in my life.

When Rowan picked us back up, I decided to ask Gabe how his day had gone. Ever since that dinner with Mama and Liam, he had been distant. And honestly, that upset me.

All of the adults had were occupied lately, helping Mama get to her appointments and trying to make her feel better. Grandma and Rowan had been helping us pack, and Rowan was always busy trying to make sure that Grandma didn't change her mind about us going with Liam. So since everyone else had something to do, I only had Gabe to spend the day with, and now that Gabe was distancing himself from me, I was technically alone.

Rowan opens up the door to our penthouse, telling us to go inside. She said that she would be back in a couple of hours and had to go home and pack (since Grandma decided that the only way she was going to let us go was if Rowan came with us). I closed the door and turned to tell Gabe about my day, but he had disappeared.

I walked into the living room, finding it empty. I heard voices from the dining room, but I didn't feel like talking to Liam's friends at the moment, so I go towards our bedrooms, leaving my backpack next to the couch.

Once I reach Gabe's door, I knock. I hear him cough from the other side, so I try to open the door, but the handle doesn't turn.

"Gaaaaabbbeee!" I call to him. "Please don't lock yourself in your room again!"

"Go away!" he shouts at me. "Leave me alone! And stop being annoying!"

I shake the door handle a few more times, to which Gabe responds, "Stop it! Don't break my door!"

"I won't break it if you open it!" I call back.

"No!"

I feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes. If Gabe wasn't going to talk to me, who was? Everyone else in the house was busy. And all I wanted was to talk about my day at school.

I look around me at the empty hallway and suddenly feel so alone. I feel empty, but at the same time, I feel like there are so many emotions inside of me that I was going to burst.

So... if Gabe wasn't going to talk to me, and I had said goodbye to all of my friends in school today... did that mean that I really had no companions to speak with anymore?

I feel so far away from everyone else. I couldn't go into the dining room with everyone because I didn't belong there (and they probably didn't want a crying baby to ruin the mood), and I couldn't go to Gabe either because he didn't want me near him.

I had never really felt lonely before. Friendly people always surrounded me, and there was still a shoulder for me to cry on. Now there was no one and nothing.

If I felt like this at home in New York... then would I feel worse in Cordonia? Where I didn't know what the houses or apartments looked like, how the other kids acted, how their subways worked?

Suddenly I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted the loneliness to go instead of me. Why did Gabe want me to be alone? Weren't we supposed to be in this together?

I ball my fists and start pounding on Gabe's door, and eventually start crying, too. The tears blur my vision, and I couldn't even see the outline of the door, but as long as my hand hurt a little when it made contact with whatever was in front of me, I took that as a good sign.

I was about to start kicking the door, but a pair of large, soft hands grab my arms and pin them to my sides. The person turns me towards them, and I come face-to-face with Liam. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and the corners of his mouth tilt downwards in concern.

I stop crying for a moment, allowing the remaining tears in my eyes to fall so that I could fully see Liam.

Daddy used to make the same expression that was on Liam's face, and for half a second, I actually see my father instead of Liam. Even though Liam's hair was blond and his eyes are blue, while Daddy's hair was dark brown, and his green eyes were always on the other side of a pair of glasses — their expressions are frighteningly similar. I have to stop myself from referring to Liam as my father.

And that took a lot of energy. I take a shaky breath to stop the words from escaping, and when I see Daddy again after Liam's eyes twitch, I bury my face in Liam's neck and continue crying.

"Oh, Ella, it's alright." He wraps his arms around me, which is so comforting that I start crying even harder. I missed having someone envelop me such safe hugs. Liam rubs a hand along my back. "It's alright. You're alright, I'm here."

I hear the click of a lock and know that Gabriel has opened his door. I can't see him, but I feel Liam's neck crane upward to look at Gabe.

"Sorry, Ella," my brother says. "I didn't realize you were outside."

"You're lying," I mumble into Liam's neck.

Liam sighs but keeps me in his arms until my crying subsides. I hear Gabe retreat into his room again. Liam pats my back, and I remove myself from his embrace to follow my brother into his room, wiping my tears on my sleeve, my bout of angry sadness over.

Gabe is on his bed, playing with his Nintendo Switch. I can't tell what game he's playing, but I hear the animated characters' grunts and catchphrases. Looking around his room, I see that the shelves along the walls of the room are half empty. There were open suitcases in front of his closet, which still had a few clothes that needed to be packed. (Thankfully, Grandma had already helped me pack all of my things, so I didn't have to worry about my own clothes).

I look at Gabe, wondering if he would talk to me now. Understanding that he wasn't going to glance up from his game, I'm about to ask him if I can use his PlayStation before he puts it away, but Liam speaks up.

"I know it must be difficult for both of you—" he stares at Gabe, trying to get his attention, "—having to leave your home and everything you know to start living in a foreign country. It's not going to be the same there as it is for you here." His shoulders are tense, and he pulls his hand behind his back. Liam seems uncomfortable, and it's not a good look for him. "You will also spend a lot of time under public attention, and that may be difficult to adjust to. I want you both to know that if there's anything you need, I'll always be there to help you through it."

"Yeah, you said that already," Gabe mumbles, still playing his game.

Liam's face falls. He opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. Liam turns to look at me, and I smile at him.

He hesitates for another moment before saying, "How was school today, Eleanor?"

"It was nice!" I tell him, suddenly giddy with excitement, remembering all the events of the day. "My teacher told the gym teacher that today was my last day, and so the gym teacher brought out these scooters that we had to sit on, and we played football on the scooters! And then look!" I hold out my finger to him, and he cups my hand in his to bring it closer to his face. "My team was about to win, and I had the ball, but then this girl from the other team, Veronica, who doesn't like me, made her scooter go over my finger and then my nail broke a little bit and started bleeding a little and then I had to go to the nurse, and the nurse gave me a lollipop! I would give it to you, but I ate it already. Sorry."

He looks back at my face, gently running his thumb over my bandaged finger. One corner of Liam's mouth lifts, and he says, "That's alright. It seems like you had an exciting day. Did Veronica get in trouble?"

"Nuh-uh," I exclaim, shaking my head. "She rolled away. And then when I came back from the nurse, everyone was waiting because we had to go back to our class and when we got there the teacher gave us pizza and tiny cupcakes! But then I had to say goodbye to everyone, and it was sad."

He kneels down on one knee so that our faces are at the same level. "Well, I know it must be upsetting to say goodbye to your friends, but I'm sure you'll make new ones in Cordonia."

I shrug, not really believing him.

"Oh, don't be like that. I know many children in court that would love to be your friend!"

"Like who?" I ask him.

"Well..." he looks away, deep in thought. "How about Bartie?"

"Bartie never wants to do anything!" I tell him.

"And all he does," Gabe speaks up, finally putting his game down, "is walk around saying, 'I mustn't, Your Highness. No, thank you, Your Highness.' He's so boring. And why does he call me that? My name is Gabriel."

I notice that Gabe put his Switch on the bed, so I run for it and start trying to play the game.

Liam stands and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. "Since we are going to announce to the public that you are my son, you will be anointed as my heir and will be the Crown Prince. Whenever someone speaks to you, they will refer to you as 'Your Highness.'"

"Why?" Gabe asks. He leans into my side, trying to see what I'm doing in the game. I make my character, a really buff dude with a red headband, jump around other characters who are chasing him.

"That's how it works," Liam states. "They refer to their king and queen as 'Your Majesty,' whose Latin root word is 'greatness.' They call the prince or princesses 'Your Highness,' because of their high status. Bartie is accustomed to a life of formality, so it's natural for him."

"So...," Gabe turns to Liam, "they call you 'Your Majesty' because you're the king, right?"

"Nuh-uh!" I exclaim. Liam chuckles, and when I turn to look at him and laugh along, the Nintendo Switch vibrates, and a man's voice from the game screams 'GAME OVER!'

Gabe takes the device from my hands and starts another game. Liam points at Gabe's suitcases. "Do you need any help packing the rest of your things?"

"Nah, I'm good. Grandma said she'd give me a hand with everything that's left," Gabe responds. As an afterthought, he adds, "Thank you, though."

Liam gives a small nod. "Well, then... I wanted to let you both know that I am leaving for Cordonia today."

Gabriel looks up. "I thought we were all leaving together?"

"Yes, but since the press doesn't know that you're my son, we have to be discreet and enter the country at different times to make sure news or rumors don't get out before we're ready to give an announcement."

"So when are we going to see you?" I ask.

"A few days after you settle in with the Beaumonts, I'll come to see how you are all doing, and I'll bring you back to the capital for the social season."

"That's the thing you were asking Mama about?" I question.

He gives a small smile. "Yes, your mother has gone through the social season before."

Bastien interrupts our little conversation by knocking on the door. "Your Majesty," he says. "The jet should be ready now. Shall we depart?"

"Yes, thank you for alerting me, Bastien." Liam stands and turns back to us. "I'll see you two very soon."

"Okay!" I exclaim, getting off of the bed to give Liam a hug.

He puts a hand on my head, and when I back away, he tells me, "If there are any mean Veronicas in Cordonia, promise you'll tell me if they bother you?"

I laugh a little and then promise.

When we part, I see Gabe and Liam stare at each other awkwardly, but neither of them makes a move. After a few moments, Gabriel lifts his hand in farewell. Liam smiles and nods, and then leaves.

For a few more minutes, I watch Gabe play, waiting for him to give me a turn. Before he gets a chance to start the game again and give it to me, we hear his phone vibrating from the inside of his backpack. When he crosses the room to take it out, before answering it, he tells me, "It's Uncle Boris!"

Uncle Boris was Daddy's college friend, and also our Godfather. We hadn't seen him in a while. He was traveling around Europe for business and to spend time with his wife and kids. We were actually supposed to visit him a couple weeks ago, but because of the bombing, we couldn't.

Gabe answers the phone and puts it on speakerphone. We both huddle in front of it and a nostalgic joy vibrates in my heart when I hear Uncle Boris' thick Russian accent call out, "Hello, zayats!"

We giggle at the nickname that hasn't worn off since Gabe lost his front teeth (when they came back in, Uncle Boris had commented that he looked like a little rabbit), and then in union we say, "Hi, Uncle Boris!"

"Rowan tells me today was last day of school for you two?" he asks us in his broken English.

"Yeah," Gabe answers. "We're leaving for Cordonia."

"Cordonia, eh?" (He pronounces it 'CARdonia'). "That is not an hour's flight from where I am!"

"Really?" I ask. "Are you going to visit us? Can you please visit us?"  

"If your Mama allows, then yes, I visit. But what you children go to Cordonia for?"

"Because apparently Liam is Gabe's dad that Mama never told us about," I ramble, "and since Daddy's not here anymore and Mama doesn't have a lot of her memory, we have to go with him and his friends."

"Liam?" Uncle Boris questions. "Liam, who?"

"Uh." Gabe frowns. "I don't know his last name. But he says he's a king."

"Which is fake!" I blurt out. "I bet he's lying about it."

"Ah!" Uncle Boris exclaims. "King Liam! Yes, yes, your mother tell me and Potter about him." (Uncle Boris has always called Daddy 'Potter' because Daddy's glasses used to remind Uncle Boris of Harry Potter). "What he wants?"

"He's bringing us to Cordonia with him," Gabe states.

"Pfft. Nonsense king. Bringing small child to foreign country to keep stupid monarchy alive. You know why countries have no more monarchy? Take Russia as example—."

He continues rambling, and I genuinely think he doesn't remember he's talking to us. Gabe looks up at me and whispers, "I think he's drunk!" He coughs loudly into his elbow, and the vibration I hear from the back of his throat tells me the cough was genuine. But Uncle Boris doesn't seem to notice and keeps talking.

I cover my mouth and giggle. There's another knock on the door, and we turn to see Rowan, followed by Maxwell.

"What's up, baby blossoms?" Maxwell calls to us.

In a loud whisper, Gabe responds, "Talking to Uncle Boris!"

"It's okay," Rowan says, grabbing the phone and taking it off of speakerphone. "I've got this. There's food for you guys if you want something to eat?"

"C'mon, blossoms!" Maxwell exclaims, leading us towards the dining room. "Are you guys excited to get to Cordonia tomorrow?"

We shrug and nod, trying our best to seem somewhat enthusiastic.

"Aw, don't worry. I'm sure you'll love it when you finally get there. Your mom came to adore it after just spending a short time there." He pauses for a moment, then lowers his voice before continuing, and I don't think Gabe and I are meant to hear what he said when he goes, "That's why it was so much of a surprise when she left."

Gabe and I share a worried glance. In the short time that we had known Maxwell, he was always cheerful. But his last sentence was carried out with a heavy voice. "At least it's good that she's finally going back?" Gabe states, accidentally making it sound like a question.

Maxwell looks down at him, patting Gabe's head. "It sure is, baby blossom. It sure is."

- Drake -

The day after Liam left, the Beaumonts, Drake, Rowan, Riley, and her kids were all in the airport waiting for the pilot to get ready. Liam had told Drake before leaving that he thought it would be best if he went back home with the Beaumonts so he could help Riley and the kids settle in. Drake wanted to tell him that he already decided that, but he believed that it would be best not to agitate Liam, who was already stressed.

When it was time to finally get on the jet, Drake tells Maxwell to grab Riley's crutches before she can reach them. Drake then offers to carry Riley in his arms to help her board the plane.

She blushes and argues that she can do it herself, but then accepts after Drake persists. Her kids follow closely behind, not taking their eyes off of their mother.

Inside, he puts her down and takes the seat right next to her, while the kids take the seats in front of them. While everyone else settles in, Drake notices Riley moving around.

"You good, Brooks?" he asks her.

"Yeah," she says. "My leg's making me a bit uncomfortable, though."

"The doctor said that you had to keep it elevated. Here." Drake gently grabs her injured leg and sets it down on his knee. "That better?"

"Yeah, thanks." She smiles at him.

For the rest of the plane ride, Riley goes in and out of naps, resting her head on Drake's shoulder. The children talk with Rowan and Maxwell, who seem to be getting friendly with one another. Bartie stares out of the window for the most part but does his best to include himself in conversations with Gabriel and Eleanor. Savannah and Bertrand murmur amongst themselves, and occasionally Bertrand stands to make sure that Riley's doing alright.

Drake sits silently, glancing at Riley while she slept, doing his best not to remind himself of the first time he and Maxwell had brought her to Cordonia.

He promised himself that he would do everything that he could to make sure there would be no repeat of the social season or the Engagement Tour.

I'll be damned if I let the court ruin Riley and her kids, he thinks to himself.

Drake watches Maxwell teach Gabriel and Eleanor a game he just created. When he glances out the window, Drake takes a moment to stare at the expanse of water that had separated him from Riley for so long. He checks the time, trying to estimate when they would be able to view Cordonia out the window, hoping to wake Riley to let her see the shore. He hated that she still didn't remember any of them; there were still so many questions they needed to ask her.

He stares down at her sleeping face, and for a moment, his heart aches for everything that she's gone through. There's a sense of guilt that vibrates within him, for everything that he did and didn't do. And there's also... reluctance. He's almost scared to bring her back, to bring happiness back. They had all spent so much time in a deep hole of 'if only' that leaving the hole felt unnatural. Eventually though, that all fades away as Drake drifts into sleep, Riley's peaceful features having allured him.

- Bastien -

Due to unpredictable weather the night before, King Liam's jet was unable to take flight for Cordonia when he had wished it to. The delay lasted for hours, and King Liam's aircraft was finally in the air only an hour before the Beaumont's plane was predicted to take off. Liam told Bastien it would be best not to tell the Beaumont's about his delay, seeing that they still had to give off the illusion that everyone was arriving from a different place, but Bastien saw the reluctance in his king's eyes; the man wanted to go with them, but couldn’t.

As King Liam's jet lands in the capital, Bastien sends a radio message to the rest of the King's Guard to keep away paparazzi and to make sure there was no threat in any surrounding areas. Near the entrance of the airport, there's a limo waiting for the king. Bastien opens the door for Liam, then goes to sit in the front.

He sends out another message to the guards still in the palace, alerting them that the king was returning, and reminding them to report anything pressing. Bastien receives messages stating that there was nothing eventful going on, except small preparations for the social season. Bastien breathes out, glad that his king would not have more to bother him.

When they reach the palace, Bastien jumps out of the car and follows King Liam, who is already through the entrance.

There's noise on the other end of his earpiece, and Bastien is about to ignore it and shut it off before a female guard's voice states, "Alert His Majesty that he has someone waiting to speak to him."

Bastien doesn't say anything back into the radio, since King Liam was walking right beside him. Before Bastien can tell his king the news, the woman's voice sounds again.

"Bas, can you hear me? Prince Leo wants His Majesty to know that he's waiting to talk to him. He says it's important."

[rhomaa2]

I posted 34,781 times in 2021

367 posts created (1%)

34414 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 93.8 posts.

I added 1,300 tags in 2021

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#also half the time people say they used translate for the spanish and if you need to use translate to write it and readers need translate to

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

AU where Buck 1.0 slept with Shannon when he first got to LA and when she comes to confront Eddie in the firehouse Buck spots her first and it's all revealed that they slept together when Eddie comes up to them and asks how Buck knows his wife.

Cue Eddie being mad that even if they were technically separated Shannon has been cheating on him. And Buck trying to make things less awkward but making things extremely worse by saying that he "can't believe he slept with his best friends mum" and Shannon getting pissy because Eddie won't even let her see her own son, but he'll let him meet his coworker.

And everyone in the firehouse is looking like 👀👀 cause the drama going on there would just be entertaining

36 notes • Posted 2021-10-25 08:39:12 GMT

#4

Not to be a Buddie clown on main but my face is painted and i am ready 🤡

So like that prolonged eye contact and Eddie reaching out for Buck as he's lying there bleeding out was pretty gay and totally leading up to Buddie canon. Apparently even casual fans thought there was something inherently romantic about how they framed the scene (which they are not wrong, it practically reads fanfiction)

But that got me to thinking about the Carla scene and her telling Eddie to follow his heart and not Christopher's, which yes! Boy needs to find the person he wants and not just someone who he thinks is "easy" - gotta love his description of that relationship. So thank you Carla for hopefully helping in the leadup to the EddieAna breakup!

We already knew that the dinner wasn't gonna be all sunshines and rainbows though because Cocoa Brown kind of hinted at the fact multiple times on insta, saying that things are not what they seem (which hopefully this means that the big Diaz family dinner in the next episode actually is a dream sequence, that would make the picture not what it seems) and that Carla would have something to say and she did!

But then Cocoa went off on the whole attacking Buddie shippers when people rightfully pointed out that GW shouldn't be playing a Latina character as a non-Latina. Except i'm wondering if that whole thing was actually a misdirect. Like Cocoa shared a pretty big clue that the EddieAna nonsense wasn't going to last, which lead all us clowns to the Buddie endgame route even more aggressively, so what if she actually got in trouble for sharing that info.

Like maybe they wanted the Buddie endgame (and you can't change my mind about them being slowburn endgame) to be more of a secret and to make us, and even the casual viewers to think that the EddieAna relationship was here to stay, the pictures without the Cocoa comments do kind of lead you to that assumption, but she did sort of spoil that theory if you take what she said at face value. It was after those original comments that she started to get more shady with the Buddie stans attacks and also the cryptic emojis when asked about Taylor Kelly.... almost as if she was told to be vaguer if she was going to post, and to mislead the conversation a bit. Because let’s face it, her credibility as a source for info was kind of ruined after she went on the attack. I at least saw multiple people no longer deciding to trust anything she says in regards to Buddie or any other ships.

tldr: Cocoa was silenced for letting slip that the EddieAna nonsense wasn’t gonna last and Buddie endgame is happening 🤡

40 notes • Posted 2021-05-18 13:38:40 GMT

#3

Guys we got so many crumbs this episode it was practically an entire cookie... tonight we don't kill tim

40 notes • Posted 2021-09-28 01:06:36 GMT

#2

Oh it's happening

Buck is gonna be Chris' legal guardian if Eddie was to die 😭😭

There truly is nobody he trusts more with his son than Buck

He called him Evan 😭😭😭

41 notes • Posted 2021-05-25 00:59:53 GMT

#1

Oh my god i can't believe all the insane Jan theories were actually correct! I thought we were all just grasping at straws but we weren't! And that is some damn good storytelling right there

Also the setup for season 2? Yes please!

50 notes • Posted 2021-10-19 11:09:19 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[joonsytip]

The Selfish Dilemma || Jeonghan [Teaser]

Pairings: Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Co-workers to Lovers au, IT Co-ordinator!Jeonghan au, Team Lead!Reader au, Unrequited au (at first), Office au

Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

Warnings: pinning, unrequited at first, lots of office jargons (coz I'm myself an IT employee lol), redemption, scrooge Jeonghan turning puppy Jeonghan later, suggestive, eventual smut breeding kink, overstimulation, cunnilingus (more to be added)

Dropping early next month. It will be a two part series!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

A/N: To be added to the taglist please send an ask or comment under this announcement post.

MINORS DNI!

A/N2: Get ready to get some major second lead syndrome, guesses about who's gonna he be are welcomed!

Please heart, comment and reblog if it piques your interest, would really help to keep me going <3

Main story out now, checkout here!

[SVT Main Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fics Masterlist]

Teaser under the cut!

"How do you always manage to look so gorgeous?", you ask him giddily knowing very well that you won't be getting a response from him.

The security at the check smiles when you direct your requesting gaze at her. She let's you pass by and you're doing large strides in your heels.

"Here..", you are handing him the beverage cup, "Have a great day, Han!", you wish him and he doesn't even bat an eyelash as he saunters over to avail the elevator.

You stand there watching him as your lips curl up because your gazes meet for the first time before the elevator door closes.

When you had switched to the current company you're working for two years ago as a Senior Developer you had never thought in your wildest dreams that you'd be turning into a lovesick puppy for the technical analyst of the team you had just gotten assigned to.

Everyone seemed nice when they greeted you with enthusiasm except one. Yoon Jeonghan was stoic throughout and for you, that heart within your chest thumped vigorously, eyes glued to him and the surroundings seemed to freeze.

Love at first sight was just a funny concept until Jeonghan made you experience it in practical.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[todisturbtheuniverse]

7, 8, 9, 10 and 38 please! I'm loving your answers!!!

Aww, thanks, anon!

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

His name was supposed to be Sten. He'd never have met her then.

This is from Only Pieces, which looked at my headcanon of Iron Bull’s backstory in tandem with the events of Inquisition through Act 1-ish. It’s actually the first couple of lines I wrote for this fic, when it was still a bunch of scribbled notes in a notebook that I’ve probably misplaced by now. These two sentences formed in my head, and I wanted to create a fic around them: what was Bull’s life like in the Qun? How does he feel about it now? Would he trade the people he’s come to care about in his new life--the Chargers, the Inquisitor--for a chance to return to the Qun?

I like these lines so much, first, from an aesthetic standpoint. The cadence sounds nice to me, which isn’t very descriptive, but I like the way the length of the sentences nearly match one another, syllable-wise, and rhyme at the end, but not overtly. This is also a turning point for Bull: the Chargers have been chosen over the alliance with the Qunari, he is now Tal-Vashoth (technically), and he must be thinking, as a very clever person does, of the pros and cons here: the loss of his role in the Qun, the things he has gained because of it, and his own personal characteristics, which he thinks have led him away from his point of origin. I like that this sort of encompasses all of that in a succinct way.

This all got kind of long, so I’m putting the rest of the answers under a read-more.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Man, this is hard. I really like most of the dialogue I write; I think it’s among my top strengths as a writer. And, again, there are some 600,000 words of fic to hunt through, lol. But I do like this bit:

"I'm not drinking that."

"You'd better," Hawke said, in that grim way that gave Isabela the most delightful shivers—not like fever shivers, not at all. "Your brain's going to cook, otherwise."

"It's cooked before."

Despite this vaguely disturbing image, Hawke's mouth tugged into a smirk. "Oh, is that why you can't walk in a straight line?"

"I can't walk in a straight line because you don't look at my ass enough," Isabela replied, rolling her eyes. "You think I do all that business with my hips for fun?"

"If you drink this, I promise I'll look at your ass whenever someone isn't trying to stab me," Hawke said, with the air of great solemnity.

This is from Ornamented, just a fluffy little one-shot where Isabela is sick and Hawke is attempting to help her feel better. I just love the humor that permeates all of their banter with each other, even in dire circumstances, and I think I captured it pretty well here.

9. Answered here.

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

Anything I’ve written for f!Hawke/Isabela, but probably A Slash of Blue/A Slash of Red in particular. A Slash of Blue was one tiny drabble in 2013, and then I just started writing a new one...every day...until there were 50 of them. Hawke, and her dynamic with Isabela, came so easily to me; even after all this time, this holds true. Writing the pair of them feels like slipping into your coziest, comfiest, most-broken-in pair of slippers, or something. I just know them.

I will say that generally, if a fic proves too difficult for me to write, it doesn’t get posted. Writing fanfiction is a hobby; it stops being a hobby if I’m pulling teeth to get it on the page. There have been situations where I’ve had to grit my teeth through it, anyway (if I was participating in a big bang or other challenge/exchange and didn’t want to back out), but those are the exception.

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Since joining AO3 in late 2012, I’ve received something like 1300 comments, apparently? Which is bananas? I wrote primarily on FF.net before that, and I certainly received comments there that I treasured, too, but I’ve been a lot more prolific since moving to AO3. Nearly 600,000 words of fic...yeah.

I’m not so great about always replying to comments, because I feel weird saying “thank you SO MUCH, seriously, SO MUCH” for the third time or something, but I read all of them. Sometimes repeatedly. I go back and read comments on fics that I particularly liked when I’m feeling down or just bad about writing, in general. I go back and read replies to/tags on reblogs for fics that were posted on Tumblr. I eat that shit up, y’all. I love all of them.

It did make my day on Monday when, about an hour after posting A Shadow, Passing Through, Aydanne on AO3 commented with “Oh, an update of my favorite DA2 series! You've just made my night so much better.” My heart swelled. This game is over six years old, and wasn’t super popular to begin with, so I’d understand if no one wanted to read fic about it anymore; to get that comment and know that someone’s still interested and loving it is just great. Yeah.