#watched this a few hrs ago n needed to draw her...

[vhvrs]

good to see you again.

alts & process 🤲🫶

[alias-b]

The Shape.

Summary: It's Halloween, everyone's entitled to one good scare. Being blind, Marnie McClane considers herself scared of very little. Few things worse than the polite pity she gets from the neighborhood. A misunderstanding leads to a conversation she’ll never forget while she recalls an old friend.

A/N: I’m not back, I might return Monday but idk I guess when I’m down, I write things for slashers that interest very few in my circle. Posting anyways :( I made this in 2 hrs lol

Hope this is enjoyed either way, just trying to get my drive back. Thanks all!! ((TW: Shockingly none!!! Light threats of danger maybe?? No smut sorry)) Let me know what you think and I promise to reply when I return to tumblr for good. xoxo

Halloween, 1963

   “Trick-or-treat!”

   Always followed with shy giggles and little, outstretched hands.

  “Take as many as you like.” A bowl was pushed forward with a colorful selection. Marnie McClane tilted her head to hear the rustling. Parents chided so ‘thank yous’ followed.

   “You’re all very welcome.”

  “Richie, don’t take that many!” A voice sparked. 

  “Ah, mom, she said to take a bunch. She can’t see me!”

  “Richie!”

  “It’s alright, we bought too much this year.” Marnie listened to footsteps across cobblestone.

  “Richie, don’t run too far, young man!”

  “I won’t!” 

  “Sorry about him. Just at that age. You know?” Mrs. Castle approached the porch Marnie had seated herself on.

  “Kids.” A light shrug followed.

  “Who did your decorating?”

  “Dad and I before they left for my Aunt’s.” Eerie blue eyes shifted a few directions. No focused on any impossible blur in the black.

  “And...you’re alright here by yourself?”

  Marnie tried not to sour. The nosy neighbors meant well.

  “Yes. Get around fine same as always.” She plucked up a cane next to her and tapped the ground.

  “Oh, well, that’s good. Pretty costume.”

  “Mom said Red Riding Hood was in this year so I let her dress me. Honestly, I think she just wanted me to stand out in the bright red cape if I decided to wander.” Marnie paused to greet another small round of kids. Smiling to offer the packed bowl.

  “My, ah, nephew is visiting. He’s smart. So handsome. Studying to be a lawyer. You’ll like him. I’ll send him by. Just some good company.”

  Marnie twitched a smile. Story of her life. Everyone trying to set her up with nice, young men. Pity dates for the blind girl.

  “Great.” She replied flatter. “So nice.”

  “You two will hit it off, I just know it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an impatient boy gesturing- I’m coming, Richie! ...Enjoy your Halloween dear.”

  “You too, Mrs. Castle.” Marnie heard the wind rustling.

  Chatter and footsteps. Distantly, birds flapped overhead. It was easier to greet trick-or-treaters from the porch steps. Cold didn’t bug her during long autumn days. Always nice to feel wind on her face.

  Not like she could watch much on television. 

  The night lingered and candy ran low.

   Marnie picked up her thin cane and tapped around. Heard some animal rustle violently in the bushes. Probably a raccoon, they loved to eat the pumpkins. She moved back up the steps so she could put the bowl inside and shut the porch light off after feeling for the switch. When her parents weren’t home, she kept the house pitch black.

  She didn’t need the lights.

  Shifting back to the porch stairs, Marnie crouched down and reached about for the pumpkin sitting there. Lifting it poised to blow out the candle. The flicker of warmth touched her expression

  A ragged breath cut into the space. Near the open gate. Made her perk. Dark hair fell over her shoulders and she exhaled. Leaving the candle on to bathe her face.

  “Hello?” Feet shifted over concrete, making a slow scrape. She pressed her lips together. “I suppose you’re here to tell me it’s against the rules to snuff the lights in a pumpkin before Halloween ends.”

  No reply.

  “Well, I suppose I can leave them on just this once. Can’t upset the Halloween spirits.”

  Nothingness.

  “Are you Mrs. Castle’s lawyer nephew? Forgive me, she didn’t tell me your name.” Marnie sat there on the porch. Heard the steps get closer. “Silent type.”

  The Shape stood over her in darkness. Figured the nephew was the man he’d left in the bushes a few moments ago. The street around them hushed as more houses turned off their porch lights. Marnie stood with the pumpkin under one arm. Face glowing.

  “Name’s Margaret. McClane. Marnie for short. How do you do?” She extended one hand out into the wind. Felt the cool breeze kiss it. A broad palm lifted, decided against it, and dropped. 

  All she heard was the tapered breathing. Even like a heartbeat.

  “Shy sort.” She tucked hair away and sat down to put the carved face aside. “Well, you walked all this way. I didn’t hear a car. You can sit if you like.” Bright eyes stared ahead into nothingness. The Shape moved finally. Sat upon the creaking porch steps. “Studying to be a lawyer. I thought you’d talk my ear off. It’s okay, I can talk enough for both of us. Like a guessing game, I like those. Probably my condition. Most of my life is a guessing game.”

  She tilted her head to laugh softer. A too sweet sound. 

  “It’s alright to laugh with me.” She clutched her cane in one hand and placed the other on her knee. “Good sense of humor makes the day a little easier.”

  He might of grunted but she couldn’t quite tell.

  “You’re already thinking I talk too much. I get it a lot.” Marnie swallowed. Sounded a little harder. “We can get one thing straight. I’m blind. I’m not shy. Not helpless. If I need help, I have a perfectly good voice and I use it. I know it annoys people, but they’re too polite. So, if you’re the polite, pitying type, I think it’s best you continue on elsewhere.”

  He didn’t move. She inhaled the air. Metal. Grass. Dirt. Earthy-like.

  “Very well.” Marnie’s lips lifted again. They sat there together. A dark fall night with a glow from the moon and stars twinkling.

  Marnie could imagine them. Although she figured the stars were multi-colored like Christmas lights and the moon was a blob of a shape. Moving as a lava lamp would.

  “I lost it when I was young. My eyesight. I have these memories like maybe I saw what a cat looked like or my mother’s face. But, it’s probably all wrong now.” She leaned back like she was admiring the moon. Basking in its light. Thoughtfully, she recalled something else. “You remind me of a friend I had. He was quiet too. We fit together. He spoke very little and I too much. He didn’t seem to mind. Like you.”

  A head turned finally to study her behind a rubber mask.

  “You know, that old stereotype, that all blind people wanna do is touch faces...it’s all wrong. Everyone thinks I want to, I hate it when they force my hand up without asking.”

  He puffed.

  “Exactly, it’s so rude. I don’t often touch faces. I don’t like to.” She placed her cane’s handle under her chin to hum. “But, this boy I knew...I asked to touch his face. Everyone used to call him angelic-like. Said he had the face of an angel. I wanted to know what an angel’s face felt like.”

  Marnie laughed again like it was silly.

  “Though, I suppose I had nothing to compare it to.” She paused and he felt for a moment that she was looking through him. Burning into the chill of stone and black. Slowly, Marnie scooted closer. Not enough to touch him, but enough to feel body heat vibrate. Her chest shuddered.

  He didn’t move. Hard and rigid like marble.

  “Can I touch your face?” She lifted one hand. “I just want to know if you’re smiling or frowning. Trying to figure out if I should shut my damn mouth.” Extending as steady as she could. A slash cut through the air.

  Marnie gasped out.

  Fingers curled firm around her wrist. Another shaky breath. One they shared.

  “Sorry, if I offended you.” Softening, she stayed there. Heard his lungs vibrate. 

  A rustle followed. Knuckles twitched as he closed the distance. Let her draw lines up his jaw that was smooth and angled carefully. Face sculpture just so. Maybe by angels.

  When he couldn’t handle more. He pushed up from Marnie. Pulled his mask down. Felt the warmth of her touch trapped under it.

  “Leaving?” She jumped up, dropping her cane aside. A hand went out and missed it. The footsteps stopped at her gate. Returned before her cane was pushed aimlessly at her palms. She paused. “Thank you.”

  A glint of a blade met the moonlight. He pointed it at her heart while she stood oblivious. One plunge, it would have eased into her like butter. A stray, dark lock shifted over her eye. 

  “Maybe you’ll tell me your name next time we meet. I hope.” Marnie hushed. Unaware. Unafraid. One finger awkwardly shifted the hair from her face, tracing the line of her cheekbone in the process. She leaned into it and remembered something else. “Michael.”

  He froze. Blade still poised. Tremoring, he pulled back from her face.

  “That was my friend’s name.” She sounded out the syllables mournfully. “He changed. Went away. That’s what they told me. I always wished he grew comfortable enough to speak his thoughts. That’s why I’m not shy. No use hiding behind masks. Except on Halloween, I suppose. I’ve never touched an angel before, but maybe you’re close. It can be another guessing game.”

  Marnie smiled kindly down the blade, chest sinking.

  “If not, that’s fine too.” She said, catching his hand when it came down. Both their palms were chilled. He thought to slash forward. To crush her. Whatever was left of the boy with a face of an angel turned him back to marble. Delicately, Marnie placed one careful kiss upon his knuckles. Burned it there for the rest of his life.

  There was a pause while he slipped away.

  Before she heard the steps retreating.

  “Will I see you again?” She chuckled at herself. Touching her lips. “Sorry, the phrase always makes me laugh.” Marnie went up her porch, cane clicking as she felt for the doorknob. Michael Myers stopped at the gate. Saw her shifting in shadows to open the door. “Will you come back?

  Lips opened to sound out a single word against the cool, night air. Neither of them heard what is was. Just the breath that cast with it. Marnie’s lips pressed simply. 

  She bid The Shape a lovely goodnight and went inside. Left him there. Taking what lingered of the past with her. Leaving him the burn of a kiss he would never forget.

[dumbchickwrites]

office affairs -- part 4

Pairings: CEO!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sam is the CEO of the Red Wing PR agency where Reader has been working for the past two years. Problem is, they both think one hates the other. However, when their friends set them up on a blind date, they’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: language, Reader is still thirsty, fluff, Mimi wants to gossip.

A/N: This series is part of @marvelmaree​‘s birthday challenge. You can find the masterlist on my blog and hers! Enjoy!

Brunch with your friends and your sister is always a good time. You can’t complain. You have drinks, food and some of the people you love the most. And on this particular Sunday, you still feel the euphoria of your date with Sam.

All weekend you tried to let it go already, telling yourself that you were acting like a middle school girl. But at the same time, who cares, right? Once again, you reminded yourself to let yourself be for a moment, without your self-consciousness stopping you from simply feeling.

“Is she daydreaming again?”

“I bet she’s thinking about Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“No one, baby. Eat your food.”

Someone snaps their fingers in front of your face. You blink a couple of times before frowning at the owner of said hand. Maria doesn’t flinch under your glare.

“Where did you go?” Noelle asked.

You take a sip of your mimosa before you answer.

“Back at L’Orage.”

“Annnnd…?” Natasha pushes.

“We—” you begin, but your gaze meets Michelle’s. 

She’s looking at you like she also wants all the tea. Your eyes lower to her empty plate, hers follow your gaze. You know what she’s thinking, and she knows what you’re thinking. 

“Mimi, you’re done eating right? Why don’t you go watch some TV inside?” you say before her little hand reaches the basket of pastries on the table.

“But—”

“Auntie Henny is right,” Noelle cuts her and you roll your eyes at the nickname. “We don’t want you to get sick, right?” she says, rubbing her belly.

“Okay, Mommy. Can I get more juice from the fridge, please?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”

Just like that, she’s back inside the house.

“I thought the use of that nickname was forbidden in this house,” you say.

“We’re in the backyard,” your sister gives you an innocent smile.

You throw your napkin at her but she easily catches it.

“Anyways. We kissed.”

“Huh,” Natasha crosses her arms over her chest and lays back on her chair. “But?”

“What?”

“There’s a but. There’s always a but with you,” Maria says.

“There’s no but. We kissed, that’s it. It was a very nice kiss. Then he took me home—Back here!” you add quickly when you see how big Maria and Natasha’s eyes got. “He said he’s down for a second date.”

“So how do you feel about him?” Maria asks.

“Do you want me to tell you you were right? Because that’s not gonna happen.”

Maria gives you a look. You sigh.

“It turns out he doesn’t hate me at all. He was actually kind of shocked when I talked to him about that. He thought I didn’t like him,” you take another sip of your drink. “I like him a lot. He’s nice, funny, he listens to me when I talk.”

“Annnnnd…?” this time it comes from Noelle.

“And I kinda want him to bend me over a desk some time.”

The four of you burst out laughing like madwomen.

“More seriously, I guess I should thank you guys. I had a really nice time.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” Natasha rubs your arm. “Personally, I think you guys are a match made in heaven. Literally.”

“Don’t jinx it, Nat!” Maria exclaims.

Natasha makes a zipping motion over her lips with a little smirk.

As Noelle refills your champagne flutes and you move on to another topic – here Noelle and Laetitia, the mother of the new kid in Mimi’s class --, you can’t help but feel grateful for this moment.

You were lucky to find people you can rely on other than your sister after so many years. After everything that happened. Sure your sister is your best friend and vice versa, but sometimes you can’t help but feel guilty about all the stuff you dump on her.

It’s not easy for you to interact with people and maintain healthy relationship. You try your best to find a nice balance between over communicating and totally isolating yourself. You’re still a work in progress though.

That’s why all this dating business was pushed aside for a few years.

Maria and Natasha end up spending the rest of the day at your house. You order takeout, drink some more – responsibly though, all while binge-watching Disney movies and playing board games with Michelle. It’s the nicest day you’ve had in a hot minute.

When the girls leave and it’s finally time for bed, you go to sleep with the ghost of today’s smiles still dancing on your lips.

*

In your opinion, Mondays are overrated. You never understood this whole thing anyway. Sure it’s the beginning of a new week, but it’s still a day like the others.

This particular Monday though, is a bit special. You’re excited to see whether or not Sam had the flowers delivered in your office. So excited that you’re walking around with a huge grin, your face beaming as you step into the elevator.

“Well good morning m’lady,” Scott from HR greets you when you step off the elevator. He’s at the front desk, talking to Rumlow.

“Morning Scott,” you say, still smiling.

“You got a secret admirer, huh?” Scott asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Your office is filled with flowers. And I mean filled. Janet walked by ten minutes ago and she hasn’t stopped sneezing since. Y’know, allergies.”

“Oh, um… I—” you stutter, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m just messing with you, kiddo. Just—If it’s a dude from around here, just make sure you stop by my office some time, ‘kay?”

Okay… You need to end this conversation now. You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Honestly, it’s not that you don’t like Scott, everybody likes Scott. It’s just that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

“Sure thing, Scottie. You have a good day, okay?”

You don’t wait for his answer before you keep walking towards your office, climbing the stairs leading to the first floor with ease.

A woman you don’t recognize is standing in front of your office, staring at the glass wall. The cleaning crew must have left the blinds open again despite your multiple notes.

“Hello,” you greet her before you reach your office. “Can I help you?”

You can’t see the inside yet but Scott was right, the scent is strong. Just how many flowers did Sam send?

Her gaze meets yours as she whips her head towards you, her long burgundy hair following the movement. She’s wearing a green suit, a bold but beautiful contrast with her skin tone.

“Hi!” she smiles. “I’m sorry, is this your office?”

“Yes. You’re new here, right?”

“Yes, yes. My name is Gamora, I’m the new Digital Manager,” she offers her hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself as you shake her hand. “… I take care of—”

“Events, yes. It’s written on your door. Anyways, I was just looking at the flowers in your office. Must be nice. My boyfriend… He’s not really that kind of guy.”

“Um…”

Once again, you don’t know how to talk to people.

“Sorry if I’m being weird.”

“Oh, no, it’s… Don’t worry about it. So where are you from?” you ask.

You figure you should at least try to make small talk with her. She seems nice, she has a very kind face. There’s something about her eyes though… She’s clearly been through a lot.

“I’m from New Asgard, in Norway.”

“Wow, how did you end up here?”

“My boyfriend, Peter. He lives in the US and he asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t say no.”

The name makes you flinch, but you wipe the discomfort away as soon as it appears. Peter is a common name. In this city alone there are hundreds of them. You need to get used to it, it’s been years already.

“Well, on behalf of the entire Red Wing team, I’d like to say welcome,” you give her a genuine smile.

“Thank you so much. That means a lot.” With a sigh, she throws one last glance towards your office before she starts walking away. “I better find Scott, we’re not done with the tour yet. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

“Sure. Have a good day!”

Once she turns around the corner, you take the last few steps that lead you to your office.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

Your office is filled with flowers all right. It’s not just fifty like Sam said. At least a dozen of bouquets of red roses, tulips and peonies are scattered around your office. On your coffee table, the empty spaces on your bookshelf, the floor… everywhere but on your desk. Thank God, the scent isn’t disturbing to you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper again.

You can’t believe your eyes. You set your bag on your desk and draw the blinds over the glass walls to keep the prying eyes out of your business. Walking around a bit, you take the time to inhale and admire every single bouquet.

“Wow, he really wasn’t joking.”

You turn around to find Natasha and Maria standing in your doorway, holding huge mugs.

That’s right the morning coffee. Morning coffee is always in your office on Monday and Wednesday.

“Aw sweetie, don’t cry!” Natasha grabs a tissues from the box on your coffee table and hands it to you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying. Damn, he really had you in the palm of his hand, huh?

“It’s just, no one has ever done something like this for me before, and I feel stupid now because I’m crying for fucking flowers.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid, okay?” Maria chips in. “From what you told us, you’re not used to this kind of treatment, so it’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed right now. Here,” she hands you one of the mugs she’s holding. “Mantis told us you just got in so we figured you didn’t have time to make your cup of tea yet.”

“Thank you.”

You take a sip of the beverage, the hot liquid helping with the lump in your throat.

“Is… Is he here?” you ask.

Their offices are located on the floor above yours along with Sam’s, so you rarely see him during the day.

“Not yet,” Natasha replies. “He’s late. Something about getting Falcon a new cone.”

Oh yeah. He mentioned his dog’s surgery Friday night.

“Good morning, ladies. You talking about me?”

There he is.

Sam is standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips, always handsome. A warm feeling spreads in your chest at the sight of him, and this morning’s grin is back in an instant.

“Samuel,” Maria greets him. “You’re late.”

“Ah shit. The boss wouldn’t like that, would he?”

“Whatever,” Maria rolls her eyes at him.

“Maria, come to the kitchen with me, I want to see if the pastries have been delivered already,” Natasha says, grabbing Maria’s arm.

“But shouldn’t we go with—” her sentence is cut short by Natasha’s pointed look. “Ohhh. Right.”

The girls shut the door behind them as they exit your office, you and Sam left alone.

“Morning,” he says, slowly approaching you. “Do you like the flowers?”

“I do, very much. What happened to the fifty flowers, though?”

Sam shrugs. “They were supposed to represent the number of times I wanted to kiss you. But as the weekend went by, I lost count, so…”

Goddammit.

“Come here,” you mumble.

You grab his hand and pull him closer to you, your free hand finding its place at the back of his neck. The kiss you give him is slow and sweet as you do your best to express your gratitude. You’ve been on one date, yet he has managed to make you feel more special than you’ve ever felt. He really is something. Sam kisses you back, and you can feel him smile as he does.

“Thank you,” you say when you break the kiss. “This is… wow.”

Sam keeps your body close to his, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“You’re welcome. So… about that second date. How do you feel about roller skating?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I kind of like it. I haven’t skated since I was a kid, though.”

Sam nods. “Dinner and roller skating. Let’s say… Wednesday?”

“Wednesday sounds good,” you smile.

“Okay.”

Sam peppers small kisses on your lips and the corner of your mouth before letting you go. You instantly feel colder.

As he walks to the door, you seat at your desk and power up your computer, ready to start the work day.

“Wait, I need one more,” Sam says.

He rounds your desk and spins your chair so you’ll face him, before giving you another kiss. Once again, he peppers small kisses on your lips and cheeks and this time, you can’t help but giggle.

“It’s not even noon yet and I’m having the best day I’ve had in a while,” he whispers.

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me blush,” you joke.

“Now that would be my greatest achievement.”

Sam leaves shortly after that, leaving you to start working with the same dumb smile from earlier on your lips.

***

Tags: @marvelmaree​ @ljstraightnochaser @blackmissfrizzle​ @youdonotghostnickfury​ @minillamakeup-blog​

[fumbling-fanfics]

Imagine having a second child with Viktor Drago...

So I wrote this because @lady-olive-oil was insistant on killing people off, lol. Love you Liv!

I also kind of forgot I wrote this so there was more I wanted to write but I forgot those parts.

**********************************************

You weren't meant to give birth so early. But here you were sitting in a nice relaxing bath, Lily on the bathroom floor drawing more pictures for Viktor while you soaked. If you were honest the contractions had started early in the morning, but they varied between 4hrs and 3 minutes apart. So you had ignored them. But now it was 2 in the afternoon you were pretty sure you were having contractions - the proper ones.

"Lily baby, can you pass mommy here phone please" her little head popped up beside the bath with a big smile. "Are you going to ring daddy? Can I talk to him?" she asked as she disappeared out of the bathroom.

Viktor should have been the one you were going to call but he wasn't.

"I'm going to call Aunt Jenny" you smile kissing her forehead in thanks letting her get back to her drawing. "I'll make Aunt Jenny a picture too" she states, paper rustling about. You pressed the call button next to Jenny's picture (a picture of her and lily at the beach) and waited for her to answer.

"Thank god you called. I'm so tired, I'm literally falling asleep at my desk… What's new?" she sang.

"Code Red" you whispered down the phone.

"Huh?" you can hear the frowns of confusion on Jenny's face. "Oh, Lily, I can go get her from preschool" you could here her moving around more on her end.

"No, Lily's here with me-"

"Hi Aunt Jenny!" Lily called from the floor, voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.

"Oh" Jenny was frowning again.

"The other code red, the new one. The second one" you watched Lily for a reaction but she was absorbed back into her drawing.

"Shit" Jenny shouted.

"Shit, shit, shit! SHIT! Are you sure? It's not those fake ones, those pickle hiccup contraction things" she panicked, you could hear things being knocked around and a draw open and then slam closed.

"You mean Braxton Hicks, and no"

"You're not due for like another 2 months, I'm looking at my calendar. It says on my calender" you could hear her voice go up an octave in panic. You were pretty sure she was also poking the calender too.

Jenny was down as your second birthing partner, after Viktor of course. But since Viktor was away for a fight that was still wasn't due for another 6 weeks, Jenny had happily (and in a drunken state) assured Viktor she'd be your number two should anything happen. But it would be fine because nothing would happen because you still had two months to go.

"I know, I know...Can you maybe come anyway, and maybe it'll be fine by the time you get here"

"Of course, I'm leaving now" she hung up quickly.

"Will Auntie Jenny bring me jellies" Lily asked, pencils poised in her hand.

"Maybe" you laugh, glad she oblivious to what's happening.

By the time Jenny arrived you were out of the bath and sitting in the living room on your yoga ball wondering if you should call Viktor or not.

He'd flown back to the states to fight again, and really concentrate on getting ready as this opponent was almost equal in size to Viktor. You knew if you called him he'd freak out and even fly back (or walk if he had to).

"(Y/n)!!!" Jenny practically screamed, slamming the door closed. You could hear her but not see her. Lily sprinted off to find her Aunt, and reappeared on Jenny's hip.

"Are they for real?" she asked looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I think so, they've just got worse"

"Auntie bought me jellies!" Lily waved the box and then wriggled out of Jenny's arms and ran off. At least she was occupied.

****

“Is it okay to make a call?" you asked in the back of the ambulance. The female paramedic nodded as she carried on writing things down.

Jenny was following in her car with Lily and your hospital bags.

You pressed the call button and held the phone against your ear. There was a series of tial tones, including the international one.

"Hello" it was a quick, short answer.

"Ivan, it's y/n" slight relief washed over you hearing his voice.

"Hello. You want to speak to Viktor?"

"No, no, no, no, no" there were too many no's for Ivan's liking - he felt worried but the fact you weren't crying and he could understand you made him worry a tiny bit less.

Ivan said something in Russian but you couldn't hear, it was muffled, like he had his hand over the mouthpiece. There was the sound of a metal door slamming closed and then silence.

"What's wrong?"

"The baby, its early" there was a long pause from both of you - you both didn't know what to say.

"I'll get Viktor"

"No don't...I mean I know he needs to know, but not right now. You know he'll get on the first plane back, won't think twice about the fight. I can't let him do that." Ivan said nothing but also agreed. But he also wanted to tell his son. Congratulate him, tell everyone in the training room - he had another grandchild.

"I'll let him know it was all my idea not to tell him, just try and act like everything's normal. Please?“

“Are you okay? Are you at the hospital?" the concern in Ivan's voice broke you and you started to cry.

"I'm fine. I'm on my way in an ambulance"

"Are you on your own?" he sound panicked. "Where's Lily?"

"She's following in a car with Jenny" Ivan remembered Jenny from when she came to the beach that day. Ivan was struck by how caring Jenny was with Lily - making sure she ate and drank enough while still having fun.

"She must call me" you nodded even tho Ivan couldn't see you.

"Here" the paramedic handed you a tissue to dry your eyes. "Don't worry, everything's gonna be okay"

***

Olivia May Drago, born 2 months early but otherwise healthy.

Jenny had called Ivan to let him know everything was okay - you were okay, Lily was okay (but probably had new found profession as some sort of Antinal Nurse specialising in premature babies) and that Viktor's new baby girl was okay too. It was only when Jenny came back into the room, an hour later did you realise she had been talking to Ivan for an hour. "He's so funny, Ivan" she said with a smile on her face. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at her as she peered into the neonatal cot to look at Olivia. "Did you just say Ivan's funny?“ you asked, maybe the drugs were making you hear things." Yeah, the jokes he cracks. But otherwise he says he's glad everyone's okay. I said I'll call him tomorrow"

"You should go, it's late" Lily had crashed out on the bed in the room reserved for partners to sleep on.

"No way, do you know how hard it was to get this parental leave. HR officially hate me, so I'm going to use every moment to stare at this beautiful girl" she cooed, picking up Olivia from her cot.

Lily had been born 4 weeks early, so Jenny had fought tooth and nail to have the right to use shared parental leave to help you look after Lily and the baby assuming Olivia would be born early too, despite not actually being a parent to either. She had initially demanded full maternity leave, but had settled for 3 and a half weeks "shared parental" leave. "That's what they get for not having a watertight policy" she'd smugly smiled sipping non alcoholic wine with you when she told you when you met her for lunch just after Viktor left to prepare for the fight.

You were trying not to cry but the harder you did, the quicker your eyes filled up with tears. So when you blinked they came streaming down your face. "Hey, don't you start crying because I'm gonna start crying again" Jenny moved to perch on the edge of your bed still holding Olivia.

"I know you feel bad, but don't. Everything is okay, you're okay, baby's okay. Lily's okay. I'm okay" the last part made you laugh and you brushed the tears away.

"But we need to make sure Viktor's okay, and that means not telling him just yet because we app know what will happen. I'll just keep taking a million photos and videos so he has stuff to watch. Here, hold her" Jenny passed you Olivia and grabbed her phone to take pictures.

"Do I look a mess?" you asked, aware that not only had you given birth 6 hours ago but you had also cried one too many times. "Actually, you look so good. Which makes me slightly hate you" she placed her phone down and then made grabbing hands at Olivia. "My ovaries hurt when I don't hold her" she blushed.

***

You where now sat in the hotel suite that had been reserved for Viktor. Lily was laying on the floor - half on top of the fluffy rug, half off - drawing more pictures for Viktor. You were sure she was on over 100 at this point, but it kept her occupied, you enjoyed listening to her stories behind them and writing them on the back of the picture for Viktor to read later.

She was currently drawing the picture of him winning his current fight - the one that was meant to start in 45 minutes.

You were sat on the overly large sofa breastfeeding Olivia, after having to shout at Buddy Marcella and the entourage he brought for you to leave. He'd brought a nanny with him - just in case you wanted to leave Lily and Olivia to go watch the fight. He was driving you crazy more than usual.

You didn't need help, you just needed space and for not a single soul to mention to Viktor that he had an earlier than expected baby girl he'd never seen. You'd also spoken to Ivan at length who had been extra hard and stubborn on your behalf making sure everything and everyone would be perfect.

***

Just as the fight started Olivia woke up with a cry. You half didn't mind as she'd been asleep for a long time, as if she was waiting for the perfect moment to announce her presence in the world. She was very quiet for a newborn.

You noticed that Viktor seemed to be fighting differently, quicker, even harder, like he just wanted it to be over.

But that wasn't surprising. When Viktor had agreed to the fight, there were a few additional requirements that Buddy had added in. Endorsements and a whole bunch of extra PR stuff, including promo stuff with Adonis Creed.

"Hey!" you called to Buddy. He turned around with that stupid grin on his face. "Just remembered my husband's a person and not just your cash cow" he'd then proceeded to try and butter you up but it didn't work.

***

As the ring filled with people from either team and the official referee to call the match you spotted Buddy climbing into the ring. You held your breath as you watched him whisper something to Viktor. Ivan appeared and pushed Buddy away, but you could see Viktor was getting impatient and just wanted the result said. You watched Ivan place his hands on Viktor's shoulders and he calmed down a little. The referee appeared and the camera angle zoomed back showing Viktor and his opponent standing either side of the referee.

You didn't let your breathe go until the referee held up Viktor's arms and the crowd cheered. Lily jumped up dancing around with her picture in her hand. "Told you daddy won" she wiggled her hips side to side and threw the picture in the air along with her crayons.

***

Now you felt sick. Sheer panic and you tried to organise your thoughts and your words to explain to Viktor that you were sorry for not telling him that Olivia had come early, that you cried after every phone call with him because you wanted to just tell him. But you were glad that you didn't, that there were no distractions.

"Lily, come here please" you call, her silence not always a good thing. She skips from the bedroom, her face covered in melted chocolate. Then she stop rigid, eyes wide. "Daddy!“ she screams, sprinting past you. You turn, this isn't how you wanted him to find out. "Grandpa!“ Lily screeches, almost another octave higher. She doges Viktor and throws herself at Ivan.

Viktor doesn't seem to mind that Lily skipped him. He's staring at you or Olivia, or both of you as you rock Olivia in your arms. She's quiet now, as if nothing happened. He drops his bag and slowly walks closer to you. When he reaches you, he pulls you against him, his lips rest on forehead which makes you cry.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm sorry you had to do this on your own" Viktor tenderly hugs you, careful not to squash Olivia.

You pull away to wipe your face with one hand, surprised at how relaxed Viktor is. "My dad told me. I made him when I saw he had a lot of calls from Jenny, I thought something was wrong" you looked to Ivan, but he was busy cleaning the chocolate from Lily's face.

***

Everything was calmer. Everything was fine. Viktor sat holding Olivia, with Lily on his lap. They talk in hushed tones over a sleeping Olivia. Both falling quiet every so often to stare at the peaceful baby.

Viktor was stunned by how beautiful his second baby girl was. Her tiny nose, her tiny mouth, her ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Lily's mind was slightly blown by Viktor telling her she was once this small, even he was too.

Together they couldn’t stop looking at Olivia. Every now and then Lily gently kissed her sister - telling Viktor all the things she planned to teach her little sister - coloring within the lines, eating jellies that Aunt Jenny brings etc, eating all the chocolate you could find in a hotel suite.

By the time Ivan got back with food for everyone, it was his turn to fuss over his new grandchild. "World's happiest grandfather" Ivan announced taking Olivia from Viktor. He sat down on the couch with Olivia while you pulled out your phone to show Viktor the million photos you'd taken while he was away.

**********************************************

Tags: @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @chaneajoyyy

@honeychicana @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @crushed-pink-petals @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @deathonyourtongue @designerwriterchic @itsbqueenthings @alicesfracturedmirror

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Darlene”

Summary: Amidst an unsettling arrest at CIStech, Elliot decides it’s time for Y/N to meet his sister, Darlene. He’s also ready to acknowledge his feelings, and afterward, Y/N takes it a step further to offer Elliot some more consistency in his life.

Story Summary,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”,  “The Long Weekend, Part II”,  “The Aftermath”,  “Undecided”,  **“Decided”,  “Spooked”,  **“Fourth of July, Part I”,  *”Fourth of July, Part II”

Word Count: 7600

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel​ @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie​ 

*Updated tags--If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know. 

Warnings: Mild sexual content, mild description of a panic attack

“How could this have happened?” I asked more to myself than to Alison Shaye, head of HR, as I rubbed my temples and looked over the substantial brief one more time.

It was mid-August and the summer heat had reached a sweltering climax. It hadn’t rained since the day Elliot and I drove back from my parents’ house in Greenwich, and the city was collectively frustrated by the hot weather.

Everyone except Elliot and me—we had been wrapped up in one another, running our new daily program which now included seeing each other almost every night. Even though Elliot hadn’t yet returned my pronouncement of love, I could tell there was something different in the way he looked at me since that night on the floor of my closet.

As promised, I didn’t push. I never asked for more from him than he was willing to give. I still told Elliot how I felt when I felt it, and he answered me with a smile or with a head shake of disbelief.

And I let it be enough.

“He’s been selling our data for over two years—ever since he had to split the custody of his son with his ex-girlfriend,” stated Alison, yanking me back to the madness of my current situation.

“But it’s Colin. He’s an asshole, not a criminal.”

“Apparently he’s both,” Alison said in her colorless tone, showing for the first time I had ever seen, a less than professional impartiality.  

“And the police were just sent this file? A neat little package of all that Colin’s been doing? This had to take months to put together—bank transactions, meeting dates, cell phone records, IP addresses, logins, everything.”

“So it seems. About a month ago, an attorney called to confirm Colin’s hire date, our company’s pay dates, and a few other simple employee identification questions. I didn’t think much of it because I assumed it had something to do with a custody suit. When I met with a detective last week for more thorough questioning, my confirmation of dates must have been the last thing they needed to make an arrest. Colin lawyered up, confessed, and took a deal. Didn’t even try to fight the allegations.”

“Damn,” I breathed, still in disbelief.

“Ms. Y/L/N? You need to head upstairs for your meeting.”

I stood up and thanked Alison. As she left, I steadied my nerves and gathered up my files. Since Precision Machining was our host company, its Board of Directors controlled us as well. Miles said I would occasionally be called in for meetings with them as the highest person at CIStech, but who knew my first meeting would be one about an employee caught committing insider trading?

I swiped my badge and rode the elevator to the second to last floor of our building. The vibe at the top is always different in any office building. Things are quiet, sterile, and there’s a general feeling of ill-ease, like no one wants to talk too loud or draw too much attention to what they are doing. Even the phones ring quietly on the top floor.

I checked in with the receptionist and she took me straight back to the board room. My father still retained his seat on the board, so I knew there would be at least one face in the room I could focus on as I faced the inquiry.

My eyes scanned the room and I couldn’t help but inwardly sigh at the sea of white, grizzled faces, only two women amongst them, and none of them with a welcoming expression.

I lifted my chin and walked quickly to the open seat at the end of the table, the chattering continuing as most of the members hadn’t noticed my entrance. Only when I was settled, my hands folded on the table and my breathing even, did I risk looking up to find my father’s face—his features etched into a mask of indifference until I locked eyes with him.

He was watching me, and when I met his gaze, his handsome face filled with concern.

“Oh—CIStech’s here,” the president of the board said when he noticed the addition of a body to the table.

The other board members grew quiet and turned in their highback, expensive leather chairs to face me. The table was steel, possibly something that had been done in one of the machining shops to add to the sterility of the room which contained nothing remarkable except for the window-lined walls that opened up to a glorious view of the city.

I looked around, making eye contact, knowing I had to project confidence. They were looking for someone to blame, and I was their best choice until I convinced them otherwise.

The president began the meeting by summarizing Colin’s offense. It was then that I learned Colin took a deal that sentenced him to six months in jail for securities fraud, plus a year and six months on probation. He defrauded Precision Machining of $450,000.

“I guess my question for Ms. Y/L/N, is how the hell did this happen?”

I explained my understanding of the police report, adding in relevant tech details. To finish, I added, “The truth of it is, Colin Greene used his position at CIStech to gather sensitive information he then sold on the dark web that resulted in his own financial gain.”

“How do we get that information back?”

Christ, I thought as I fought not to roll my eyes at the outdated question from someone who had no clue how the internet worked.

“There is no such thing as ‘getting back’ information once it’s been propagated online.”

“The more important question is,” spoke up the baldest, loudest man to my right, “how you stop this from happening again. Isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that what you have a whole company doing?”

“We work very hard to keep your information secure—”

“Damn good job, you did of it, too, tootsie,” spoke up an equally bald, but less loud board member who then shot my father a scathing glare before saying. “I don’t care that your dad’s sitting across from me. 450k is nothing, a drop in the bucket, but what happens when techs like you and yours get greedy?”

“Colin’s arrest has proven there are consequences for this sort of crime—”

“Yes, if someone outside of your company reports them.”

I looked at the woman who spoke up, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes staring at me with an unrelenting gaze.

“I understand your frustration, but I assure you we prevent far more—”

“That’s supposed to reassure us? It’s not an exaggeration when I speak on behalf of the board to say that we see your charts, your data analysis, and we have, until now, assumed it all correlates to the near-perfect record of cybersecurity this company has maintained. But this event casts serious doubt on your ability to protect us against . . . ourselves.”

She had a point, and for the first time I faltered, looking down at the thick police report, realizing I did indeed fail to stop something dire from happening within the company. I glanced to my father and he gave me a small nod of encouragement, looking at me with eyes the exact shade of mine.

I took a deep breath and began again. I fielded questions for well over an hour, answering every concern and theoretical potential fix the board members threw at me until I had sated them. Though they were all wealthy, many of them far worse people than Colin and with even less regard for the stockholders they served, they were no different than anyone else who wanted to have their voice heard. They felt vulnerable, something people in their position had the luxury of rarely feeling. Their reactions were out of fear of that vulnerability, so I tried my best to alleviate it.

And this time, it worked.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. We will expect an update on your aforementioned new protocols at next month’s board meeting. You did say you’d have data by then?

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

I gathered my files and left the board room, only to be greeted by Miles who had been waiting to see me.

“How’d it go in there?”

“Well, appalling to start, but I think I brought them around.”

“We need to talk about Colin’s replacement.”  

“Talk or tell?”

“Tell,” Miles said, walking me to the elevator, getting in, and selecting his floor.

We rode down the few floors in silence and I followed him past his secretary and into his office, a corner office with a perfect view—just what Miles had always wanted.

“Nice digs,” I said, smiling a little.

“Damn right.”

“This is going to be painful, isn’t it?”

“Certain individuals within the company feel it would be best to put someone of a particular pedigree and integrity in Colin’s office. They want to send the message that everyone is replaceable . . . with someone better.”

“Okay?”

“Ali Olayan.”

I snorted, surprised, but not actually. I moved to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs across from Miles’ desk and I crossed my legs before tossing my files onto the seat next to me. I rested my hands on top of my knees and looked up.

“And if I say no?”

“You can’t say no. Not if you want this company to continue to take you seriously as Y/N Y/L/N and not just as daddy’s little girl.”

“You remember what Ali did?”

Miles rolled his eyes before continuing, “You made the choice to get involved with Alderson knowing the possibility of a move like this. When we kept Corey and Ali, it would only be up or out for them. It was a 50/50 chance, Y/N. You bet the house, and you lost.”

I looked to the side to look out of Miles’ magnificent set of windows. For the first time, I wondered what it would be like to leave this world, to leave Wall Street and to never look back.

* * * * *

Elliot watched from the sofa as I stormed around my apartment, slamming the refrigerator door for the fifth time having not pulled a single thing out to eat or drink.

“I just can’t fucking believe this! How could I not have known Colin was selling off our data, fucking Martha Stewart insider trading horseshit right under my fucking nose!?”

I walked back the hall, turned around and came thumping back into the living room, circling the couch, ignoring Elliot’s alarmed expression. I slammed my hands on the counter and he jumped, finally tired of twisting to watch my movements, so he used the momentum to stand up.

Elliot was still dressed in his work clothes due to the forcefulness of my invitation to come home with me. Rarely, did we leave the office together, but I gave Elliot little choice today. Everyone on the floor, including JaLeah, watched with interest as I damn-near yanked him out of his chair and told him he was done for the day.

“Why—why are you so angry?” Elliot asked, his face filled with concern. “I thought you didn’t like Colin?”

I took a deep breath, glanced at Elliot, and decided to finally open a bottle of wine to take the edge off. I moved around the counter and fished out my corkscrew.

As I chose a bottle of wine from the little wire rack on my counter, I started to explain. “It’s not about Colin. Well, it is. But it’s more about who they want me to have replace him.”

“Oh,” Elliot said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said, sticking the screw into the cork of the wine bottle and twisting.

“Ali Olayan.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, his voice a lower and darker.

“And I wasn’t given a choice—it’s Ali . . . or me, essentially. Do you want any of this?” I asked as I reached for a wine glass.

“No.”

I pulled a single glass out of the cupboard and began to pour.

“If I comply and make it a smooth transition, I’ll keep the respect I’ve earned, the name I’ve made for myself. If I refuse, if I complicate this promotion, I may as well resign because everything I’ve worked for will be made into a mockery—daddy’s little girl, does exactly what she wants because she can. Because she’s so fucking privileged.”

I took a long drink and continued as Elliot’s eyes flicked between the counter and my face. “You should’ve seen the file this tipster compiled on Colin. It was a detective’s wet dream. Literally everything tracked, everything monitored, times, dates, transactions—everything. Whoever put it together is a fucking genius. Even better than you,” I said with an eyeroll and a snort into my glass as I took another drink.

Elliot looked at me, his eyes oddly focused this evening. Normally, if I was overly emotional, he was unsure how to proceed and kept as much distance as he could. But tonight—something was different. He was much more sure of himself.

“Maybe it needed to happen?” Elliot offered.

“What do you mean?”

“How much longer could he really have gotten away with it? You can bet he would’ve fucked up soon enough—it’s Colin, after all. And you’d be in this exact same position a month or two months from now. If—if it weren’t for me, would you go along with it without protest?”

I looked at Elliot for a long time and felt like I was being tested as his gaze remained fastened on mine.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“You’ve made it personal, Y/N. Well, I’ve made it personal.”

“I’m afraid of breaking your trust by not pushing back.”

“Is that the only reason why you want to push back? For me?”

“No—it’s, it’s not the right thing to do, to promote someone because of their connections, their wealth and status, it’s not the right thing to do. I got into tech because I wanted to protect people, people like my dad—good people, not just rich people—who pour their souls into their businesses. When people are that invested in their business, they’re going to be that invested in their employees.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” I said with a conviction.

“You’re a good person,” Elliot said as he moved closer to me. “The best person I know.”

“That’s not saying a lot considering you know maybe five people, including me,” I teased.

Elliot laughed softly, his face set in a sweet smile.

“I guess you’re right.”

I turned to face him, my hand still resting on the stem of my glass as it sat on the counter.

“So what do I do now?”

“You play their game. You protect yourself, gain their trust, and bide your time until you can enact change.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“But,” Elliot continued, moving so close he was now a breath away from me. “You’ll still be a good person. A good person caught in the machinations of corporate greed—you had to know something like this would happen if you stayed on Wall Street.”

I looked into Elliot’s face, his grey eyes filled with concern and also with a confidence I rarely saw—he was right and knew he was right.

“You’re right. Unless I just walk in and quit in a fiery rage,” I finished, remembering the feeling I had in Miles’ office as I looked out of the window.

“You’re not a quitter,” Elliot said, his hands coming to rest on my upper arms. “Places like that need people like you in positions of power. It’s all about balance.”

“I’m vastly outnumbered.”

“All the more reason to stay and fight.”

“Who are you tonight?” I asked with a huff of a laugh.

Elliot’s face turned serious and he gripped my arms a little tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just . . . so sure of yourself.”

Elliot shook his head.

“I’m sure of you,” he said before pressing his lips to mine, kissing me with purpose until I almost forgot the horrors of the day. I was enveloped by him, quickly lost in his citrusy scent that curled around me so totally that I nearly forgot I needed to ask him something important.

I broke the kiss, pulling away and causing Elliot to start stammering out an apology before I shushed him as I waved my hand.

“I almost forgot! Can you do something for me? Can you see if you can figure out who tipped off the police? I don’t have that kind of skill set.”

“Are you asking me to hack? I thought we lived by the rule of, ‘Don’t hack, ask?’” Elliot said, his lips twisted into the perfect curl of a grin again.

“I’m being serious—can you just see what you can find out? I don’t ever want to be blindsided like that again. Dad said the first time the board put Miles through the ringer, they had to call the meeting short so he could collect himself. I get why. It was brutal, and I never want to feel that unprepared again.”

“I can look into it,” Elliot said as his hands slid up my arms to rest on either side of my face, his thumbs settling on the outer corners of my mouth.

“Thanks, El,” I said before his lips were on mine and I let myself go, lost in that citrusy-grey darkness that was Elliot, the day’s events fading away until they were barely visible in my mind’s eye.

* * * * *

A few days after Colin’s arrest, I was sprawled out on Elliot’s bed, answering emails I hadn’t gotten to during the day. It was 8 pm when he walked into my office, the building long emptied, and told me it was time to quit. Once again, he was right, and he knew he was right, so we went back to his place for some takeout.

I had moved to his bed to stretch out after eating, loving the way I could just snuggle in and be surrounded by everything that was him. Elliot was in the kitchen finishing up the dishes when he asked, well, stated that he’d like me to meet his sister.

I stopped reading and stared at him, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“What? Are you sure?”

“It’s been over a month since I met your family. It’s time for you to meet mine.”

“If you’re sure?” I said, my heart picking up its pace a bit as I finally tossed my phone aside, officially quitting work for the day. I could always count on Elliot to provide a thorough distraction, on purpose or not.

Elliot laughed, “Are you nervous?”

“Yes!”

“Darlene is not someone to be nervous about meeting. Buy her dinner and her loyalty is yours,” Elliot said as he toweled off his hands and walked toward his bed.

“She’s not a stray cat! She’s your sister—the only person, well aside from Angela, that you really seem to give a shit about. What if she thinks I’m bad for you? That would be it. You’d be gone. And—”

“You’re babbling,” Elliot said, cutting me off as he crawled onto the bed, moving to sit beside me and to take my hand.

He lifted my palm to his lips and pressed a kiss there before continuing.

“This is not even in the same ballpark of the kind of daunting meet-the-parents plus the whole family thing that you did to me.”

“Fuck me,” I said, thunking my head against the wall.

“Alright,” Elliot said with a mischievous light in his eyes.  

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Not funny.”

“I seem to recall a girl who said something wildly inappropriate to me just as we pulled into her parents’ driveway.”

“That was funny.”

“No.”

You harrumphed and Elliot chuckled before pulling you close.

“I can’t keep you a secret forever. Don’t want to.”

“Adopting my lifestyle now? Elliot Alderson is climbing out of the shadows?”

“Fuck no—I still like my…mysterious persona. Keeps people at a safe distance.”

“Didn’t work on me.”

“No, you little weirdo. You were like a moth to a black flame.”

“I really was,” I said through a soft laugh. “I think I was half in love with you after the night I helped you prep for idiot Colin’s presentation.”

“And now you’re all the way in love with me?”

“For the thousandth, unrequited time, yes,” I said turning my head to smile at him.

“It’s not,” Elliot said, his face growing serious, my own smile faltering as I looked at him in the dim lighting of his apartment.

“What?” I whispered, my voice sounding like it was a million miles away.

“It’s not…unrequited. I—I love you,” Elliot said, his eyes suddenly finding a spot to look at on the bookshelf next to me.

“I love you, too,” I said, my face stretching into the biggest smile it had ever achieved.  

Elliot took a deep breath and his eyes flicked to me now that the danger had passed, relief settling over not just his face, but his entire body.

“Check something for me?”

I furrowed my brow and slowly said, “Okay. . .”

“Check outside and see if hell’s frozen over.”

I laughed and launched myself into his arms, half sitting on his lap.

I pulled back from my hug to search his face, my thumb resting on his cheek as I cupped his jaw.

“Hell doesn’t freeze over when you tell someone you love them.”

“I feel a little sick,” he said, smiling shyly up at me.

“That feeling in the pit of your stomach,” I began as I touched him there, “like everything is just too much, like you’ve just gotten out of a bathtub after having your skin scrubbed raw, that vulnerability. That’s love.”

“I’m not sure if that’s poetic or if that’s even supposed to make me feel better, but it’s pretty fucking accurate.”

“I’ve been feeling it longer, so I’m the expert.”

“You haven’t—I just haven’t been able to tell you until now.”

We looked at each other for a long, long moment and I knew he meant it. Elliot loved me. I moved all the way into his lap and straddled him.

“I want you so much, El,” I breathed. “All of you. All the time.”

“I’ll always give you as much of myself as I can—promise,” Elliot said as he closed his eyes and let me kiss him.

The kiss was as slow and as sensual as our sex; we undressed each other, took turns kissing one another from head to toe. By the time Elliot slid into my aching, wet heat, I was near tears, overwhelmed by the intensity of our now shared, raw emotion.

We came, successively breathing one another’s names over and over, and I was sure that life couldn’t get any better than this.

* * * * *

Darlene Alderson may have physically resembled her brother, beautiful face with big eyes that made me feel exposed as they traveled over my face, but that’s where their similarities ended. She was outspoken, crass, and owned any room she was in. She projected a confidence I only rarely saw in Elliot, and she also seemed to speak each thought as it popped into her mind, very unlike her brother’s labored communications.

The plan was to meet at Elliot’s apartment to watch movies and order a pizza; I asked if we should go out somewhere nice and he outright laughed.

“Darlene doesn’t really do . . . nice.”

“Everyone likes a little nice.”

“Not my sister,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

I thought he was wrong, but then again, Elliot had been right about a whole lot of things lately.

Despite asking Elliot to look into the people who hacked Colin, he hadn’t been able to find anything. I was surprised, but I knew if anyone could find something, it was him. Since he hadn’t, it made me more nervous because so far, we were the vigilante’s only target. Insider trading wasn’t something rare—if the hacker’s goal wasn’t exposure, what exactly was it?

My anxiety had been worsening since Colin’s arrest and resulted in my first full-blown panic attack in months. I woke up, sweating, certain death was imminent as my heart hammered so hard I could feel it pounding when I held a hand to my chest. I was relieved Elliot hadn’t spent the night. I didn’t want him to see how much all of this stress was affecting me.

But thankfully, Elliot continued to provide ample distraction and waiting to meet his sister made me a different kind of nervous, one that forced me to put Colin out of my mind, again.

I roamed around Elliot’s apartment, straightening things that didn’t need straightened. I had made the bed twice and was now giving it another weary eye.

“Please let me buy you a bed.”

“I can buy a bed if I want to.”

I growled and left Elliot to fuck around on his computer, not really looking at what he was doing. He usually wasn’t on it when we were together, but he said he had something to finish before Darlene got there.  

“Stop . . . fusspotting,” he mumbled without turning around and without missing a keystroke.

I stopped in my tracks and marched to stand behind Elliot’s computer chair.

“That’s what my nanny always said! She called me her little fusspot.”

“I know,” Elliot chuckled as he swiveled his chair around. “Your mom told me that. She said you’ve always been a nervous person, even as a child. And, it’s selfish, but I like it when you’re outwardly nervous—makes me feel more normal.”

Elliot scooted forward and ran his hands up my thighs, pulling me close to hug me, his head resting on my stomach as his hands cupped my ass.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at what he was doing on the computer. It looked like he was creating a virus—

Elliot pulled open the button of my jeans with his teeth and successfully diverted my attention.

“Elliot! Your sister will be here any minute.”

“I’ll lock the door,” he said in a muffle as he started licking at the skin he had just exposed.

But it was too late for that.

The door to Elliot’s apartment flung open and Darlene came in, causing me to jump back from him so quickly I tripped and fell onto the mattress, causing Elliot to then tumble out of his computer chair.

I quickly rebuttoned my jeans and prayed to god for the mattress to open up and swallow me.

“Ew,” Darlene said, staring at the two of us.

Elliot rolled over onto his back, his sides shaking with a silent laugh until I kicked his shoulder and rolled off the bed.

I knew my cheeks were red, so I took a deep breath and gathered what respect I had left for myself and walked over to Darlene.

“Hi—sorry about that. Your brother’s a complete dick.”

Darlene grinned, and I was struck by how much she looked like Elliot when she smiled.

“Finally! Someone else gets it. I’m Darlene,” she said with a wave as she dumped her bag on Elliot’s table.

“Y/N,” you said with your own wave and embarrassed smile.

“I think you dislocated my shoulder,” Elliot said from his spot on the floor as he watched us both turn to look at him.

“Good,” Darlene and I said at the same time before looking at each other and laughing.

“Fuck. I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Elliot mumbled as he pulled himself up and back into his chair.

“Did you fix my virus?” Darlene asked as she moved past me to stand beside Elliot’s chair.

Elliot turned to look at her, clearly telling her to shut the fuck up with his eyes, but I spoke up.

“I can see it’s a virus. And you only popped the button of my jeans to distract me from looking at it.”

They both turned to look at me, twin expressions of incredulity, waiting to see what I would say next.

I crossed my arms and waited—I knew how to wait Elliot out.

“Darlene writes viruses and sells them to companies that make antivirus software.”

I raised my eyebrow, “Interesting niche.”

Darlene grinned, “We can’t all be corporate sellouts like you two.”

“Darlene,” Elliot warned.

“It’s a joke, douche,” Darlene huffed as she plopped on the bed.

“I knew this job would make you uptight—no offense, Y/N. I mean, someone’s gotta do it. Just never thought it would be my brother.”

“Do you . . . want a job? We could always use another tech.”

“No,” Elliot said, a look of horror washing over his face.

Darlene laughed and lifted her head to turn her eyes to me.

“So, you could just do that? Snap your fingers and get me a j-o-b?”

“You’re Elliot’s sister, his family. I’d do anything to help you—if you wanted it,” I added hastily.

Elliot and Darlene looked at each other, and Darlene laughed, laughed so hard a tear squeezed out from the corner of her eye.

“Elliot told me you were, like a good person or whatever, but shit. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t wanted to fuck me has ever offered to do anything that nice for me. Wait--you’re not into freaky siblin--”

“Darlene!” Elliot yelled, the vein in his neck popping.

Darlene raised her arms in a gesture of surrender and said, “Excuuuse me.”

I watched their exchange with a smirk of understanding. I did have three siblings of my own.

“Jobs aren’t exactly a scarce commodity for techs on Wall Street,” I said, crossing my arms and drawing their attention back to me.

“Just something to think about if you ever want some stability,” I added as Darlene continued to look at me like I was an alien.

“Elliot says you’re rich—”

“Fucking shut up, Darlene!” Elliot groaned, twisting his hands in his hair and standing.

“My father is rich, so yeah. I’ve never gone without,” I said with a slight head shake at Elliot’s distress.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Elliot said taking a step toward me while still glaring at Darlene who only rolled her eyes.

I chuckled, “It’s fine, El. She’s curious and clearly doesn’t beat around the bush—unlike you.”

“Ha!” Darlene said, raising her middle finger at her brother’s back.

This was . . . interesting, I thought. Not at all how I thought it was going to go, but there was something refreshing about Darlene, something childish in the same way there was something childish about Elliot—only on opposite ends of the spectrum. She had a child’s impetuousness, while Elliot had a child’s reservation. I wondered for the millionth time just what it was like growing up for the two of them because I had a feeling it was, at best, difficult. Most people shed those traits with maturity, and it was odd neither Elliot nor Darlene ever did.

I did enjoy Darlene’s assertiveness, even though I was certain it had gotten her in trouble over the years, but that’s what big brothers were for, right?

“Anything else you wanna know?” I asked as I sat on the edge of Elliot’s mattress.

“Since you both have fancy ass jobs for a fancy ass corporation, why the hell are we eating pizza in Elliot’s shithole apartment?”

“I told you,” I said looking at Elliot with a smirk.

Elliot sunk into his chair, sighing heavily before he popped the CD from his computer and tossed it to Darlene.

“Let’s go out,” I suggested. “Elliot and I had this debate before you got here, and I’m happy to say that he just lost because I was right.”

“Elliot needs a good check. He’s not always right,” Darlene said, glancing at him and giving him a smirk.

Elliot just looked at Darlene and shook his head.

“So, dinner in Midtown? Do you like seafood?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“I’ll make a phone call,” I said smiling, enjoying using my privilege to impress Darlene.

I wanted her to like me; she was the only family Elliot really had, and she could be a good ally if he ever needed more than just I could give him.

“El? Do you feel like going out?”

“Does it matter?”

I looked at him and wondered if our teasing really had bothered him.

“Of course it does,” I said with a soft tone as Darlene looked between us, watching our exchange with interest.

Elliot’s eyes ran over my face, and his lips gave me a ghost of a smile.

“I guess even Darlene likes a little nice.”

“Told you,” I said before I went to retrieve my cellphone.

As I made reservations, I could hear the quiet mumble of Elliot’s voice in the background and Darlene’s much less quiet answers. When I hung up with the restaurant, I ordered an Uber.

“Uber will be here in 15 minutes. Should give us plenty of time to make our reservation.”

Both Elliot and Darlene looked up at me, that twin expression again which was starting to unnerve me a bit. Getting up from the bed, Darlene took the CD Elliot gave her and shoved it in her bag. She pulled out her phone and checked it, her thumbs moving quickly as she answered a text or an email.

Elliot turned off his computer before turning his attention to me.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said quietly as he put his hands on my waist.

“I want her to like me,” I said into his ear as I hugged him quickly.

“She does,” he whispered back, pressing a barely-there kiss to my temple.

* * * * *

Dinner was fun and easier than when it was just Elliot and I sometimes. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy quiet nights with Elliot; it was that, given what happened with Colin this week, I greatly appreciated the distraction. It was nice to get lost in Darlene’s stories, and as it turned out, there wasn’t much she wasn’t willing to share, talking almost nonstop about everything from her love life to her and Elliot’s childhood.

Elliot listened, but I could tell he wasn’t truly present. There was something about his sister that seemed to make him retreat further into himself. I wasn’t sure if it had something to do with me or if it was something to do with their childhood. After the Fourth of July, I hadn’t pressed Elliot. He seemed to be in such a good place that I didn’t want to open up a door he clearly needed to keep closed.

“Do you remember that, El?” Darlene asked.

“Hmm?” Elliot questioned, clearly not listening.

“That first time we went to the museum in Queens with Angela? The place you always ran away to?”

Elliot gave a half-convincing nod.

“Anyway, it has this really cool model of the entire city. You should check it out.”

“I’ve lived here forever and never knew it was there. I love finding spots in the city I’ve never visited.”

“We should go—all of us,” Darlene suggested, looking at her brother.

Elliot didn’t answer, which seemed to be something Darlene was used to. She gave him time, but when it became clear that was as far as she was getting, I spoke up.

“Are you busy Saturday morning-ish?”

“I keep my life pretty open to my whims,” Darlene said as she chewed her roll.

“I need to find a dress for this dinner thing next week. Do you want to come shopping with me? I could use a second opinion—and lunch would be my treat for putting up with my indecisiveness.”

“Sure,” Darlene said with a grin. “Let me get your number.”

She opened her phone and quickly created a new contact for me to enter my number. Elliot watched us with a little more interest now that Darlene wasn’t talking about their childhood.

By the end of the night, I felt like Darlene and I were on our way to becoming friends. When the Uber took us back to Elliot’s, I let them go back to his place alone to have some time, probably to talk about me.

Elliot gave me a look and a wave as he shut the door, and I could hear Darlene chastising him for not kissing me goodnight. I waved and shook my head, giving the driver my apartment’s address.

* * * * *

As it turned out, shopping with Darlene was fun. While I tended to err on the side of being reserved and polite, she was to the point, and I ended up finding a dress more quickly than usual thanks to her frank opinion.

We had lots of time before lunch to wonder through a few more boutiques and Darlene stopped to try on some sunglasses. She looked particularly cute in a pair of heart-shaped ones, and I offered to buy them for her as a thank you.

She accepted with a shrug of her shoulders and a grin, once again the complete opposite of her brother, which I told her.

“I know, right? Elliot said I get it from dad. He was never afraid to say what was on his mind.”

“Does he talk about your dad to you? Or your mom?”

“Not if he can help it. We had a pretty shit childhood. Dad died when I was 5, so I have trouble remembering him. It hurt Elliot—they were best friends. I think my mom was always kinda jealous of that and really took it out on him. Which is really funny because it only made us hate her more.”

“Is she still living?”

“Yup. But she’s in assisted living. Fuck if either one of us was going to take care of her when she started getting sick. When Elliot left for college, I counted down the days until I could get the fuck out of that house. Without him, it was depressing as shit.”

“So you two are really close?”

Darlene gave me a measured look before replying, “How long have you known Elliot?”

“Mmm, almost a year.”

“But, like, you haven’t been close until, what, like a few months ago?”

“We were pretty close at work from the start. I was one of the only people he talked to.”

“But you didn’t really hang out a lot?”

“No.”

“And, since you got close, nothing strange has happened?”

I stopped walking and turned to face Darlene.

“Strange as in . . . occasional memory loss?”

“Yes!” Darlene said, her face filling with relief. “I was fishing because I didn’t want to—you know, Elliot is the best person I know. I would do anything for him, anything to protect him the same way he’s always protected me.”

“I understand. There’s something about him that makes you want to give him a really big hug and tell him the world isn’t as shitty as he thinks it is.

“But fuck if he’ll let anyone. I mean, you’re the only real girlfriend besides Angela he’s ever had. And they had some sort of friends with benefits thing going on—she’s her own basket of freshly baked fucked up.”

I laughed, “What the hell did they put in the water where you’re from?”

Darlene chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Anyway. Elliot’s had those weird blackouts since we were kids. I’m convinced it has something to do with keeping people at a distance, at least that was what it always seemed to be with us. But that shit works on your nerves and for a while Elliot and I just didn’t talk. I mean, we kept tabs on each other, but we didn’t see each other.”

“Well, I think you’re good for him. He needs people who care about him actively in his life. Being alone like he was—that’s not good for anyone.”

Darlene smiled.

“I’m glad he has you—not just because you’re rich, but you seem cool.”

“Thanks, but no worries. I come with my own, how did you put it? Basket of fresh-baked fucked up?” I asked through a laugh.

“That was a good description, huh?”

“It was. So, maybe you can help me figure out how I’m going to tell Elliot I’ve rented him a tux and he has to attend this event with me?”

Darlene threw her head back and laughed, clearly loving that her brother had just been sentenced to a night of boring horror, and we linked arms as we walked to a café around the corner for lunch, grinning as we guessed at his response.

* * * * *

I hung my new dress on the back of my closet door, making a mental note to go through my shoes to see what matched and to remember to tell Elliot he had plans on Wednesday night.

Spending the day with Darlene had been fun, but exhausting. Getting to know people was hard work, especially people as complex as the Aldersons.

Elliot had said he wanted to come over, so I left my door unlocked while I ran a bath, loading up on the bubbles.

As I watched the tub fill up, I thought that maybe I should give Elliot a key to my place. Elliot Alderson most likely wasn’t about to break up with the person he finally got the courage to tell he loved, so the gesture might be another nice piece of consistency for him (and for me).  

I stepped out of my underwear and slid into the tub, luxuriating in the warmth and the sweet scent of coconuts. I had almost fallen asleep when there was a soft knock on my door before Elliot pushed his way into the bathroom.

He gave me a soft smile and took a seat on the edge of the tub.

“So you do use this thing?”

“Everyone loves a good soak in the tub.”

I paused, then seductively asked, “Want to join me?”

“No,” Elliot said flatly, making me laugh. He was such an atypical man that it was refreshing at times.

“That’s okay—I’m wiped. Your sister is exhausting. She has more energy than a child.”

Elliot nodded, his eyes incredibly focused on my face.

“I like her, though. I want to spend more time with her.”

“I’m glad,” Elliot said with relief. “I wasn’t sure if she’d be too much for you. She’s too much for me sometimes.”

“She loves you, El. So much. It’s sweet.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, a) she’s your sister,” I said, sitting up a bit and shaking off my sleep. “And b) she said you were the best person she’s ever known. I’d say that means she loves you.”

“I really don’t deserve that. I’ve done some shitty things to her.”

“Haven’t we all? I mean, to our siblings. Erin told you all about the epic chip battle of 1996.”

Elliot snorted, “I hardly think that counts.”

“I was being funny. We weren’t about to rehash the time she fucked my prom date in our limo the first time you met the family.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Erin was evil to me throughout high school. Granted, she was addicted to pills and to boys—she was six shades of fucked up.”

“What—why?”

“Two excellent questions, both with pretty blasé explanations. She got in with the wrong crowd, loved the attention, and just got sucked into that shitty world. It took years of therapy, and she was in and out of rehab until she finally found a purpose. She’s one of the lucky ones—so many addicts can’t find their way back once they take their first hit.”

“Wow. Never would’ve guess that.”

“You didn’t hack them, did you?”

“What?”

“Don’t sound so surprised—I trust you, El, however, I didn’t define all the grey areas, did I?”

“Not really—but I just assumed the whole ask, don’t hack applied to everyone in your life.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“Is there something you want to ask me?”

“No,” I said a little confused. “Should there be something I should be asking you?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Beside the front door, there’s a ring of keys on the very last hook closest to the wall. Bring them to me?”

Elliot got up without saying a word and returned a minute later, the keys jangling as he walked. He handed them to me, and I shook the bubbles off my hand before I searched for my apartment key and wriggled it off the keyring.

“Here you go,” I said, holding the little silver key out to Elliot who now looked like he had a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth barely parting.

“I want you to be able to come and go as you please—and it also means I don’t have to get up to answer the door anymore, or leave it unlocked if I know you’re coming over at some point in the evening. It’s a gift of convenience.”

“Are you . . . sure?”

“It’s just a key to my apartment, El. Not an invitation to our wedding,” I finished as I closed my eyes and didn’t bother to hide the smirk on my face. I could practically hear the pistons misfiring in his brain at the mention of a wedding.

“Thanks,” came his cautious, quiet reply.

I nodded my head, not bothering to open my eyes as I let the warmth of the water envelop me again.

[dimples-of-discontent]

Hello, it is I, a 34 year-old woman who has come here to talk about someone I know who may or may not have a crush on me but it’s irrelevant because 1) he’s not single and 2) I have cancer so I’m not going to date anyone anyway. But guess what? I don’t care!! Some things just never change and the kind of “am I reading this right??” insecurity that you have when you’re a teenager just never goes away.

So, hey, if you’ve missed me I’m here to deliver all kinds of silliness tonight! I’ve been away lately because, during the week, I went to an appointment in Boston with a doctor from Harvard who specializes in the kind of breast cancer I have and (hurray!) think it really paid off and I think I’ll be treated there. Then, for the weekend, my NY-area friends and I went away to a cabin in the woods for pre-chemo celebration/togetherness. (Don’t worry; it wasn’t like a horror movie.) It was totally wonderful. I drove to and from the cabin with the dude in question. My adolescent ramblings below.

So, back in August I wrote this silly post about whether I was over- or misinterpreting my friend’s behavior. At the time, we’d been friends for about 3 months and he and his GF were long-distance. Now, we’ve been friends for an additional 7 months and she’s lived with him for 6 of those. They are now both actually my closest friends in town and really high on the list overall too. I like hanging out with them together and separately. We’ve got a neat nexus of overlapping interests so that any combination of the 3 of us has lots to talk about and a lot of fun. I’m somewhat closer to him, because we see each other SO often and because we often confide things in each other. I’m close to her too, though. It’s rare to find such good friends and, honestly, that’s the only really important thing. I have no interest in losing that.

Anyway, my read on the situation back when I posted in August is now pretty much that he was stressing out about the imminent arrival of the GF because they hadn’t been living together and she was moving there without a job just to be with him and that’s kind of a lot. I have no idea if it had anything to do with me. I think it may have, just in the sense of an additional thing. I think it’s likely that he had some level of crush on me--although even if not we were definitely good friends--and was worried about how that would change with the addition of a partner would change either dynamic. 

It all worked out because the minute the three of us met as a group we clicked instantly. We spent the summer and fall going hiking together and all having long conversations in the car and on the trail. We watched movies together and threw a Halloween party. He and I see each other 5-7 days a week (since we work together) and have a constantly active text conversations (the 3 of us have a GC too). I worried about intruding, but both of them invited me to stuff and were happy to be invited. (I did find it hard/annoying to try to see either one of them socially without the other...they do the couple thing of coming along as a unit but, ultimately, I didn’t make a thing out of it b/c they are great.) I could see how much he relaxed, literally the first few hours we all met up together as it was apparent how well we all got along. So, maybe he was worried about what I was going to do myself as well as his feelings? Who knows.

So I was pretty much on the side of “this was a temporary crush that abated once GF moved in and he remembered why they were together and it was clear that that wasn’t changing just b/c I was around.” That’s true, I think. But...ok. So, I’m very much one for crushing on, hooking up with, and getting into relationships with friends. I find it hard to know any other way. This means that I’m constantly keeping a lid on low-to-high level crushes for unavailable folks. (I think my brain is just wired for romantic/physical attraction to align with emotional closeness...too bad I’m only romantically and physically attracted to men though.) So of course--of COURSE--there is a part of me that wants us to be dating. Inevitably. It’s not helped by the fact that he reminds me so strongly of my first serious boyfriend, a wonderful guy I was with for 3.5 years. And, generally, I blame myself and this fact for any over-reading of things. But then I wonder if I’m not just gaslighting myself (an expert move) b/c I am so worried about coming off as arrogant by thinking he does have romantic feelings.

There are plenty of small things aside from just the constant contact. For one, he was deeply upset by my cancer diagnosis and is taking it all (including my feelings about it) very seriously. And, yeah, that is a very valid reaction, but we haven’t known one another that long...even my exes and friends from 10+ years ago haven’t been as affected, and the people who are have have been in my life for absolute ever. I’m shocked that he and the GF are willing to go through this with me since I feel like I haven’t given them much as friends so far, but they absolutely are so clearly they are just great people.

More frivolously, when one or both of us is intoxicated or otherwise in an altered state he’ll let himself be a lot physically closer to me than usual. Like, it’s actually notable that usually he tries hard not to be touching me, in a way that just has to be deliberate. Friends sit together and knock their shoulders or elbow each other or will pat backs, ruffle hair, share blankets, lean into each other...all the kinds of touching that communicate intimacy without it being sexually charged. If we do that by accident, he’ll move away fast. Except if he’s drunk. And even then it’s absolutely nothing untoward, just drifting into my space, resting knees together. One time we were standing in line for fried food after a bar night, with the GF, all happily drunk, and I leaned into him so our shoulders and arms were pressed together as I read the menu. He moved away so that we weren’t touching. Then, a fraction of a second later, he moved back so that we were pressed together again, like he’d made some kind of decision to do it. He also *never* says anything about my appearance. Like, not even “you look nice” when I’m dressed for an event or “I like your haircut.” Maybe he just doesn’t want to be brought in to validate me or something, but again it feels like it goes against the social norms for friends but makes sense if he’s trying to conceal non-platonic feelings.

We behave enough like a couple that people who encounter us, even at work, often believe we’re together. We share food and drinks (from the same plates or cups) and often bring things that the other has left behind at our places. We have to try not to get the giggles at meetings when inside jokes come up. We tease each other with stories only 2-3 of us (him, me, and GF) know. This is all kind of dumb and, mostly, background noise to a great friendship. I decided that we’d just always have a little tension/chemistry but that we’d probably never mention it and that’s fine. That’s likely right! But this weekend he and I drove up to this cabin together (about 3 hrs each way) and things felt...loaded?

I’m getting tired, so I may need to write down the rest of my thoughts later. But, on the way up, we listened to music and drove through the dark and had some good conversations about friends, family, work, life, etc. The weekend was great (about which more later, hopefully) and then today on the drive back (which, again, is close to 3 hours) we did nothing but talk. First, about life stuff and then, rapidly, about our entire relationship histories. We’d exchanged a lot of that info before--including how much I remind him of the GF before this one, which we affirmed again when I referred to her as “the one who is basically me” and he said “yeah, and in more than the superficial ways too.” To be clear, he wasn’t talking about his current relationship or implying anything like dissatisfaction with it. There was just a whole LOT of dating history, hookup history, good/bad feelings and experiences; the kind of long convo you can have with a friend while burning miles of highway.

We took a break, got back in the car, and I laughed and said “I feel like that was pretty much my whole history but if there’s anything else you want to know AMA!”. I didn’t expect him to take it seriously but he did and basically asked “What crazy things did you do when you were younger” and I was like “in what sense? and what’s do you consider ‘crazy’?” and he was like “I mostly mean sexually...and you get to decide what counts.” So, I don’t have a totally extensive experience to draw from but I have some so I shared a few and was like “what about you?” and then he shared a few. And we had actual real conversations about how relationships make you feel and about the weird nexus of desire and shame that can happen. 

Eventually I was like, “I think that’s everything I could tell you...anything else you wanted to know?”. And he goes quiet for a L O N G time and goes “is there anyone in [place where we live] that you have like a crush on?”. And I am rolling my eyes internally (and possibly externally) because EITHER this is the most obvious ploy to get me to say “oh it’s you!” that I’ve ever heard, or else he so TOTALLY doesn’t think of me that way that he’s not even counting himself as a possibility. So I just go ahead and say, “well, if you weren’t in a relationship I would want to date you” b/c I am not going to coyly misdirect. I’m watching the traffic b/c the highway is crowded so I don’t know what face he made but he says, “Thank you. I mean...yeah. I could see that happening. [pause] But what I meant was is there anyone you have just, like, an idle crush on?”. So then I feel kind of dumb because was that his way of letting me down gently? OR was it way of saying “yeah, what you’re talking about with us is more than an idle crush”?? One way makes me feel stupid for saying anything, and the other makes me feel like he pretty much just told me that we’d be dating if he weren’t with someone else - which is what I suspected but which I also thought it made me arrogant to think. (Or maybe it was just a way to not have to follow up on us both basically admitting that if things were different we’d be a couple.)

There was some other odd stuff, though none of it felt weird in a bad way just like it stuck out a little. (FYI, it was all in fun and not at all awkward - we are super comfortable together.) I was talking about how several times I’ve gotten together with guys for a short time who then went back to their long-term girlfriends and how one of my other friends said I was a “what if” girl; like “sure I have a girlfriend but what if I were with HER??”. And he was like, well yeah, that’s possible and a huge compliment b/c why not dream big? And then later said that clearly I could be a homewrecker if I ever wanted to be (though we both know I wouldn’t). He also told me about another girl who was his ex’s roommate who just started texting him again talking about how she’s unhappy in her relationship; he says they always had chemistry and that she’s reaching out b/c of that but that, obviously, he’s just playing dumb in the text messages and pretending that’s not what she’s doing. But, like, is he letting me know that other people like him? Why? Basically, I couldn’t get a handle on whether this conversation, whatever else it was, had a subtextual vibe of “I have doubts/questions about my current situation” or not.

Having typed it out, though, it sounds a bit like it does? And like they might involve me? Or that it’s just fully a “bad timing” kind of thing where we could date but obviously never will. Can we at least conclude that this is someone who is attracted to me?? It sounds like that, right?

I mean, it also sounds very silly and not appropriate to my age to be going over in such detail but, honestly, if it’s distracting me from cancer that’s kind of just good. Anyway, you are readers and writers of fic and consumers of literature so I appeal to you to let me know what YOU think is going on here...aside from the fact that no matter what I have a great pair of friends who I care very much about. I welcome the distraction....though if you could comment and not reblog that would be great. And thank you for reading this diary entry. ;)

[dovechim]

Dress Code (m)

➾ reader x CEO!jimin

➾ word count: 6.3k words

➾ warnings: incredibly filthy smut with no plot at all | cumplay | dirty talk | tit fucking | slight demeaning names/ name calling | face fucking | oral sex | unprotected sex

➾ summary: ceo!jimin takes it upon himself to discipline you when your attire doesn’t exactly adhere to HR regulations

➾ a/n: okay look this is just my excuse to write a ceo!jimin smut... i just felt like i owed him big time after what i did to him in instant gratification :”) i speed wrote this in a day and didn’t proofread whatsoever rip...

The clattering sounds of typing, clicking and pages flipping lull you into a state of lethargy as your eyes flutter half-shut in your cubicle. Having graduated as an arts major two years ago, you’d never imagine being holed up with a mundane 9-5 office job that had almost nothing to do with your major. But bills needed to be paid and rent had to come from somewhere, so you find yourself trudging to work soulessly every morning, day in day out.

“Hey, are you almost done with those files I gave you this morning?” The voice of your co-worker Mingyu in the next cubicle jolts you into awareness immediately.

“U-uhm not yet, I’m working on it as fast as possible,” you smile vacantly at him from where he peeks over the wall separating your cubicles.

“Remember, I need them by this evening latest,” Mingyu disappears back into his cubicle, and your vapid smile immediately disappears into a scowl.

“Jerk,” you mutter under your breath as you flip through the stack of files he’d left on your desk early this morning. The task he’s dumped on you is nothing but tedious, and while it doesn’t require any brain power, you can kiss your lunch break goodbye if you intend on meeting the deadline he set for you.

Which you don’t.

Every morning at 11am sharp, Joy from Finance always walks by your department and asks you to run through some numbers with her, which is really just a code for hiding out in the pantry room, and it always ends up in an early lunch break. Today is no exception and as you hear the click of her high heels approaching like clockwork, you close the topmost file in anticipation and start to swivel your chair to face her.

“_____, can I borrow you for a bit to run through some numbers with me?” Her bright, crimson red hair matches the grin on her face. She clutches a few thin files to her chest, ones that you know from experience to be blank folders containing nothing but meaningless statistics and important looking graphs just in case anyone decides to check.

“Of course,” you stand from your seat and smooth down the front of your pencil skirt, grabbing a calculator and a highlighter from your desk just for show as you follow her into the break room.

“Ugh, Mingyu is such a fucking asshole,” you toss the calculator onto the counter as Joy heads to the vending machine.

“Well duh, he’s like best buds with Jeongguk from Marketing. You know what they say about birds of a feather.” Joy grabs the paper cups of milk and black coffee dispensed and starts mixing it by pouring it back and forth. “Remember our last company dinner and dance?”

You take one of the cups from her, sipping the milky liquid gratefully. The acrid, disgusting brew of machine dispensed coffee is improved by leaps and bounds with the addition of milk. In fact, this was how you’d met Joy on your first day, struggling through a cup of black coffee in order to keep yourself awake. Joy had pressed the button for milk accidentally, and upon witnessing your grimace and offended expression as you stared into your cup, asked if you liked milk with your coffee.

She’d been your lifeline in this dreary place ever since.

“Ugh, don’t remind me, it was practically an overgrown frat boy party. I still can’t believe Yugyeom from Accounts took off his shirt. In the middle of a 7 course dinner.” 

Joy giggles so hard that her coffee nearly sloshes over her paper cup. “Oh, I can, and I have video evidence to prove it. Mhhm, steak wasn’t the only thing on the menu that night…”

“You’re disgusting,” you shoot back at her without any real malice in your voice.

She tilts her head to get at the last few drops of coffee in her cup. “Well, you know what they say. If you can’t fuck the CEO, fuck his minions instead.” 

“Park Jimin? I don’t know, he looks like he’d have a tiny dick-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Joy’s eyes widen in surprise. “I mean, sure he isn’t winning in the height department, but have you seen how thick those thighs are? God I’d die happy if I could be choked to death by them. And his fingers- you know what they say about men with thick fingers… damn if he isn’t the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever-”

The door to the pantry opens suddenly and the intrusion stops Joy mid rant. The two of you glance over to the interruption like a deer in the headlights. The person in question takes in the scene of your little gossip fest with his light grey eyes, and his razor sharp features are impossible to read. His crisply pressed white dress shirt fits over his chest nicely, tucked into his tailored black dress pants that elongate his legs and accentuates the muscles of his thighs.

“Mr- Sajang-nim!! Good morning Sajang-nim!” Joy squeaks out beside you.

Park Jimin runs a hand through the hair that parts neatly in the middle of his forehead, drawing your attention to the veins that wrap around his forearms like vines, exposed by the buttoned up sleeves of his white shirt. “Good morning ladies, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” 

The slight smirk on his pillowy, velvet lips makes your cheeks heat up.

“U-um, no of course not, _____ and I were just running through some numbers,” Joy covers up smoothly, and heads toward the bin in the corner to dispose of her paper cup. “I’ll be getting back to work now, Mr Park.” 

Her words stir you into action and you start to follow Joy. “Me too, have a good day Mr Park.”

“_____, I need to speak to you about something,” Park Jimin takes a step closer towards you, and you watch in vain as Joy escapes out the pantry door. The path to the door is now blocked by his broad figure, and you feel more trapped than ever as he stalks closer and closer, his predatory eyes wandering up and down your body. The room feels a few degrees hotter as his eyes linger on the sinful curve of your hips, hugged tightly by your pencil skirt.

“Y-yes Mr Park?” 

Jimin’s eyes scan over the scattered documents and papers on the counter, the fake ones that you and Joy use as an excuse. “Going over some numbers, I see. Can you give me a brief update on what you were discussing just now?”

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it all to hell.

“Of-of course Mr Park. Um, we were just discussing the quarterly sales target for the past annum- and we agreed that there was some… logistical assessment needed. It would be best to do a valid risk assessment of the market and um… compile it all into a spreadsheet!”

He raises his eyebrows as he scrutinizes the data in front of him. When he looks back up at you with a teasing smirk on those plush lips of his, you know you’ve been caught in your lie. But he doesn’t let up and instead nods in what seems like approval.

“Interesting. I would love to know the results of your analysis, bring that spreadsheet to me when you’re done with it will you?”

You’re doomed. You should just cut your losses and tell him the truth, and beg on your knees for skiving off like this. And return tomorrow morning with your resignation letter so you can get a headstart on job hunting, again. But before you have time to blurt out your apologies, Jimin clears his throat. 

“I’ll see you in my office at 6pm then, Ms _____.”

* 

The office is slowly emptying out as the end of the workday draws nearer and nearer. Mingyu waves you a jolly goodbye with a tap on your cubicle wall, but not without a reminder to have the files on his desk by the next morning.

Jerkwad. You’ll give him his files alright, but not without a huge pile of- 

Your desk phone interrupts your thoughts with a shrill screech.

“_____, I’d like to have that spreadsheet please.” Park Jimin’s smooth voice sounds in your ear immediately once you hold the receiver to your ear.

“Right away sir.” With a dreading feeling at the pit of your stomach, you get up reluctantly and grab the files Mingyu gave you, just so you have something to hold as you knock on his heavy oakwood door tentatively. 

“Come in.”

When you enter his office, the first thing you see is Park Jimin at his desk, the top few buttons of his shirt undone and his tie askew. His hair looks a little disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it all day. His desktop is covered in a mess of papers and documents, and he looks up from the file he’s reading with a pensive frown that turns into a pleased smirk.

“Sit down, Ms _____. I believe you have that spreadsheet for me?”

That’s it, time to dig out the past few weeks’ worth of classified ads and switch back to cup ramen and boxed mac and cheese.

But Jimin spots Mingyu’s files clutched to your chest and gestures to it. “Place it on my desk please. Oh and before you go, one more thing.”

“W-what? Oh, um here it is.” You hesitate for a second, before placing the file gingerly in front of him. 

“There have been some complaints from Human Resource about your attire lately.” 

Oh god. It must have been Bae Joohyun from HR, the most conservative below 30 woman in the entire office who ratted you out for wearing that transparent see through blouse that one time. It was only for the after office happy hour, and it was a god damn Friday too.

“I’m sorry Mr Park, I’ll pay more attention to my outfits in the future.” Please don’t fire me, you plead silently.

“I’m afraid that won’t do,” Park Jimin tsks and shakes his head slowly. He scratches his chin and nibbles on his bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes roaming lusciously up and down your figure in front of him. “In fact, the complaint was so severe that I had to get involved myself.”

He stands from behind his desk, stalking around to the front of his desk to position himself by your side, his pewter grey eyes alight with mischief.

“I think I’m going to have to measure your skirt, _____. And my standards are… stringent. If your skirt is more than three inches off the ground when you’re kneeling, disciplinary measures will be taken.”

The tone of his voice sets off a tremor that begins in the pit of your stomach, and your legs grow weak. Just the thought of being on your knees for Park Jimin, as he measures your skirt, makes your throat dry.

“Y-yes sir. Of course sir.” You slowly lower yourself to the ground, your skin tight pencil skirt making it hard for you to kneel as the material stretches tightly around your ass and rides up to above mid-thigh. Which leaves you on your knees as Park Jimin stands in front of you, and you’re face to face with the crotch of his dress pants.

“Well well,” he smirks as his eyes are fixated on the hem of your skirt where it stops on your thighs. “Maybe I don’t need a ruler after all.”

Instead he crouches down so that he can reach the hem of your skirt, and with the width of his hand, measures from where your knee touches the rough carpeting of the floor. The warmth of his hand sends desire racing through your veins, and he slides his palm from your kneecap past the hem of your skirt to your inner thigh, gliding under it so that it’s dangerously close to where you want him to be.

He stops just shy of the juncture between your thighs.

“This skirt is inappropriate for work. Looks like I’ll have to punish you, ____.”

He withdraws his hand from your thigh, leaving you cold and empty without his smoldering touch as he stands to his full height once more. As he straightens his posture, from your position on the floor, the tent in his dress pants is painfully obvious.

“Well? If you’re willing to be such a slut and wear these tiny skirts around the office, I’m sure you know what to do next.” His tone is no-nonsense as he smirks at you from his position above, and immediately your hands find purchase on the front of his slacks. “Take me out, sweetheart.”

Your hands fumble with the buckle at the front of his pants, impeded by the bulge as you try to drag his zipper down. Jimin sighs with relief as the tension of his erection is released when you reach in and circle him with one hand, savouring his warmth as you pull him out.

His head is already dark red, and you manage to catch the bead of precum that weeps from it with your tongue. The sensation of your tongue on his head makes him throw his head back and a whine originates deep in his throat, a sound that makes your panties deliciously sticky.

“Don’t tease sweetheart, let me see how well you take cock.”

You oblige him by closing your mouth over him, the salty taste of him on your tongue. Being careful of your teeth, you flatten your tongue and allow him to slide in deeper, relishing the weight of his thick length and how he fills your mouth so fully. Park Jimin reaches for the back of your head and pushes your head down so that you’re halfway down his cock.

“Fuck, I knew you’d take my cock so well.” He drags you off his dick, and you gasp for air. “Take a deep breath sweetheart, before I fuck that pretty throat.” 

He rests his cock on the tip of your tongue for a second before sliding in deep, filling your throat until tears spring to your eyes, and your gag reflex kicks in. As he thrusts in and out of your mouth, the sound of gagging and spit resounds in the room, a filthy sound that makes your core ache for relief.

“You sound so good gagging on my cock, your throat is so tight, I can only imagine what that pussy will feel like around me.”

Your saliva is all over your chin and tears are staining your cheeks, ruining your makeup as he fucks your throat mercilessly. As he presses your nose into his lower abdomen, you can’t control your gagging and the noises emanating from you, but it only makes Park Jimin moan and thrust his hips for more.

He pauses and withdraws from the warmth of your mouth, tapping his cock on your cheek and leaving behind a messy trail of his precum and your own spit. “You okay sweetheart?”

Your throat is fucked raw now, but you nod eagerly. “Yes sir.” 

“Then you’ll let me cum on your pretty face right? Cover every inch of you with my cum, and let it dry on your skin as you go home? Let everyone see how much of a cumslut you are?”

“Yes sir, I deserve it, for wearing such a short skirt.”

Park Jimin smirks in satisfaction. “Good girl, now open wide.”

His cock rams its way deep into your throat, and you gag violently, fighting to regulate your breathing through your nose. Spit trails from his dick down your chin, and it’s the messiest blowjob you’ve ever given, but also the hottest. Park Jimin’s thrusts are increasingly harsh, and his whines indicate that he’s close to blowing his load. 

“Fuck, gonna cum all over your face,” he pulls out and grabs himself, stroking up and down his sticky length desperately. Strings of white hot cum from his head land on your face, some of it ending up in your hair and others dripping down from your fake eyelashes and dribbling down your chin.

“What a sight, sweetheart,” he runs the tip of his cock through the mess he’s made on your face, swirling his cum around on your cheeks and pushing it into your mouth. You give him a few kitten licks before he pulls out with a moan, tapping his dick on your cum covered chin a few times before tucking himself back into his pants.

“You did so well, sweetheart, and I believe good girls should be rewarded. Get on my desk.”

You scramble to your feet, careful not to let his cum drip from your face as you place your ass on his desk, on top of Mingyu’s files. Park Jimin positions himself between your spread legs as he kneels down, sliding his hands up your thighs and pushing your skirt above your hips. He rubs a thumb over the ruined lace of your panties, soaked through and wipes it on your inner thigh.

“So wet from sucking my cock?” He slides them off your legs, watching as strings of your arousal detach from your panties. “Spread those legs wide for me as I eat that pretty cunt.”

You do as he says and your thighs are obscenely spread on his work desk as his head nears your aching core. By now your arousal has gathered and spills onto the files beneath you, but you’re too caught up in the need to cum to notice. 

He starts with sucking your lips gently, sending electric shocks through your entire core as your hips buck desperately, and your juices leak out of your slit. In response Jimin chuckles and laps up your juices as they stain his chin, before laving your clit with a few flat licks that has you sobbing for more.

Jimin suckles your clit between his plush, velvet lips, and cushioned between them, he tortures you as he licks and sucks you raw. He brings two fingers to your slit and caresses you gently before plunging them into you, filling you up nicely.

“You’re so fucking wet, looks like my cock will just slide right in hmm?” 

You can only writhe in response as his tongue flicks at your clit. “Jimin, oh my god, I need more.”

“You need more? Hmm, I think so too,” Jimin withdraws his fingers, and sucks them clean before gliding them through the globs of half dried cum on your cheek. He gathers a good amount of the thick white semen on his fingertips before returning to your clit, rubbing in circles that drives you crazy.

Park Jimin makes sure to rub every last bit of his cum into your clit, trailing what remains of it down to your slit and sheathing his wonderfully thick fingers in your heat. His tongue returns to its place lapping at your clit, teasing it between his lips, and you glance down to see strands of his own translucent cum lingering on his lips, and the sight alone makes you tighten around his fingers.

“Jimin, I’m so close, right there please,” your voice trails off into a whiny moan, and Jimin obliges.

He abandons the use of this tongue to suck directly at your clit, and with a few more thrusts of his fingers, he sends you over the edge and you clench tightly around his fingers, swept away by the waves of pleasure and euphoria. Jimin helps you ride out your orgasm with thrusting fingers, until you grow too sensitive and start to close your legs.

“You okay, _____?” There’s genuine concern on his face as he helps you down from the desk, righting your skirt and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I’m okay sir.” You wrinkle your nose in discomfort at the feeling of his drying cum on your face, and attempt to tame your wild, sex-crazed hair, imagining how horrible you must look.

“You look so good with my cum on your face. 

His statement immediately makes all the discomfort disappear. 

“Come on, I’ll drive you home. And you’re not allowed to wipe that cum off till you reach home.”

*

Joy will never let you hear the end of this if she knew.

But if she does know about this, half of the office will too by lunchtime, and there goes your job.  After Jimin dropped you off at your house last night with a reminder not to wipe his cum off until you were home, he also reminded you about violating the dress code. 

“One more time and you’ll get a warning,” he’d said just before sending you a smirk and driving off.

Which is why you’d dug out the most modest pair of slacks from the back of your closet, ones that make you look about ten years older, ones that even Bae Joohyun would approve of. But they are uncomfortable as hell, and you spend the entire morning fidgeting in your seat, not used to this much fabric around your legs.

Mingyu glides into work about an hour late, and slides into the cubicle next to you. 

“____, did you have those files done already?”

“Yeah, they’re on your desk beside the account opening forms,” you smile sweetly at him before returning back to your work.

“Thanks, ______- wait, why are they all wet?”

“Oh, I was rushing to finish them late last night and may have spilled something on it…”

You’re cut off by the sounds of his grumbles as he reaches for some tissues to clean it up, but to no avail.

At 11am, you start to wrap up the account closure that you’re processing, clicking save on your computer before pushing yourself back from your desk. You start to turn your head around when you hear Joy’s telltale click of shoes sounding from the Finance department, but another voice sounds instead of hers.

“______, are you free you go through some numbers with me?”

It’s Park Jimin.

Park Jimin strolls casually by your aisle with his hands tucked into his pockets, his relaxed demeanor evident in the gentle smile on his face as he greets your overeager colleagues. His grey hair is swept back off his forehead with gel, and his light, dove grey eyes are striking as he stops behind your cubicle, and takes in the sight of your clothed legs under your desk. 

Joy hesitates awkwardly a few steps behind Park Jimin, shock etched upon her features. Fuck, how did he know about your code?

“Um, of course sir, right now?”

“In my office please,” Jimin turns and heads in the direction of his office, leaving you staring at his deliciously plump ass that strains his dress pants just right.

You gesture at Joy to retreat for now, and she nods with wide eyes.

“It’s me, Mr Park.” You enter his office only to see him reclining in his chair, eyes firmly on the door. 

“_____, I’m disappointed in you, I thought I warned you last night.”

“Wh-what are you…?” Confusion fills your voice, and you rush to defend yourself. “This isn’t violating the dress code, I even ran it by Bae Joohyun from Human Resource this morning and she-” 

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about that dress code.” His voice is suddenly a few octaves lower in a drawling satoori that makes your heart skip a beat. “No, this won’t do at all, how am I going to bend you over this desk if you’re wearing pants?” 

“I- I’m sorry sir,” you whisper in a small voice.

“Strip, now.”

His commanding tone makes your breath catch in your throat. Strip in the middle of his office, where anyone could just walk in?

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I won’t let just anyone see what a dirty girl you are,” he reassures you with a nod to the door. “The door is locked.”

Your hands wander to the buttons on your blouse and you begin undoing them, slipping the sleeves off until you’re clad in your baby pink bra. Then you unbutton the front of your pants and slide them off your legs, kicking them off till you’re left standing in your matching lace underwear.

Jimin’s eyes rake over your figure greedily. “Pink? What an innocent girl you pretend to be, when you get off on just sucking your boss’s dick. Come here.”

You approach him, and he motions for you to kneel in front of him and take your bra off. You reach behind you to undo the clasps, watching as his eyes ogle your full chest as you drop the bra on the ground next to you.

“Here’s what I’m going to do to you sweetheart, listen carefully. You’re going to spit on my dick, and then I’ll fuck those pretty tits of yours. Has anyone ever tit-fucked you before?”

“No sir,” you swallow hard as he begins to unbuckle his belt again, slipping his cock out and stroking himself to full hardness.

“I’m glad to hear it, now get over here and gag on my cock like you did yesterday. Get me all wet to fuck those gorgeous tits.” He digs his hands into your hair and pulls you closer, and you gladly close your mouth over him.

Jimin pushes deep enough to activate the thick saliva that originates at the back of your throat, and thrusts deeply a few times before pulling you off. You gasp and pant, drooling messily on the length of his cock and watching as he coats his length meticulously with your spit.

“Good girl, now hold those tits together and let me fuck them.”

You straighten your posture and push your breasts together, forming a tight valley for him to slide through. Jimin positions himself at the bottom of your breasts before pushing up, parting the globes of your flesh with the help of your spit as lubricant, and emerging through your cleavage. You glance down to see the pink tip of his cock pushing through your breasts, covered in spit and moan as he starts to fuck you harder. 

“These feel like heaven, fuck, clench tighter for me sweetheart, that’s it.”

His cock is leaking precum as well, and it all ends up on your chest as it drips down over your nipples. Park Jimin seems to get off on making as much of a mess of you as possible, but you’d never realized that you’re turned on by it too.

His pants are growing louder and more desperate as he works his cock between your breasts. “You have the best tits in this whole damn company, ahhhh I’ll come so soon. But I don’t want to cum on these tits.”

Jimin gives a few more thrusts between your breasts and stops, his chest heaving from arousal and the need to blow his load somewhere on your body. “Stand up, sweetheart.”

You obey him immediately, and he gets to his feet as well, hand leisurely stroking his length as his eyes wander down to your sweet pink lace panties. You can almost see the idea forming in his mind as he reaches for the waistband and pulls it towards him so that he can peer down into your sticky panties and see your pussy. He maneuvers the head of his cock just inside your panties so that its aimed at your cunt directly.

“Jerk me off sweetheart, make me cum in those cute little panties of yours. Then you’ll walk around all day with your cunt soaked in my cum and try not to let anyone else notice hmmm?”

God, he is so damn filthy but you love it. You reach and close your hand around his cock with its head in your underwear, and start to jerk him with short strokes. You swipe at his swollen head a few times, and he jerks his hips in response, swallowing hard as his lips attach to your neck, licking and sucking dark blue violets as he moans needily into your skin.

“Fuck fuck, gonna come in these pretty panties, ahhhh fuck!”

Jimin blows his load right into the crotch of your underwear, and his sticky cum soaks through the lace almost immediately. You pump and milk him for the last few spurts of semen, and he slumps against you for a bit as he empties his balls into your panties.

The feeling of his cum swishing around in your panties makes everything so much wetter and stickier, and Jimin reaches to cup your crotch, making the lace of your underwear stick to your skin with his cum, and presses, so that his cum soaks its way in between your cunt lips.

Jimin wearily zips himself back up and grabs a few tissues off a box on his desk to wipe off your chest. He gathers your articles of clothing to help you back into them, and the atmosphere in between verges on awkwardness. 

“Um, I-I’ll just be going now Mr Park,” you head for the door, wincing as you feel his cum against your skin. 

“Don’t forget, there’s a meeting after lunch. And you’re not allowed to clean up.”

*

Joy grabs you on your way to the meeting room.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened? What did he say?” Her voice is hushed and lowered, but with a sense of panic.

“I’m okay Joy,” you squeeze her hand tightly in yours. “He just really needed to go through some numbers.”

“Oh thank god. But I still think we need to change our code… red for the low, unachieved sales target,” Joy hurriedly tacks on as Jeongguk from Marketing breezes past you into the meeting room.

Glancing at the still empty seat at the head of the table, you opt for the seat that’s furthest away from it, wincing as the cum swirls around in your underwear as you sit. Joy takes the seat beside you, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when Mingyu slides in beside you and makes meme faces at Jeongguk who’s across the table from him, who in turn giggles with Yugyeom beside him.

And you actually do roll your eyes, turning in your seat away from them and praying that they don’t smell the cum in your panties.

Park Jimin strolls in after a few minutes, and the room hushes in silence as he takes his seat and clears his throat, reading off the agenda for today.

Throughout the entire meeting, you can’t help but squirm in your seat; painfully aware of the smell of cum from your own crotch. But the people around you don’t seem to notice it, thankfully, and you spot Jimin’s eyes wandering to your end of the table every now and then as the various departmental heads give their reports. To distract yourself from how uncomfortable you are, you resort to doodling random pictures and playing tic tac toe with Joy beside you to while the time away. 

“And Ms_____, what do you think?”

Your pen skids across the page of your notebook.

“S-sorry, could you run that by me again?” 

Hushed chuckles sound from around the table.

Park Jimin clears his throat. “As mentioned, sales have not been on par recently, and we’re trying to come up with ways to improve it. Do you have any suggestions?” 

“Um, maybe an operational review of each department’s efficiency and productivity levels?” You stutter an answer off the top of your head, and relief fills your chest when heads nod and people are taking down notes. 

The rest of the meeting passes in a blur as you try and sink down lower in your seat to disappear entirely.

“Alright, seems like we’re heading in a clear direction since we’re all on the same page, good work everyone. Have a nice weekend,” Park Jimin nods at the room and everyone begins to stand and trickle out of the room. 

You shoot to your feet, surreptitiously checking your seat for any stains left behind when Jimin calls out to you. 

“_____, just a moment please.”

Dread weighs your chest down as the room empties out, and the last of Jeongguk’s boisterous laughter fades down the hallways. Joy looks as if she’s leaving a limb behind as she’s swept out of the room with the rest of your colleagues. As the last person leaves the room with the door closed behind them, you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry Mr Park, it’s just, I was trying not to let anyone smell… it. I was paying attention the rest of the time, I swear!”

 “I know sweetheart, don’t worry, you did a great job.” His full cheeks round out in a grin as he sits on the desk beside you, cupping your cheek fondly. “Did you follow instructions like a good girl? Or do I have to check for myself?” 

“Y-yes I did, Mr Park. I didn’t clean up.”

“Good girl, but I’d like to take a look for myself.” He pushes himself off the desk to kneel at your feet, and undoes the button of your pants with a flick of his thumb and pulling them down to reveal your cum soaked underwear.

Jimin’s fingers slip under the waistband to tug your panties down until they’re mid-thigh so that he can peer at the globs of cum that sit in the crotch. His eyes trail up to your drenched cunt lips.

“Your cunt smells so good covered in my cum,” he runs his fingers up and down your inner thighs, and you shiver in desire. “What a naughty girl you are, sitting through a meeting with your boss’s cum in your panties, soaking your dirty little cunt.”

Jimin spreads your lips with his fingers to reveal your clit, and the strings of his semen that connect the lips. His tongue darts out to break the strings and he makes eye contact with you as he licks your slit once more, gathering the white substance on his tongue as he tastes himself on your pussy. 

“You’ve done so well keeping my cum on you, now don’t you think it’s only right that I clean you up with my tongue?”

“Jimin, please,” you reach for the silky strands of his grey hair and entangle them between your fingertips. 

“Ask and you shall receive.” He rewards you with a broad lick to your clit, and with lapping licks starts to clean up the mess he made earlier.

The rough, flat surface of his tongue stimulates your clit just right, and the unsatisfied throbbing in your core from earlier this morning is renewed. Jimin slides his hands under your thighs and hooks them over his shoulders so that he can properly bury his face into your pussy, not caring if his face is smeared with your juices and his cum in the process. He slurps messily at your slit even as his nose rubs your clit, and you’re so, so close to tumbling off that edge-

“There you go sweetheart, all clean.” Jimin smirks up at you, withdrawing his tongue as he inspects your cum free pussy. When you whine in response, he chuckles. “Oops, that was rather rude of me wasn’t it?”

Heat burns in your centre so unbearably, and your clit throbs with the need for attention. “Ji- Mr Park, please make me cum, I’ve been so wet since you fucked my tits this morning.”

“Tsk, do you kiss your mother with that dirty mouth of yours? Maybe I should fuck your mouth again hmmm? Or should I fuck that pussy of yours and get it all filthy again?” 

“My pussy please,” you gasp as he teasingly thumbs your clit. “Wanna feel your cock.”

“Since you’ve been such a good girl today, I think you deserve my cock. But you’re going to have to be quiet, understand?” Jimin strokes the curve of your waist gently as he urges you up onto the table.

“Yes sir.” And with that, he slides home into your cunt, and you both moan when he bottoms out inside you.

“I knew your cunt would be so tight, fuck you’re amazing baby.” He slides out till the tip is left inside you only to slam back in. He fills you up so well and you clench hard around him, already close to the edge after having him eat you out.

“Jimin, I’m so close,” you clutch his shoulders as his body spreads your legs further apart, and you hook your legs around him to draw him in closer.

“I won’t last long either sweetheart, go ahead and rub that clit nice and slow for me.”

You do as he says, and your walls start to close around him as he increases the speed of his thrusts, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth as his high draws near as well. Your orgasm starts first, white hot pleasure that engulfs every nerve of yours as you struggle to contain your moans in the crook of his neck, feeling sweat break out on the back of his neck as he groans into your chest. You’re incoherent and there’s nothing but the sound of his name in your ears as he gives few harsh thrusts into your battered pussy as he comes inside you, his thick seed coating your walls that are still pulsing around him.

As he pulls out, you feel him start to trickle out of you again, but by now the feeling of his cum on your skin turns you on even more. Jimin pulls back to admire the sight of your used pussy in satisfaction as he runs his fingers up your inner thighs to gather the substance back into your cunt.

“I think you should take the rest of the day off, sweetheart.”

[ninaahelvar]

Through Thin Walls (1/2)

Summary: Roxy was originally annoyed at her obnoxious neighbour that she never met, but when they start a friendship through their thin walls, things become more interesting than she first thought.

AO3 

A/N: This was a prompt by the amazing @gipsysworld and tbh I fell in love with it so I had to write it! Hope you all enjoy the first part as much as I do.

The music started three months ago. It was tough, with a blaring beat and a slur of words that had to filter through the wall. Roxy’s neighbour had moved in almost six months ago, but the music was something new she had learned. He talked loudly with his friends. And he enjoyed music far too loudly at three in the morning. Roxy had a class tomorrow morning that she had to teach, and she wasn’t in the mood for this.

Her pillow curling around her head doing nothing, she rose up in her bed, staring at the beige wall of her apartment, the other side a carnival of noise. Her fist bound, she hammered against the wall, the ache going right up her forearm, yet the music still blared on the other side. Huffing, she banged again, knowing she’d have to shout this time. “Will you shut it! Not everyone can stay up ‘til three in the morning!” she yelled. Pressing her ear to the wall, to her surprise, she heard a low grumbled laugh.

“If you want to hear me fuck, be my guest,” he replied, a ridiculous and annoyingly cute laugh followed.

“You’re being a twat! Turn it off!” she shouted. When the music stopped, she settled back into bed, before hearing the hushed and eager moans of a woman, the soft banging of a headboard against her wall. Covering her mouth, Roxy squeaked, banging back on the wall. “Oh god! Turn it on!” she begged. She heard her neighbour chuckle again, the music back on, but softer this time. The moans were muffled and it only sounded like a soft tap as the bedframe hit against the wall.

Oddly enough, the rhythm took Roxy to sleep rather easily. She’d never admit to that.  

Waking up with only a few hours of sleep, she gathered her books, putting them in her bag as her coffee brewed. She realised that she was the one making the noise now, but she was running a little late. Putting the coffee in a thermos, Roxy curled her hair into a bun, jabbing one of those long metal clips through it. Jumping into her skin tight pencil skirt and tucking in her blouse, she was ready to rush out the door.

Fumbling for her keys in her bag, her front door shut, she noticed the little note taped to her door. Her keys in hand now, she took the folded note from the door, reading it before chuckling to herself.

‘Sorry about last night. I’ll try and keep off the loud music from now on. - E’

She looked at her neighbour's door, not knowing when he put the note there, but could tell this was something the fool would do. Locking her door, she put her keys away and found a pen. On the other side of the note, Roxy scribbled out a reply.

‘Just make sure it isn’t past ten. Other than that, blare away. - R’

Biting at her lip, she taped the note to his door, her phone sparking her back into what she was meant to be doing. She rushed down the hallway, making her way down the three flights of stairs, rushing off to the nearest station to try and make her train. She just managed to get on, squashed between two rather large men and a child pressed behind her legs by a mother.

No matter how much work she had to do, and the classes she had to teach, a moment to herself was captivated by her stupid neighbour. Maybe it was because he was damn cocky about all of this, or how she willingly wrote him a note back. She didn’t have to be polite to him, she had every right to be mad at him for more than a few days, but, he somehow made it so easy for her to smile at that stupid note.

Her lessons ran smoothly, a few misbehaviours, but that was to be expected with children. When Roxy was marking the homework however, she was surprised when she noticed one of her brightest students had consistently not finished her homework, always almost complete. Glancing over to her, the blonde little girl with a smile that was a sparkle of greatness. When the groups split into crafts, to give Roxy the chance to talk to some students one on one.

Roxy knelt down next to Daisy’s chair, smiling as she watched the girl draw a picture of her family. Herself, her mother, and a man standing next to Daisy. Roxy smiled at the picture before whispering to Daisy. “Your homework is incomplete Daisy. Is everything okay? You get some of it done, sweetie, but not all of it,” Roxy questioned.

“Miss Morton, I...I,” Daisy stuttered, the verge of tears sprinkling at the corner of her eyes, an unexpected response. Roxy rubbed at her back before standing and pointing to the door of the classroom.

“Sweetie, come on,” she gestured, taking them both out of the classroom and just outside the door. Roxy knelt back down, watching as Daisy rubbed at her eyes to clean them. “You’re not in trouble. I just want to know why you’re doing very well in your homework, but you don’t complete it,” she asked.

“I stay with my brother some days and my mum the others. I don’t get much done when I’m with my brother,” Daisy explained, still drying her tears. Roxy reached up, wiping away the small drops from her eyes and smiling to the scared little girl.

“Does he not want to help you?”

Daisy shrugged. “We play when he takes care of me. I don’t want to do work.”

“Well, how about this. Whenever you’re with your brother, start with your homework together before you play. Knowing you, you’ll get it done in no time,” Roxy negotiated. Daisy nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Ok,” she replied simply.

“Alright. Let’s go back to the crafts, okay, sweetie?” Roxy smiled again and took them both back inside the classroom. The rest of the day went faster, lessons going easily enough as most of the student had the topics under their belts and could answer all the questions set to them. Letting her hair down on the train trip home, she read over some note for her class the next day. Able to sit down and go through everything gave her a chance to get things out of the way so she could just relax when she got home. When she arrived at her apartment, she found that the note was missing from her neighbour’s door and she smiled. Perfectly content with her day, she collapsed on her bed, put on hr netflix and fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon.

A week passed before Roxy felt the need to interact with her neighbour again. Thursday night and he was playing music again. She was going through some end of the week homework as he played whatever he liked. After this one song played, Roxy couldn’t get the beat out of her head, making it impossible to focus on the new music and the work she was doing.

Getting up from her chair, Roxy walked across her room, bounding her fist and knocking against the wall, tough but not as demanding as other time she knocked. Roxy waited a moment, and the music shut off, the sound of footsteps came over to the wall. “Do you need me to turn it down again?” he asked, his voice clearer than before, as though he was right up against the wall like she was. Nervously, rising on her toes, she replied.

“No.” Roxy cleared her throat, tracing a pattern into the wall. “Uhhh, what was that song you played before?” she asked, biting her lip. He chuckled on the other side.

“Gotta be a little more specific than that, love,” he said and Roxy laughed. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the combination of an awkward conversation and being nervous, but she oddly loved the feeling.

“It was more of a guitar at first and the beat kicked in a little,” she explained it as best she could. Her neighbour made a noise before his footsteps trailed away, then, music started it.

“This it?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s it!” Roxy squeaked, jumping up and down.

“Rudimental and James Arthur, Sun Comes Up,” he confirmed.

“Ah! Thank you!” She ended up jumping up in glee again, so pleased with knowing a song. As Roxy was going back to her laptop, she heard him clear his throat on the other side of the wall. She stopped.

“I’m Eggsy, by the way,” he told her.

“Eggy?”

“Eggsy,” he corrected in a laugh. Roxy considered it for a moment, her foot going behind her other ankle, rubbing it up and down as she bit at her lip.

“Roxanne. But people call me Roxy,” she replied, biting her nail, tracing his name into the wall.

“Good to know,” he replied. And that was it, they both went back to their own things, Roxy put on her headphones and listened to the song over and over again. She got through it all done in a matter of an hour or so, and by the time she was going to thank Eggsy again, there was no noise coming from his apartment, and she didn’t want to risk waking him.

On sunday morning, going through some grading, she was desperately in need for a coffee. When she was about to brew her coffee, she found the near to empty milk carton in her fridge. She huffed in frustration, searching the rest of the fridge for any more milk to no avail.

“If I didn’t know any better, someone has been drinking all my goddamn milk,” Roxy cursed loudly, shutting her fridge door with a loud bang. Throughout the day, she heard Eggsy on the phone, coming and going from his apartment, some conversations in angered tones, others in nervous frustration. He had a job interview the next day, and the person on the other end was trying to reassure Eggsy but it only seemed to irritate him.

Later on in the day, very unexpectedly, Roxy got a knock to her front door. She packed up some of her things, pushing some of the grades underneath each other, to note which were marked and the ones that weren’t. Opening it, there was no one around, until she looked down - a glass of milk sat on her doormat with a note attached to it.

Heading inside, transferring the milk from the one glass to one of her own, rinsing out the foreign glass and finally reading the post-it-note that had familiar writing on it.

‘Ask for a cup of sugar next time. I’m running low on milk too - E’

Roxy laughed, replying on the other side of the note, rereading the note.

‘Thank you. Too good to a stranger, you are - R’

Sticking the note back on the glass and returning it to the foot of Eggsy’s door, she knocked a few times before going back to her apartment, finally able to make herself a nice mug of coffee. It managed to do the trick, because she got all her work done that night which was a surprise for her but god, was it all welcome. That night, she decided to do something nice for once - she found her post-it-notes, scribbled something on the top one and waited for morning to come to stick it there.

Before heading down the stairs of her apartment complex, she stuck the fresh post-it-note on Eggsy’s door. She reread it, sighing at it and wondered if it would be enough.

‘Good luck at your job interview’

Maybe.

She’d have to wait to find out.

It wasn’t until later on in the week that her question was answered. A few rapid knocks came to Roxy’s wall, which spooked her in a tight squeak, pausing her TV. “Oh!” she peeped and there was a laugh on the other side of the wall.

“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked. Roxy settled back into her bed, resting up in her bed and her head resting against the wall.

“Just my Friends rewatch,” she replied, her knees coming up and her arms wrapping around them.

“What episode?” he asked eagerly.

“The one with Chandler in a box.”

“Great episode.”

“What’s up?”

He took a moment to reply. “I got the job,” he said, bashful in tone.

“Really?” Roxy almost jumped up out of her bed, prompting up on her knees, hands pressed against the wall.

“Yeah, walked in with a surge of confidence, like someone was cheering me on. Don’t know why,” Eggsy’s voice was closer than before, but still just as excited as hers. He was being playful with her, a playful nature that she found so comforting.

“I’m happy you did. I heard you talking on the phone, it sounded like you wanted it,” she replied, settling back into bed, biting at her nail; a common factor whenever she talked to Eggsy.

“I did. And I was talking to my mum by the way,” he explained quickly. “She’s been pestering me about getting a better job for a while now.”

“Well you best call her or something,” Roxy said, licking at her lips.

“You’re right. You’re the first person I told,” he chuckled, a soft thud of his head probably falling against the wall.

“Well, aren’t I just special,” Roxy laughed, biting her lip.

“You are and you know it,” he replied in that same cheeky and flirty tone that made Roxy feel lighter than air.

Eggsy and Roxy ended up having very conflicting schedules, she’d work during the day, and he’d work nights during the week. They’d have brief conversations as Roxy collapses back into her bed and Eggsy is getting dressed for his own shift. If they hear about any other neighbours with gossip, they share it, but they know for a fact that they’re both a topic of conversation for most of the other neighbours now.

They ended up talking between a wall for nearly three months, both enjoying each other’s company, and when weekends came around, just being able to vent or talk to someone else that isn’t family and with no obligations to really care in case of advice. But it ended up there; when Eggsy came home frustrated with people he’s working with or when Roxy was dealing with sexist idiots at work, they both made sure the other calmed down before advice was given. Roxy knew it was more than just neighbours...or even friends.

A Saturday night came around, and as she was readying to put on her TV shows for the night, she heard the door next door shut, soft giggles of a couple clammering through the apartment. Knocking things over, giggles interrupted by moans and the soft sounds of lips parting. Roxy turned on her TV quickly, unsure of how else to take the moment. It wasn’t as though Roxy thought they were going to get together, but something still hurt about all of this.

“Hey, can you keep your voice down. My neighbour and I have the thinnest walls,” Eggsy tried to say in a quiet voice, but Roxy still heard it.

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” the woman replied. Roxy scoffed.

“I do actually. Just make sure I don’t hear Eggsy’s name every few seconds, he doesn’t need that kind of ego,” she quipped, shaking her head at the whole thing.

“You wound me, Rox,” Eggsy joked. Roxy turned the volume up on her TV.

After hearing the soft pants and squeaking moans from the woman, Roxy expected that she may need to go to a different room of her apartment to avoid the high intensity stuff. When she was gathering up her coffee mug and the food scattered on her bedside table, she was surprised when Roxy heard the woman huff out in frustration. Roxy relaxed back into her bed, way too invested in this - the only time she’d ever indulge herself in eavesdropping.

“Come on, Eggsy, we were having fun,” the woman complained.

“I’m not feeling it,” he cleared his throat. Their was a squeak coming from the mattress of his bed as people shifted on and off it. “I can give you a lift home?” he offered.

“Forget it. I’ll call you,” she huffed, walking out of his room, shutting the door in annoyed bang. There was silence as Roxy stayed on her bed, trying to hear if Eggsy was moving around at all. It didn’t seem like it.

“I don’t think she’s going to call you,” she joked.

Eggsy sighed, but scoffed out a laugh anyway. “Yeah. She doesn’t have my number.” Roxy smiled.

“You know, you could still chase after her,” she told him.

“Honestly, I’d rather just sit here and watch some TV,” he replied, his voice calm and not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. Roxy bit at her lip. “What epi -”

“The one with all the wedding dresses,” Roxy laughed after she told him.

“Classic.”

“Catch up so we can watch it together,” she said, relaxing back into her bed, listening through his wall to make sure they were almost at the same point. They ended up laughing the whole night to whatever was happening on screen, as well as Roxy telling Eggsy a story of how she and her friends ended up doing something similar with wedding dresses. In her defence, her friend was getting married and felt weird about renting a dress alone, so all the girls got dresses and wore them around the hotel room a few days before the wedding. Eggsy laughed at that fact of her life. Roxy liked hearing him laugh.

After an extremely long Friday, Roxy pushed up her glasses, reading over the teacher’s notes she made for the day in her diary. Daisy was still struggling to keep consistent homework, Roxy had to note that she had to talk to Daisy’s parents about this. Evan was having more behavioural issues in class, which Roxy would have to talk to him about before bringing in his parents. Lucy had improved in her mathematics problem solving, but her literature marks weren’t improving, which was saddening to see, maybe Roxy would -

She was already at her door, her books in her hand and she hadn’t even tried for her keys. She cursed herself internally for not paying attention sooner, but the struggle between Roxy and her bag became her next quest. When she reached her keys and tried to get them out from her bag, she dropped them on the floor.

“Shit,” she cursed aloud this time. Bending down to get them, a hand was already on them, picking them up before she was able to. Looking up, she saw the square-jawed young man with eyes that had the brightest blue Roxy had ever seen. He smiled at her with lips that curved so gracefully on his face, it made her swallow hard just watching him.

“Roxy?” he asked, a voice so familiar, it was impossible for her not to recognise it by now.

“Eggsy?” she asked in return and he chuckled, handing her over her keys.

“Good to finally meet you,” he said, running his hand over the stubble on his chin and jaw. Roxy clenched tightly to her keys; she needed something to hold onto because he couldn’t be real.

“You too,” she said with a shaken voice. Roxy was better than this, better than being nervous, but she really couldn’t help it.

“Studying?” he asked, pointing at her diary and she gave a vague nod.

“Sort of,” she licked at her lip. “I’m a little bit of a mess right now, but it was good meeting you...finally,” she gave over a giggle, using her keys to tuck hair behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t say a mess,” Eggsy gave over a flirty smirk, which made Roxy feel uneasy.

“I’m doubtful on that. Good seeing you Eggsy,” she waved before unlocking her door. Eggsy smiled at her one last time before they both disappeared inside their apartments. Throwing everything to the floor and out of her arms, Roxy shut the door and leaned against the wood. Covering her mouth, Roxy sighed. “Oh, I’m so screwed,” she whispered against her hand. And, boy was she right.

[amarabliss]

Capable of Change - 9 (Savitar!Barry/Reader)

Imagine, remnant Barry getting asked out by you and he decided to say yes…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

You sat with your head in your hands. It had been a long…long day…You stood up in the cell they had kept you in. Apparently, things had escalated quickly. Something about a speed bazooka and Savitar being more aggressive…

You leaned against the wall again trying to wrap your head around everything. Iris and H.R. had come down trying to explain everything again a couple days ago. They brought pictures and proof…everything to prove that Allen was this…monster.

You couldn’t believe it still…you didn’t want to. You gave him your heart. Let him into your home…let him meet your family.

You wiped away a tear hearing your father’s voice, “Seems like a nice kid…you keep him around…”

You looked over as the door opened your mouth dropping open in surprise when you saw Barry. No scar...no anything…yet so familiar. You crossed your arms over your chest feeling yourself tear up, “What? Need to yell at me some more?”

“I need your help…” He sighed with a frown, “I never meant to hurt you. I know this can’t be easy to understand.”

“You think? You’re telling me that man I love is…is something…” You shook your head looking away, “What do you want?”

“I need…” He took in a deep breath reaching over to the door opening it, “I need you to be there for him. We hurt him in the future…so badly that…it drove him to all of this. Still he found you, and in the last couple of days I realized he found a light to hold on to.”

“If he’s so…evil…” You looked at him letting your arms fall to your sides, “why think I can help?”

“Because...I’m…still in him.” Barry looked at him, “He wants to have a family and friends. He wants to stop hurting…I want to help him. I want him to live a life…here…and he…he still remembers being me, and I’m sure he’s shared some of that with you. He wants to come home. Help me bring him home.”

You stared into those wonderful eyes of his for a long time before you nodded, “What do you need me to do?”

Barry smiled a little, “I just…need you to be here when I bring back. I’m not sure what’s going to happen…and I can’t promise that you’ll like what you see.”

You stepped out looking up at him, “I will do anything for him. I want you to know that.”

Barry’s mouth dropped open slightly as he stared down into your eyes. You watched his ears get red as he became flustered. When he turned away from you a thought occurred to you…if this Barry was flustered…did Allen meet you then or now?

You shook it off following him upstairs and into their main hub. Everyone seemed so sullen and finally Iris told you what had happened to HR after Barry had rushed off. You apologized because it was appropriate and because he had been the only real kind one.

It was when he walked in later that everyone truly froze in their spots. Following him slowly was Allen. You wanted to run to him. To embrace him but the way he moved stopped you.

He was like a cornered predator waiting to claw his way out. There was so much distrust and anger in his eyes. Then they landed on you and they softened showing the man you cared about briefly.

Sorrow…you saw so much sorrow. You took in a deep breath staring back at him. You both knew there was nothing that could be said that would make any of this easier.

“You make one move toward Iris.” Joe pointed at him.

Barry was quick to defend his future-self. In fact, he was trying to keep everyone calm as Allen moved around the room positioning himself between you and them. Allen was insisting that they show him how they would help him and then he would release their friends.

“This is bloody insanity…” Julian pointed at him as everyone began to shout. Barry again tried his best to keep everyone in line, but it war Iris who calmed everyone down by moving to Allen.

“Look at me…” Allen’s face held so much pain and shame. You remembered that he had told you he’d lost her…you just hadn’t realized he had killed her, “It’s okay…look at me.”

Allen looked up slowly as she reached up touch his face, “Now…look at her…”

He glanced over to you standing a few feet away before looking back to Iris. You could see the confliction in his eyes, “Iris…”

“We’re gonna help you, okay?” Iris let her hand fall away bringing it back to herself quickly. A reaction you didn’t like. You felt a burning sensation in your chest seeing how she used herself as a tool to draw him in. You wanted to warn him…tell him she wasn’t being 100% with him…but you also weren’t sure of anything anymore.

“…thank you…” He whispered quietly staring into her eyes.

Emotions where like a roller-coaster in the room. One moment rage was flying and wanting a fight to break out. The next moment sadness and sorrow wanted to bring long overdue apologies and regret to the surface…now we were back to rage as Tracy entered the room refusing to help Allen.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” Allen looked at Barry before looking to you again.

“No…we’ll get her to help us.” Barry watched him look at you before looking at Iris who stated she might know someone who could help.

Everyone moved their separate ways for a moment. Giving Allen a chance to walk over to you, “Y/N…”

“…” You shut your eyes making him stop, “…just…why me?”

You opened your eyes looking at him. His mouth opened and closed staring at you for a long time before it just shut. His shoulder slumped little as he reached for your hand but stopped himself as he whispered, “Because…you liked my jacket.”

You took in a deep breath putting your hands over your face, “Allen…I didn’t…”

“I know…” He whispered wanting to pull you into his arms he just didn’t know if it would be okay, “I screwed up by saying yes…by getting involved with you. I hurt you. You don’t…you never deserved any of this.”

You sniffed wiping your face with your hand as he went on, “But…Barry was right…I saw light in you. One that I’ve been missing for a while…and you gave me comfort. I just…I wanted a home again.”

“Allen…” You looked at him sadly, “You killed someone…you lied to me…”

“I know.” He nodded looking down at his hands, “I know…I can’t ask you to stay…I can’t ask you to ever forgive me, but I might not have a whole lot of time left and I need you to know…”

“Allen…” You shook your head.

“I do love you.” He looked at making you freeze, “I love you, Y/N.”

He smiled at you as he went on, “I’ve known for a while…and I’m even more horrible of person telling you after everything you’ve found out. I suck…”

You stood there in silence with him for a moment, “…you don’t suck…you just…have bad timing.”

He laughed a little when he saw you smile through more tears, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I just…I just wanted to, to be. I didn’t want to be used and discarded…and I can’t make any of this better.”

“I can’t…” You stopped yourself getting choked up something, “Allen, I can’t even begin to fully understand any of this, but there has to be a way to keep you here.”

His heart skipped as you took his hand lightly in yours, “I…have a way…I just…it’s not easy.”

“Will people get hurt?” You whispered lacing your fingers with his.

“I hope not…but…” He stared your hand in his, “if Barry and the others have a way…”

“What if they don’t?” You looked at him concern falling over your features as you remembered Iris’ reaction earlier.

His eyes flashed to yours, “What do you mean?”

“Never mind…” You shook your head, “It’s nothing…”

“Y/N…” He put his finger under your chin getting you to look at him, “I trust you.”

“…I don’t…I don’t think everyone is as invested in this solution as much as Barry is…” You told him, “I know obviously there are those immediately hesitant…but…I don’t trust Iris.”

His eyes got wide, “What?”

“I think she’s playing you…” You frowned, “I can’t be sure…and I’m not going to lie it might be jealousy…but her body language…I just can’t shake his feeling.”

His hand cupped your face as he smiled at you. You had expected him to get angry with you for suggesting his former lover could be double crossing him somehow, “I…need you to be ready to leave.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised.

“I’m not going to leave you here.” He leaned down kissing your forehead, “I just…I trust your judgement over mine right now. So, be ready to leave, okay?”

He turned walking toward a computer that Barry was sitting at, “Is Iris back yet?”

“She should be soon.” Barry looked at him before glancing over to you, “She seems really nice.”

Allen glared at him slightly, “She’s more than nice.”

“Hm.” Barry looked at him, “You know what she said…about everyone being capable of change?”

“Yeah?” Allen crossed his arms over his chest.

“You believe it?” Barry stared at him carefully.

“You tell me.” Allen’s eyes narrowed on him.

“Then you already know the answer.” Barry smiled at him as he stood up, “I hope this works, for both your sakes.”

Allen watched him walk out into the hall as he whispered, “Me too…”

[yoonminist]

crush stories p3 (💕tell me about your crush 💕) 

 my crush is another girl, she's short and athletic w/ real pretty green blue eyes, tanned and asks silly questions. we're kinda friends, i talk to her once or twice a week, but she's kinda probably really straight woops 

aww she sounds cute :’( having a crush on a straight girl is,,,, not the Worst thing ever but it rlly is unfair

 My crush is a year older than jm, sje has dark brown hair and eyes and she'sfar taller than me. She's a walking talking meme (like me) and a cosplayer and whenever I message her Ialways use a very Bad pick up line. She is a sucker for it. Ah! She also plays the piano and she's very good at it! And her voice is like the best baritone voice that I've ever heard (for a girl at least)! MUSIC COUPLE FOREVA WHEEEEE~ 

PLEASE tell me you’re dating lmao in any case if she likes your bad pickup lines then she’s so into you i love this

Omg I just remembered how I got my best friend into kpop! I just send her a pic of yoongi AND SHE WAS GONE!!!! She talked non stop about him like the cute little baby she is (honestly i know NO ONE who's cuter than her I know her since she's born she's the cutest and softest and prettiest baby ever i swear) she even named her fishes yoongi and jimin BUT JIMIN ATE YOONGI LMAO I'm honestly so proud of myself for showing bts to her she adores them so much

JIMIN ATE YOONGI IS THIS A SIGN jdnkjnefjknd im jk “she's the cutest and softest and prettiest baby ever i swear” bye that’s adorable

i once had this crush on my roommate, i thought she was straight but then she came out to me and said that she has a gf and thats ok w me, the problem was shes always naked when she comes back to our room after taking a bath(this culd be ff material)

omg if you want her to stop then tell her it makes you uncomfortable but,,,,, if you don’t want her to stop then LMAO 

my crush is basically jimin. he reminds me of jimin so much- short, looks similar (even the eye smile and laugh), energetic and caring to everyone. and um. not to b conceited but one of the reasons i love ym so much is i relate to yg a Lot so it freaked me out when i realised ym interactions are so similar to ours. when we were in high school he sat in front of me in class and he wld turn to glance like 20 times in 1 hr (yea i counted) but everytime i make eye contact he’d whip his head back and act like nth happened. he’d just… like hover? Around but when i look at him he dashes off. once he happned to sit next to me while i was drawing and it seemed like he was sleeping so i didn’t look, but after abt an hour i looked up to check the time. he almost slammed his head on the table i.. he was staring at me the whole time.. anw the thing was tht everytime he talked to me i end up being blunt and kinda.. ignoring him cos feelings scare me + when i try to talk to him he suddenly seems in a hurry to get away.. were in the same college now. we saw each other a few times but didnt approach. ystd i happened to walk the same way as him. i decided to say hi,,he asked me what im studying then ran off after i answered. it’s still the same. sry if this got long ive never gotten a chance to rly talk abt my crush .///. 

ooooh god i don’t know anything about stuff like this but it sounds like your being blunt kinda scared him off ?? from this alone he seems like the type you need to be gentle with so idk if you want to be close to him but if you do i’d suggest you keep making the first move and don’t ignore him like before so that he isn’t this shy around you anymore ,,, or maybe you just wanted to vent lmao w/e happens with this guy i wish you both the best !!

My crush amazing blue eyes and black hair. When she plays with her dog it brings out the prettiest smile. She liked me back (i didnt know she was bi too) at some point we started dating. She had complete control over my emotions i thought i was starting to fall in love until she broke up with me. It was awful. after months I still can't get over her. She started talking to me again but we're not together.We're just not meant to be I think :) I'd just like to meet her one day that would be enough

no!!!! don’t talk to her !!! take this from experience, i think the best way to get over someone is to get rid of them until you’re 100% ready to bring them back into your life again, as friends,,, even if it takes months she should understand but if you can’t do that then i just hope you get over her asap so that you can go back to being friends :’)

I actually denied that I kind of have a crush on this one guy that I met through another friend and I still do deny it because he's only into Asian girls and I'm Islander so it could never happen but honestly he's really funny and I don't feel all that awkward around him but there's no way he'd go for me. My friends, including the one I met him through, kinda ship us but I could never tell him because I'm the farthest from his type there could ever be tbh lmao

ohh hopefully he isn’t that shallow not to disregard a potential r/s just because you aren't asian but i GUESS it’s understandable if he’s asian too n it’s a family/cultural thing ?? i get the ‘denying your crush’ thing though askjdnjsjgkj hang in there hun it won’t last forever :’(

my crush has red hair and she's tall and gorgeous, we match so well, i know she likes girls too but im scared to try something. i was at hers today, and we ate brigadeiro and watched sense8 ahhh

THIS IS CUTE i'm not gonna force you to go for it but i hope one day It happens and you start dating ♡

I made out with my crush once while super high and then he helped me pee and that's about how romantic my story with my crush is 👋🏻

Who Said Chivalry is Dead 

Are we still talking about this crush thing? Because lemme tell you a story. I once had this crush (years ago). He is now my best friend's boyfriend. Lol tbh I'm not bothered but I keep laughing at how freaking cliche this is, it just seems like it came out of a fiction on wattpad. Most recent crush tho, well, he nearly accidentally killed me and my friend. Let's just say I no longer have a crush lmao. But compare my stories about my crush to others make me laugh. THE CONTRAST.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE NEARLY ACCIDENTALLY KILLED YOU COME BACK AND ELABORATE

[sxdomy]

All numbers

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more cereal2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? not @ all3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? tissues, napkins, sticky notes, random cuts of notebook paper4: how do you take your coffee/tea? two-four sugars w creamer or 1/2 n 1/2 (tea)5: are you self-conscious of your smile? not after i got braces6: do you keep plants? no7: do you name your plants? 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? idk the only art i do is in photography, and i try to do dark/spooky shit.. it doesnt have a meaning9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yes10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? i dont rly have a friends group, less drama that way12: what's your favorite planet? smth has always intrigued me abt mars13: what's something that made you smile today? lars (:14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? idc it's somewhere to live.. we can fix it up if we have the money. if so, i would prob have a bunch of shit everywhere lmao15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! it says language programming ??16: what's your favorite pasta dish? some plain old penne/rigatoni w red gravy, but it has to be GOOD red gravy .. none of that ragu/preggo shit17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? black and it already is dyed that color, but i do want to experiment a bit and get few pieces red18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. JESUS.. these are endless... once i RLY had to pee, and i was @ school. it was after school hrs. my friend and i were waiting for the game to start. all the doors were locked up @ the school. i think they took out the portapotty from outside, so i said to my friend, "let's go to the lower field" (we have an upper and lower field idk what other schools have lmao) despite it saying there are cameras down there (which IK for sure bc i've seen the computer w the school cameras, and there are ones surveilling the fields), i peed. in 8th grade during lunch, this girl pissed me the fuck off. i can't remember what she did, but i picked up her sandwich and threw it to the ground.another time in 8th grade during gym, my friends and i were fooling around during a fitness walk (walk thru the trail surrounded by woods oooo). i was yelling "IN DA GREENZ" bc i was a rly weird kid, and now we bring it up whenever we see bushes. OKAY lasT memORYYY in 8th grade, i was on the soccer team. i sucked @ it... the ball was coming to me, and i tried to kick it. instead of kicking it, my foot went on top of the ball resulting in my fall19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i used to keep a journal. last winter was the most recent journal i'd had, and my guidance counselor purchased it for me. i was going thru a rly hard time, and it was an outlet from that. after the winter ended, i never felt the need to write in it again.. it hasnt gotten that bad20: what's your favorite eye color? lars' eye color21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. 22: are you a morning person? depends... if my sleeping schedule is just like that, I LOVE WAKING UP IN THE MORNING. if i don't usually, then no fuck it lmao23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? literally nothing, but i do that when i have obligations... i get to it @ some point24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? lars25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? i've broken into my friend's house and my own. breaking into my friend's house wasn't rly that weird. i was out of it bc i had hardly gotten sleep the previous night. i also had permission lmao it wasn't as if i just went in. my friend had forgotten her key. breaking into my own house was actually bizarre ...26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? i usually wear my docs, but i switch out. before getting my docs, i wore my all black vans W LITERALLY EVERYTHING. the only time i wouldnt was when i wore a light outfit, which wasnt often bc 98% of the time i wear all black27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? i don't chew gum. it has aspartame, which is literally poison28: sunrise or sunset? i haven't seen a sunset since i was a child, and i want to definitely see it again29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? monty is my lover30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. socks are good. if you wear them in the cold months around the house, you are less susceptible to sickness. they also work well when you wear them w most shoes bc they prevent sweat. lars take notes (; i love wearing weird socks. i love socks. i usually never match socks bc no one will see them?? if i wear a black sock, i try to match w another black sock tho. i do sleep w socks in the cold months. otherwise, my feet would freeze. sometimes i wear multiple socks in the summer to keep my feet warm. i do wear white socks sometimes32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. i wasn't w my friends, but i found a drunken man in my rm after 3am on st. patricks day two yrs ago33: what's your fave pastry? cannoli34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i kept this one stuffed animal who was a girl. she had blonde braids, and i used to kiss her on the lips when no one was looking. i knew it was weird bc she wasn't real. i also used to pretend i was fucking her... it was a weird childhood. idk where she is now35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I LOVE PENS!!!! okay im going to sound like a weirdo.. i only love certain kinds. i hate cheap ass pens. my fav pens are the ones that u click on the bottom to get the tip bc the clicking helps me concentrate. it's also fun to just click it. i haven't used a clicky one in awhile bc i bought myself pentels. i love pentels as well bc they come in nice colors, and i rly like the cap for it. i like pens that come from certain companies bc it looks like i've been somewhere.. maybe i have? i've gotten free pens from places and some of them i just found w that lettering lmao 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? nine inch nails (:37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? dont care as long as ik where everything is. my parents call it messy, but i call it my peace38: tell us about your pet peeves! i hate when ppl put things back where they don't belong. idk i dont keep track of this shit39: what color do you wear the most? black40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? none41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? 1984 by george orwell42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! starbucks LMAO43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? no one44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? the last time i was w lars45: do you trust your instincts a lot? yes46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. idk47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? high fructose corn syrup48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? idr what it was then, but now it's getting raped.. ive had this fear since i was 14 i think49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? i dont usually buy that shit50: what's an odd thing you collect? wristbands.. i like to say i've been places51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? lars , peach // the front bottoms52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? the yr just started, bUT I LOVE IAN'S (IDUBZZZZ) VIDEO OF "I HAVE CRIPPLING DEPRESSION"53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i want to see rocky horror picture show. i've seen heathers, beetlejuice, and pulp fiction. i love heathers and beetlejuice. i didn't understand pulp fiction entirely, but that could be bc i was spammed by a gc while watching it54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? idk55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? idk56: what are some things you find endearing in people? smile57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i never realized that this song sounds like five mini songs put together... i did reenact them in my head58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? nonexistent lol59: what's your favorite myth? black eyed children60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? anything from edgar allan poe61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? idk i hate getting gifts i'd rather give them, but i don't usually give them bc i never have money when it's time62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? ORANGE!63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? no64: what color is the sky where you are right now? grey65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? lars66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? idk67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? i have SAD soooo68: what's winter like where you live? FUCKING HORRIBLE, but it's worse in other places69: what are your favorite board games? ive been missing guess who? lately70: have you ever used a ouija board? no, but my math teacher says u have to make it from a certain wood and put a spell on it for it to work... too much work 😩71: what's your favorite kind of tea? lipton lemon!!!!!72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? i try to note everything down, but sometimes i can remember things w/o writing them down73: what are some of your worst habits? staying in bed for too long74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. bye75: tell us about your pets! i have a dog, and she's old af lmao i never rly liked her idk i hate dogs76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? homework and probably calling up my new job to see when i have to go in.. cant be arsed.. 77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? FANCLUB!!! (:79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?lars gave me cute cat headphones80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? white.. i didn't choose it81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. i can't rn82: are/were you good in school? i made it into university, so i guess so83: what's some of your favorite album art? the devin n god are raging inside of me // brand new .. cant think of many in particular84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? one in remembrance of my friend who died and a full sleeve85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no86: do you like concept albums? which ones? YES YES YESSSS MANSON 'S CONCEPTS R SO GOOD (: 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? idk88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? i just rly like frida kahlo89: are you close to your parents? no90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i want to visit/live in philly so badly ):91: where do you plan on traveling this year? texas92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? i only put a little fresh mozz on it if there is quite a bit93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? i just wear my hair the same everyday94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? lars95: what are your plans for this weekend? none96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? omfg i had 20 or so awaiting updates last summer that i had to finally do bc it was fucking up my computer97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? what98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? i dont hike99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. NOBODY'S PERFECT BY HANNAH MONTANA100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 yrs into the future.. why would i want to relive the last 5 yrs of life ?? idk im just fine living w my past mistakes.. they've shaped me

[ralphlayton]

Your Guide to Effective Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is a guy who understands content. He was the featured keynote speaker at Content Marketing World three years ago, and his company HitRecord empowers creators to collaborate and produce awesome stuff together. Joseph Gordon-Levitt also understands storytelling. He is an actor, director, producer, and writer who has appeared in numerous beloved movies and TV shows. His work as an author includes a series of works called The Book of Tiny Stories. “The universe is not made of atoms; it’s made of tiny stories,” the tagline asserts. Given his experience and expertise at the intersection of content and storytelling, it’s worth listening any time Gordon-Levitt speaks on these subjects. So I definitely took notice when the film icon suggested recently that the future of storytelling lies not in movies, but video games. The gaming medium “feels like kind of the most groundbreaking storytelling,” Gordon-Levitt observed in a new episode of the YouTube show Hot Ones. “Storytelling that's completely in a whole different realm than anything we've seen before.” Personally, I can’t disagree with him. I love video games, in large part due to the immersion of a well-crafted narrative that draws the player into an interactive virtual world. And while marketing departments aren’t exactly concocting the next Grand Theft Auto, we do have the ability to deliver storytelling experiences that go above and beyond, by embracing many of the same principles that make video games such an appealing format in the eyes of Gordon-Levitt and others. Of course, the formula for impactful storytelling in B2B content marketing is different from video games, or movies, even though it might share commonalities with both. To help you develop stories that engage and activate your professional audience, I've developed a blueprint, which I’ve dubbed the S.T.O.R.Y. model.

The S.T.O.R.Y Model for Great Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing

Sizzle. Tension. Originality. Relevance. Yearning. Every stellar piece of storytelling in B2B content marketing encompasses these five words. Let's break down each one, and how they come together for a powerful experience. (We'll lean on JGL to visualize these concepts.)

Sizzle

sizzle (n): a state or quality of great excitement or passion

In Gordon-Levitt's world of filmmaking, a "sizzle reel" refers to a short, fast-paced video edit featuring the best of someone's past work. Sizzle reels are often put together by actors who distribute them in hopes of landing gigs. As the name suggests, these reels need to sizzle: The excitement and passion must be on display right away in order to wrangle the attention of a casting director sorting through hundreds of them. The B2B marketer's directive is no different. Earning the attention of our audiences in the era of rampant content saturation means we need to bring it. If your story does not imbue a genuine and immediately discernible sense of passion and excitement, it may very well not be worth telling.

via GIPHY

Tension

tension (n): a balance maintained in an artistic work between opposing forces or elements

Sizzle is how you grab the audience's attention with your story. Tension is how you keep it. Storytellers can build tension by referencing or hinting at something early on, and then gradually working toward the payoff. This dynamic was explained beautifully by Andrew Davis at CM World – one year after Gordon-Levitt’s appearance – in his opening 2018 keynote exploring the “curiosity gap” and how it counteracts dwindling attention spans. I had the pleasure of watching Davis break it down alongside my colleague Ashley Zeckman, who recapped the session here on our blog. Read her post and you’ll learn everything you need to know about using tension to keep your audience hooked. [bctt tweet="“The more tension you raise, the more your audience needs to see the outcome.” @DrewDavisHere #Storytelling #ContentMarketing" username="toprank"]

via GIPHY

Originality

originality (n): freshness of aspect, design, or style

In order to be memorable, it must be novel. While it's valuable to keep someone watching or reading to completion, we're not telling a great story simply because they absorbed the whole thing. We're telling a great story if it sticks with them. To this end, freshness and originality are essential qualities. The human brain can only consciously store so many memories. There isn't much room for redundancy. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel with every story you tell, but there should always be at least one inventive or unexpected element that makes it feel unique.

via GIPHY

Relevance

relevance (n): the quality or state of being closely connected or appropriate

From one view, the word "relevance" is incredibly broad. From another, it is narrow as can be. Example: Coronavirus is relevant to every human being on Planet Earth right now. But, what about the mental health impact of a pandemic on first-time telecommuters, and how HR managers can provide meaningful support? Now you’ve zeroed in. Here is where we begin to diverge from standard forms of entertainment. Great art often speaks to the many. Great B2B content marketing should speak to the few, but in a fiercely resonant way. [bctt tweet="“Great art often speaks to the many. Great B2B content marketing should speak to the few, but in a fiercely resonant way.” @NickNelsonMN #Storytelling #ContentMarketing" username="toprank"]

via GIPHY

Yearning

yearning (n): a feeling of intense longing for something

And here is where we fully settle into the marketing realm. Leaving the viewer with a sense of yearning is a common objective in entertainment – think cliffhangers – but only in content marketing is it requisite for efficacy. This doesn’t mean someone finishes your story and has a yearning to go buy the product or service. That's an unlikely (albeit highly impressive) outcome. It means they yearn for more – more installments in the series, more content from the brand, more information on the website, more social media posts from the account.

via GIPHY

Tell Your Brand’s S.T.O.R.Y.

When your story sizzles, builds tension, exudes originality, sparks relevant tones with a defined audience, and leaves the reader or viewer yearning for more … you’ve got yourself a highly effective piece of B2B content marketing. The specifics within this framework are flexible and open to your own creative spin – you’d hardly be able to check the “originality” box if that wasn’t the case – but the overarching principles of impactful marketing narratives are quite consistent in every successful production. They’re most often found in movies and video games too, for that matter.

via GIPHY To learn how you can apply this formula to establish stronger relationships with your audience, check out my blog post on channeling the skills of Abraham Lincoln to build trust through storytelling.

The post Your Guide to Effective Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing appeared first on Online Marketing Blog - TopRank®.

Your Guide to Effective Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing published first on yhttps://improfitninja.blogspot.com/

[samuelpboswell]

Your Guide to Effective Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is a guy who understands content. He was the featured keynote speaker at Content Marketing World three years ago, and his company HitRecord empowers creators to collaborate and produce awesome stuff together. Joseph Gordon-Levitt also understands storytelling. He is an actor, director, producer, and writer who has appeared in numerous beloved movies and TV shows. His work as an author includes a series of works called The Book of Tiny Stories. “The universe is not made of atoms; it’s made of tiny stories,” the tagline asserts. Given his experience and expertise at the intersection of content and storytelling, it’s worth listening any time Gordon-Levitt speaks on these subjects. So I definitely took notice when the film icon suggested recently that the future of storytelling lies not in movies, but video games. The gaming medium “feels like kind of the most groundbreaking storytelling,” Gordon-Levitt observed in a new episode of the YouTube show Hot Ones. “Storytelling that's completely in a whole different realm than anything we've seen before.” Personally, I can’t disagree with him. I love video games, in large part due to the immersion of a well-crafted narrative that draws the player into an interactive virtual world. And while marketing departments aren’t exactly concocting the next Grand Theft Auto, we do have the ability to deliver storytelling experiences that go above and beyond, by embracing many of the same principles that make video games such an appealing format in the eyes of Gordon-Levitt and others. Of course, the formula for impactful storytelling in B2B content marketing is different from video games, or movies, even though it might share commonalities with both. To help you develop stories that engage and activate your professional audience, I've developed a blueprint, which I’ve dubbed the S.T.O.R.Y. model.

The S.T.O.R.Y Model for Great Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing

Sizzle. Tension. Originality. Relevance. Yearning. Every stellar piece of storytelling in B2B content marketing encompasses these five words. Let's break down each one, and how they come together for a powerful experience. (We'll lean on JGL to visualize these concepts.)

Sizzle

sizzle (n): a state or quality of great excitement or passion

In Gordon-Levitt's world of filmmaking, a "sizzle reel" refers to a short, fast-paced video edit featuring the best of someone's past work. Sizzle reels are often put together by actors who distribute them in hopes of landing gigs. As the name suggests, these reels need to sizzle: The excitement and passion must be on display right away in order to wrangle the attention of a casting director sorting through hundreds of them. The B2B marketer's directive is no different. Earning the attention of our audiences in the era of rampant content saturation means we need to bring it. If your story does not imbue a genuine and immediately discernible sense of passion and excitement, it may very well not be worth telling.

via GIPHY

Tension

tension (n): a balance maintained in an artistic work between opposing forces or elements

Sizzle is how you grab the audience's attention with your story. Tension is how you keep it. Storytellers can build tension by referencing or hinting at something early on, and then gradually working toward the payoff. This dynamic was explained beautifully by Andrew Davis at CM World – one year after Gordon-Levitt’s appearance – in his opening 2018 keynote exploring the “curiosity gap” and how it counteracts dwindling attention spans. I had the pleasure of watching Davis break it down alongside my colleague Ashley Zeckman, who recapped the session here on our blog. Read her post and you’ll learn everything you need to know about using tension to keep your audience hooked. [bctt tweet="“The more tension you raise, the more your audience needs to see the outcome.” @DrewDavisHere #Storytelling #ContentMarketing" username="toprank"]

via GIPHY

Originality

originality (n): freshness of aspect, design, or style

In order to be memorable, it must be novel. While it's valuable to keep someone watching or reading to completion, we're not telling a great story simply because they absorbed the whole thing. We're telling a great story if it sticks with them. To this end, freshness and originality are essential qualities. The human brain can only consciously store so many memories. There isn't much room for redundancy. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel with every story you tell, but there should always be at least one inventive or unexpected element that makes it feel unique.

via GIPHY

Relevance

relevance (n): the quality or state of being closely connected or appropriate

From one view, the word "relevance" is incredibly broad. From another, it is narrow as can be. Example: Coronavirus is relevant to every human being on Planet Earth right now. But, what about the mental health impact of a pandemic on first-time telecommuters, and how HR managers can provide meaningful support? Now you’ve zeroed in. Here is where we begin to diverge from standard forms of entertainment. Great art often speaks to the many. Great B2B content marketing should speak to the few, but in a fiercely resonant way. [bctt tweet="“Great art often speaks to the many. Great B2B content marketing should speak to the few, but in a fiercely resonant way.” @NickNelsonMN #Storytelling #ContentMarketing" username="toprank"]

via GIPHY

Yearning

yearning (n): a feeling of intense longing for something

And here is where we fully settle into the marketing realm. Leaving the viewer with a sense of yearning is a common objective in entertainment – think cliffhangers – but only in content marketing is it requisite for efficacy. This doesn’t mean someone finishes your story and has a yearning to go buy the product or service. That's an unlikely (albeit highly impressive) outcome. It means they yearn for more – more installments in the series, more content from the brand, more information on the website, more social media posts from the account.

via GIPHY

Tell Your Brand’s S.T.O.R.Y.

When your story sizzles, builds tension, exudes originality, sparks relevant tones with a defined audience, and leaves the reader or viewer yearning for more … you’ve got yourself a highly effective piece of B2B content marketing. The specifics within this framework are flexible and open to your own creative spin – you’d hardly be able to check the “originality” box if that wasn’t the case – but the overarching principles of impactful marketing narratives are quite consistent in every successful production. They’re most often found in movies and video games too, for that matter.

via GIPHY To learn how you can apply this formula to establish stronger relationships with your audience, check out my blog post on channeling the skills of Abraham Lincoln to build trust through storytelling.

The post Your Guide to Effective Storytelling in B2B Content Marketing appeared first on Online Marketing Blog - TopRank®.

from The SEO Advantages https://www.toprankblog.com/2020/09/effective-storytelling-in-b2b-content-marketing/