#whats wrong with him why is his office like that

[yellowbrokenblue]

His favourite employee

CEO!Harry x secretary!Y/N

cw: smut, feral dom!Harry, degradation

It was 11pm. Hours past the time she was supposed to be home already. In a normal life she’d be tucked up in bed, ready to go to sleep. But instead she was here, her laptop open, cramming in as much as she could before she was back in the office at 8am tomorrow morning.

But she had to. She simply had to.

The look on Harry’s face tomorrow when he realises how much work she’d managed to complete would all be worth it, even if it meant doing overtime he wasn’t aware of.

“Y/N?”

Crap. She hadn’t even heard the door open. She’d dismissed the footsteps in the hallway as the buildings janitor, but her boss walking through the door had given her a fright.

“Oh! Uhm… Harry, hi…”

Harry chuckled, “Calm down, Y/N. Don’t look so frightened. It’s only me.”

Only him.

Only him was the understatement of the century. Harry Styles was the pinnacle of man. Gods best creation. You didn’t get any better than Harry Styles, it just wasn’t possible.

“What are you doing in here so late?” She asked him.

“I forgot my apartment key.” Harry said, “But I should be asking you why you’re in here so late, you were supposed to finish three hours ago.”

“I know…” She said, “But I just had so much I wanted to get done.”

“Is that right?” Harry asked, “Hm.”

He put his keys in his pocket, walking over to her desk and taking a seat on the edge of the table.

“You seem to do a lot for me around here, Y/N.” He said, “Isn’t that right?”

“I’m just trying to do my job.” She smiled in return.

“What you do for me, Y/N, is far beyond what I ask of any employee. We both know that.”

The room felt like it was one hundred degrees hotter with him sitting this close to her. Her breathing had gone too fast, and she was sweating buckets. Simply from his presence.

“I just have the companies best interests at heart. I have your best interests at heart.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think that is the only reason, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think I don’t notice, but I pick up on everything. I know you’re the first one in every morning, patiently waiting with your eyes on the door waiting for me to walk through. You’ll make any excuse to come and see me in my office, and you’ve taken on some of my personal assistant roles just so you can pick out my lunch every afternoon.”

She swallowed.

His eyes were stuck on hers. And she was sure he could tell that her heart was beating out of her chest.

“Of course, I can’t forget the cute little outfits you wear every day, Y/N. Not to mention that you’re always in a skirt.” Harry said, quieter this time, “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I can’t help but assume that is wishful thinking for that to be if something were to happen between us… It would give me…” Harry’s hand reached for the hem of her skirt, his fingers sliding underneath, “Easy access.”

Her breath hitched. Four years working for Harry’s company and he had finally touched her. This was all she’d ever wanted ever since her interview when she was 20 years old.

“Don’t look so nervous, Y/N.” He said, “I know how it feels to lust for someone. To spend every waking moment thinking about their body, to imagine them whenever you’re with someone else, just wishing it was them instead. To picture them when you touch yourself.”

Harry’s hand was sliding further up her thigh underneath her skirt. Her legs were pressed together with as much force as she could muster. Harry couldn’t know how wet she was in this moment, it would be embarrassing.

His thumb grazed the elastic of her panties.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He whispered, sliding off of the desk so he could talk directly into her ear. Her whole body shivered when his lips brushed against the skin of her earlobe, “Who is it you think about when you touch yourself.”

“Harry…” She breathed, “What are you-”

“Answer the question, Y/N.” He said, “You’re always a good, obedient girl when I ask you work related questions during office hours. And I expect the same from you outside of working time, even if we are in the office. Now, I’ll ask you again. Who do you think of when your hands are buried in your wet little pussy.”

She inhaled a sharp breath, not expecting the sudden change of his language. Her heart was racing, and his thumb was itching closer and closer to her desperate cunt.

“You.” She gasped, “You, Harry, I think of you.”

He smirked.

“Have you ever thought of me when you fucked another man?” He asked, “Have you ever said my name when you fucked someone else.”

His thumb brushed over her throbbing clit over the fabric of her panties.

“Oh!” She moaned, as his thumb pressed against her.

“Tell me.” He said again. “Tell me you think of me when you’re with other men.”

“I think of you all the time, Harry. Any time I’m with someone.”

“Do you sit in the office all day, doing the little jobs I give you, just imagining you were in my office instead?” He asked, “Do you ever imagine yourself bent over my desk, Y/N?”

He knelt down in front of her, and began to peel her underwear down her legs.

“I find that so hot, Y/N. The fact you sit and type your emails, just wishing my dick was inside you.”

“Harry…” She breathed, feeling his skin on hers.

“Pull your skirt up.” He said.

She looked at him, not quite believing her eyes. Harry was kneeling in front of her, pulling her soaked panties off her legs, looking like he wants to devour her.

“Who were you emailing?” Harry asked, sliding the panties off her legs completely, before looking back up at her.

“What?”

“Your emails are open on your laptop. Who were you emailing?”

“Just the electrician to fix the lights in the bathroom…” She said. “And then I was going to email the postal compan-”

She was caught by surprise by Harry placing his lips on her thighs, letting out a loud gasp.

He kissed up her thigh, towards her aching core.

“You’re so wet.” He hummed. “Who knew my words could turn someone on so much.”

Her breathing sped up, her hands shaking while they gripped the sides of the chair.

“Show me where you want me, sweet girl.” He said, pulling his head away. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

She shakily took her hand off of the side of the chair, moving it towards her throbbing pussy.

“That’s it, Y/N. Touch yourself where you want me to touch you.”

Her hand traveled towards the heat between her legs. This was embarrassing, she knew that. But at this point she didn’t give a shit, she’d do anything if it meant she could have a small part of Harry as an end result.

Her finger touched her clit gently, resisting a moan.

“Now touch yourself.” He said, “Touch yourself the way you to when you’re lying in bed at night thinking of me.”

That sentence alone made her want to combust. The things this man were doing to her with his just words were insane.

“Do it, Y/N. Do it if you want me.”

She listened. Of course she fucking listened.

She placed two fingers on her throbbing bud and began to move them in slow circles. She’d always start slow, moving her fingers at a steady pace to create intensity, and when she grew hungrier, she’d speed up the pace.

Harry watched her fingers move against her clit, covered in the wetness of her arousal. His dick was rock hard in his pants as she watched her head throw back against the chair with a loud moan.

“That’s it, Y/N.” He said, “Oh, you have no idea how this makes me feel… Watching you jack yourself off like this…”

“Oh! Harry!” She moaned, her hands moving faster.

He was almost drooling watching her. Between her fingers in her pussy, the moans coming from her mouth and that look on her face, he was loosing it all together.

“Stop.” He said bluntly.

Her hands stopped moving, and she looked at him. Nervousness was present all over her features. She went to pull her skirt back down, but she stopped him.

“I think it’s time for you to finish some of these emails, huh?” He smirked.

He teased her while he spoke, running his hand from the bottom of her thigh all the way to half an inch below the ache between her legs.

“And while you get your work done like the good little employee that you are… I’ll sort out your payment.”

His eyes stared hungrily at her dripping pussy.

“And maybe if you finish the email, I’ll let you cum.”

“Harry, please.” She moaned. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“My sweet girl. If you don’t type out that email you won’t be cumming at all. And if you don’t cum then I’m going to get you to sit your cute little ass on that chair and watch me jack off on your desk wishing that my cock was inside you instead of my own hand.” He said, “Now, we don’t want that to happen, do we?”

“No.” She replied.

“No, sir.”

“No, sir.” She corrected herself, swallowing.

Harry’s attention turned back to her pussy, his lips kissing up her thigh.

“The emails, Y/N.” He reminded her.

He slowly heard the keys be pressed on the keyboard, her legs twitching as his mouth moved further and further upwards. However the cry that left this girls mouth as his tongue came in contact with her clit was a sound that would be engrained in his memory for the rest of his life. Fuck porn, all he needed to jack off from now on was the memory of the sound she made as she fell apart at his touch.

“Harry. Fuck.”

His tongue moved in circles on her clit, pressing down hard.

That was until he heard the keys stop moving. So he stopped moving too.

“If you stop, I stop. You know the rules, honey.”

“Harry, please.” She begged, “Need you so bad.”

“I said you know the rules.”

“Please, Sir.”

“Type, Y/N.”

The keys moved on the laptop again. But she wasn’t entirely sure that the words being typed were actually words at all. But as soon as the keys started to move again, Harry kept his word, returning to his own work.

He moved faster, his mouth attacking her sweet pussy at a rate he didn’t think he’d ever went at before. Licking and sucking at her perfect clit while one hand palmed the erection in his pants to try his best to ease some tension.

His tongue moved away from her clit and he replaced it with two fingers, rubbing circles on her swollen bud while his mouth attacked her entrance, fucking her with his tongue.

“Fuck.” She screamed, “Fuck, I’m so close. Please, I need to cum. I’ve finished typing the email. Sir, make me cum, please.”

He kept going. He didn’t give a fuck if she’d finished the email or not at this point. The only thing on this man’s feral mind was to make her cum all over his face. He wanted to taste her sweetness while the sounds of her crying his name filled the office they were in.

When she soon cried out that she was cumming, he made careful care to make sure he was lapping up every sweet juice from her pussy. He was so feral over this woman it was becoming a problem. His dick was so hard he felt like he was going insane.

“You taste so good, my sweet girl.” He said, “Do you know how it makes me feel to hear you scream my name over and over again? Makes me so fucking hard, Y/N.”

He stood up and took her hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants.

“I think it’s time we deal with this, hm?”

She nodded in agreement.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me already, let’s keep this up, okay? You’re going to go into my office, and by the time I get in there I expect you to be stripped and waiting for me, understood?”

She nodded, eyes wide as she looked up at him. However wasted no time going into his private office.

Fucking Harry in his own office had always been a fantasy of hers, and now it was finally coming true.

Harry on the other hand couldn’t think straight. The amount of lust and desire he had in this moment was clouding any thoughts he had apart from how badly he wanted to fuck her right now. When he made his way into his office he was completely stopped in his tracks by her. Her clothes were sprawled over the floor of his workspace, and there she was, leaning against his desk like someone sent from his own personal dream girl wonderland.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He said as he walked over to her, “I have wanted you naked in my office for so long, Y/N. Every time you come into work and let me see these gorgeous tits through one of your revealing little dresses or shirts it makes me so hard.”

He took one of her breasts in his hand, placing his lips against it, while he snaked his other arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.

He sucked several deep marks over both of her breasts, mumbling about how hot she was, and how perfect her tits were.

He began to mindlessly grinned his erection against her while he kissed her naked body, groaning into her skin.

“Harry.” She moaned. “Please. Please fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, huh? You want my dick?”

She nodded, desperately.

“Turn around and bend over my desk.” Harry demanded, unbuckling his belt, and sliding his pants down his legs.

He watched as she bent over for him, her perfect little ass in the air just for him.

“Oh look at you, Y/N.” He said, “Bent over my desk for me like this. So obedient, hm? An obedient little whore.”

He took his rock hard dick in one hand, pumping it a few times to get himself ready.

She moaned at his words.

“Do you like that, Y/N? When I call you a whore? Are you my little slut, Y/N?”

She moaned, desperate for him.

“Yes, Sir.” She cried, “I’m your whore.”

Without any warning, Harry pushed his dick inside of her, moaning as his cock pushed into her cunt.

She cried his name louder than ever before as he tore her open. He was so fucking big that it was slightly painful, but she didn’t care. It was the best pain she’d ever felt in her life.

“I’ve never fucked anyone as tight as this, Y/N. But I’ll loosen you up in no time with you bent over my desk like this.”

“Harry you’re so big.”

“But you can take it,” He said, “Be a good little slut and take my cock like a good girl.”

He groaned as his cock pushed all the way into her, giving her a few moments to adjust to his size.

“Wanna stay like this forever,” He groaned, “My fat cock buried in your sweet cunt.”

She moaned loudly.

Harry took both of her hands, using one hand to hold her wrists behind her back, his other hand holding onto the desk for extra support.

“I’m gonna start moving now. But you can take it, can’t you? A good fuckin’ slut for me.”

She cried out when his hips started to move, her head falling backwards with her wrists still restrained behind her back.

“Oh you’re so tight, Y/N. Gonna fill your pussy up with cum in no time.” He groaned.

“Oh… God, Oh fuck, yes!” She moaned as the speed of Harry’s hips increased, crashing against her in a desperate, rough manner.

He dropped her wrists, and her hands grabbed onto the desk, and instead grabbed a bundle of her hair, wrapping it around his hand, pulling her head backwards. She cried out with pleasure as he fucked her harder, the whole office filled with nothing but the sound of their skin hitting one another, and their bordering pornographic moans.

“Fuck, Harry.” She cried, “I’m so close.”

His mind was foggy. The only real thing in his mind right now was the feeling of his dick inside her, how he wanted to feel her cum on his cock and how he wanted to fill her pussy up with his release. He was feral for her.

“You make me crazy, Y/N,” He groaned, “‘M gonna fill you up with my cum.”

“Keep going, just like that.” She moaned, “I’m so close.”

He knew as soon as she had reached her orgasm. Y/N cried out with these heavenly moans as her walls clenched around his cock, cumming all over him.

The tightness of her made Harry unable to hold on for much longer, reaching his own release, moaning into her shoulder as his cum dripped down Y/N’s legs, his cock still inside her.

“Harry…” She moaned.

“I know, gorgeous. I know.” He said, “So fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

He pulled out of her, ignoring the state of mess that the office was now in.

“How am I supposed to go to work normally when I know I’d rather be fucking your pretty little cunt every day, hm?”

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi fawn! hope you're doing ok

so, sunshine!reader and post prison!spencer, but r is all serious during work situations and spencer only finds out about this sunshiney side over their time together ☝️

Spencer thinks you’re a hardass and he likes it, but he’d be a horrible profiler if he didn’t realize that there was more under the surface.

You’re rigid and unmoving in most everything you do in the field, and you’re never wrong. But the minute it’s not work, you’re lighter in a way he can’t put into words.

Spencer notices what he terms, ‘the changes,’ during your mornings.

You’ll make his coffee the way he likes it and set it on his desk, or you’ll bring extra of whatever you baked over the weekend for him and the office.

Also, on some occasions you walk in on the phone with this grin that he swears lights up the whole room and your voice light and sweet as whipped sugar.

He’s fond of those mornings for your smile but he’s also raging jealous, that much he can admit to himself, of whoever is on the other end of the phone making you smile like that.

“Morning, Spence.” You’re late today, only two minutes but over the year you’ve worked there Spencer knows you hate it.

Maybe it’s why your face is set in a serious frown as you set your bags down. When you yawn and stretch he thinks maybe not.

“Hi, how was your first night back on Eastern Standard time?”

You sigh, headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. “Hell. I didn’t realize I’d be that jet lagged.”

Spencer coos something adorable, you feel it in your chest. He’s quite possibly the sweetest man you’ve ever met.

It’s possibly why you allowed yourself to get so close to him, why you’d become friends with Spencer and why you’re leaning into him as he stands next to you, your temple hovering over his shoulder.

He can smell your perfume this close and only hopes that it rubs off onto his shirt. It’s a scent so much like yourself he wonders if you realized that when you’d bought it.

It’s spicy and then after a couple seconds, amber and vanilla and something floral he can’t place takes over- it’s exactly you.

Spencer spots the change in demeanor the second on of the newbies pass by, the way you stand straighter and lean away from his space a little.

Still, he trails a hand from his side to the small of your back, a shiver racing down your spine as his hand touches you. Spencer bites back a smile- always pleased to be reminded by how he affects you the way you do him.

“Maybe if we’ve not got much going on here I can drive you home early.” The words are soft enough only you hear them, and there’s a touch of something you can place in his voice. Adoration? Love? You really shouldn’t assume.

“If Emily approves it.”

Spencer shrugs, mixing your coffee the way you like and handing you the warm mug, handle out towards you. “Or I can get you home first and tell you her you weren’t feeling well.”

You narrow your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee, relief and comfort flowing through you as your shoulders sag. Even you can’t quite make your coffee this well.

“Ask permission later, essentially?” You tease, Spencer smiles, a private smile only for you as you start making your way back to your desks together.

“For you? Yeah. She won’t mind either way.” It’s true, but the idea of Spencer possibly getting in trouble or going over Emily’s head to take care of you does make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You flirt too much,” you say with a smile. Spencer hasn’t even shown you the half of it. “C’mon, I wanna hear my morning facts about orcas and ladybugs. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Spencer touches your shoulda as he gets past you, just to get his insect book and the orca book he’d gotten just for you. “Oh I’d never, honey.”

[lo1k-diamonds]

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1

“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)

A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.

“Hyung.”

He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.

“Go home, get some sleep.”

Taehyung flinched, “But—”

“That’s an order, Officer.”

Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.

He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.

No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.

This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.

“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”

Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.

“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”

Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.

When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.

He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.

He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.

“I want to see the boss.”

The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”

“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”

The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.

The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I have to make sure.”

Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.

“Alright, you can go in.”

He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.

“Follow me.”

Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.

“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”

Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.

Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”

Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.

“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.

He focused, “I want your help.”

Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”

Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”

Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”

“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.

“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”

He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.

He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.” 

It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.

“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”

His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”

He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”

“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”

“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”

That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.

“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.

“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”

He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”

He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”

He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”

“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”

For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.

“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”

His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.

“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”

He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”

“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”

He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.

“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”

“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.

“Something illegal, no doubt.”

You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.

“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”

“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”

Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.

You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”

He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.

“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”

He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.

“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”

You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”

He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.

“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”

He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”

You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”

He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.

“On your knees, Chief.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.

When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.

“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.

He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?

A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.

You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.

You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.

“The things you do for duty, Chief…”

His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you. 

It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next. 

Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.

“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you. 

You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.

“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.

You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.

Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.

You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.

You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking. 

You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.

Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”

His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.

“Maybe next time.”

[moniericreative]

The Saddest Tragedy of 2/2; Damned Regardless of Choice

Wasn't sure if anyone else already talked about this, but after going through the Persona 5 Royal Artbook a while back, and again recently... Something about the whole situation just really struck with me.

Obviously, spoiler warnings ahead for Persona 5 Royal, specifically Third Semester's Februrary 2nd.

So, unsurprisingly, I'm referring to Maruki's Deal.

It's a common interpretation that Akechi's 100% gung-ho against it.

But there's two separate moments that show a rare bit of... Wavering in his resolve.

The first is the Phantom Thieves meeting in Maruki's office with Lavenza:

Out of all of the Phantom Thieves, the only one to play devil's advocate and remind the group that Maruki's actions benefit them too is... Akechi, of all people. Not Joker, not Makoto, not Lavenza or anyone else.

It's solely Akechi who brings that fact up.

In the same meeting, beforehand he was very upfront and crass about how manipulative Maruki was being, and how the man played the other thieves like a fiddle...

And yet he says this in spite of all that.

There was no reason or prompting for him to, and Ryuji even rejects him politely afterwards too.

So surely this was just an off-line of simple pragmatism, right?

Well, here comes moment number 2, in one of the optional Jazz Jin hangouts you can get with him:

He plays it off as some idle food for thought with no deeper meaning, but... It's Akechi. He usually doesn't just say things just to say them.

There's always a hidden meaning to his words.

It's pretty obvious he's referencing his space in the Phantom Thieves, a group that's civil with him but doesn't particularly have any inclination to be friends with him... But it does beg a question...

Is he happy? Now that he's no longer being controlled by Shido, or burdened by a lifelong revenge?

By the sheer existence of this conversation at all, directed only towards Joker and in a place that he's comfortable in (second to Leblanc) it's pretty safe to say he is, but has reservations about it (i.e. 'If their happiness hinges on the group's unhappiness.')

Now where does the artbook come in? Well, inside the P5R artbook, there's a handful of interviews that expand on some parts of the Royal exclusive content.

(Big thanks to Violet for compiling and translating them, you can find her whole thread here > https://x.com/wiowe/status/1776225719661547663)

What was the one bit that stuck with me?

Per Violet's translation:

Creator's Comment: "When I think about how Akechi's wish is to play chess with the protagonist after school, I want to tell him 'You like the protagonist after all, don't you?'"

Akechi's Wish.

He has a wish that Maruki actually does grant him, and it's to essentially be friends with Joker. It's mutual to Joker's own wish to be friends with him.

So add up the context of all three, and it paints a very depressing picture already:

Akechi is genuinely happy for once in his life, but doesn't think he deserves it at the cost of everyone else's. It runs opposite to his own sense of Justice, and his negative views on himself as a "cursed child," and that fuels him to keep denying it.

So with him being split between the two sentiments... It's unsurprising that he would rely heavily on Joker to make the ultimate decision; Whether to accept, or to deny. Because he himself can't, and Maruki knows full well of that.

Sure, he keeps pushing Joker to deny Maruki... But why?

Is it because what Maruki's doing is wrong, and he needs to be stopped? Is it the closest thing to a punishment for all of his actions, which has been constantly denied to him up to this point? Is it the closest thing to a confirmation that he's undeserving of such happiness, especially with how much blood is on his hands?

Who knows.

So how does any of this tie into Maruki's Deal on 2/2? Isn't Rejecting a false reality the obvious choice here?

Well... It's simple.

You're not really picking between a true reality and a false one.

You're picking between:

The acknowledgement of Akechi's growth (Hereward), the righteousness he carries as The Justice arcana, and his freedom from being under someone else's control his whole life.

And this:

Think about it. Maruki gives you multiple opportunities to accept his reality, and they become increasingly personal to Joker with each one.

First is the happiness of the general public.

Second it's the happiness of the other Phantom Thieves, especially Sumire.

Then finally, it's the happiness of both Joker and Akechi.

If the first two couldn't sway Joker's decision, why would the third?

Because you want Akechi to be happy and no longer suffering. You're the one in control of making that decision as the player, remember?

And both he and Joker are also fully aware of that, given how they look back at you in the "Accept" ending.

Not to mention in spite of how he reverts back to his "Detective Prince" mannerisms, almost as if he was a different person entirely... We never actually get any indication that he goes off to fight Maruki alone, or try to fix everything himself, do we?

Sure, he says "... Well. I have your answer. There's nothing left I can say. Our deal's off."

There's no anger, betrayal, shock, or even hurt in his voice. Just quiet acceptance because after all they've gone through together, he knows Joker wouldn't lie about that.

But what can he say? Once again, you've exceeded his expectations.

And once again, he's left as speechless as his "you really are..." moments.

You chose him over a "true reality." You told him to his face that he matters, you accept him as he is in spite of everything he's done, and you want to keep spending time with him as equals. As friends.

It's a truth he has to accept, even if it conflicts with his image of himself. He's wanted by someone else, for the first time in his life.

Of course he has no need for a deal anymore. They were always the closest things he was willing to get to a friendship, without establishing a close tie that could potentially hurt him in the end.

Why would he need one when you chose your bond over all else?

You proved to his face that it's not just some temporary truce with mutual benefits. It's a genuine bond for both parties, not just to him.

Ultimately though... You're the one stuck between two choices for him:

Forsake Akechi's happiness, and finally being wanted for who he is and not whatever pleasant image or service he can provide.

Forsake his freedom, and all the growth and accountability he's accumulated thus far from his own sins.

This teenage boy is damned regardless of the decision you make. All because a man with a Jehova complex noticed that he matters to Joker (and by extension you as the player), and uses him as an ultimatum to get Joker (and you) to comply.

All because said man is well-aware that Akechi's actual fate is vague. Did he live? Did he die? Who knows, neither he or Akechi actually confirm it. They just dance around the subject and leave the assumption up to you. But he'll take full advantage of the vagueness to justify his actions to you, and show why his goals and yours are "truly in alignment."

And the worst part is that Maruki's doing this with a genuine intent to make his life happier afterwards, much like youself. It's not out of malice, or a sick sense of delight, or with the airs of playing god.

He's distorted. He's a man with good intentions that have become so distorted that he inadvertently perverses the very desire to do good for the world.

And just like Shido, and Yaldaboath, before him...

Akechi's the number one casualty.

You're just forced to decide which part of him the gun is aimed at this time.

Because this boy can't have both. It's one or the other.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Warnings: Power imbalance, Yelling. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"For the last time, Hansen, NO! We have these regulations for a reason." Levinson was yet again regretting hiring Lloyd. There's no denying the man got results but were the results worth the cost of dealing with the man? He'll have to get some of his analysts take a look. He doesn't even have to ask and he knows Raymond, his assistant, has made note to ask them.

"It's a bullshit regulation," Lloyd argues. "There's one IT person who can work with me, why the hell wouldn't they be the one to go with me on this trip? You've always been okay with us bringing some tech head in case our company electronics have problems."

"Yes, but that's for experienced tech employees," Jonathan intervenes. "This young lady has been working with us for only a few weeks. She is very skilled, yes, but---"

"And she's the only one of your team that isn't a pompous ass," Lloyd sneers. Ari, Jonathan and Raymond all give him a look. "Yeah, I know I'm a pompous ass. It's why I don't work well with those other assholes."

Ari sighs, "still, we can't have such a new employee going on a trip. You're going to take a more experienced IT member or you will take no one."

Lloyd huffs before stomping out of the CEO's office.

The project for the CFO is taking up a lot of your time but you're grateful for having something to focus on between tickets. Working with people was never your strong suit and those tickets can be draining.

Except for the ones from Hansen, funny enough. While you understand why others don't like to work with him, you're grateful that he leaves you be. He doesn't pester you with questions or offer advice that you have to pretend is good. He doesn't talk about his life's story or complain about "technology these days" that you have to half listen to so as not to appear rude. He lets you work, get in the zone, and you can get the ticket completed without feeling drained afterwards.

He seems like the naturally loud and demanding type so the fact that he's quiet when you work really means something to you. And he always follows it up with praising your work. The nickname "Maestro" seems to have stuck with the rest of the IT crew and it's really helped you feel more like you belong. You're genuinely grateful to Lloyd for that.

Almost as if your thoughts made him manifest, Lloyd enters your cubicle and sets his laptop next to you.

"Hey there, Maestro," Lloyd smiles. "My laptop is acting up. Take a look at it for me, will ya?"

"Um, Mr. Hansen, Sir, did you submit a ticket?"

Lloyd's smile drops. "If I did that, it might not get assigned to you. This way we can work around that requirement and spend some more time together."

"I'm, I'm sorry, Sir," you shake your head. "You have to submit the ticket. It's regulation."

"What the hell is with everyone and these damn regulations?!"

"I could get in trouble, Sir," you explain. "If I fix your laptop without submitting a ticket, that's work time that I can't account for. In other cases, Sir, if something goes wrong with company property, they need to know who was responsible for fixing it. If I fix your laptop but the fix doesn't work, there's a gap in that item's history that could throw off future updates. I really don't want to get in trouble, Mr. Hansen." You look up at him, eyes pleading.

He sighs, "well, can't have a good girl like you getting in trouble on my account, huh?" You try to hide your reaction to being called a good girl but Lloyd gives you a look before grinning at you. "Did you like that?" His voice is low and he brings himself to your level so he's right next to your ear. "Do you like being a good girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir," you confess.

He chuckles, "I'll remember that, Maestro." He grabs his laptop and gives you a wink before sauntering out.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

[rottenpumpkin13]

what does lazard do during his free time (like the 5 minutes the trio doesn't make a scene and cause him to shatter a wine glass)

*Lazard's break timer goes off*

Lazard: Finally.

*He pulls out a magazine when Genesis barges into his office*

Lazard: Oh, Genesis I'm very sorry, but I'm on my break—

Genesis: If I don't vent to someone about why I'm mad at Angeal in the next five minutes while eating a fruit snack, I will set Sephiroth's hair on fire.

Lazard, panicking: THEY'RE IN THE DRAWER

(Later)

*Lazard's break timer goes off again*

Lazard: At long last.

*He pulls out his "plans to kill President Shinra and take over the company" folder when Angeal walks into his office*

Lazard: Angeal, I enjoy your presence dearly, but I'm on my break.

Angeal: Don't worry, I was just wondering if you had any tips on how now to kill Genesis.

Lazard: Oh for the love of—just sit down and have a fruit snack.

(Much later)

*Lazard's break timer goes off again*

Lazard: Thank the gods.

*He pulls out a video game when Sephiroth walks in*

Lazard: CAN I NOT HAVE A MINUTE OF PEACE? WHAT'S WRONG? ARE YOU ALSO MAD AT ANGEAL? ARE YOU MAD AT GENESIS? DO YOU WANT A FRUIT SNACK??

Sephiroth: No, I just came here because I want to spend time with you.

Lazard: Oh. Oh you poor thing. I should have expected better from you. I'm sorry, Sephiroth.

Sephiroth: I also came here to report that Angeal and Genesis got into a fight and blew up the training room again.

Lazard: ALWKSHAAJSHAHSKSKAR

Sephiroth: I'll have that fruit snack now.

[synthetickitsune]

hoshi,,,blind date,,,fluff

Hoshi (SVT) | Blind date fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

The evening was… nice.

And that’s about all that you can say about it.

Honestly that is in part why you seldom say yes to blind dates. But since your one-plus-one deal coworker and trusted friend in one insisted you and their other friend Soonyoung should give it a try, you eventually agreed.

There was nothing wrong with him. He was nice. A little awkward, his shyness matching yours, but you didn’t mind much. He was laughing at your jokes a little too hard, but it was endearing. The conversation flowed well, he was kind, funny. Nice.  

Not to mention handsome. Maybe slightly cuter than a guy has any business being, but it works so well for him. It’s very charming, actually.

But for a date, it was nothing special - which is to be expected, of course. It was obvious he liked you, as much as you could like little more than a stranger, which made him less of a social butterfly than he is at the office (at least from what you could tell from his stories). You’re sure that the next date would be better since you’d be more familiar with each other, but honestly… Is it worth it? Perhaps you had too high expectations after a long and tiring week, just craving something magical to make the struggle worth it.

You feel slightly guilty for feeling that way when Soonyoung has been nothing but sweet the whole time, even now as you’re strolling along the river with the setting sun shining down on you, he’s great. It’s quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet. You’re grateful for the brief pause in conversation as you sip on the cold drink in your hand. 

The park on your other side is getting empty, but there’s still plenty of people chatting on the blankets having a late picnic. The insects are buzzing, the water is rippling. It all makes up a nice ambiance of dying summer.

While you’re pondering the pros and cons of a second date, the kids in front of you finally talk their parents into buying them some ice cream. Just as you’re passing by them, the youngest one tries to run away from its siblings and the ice cream suddenly splatters on the ground as they wobble. The kid looks at the mess like it’s the biggest tragedy to ever befall mankind.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from laughing. Soonyoung next to you isn’t so successful.

He starts walking faster, about to burst, and his barely contained laughter only makes it that much more difficult for you so you match his pace, and then all it takes for you to lose it is one glance at each other. At least you’re out of earshot of the parents fussing over the kid.

“It’s not nice,” a shaky breath interrupted by laughter, “To laugh at something like that.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you don’t take the scolding to heart, instead you try to calm your breathing. Which just makes Soonyoung laugh harder, which in turn makes you laugh again.

“We’re really messing up our karmas,” he finally manages to say relatively calmly after a couple minutes. He wipes at his eyes quickly and you take the opportunity to do the same.

“I’m so glad you started laughing first,” you take a deep breath, “I thought you’d judge me.”

“Never!” his hand shoots up to clutch at his chest as he acts all offended.

“Are you sure?” you tease, “I’d be very disappointed if that was a lie.”

“My sense of humor is really childish,” he waves you off. His ears look a little red. Soonyoung really is a bit too cute. And you still don’t mind.

“Yeah? Give me your worst joke,” And that challenge is your undoing. 

How you got here, sitting by the river and leaning on Soonyoung because you’re laughing so hard, you have no idea. It’s a blur - and the memory is filled by too many jokes that would just make your cheeks hurt more. He really wasn’t kidding, the jokes are bad. Horrible. Childish. And exactly your taste. And just what you both needed to relax and be comfortable apparently.

Somehow you’re still sitting there when the sky gets dark, just talking. The contrast of before and now is night and day. Suddenly you’re reluctant to leave even though you really should. And your date doesn’t seem too excited about the idea of leaving either - not even after you already scheduled another date.

Although you think just one more won’t be enough.

[morganaspendragonss]

you only see the light shine in dark times

5.01 has apparently given me inspiration again we love to see it! enjoy! ao3 | 1k | 5.01 coda, angst and hurt/comfort

He’s grown used to it by now, to Carlos rushing off in the middle of lunch dates and coming home in the middle of the night. He’s grown used to the thousand-yard stares and the constant presence of that case looming over them. He’s grown used to sleeping alone.

But it still hurts. It still aches something deep within TK when he spends yet another night with only Lou Two for company. He could invite people over, the crew, his dad, but he doesn’t want them to know that this is what his life – his marriage – has become. They wouldn’t understand, and he thinks perhaps his dad would understand a little too well, which is an uncomfortable thought.

Not that his marriage is going to end up like his parents’. TK won’t let it. And he is proud of Carlos; deeply, wholly, overwhelmingly so. Seeing him on the news tonight, standing at the chief’s right hand, the youngest Ranger in the line-up by far, had sent a pulse of love and pride directly to TK’s heart, where it still sits, beating strongly away. He loves Carlos for his dedication to his work, and he wouldn’t have him any other way.

But he would have him at home.

The loft isn’t a big place, smaller even than his New York apartment, but right now it feels cavernous, yawning around him. He can almost hear the echo of his feet on the concrete as he sets Lou back in his tank and clears up for the night. The remaining peppers go in the fridge, alongside the leftovers of a dinner he’d made last night in the foolish hope that they could share a full meal together without worrying about call-outs or cases. Instead, TK had been left with too much chicken pasta and Carlos had eaten vending machine energy bars and peanuts.

TK doesn’t fully trust that he won’t do the same tonight, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, except leave the light by the window on. He imagines it’s a beacon, a sole light in the dark, and he imagines that Carlos can see it from his office all the way across town. 

Come home, he thinks, wishes, prays. Come home to me.

Even after he gets in bed, he always tries to stay up for a while, waiting to hear the door rolling along the tracks, Carlos shuffling about, the click of the lamp being turned off. It’s a rare occasion, but it’s happened once or twice, and TK likes to feign sleep until Carlos is finally settled next to him. Then, he’ll pretend to stir, just a little, and he’ll roll over to pull him close.

Tonight, as with most nights, he doesn’t make it, though he’s not sure what time it is when he finally falls asleep. All he knows is that it’s late and Carlos still hasn’t come home.

*

While nights are an ever rarer privilege, TK can usually count on at least a few minutes with his husband in the mornings. Which is why he panics this morning, when he wakes up not to Carlos in bed with him, but to coldness on the other side of the bed. It’s happened before when he’s overslept after a long or late shift, but yesterday’s was neither, and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s not even seven yet. If Carlos hasn’t come home… But he has to have come home, because who will TK call now that Gabriel is gone? 

His phone is in his hand anyway before he’s managed to disentangle himself from the bedsheets, but it’s proved unnecessary a second later. The bedroom door slides open and Carlos appears on the other side, smiling despite the exhaustion lying heavy across his features. 

“Hey, I thought I heard you,” he says, coming to sit on the bed next to TK. He puts a hand on TK’s knee, his thumb rubbing gently across the skin. “You look upset, what’s going on?”

TK waits before answering. It’s a difficult question to answer these days; he can’t let Carlos know what’s really wrong because that… Well, that’s an argument he doesn’t want to have just yet. 

“Nothing,” he decides. “Just, weird dreams, you know. What time did you get in last night?”

Carlos’s expression shutters and he pulls his hand back, ostensibly to look at his watch. “Uhh, no idea. I stopped for something to eat on the way, so.”

“Good.”

The silence that falls between them is tense, awkward in a way it so rarely is between them. TK doesn’t know how to fix this, doesn’t know when it broke in the first place. It was gradual, cracks forming with every missed dinner and late night. Sometimes it feels like the only thing connecting them is that light by the window, left on as a sign that there is someone to come home to. 

Carlos sucks in a deep breath and TK turns to him, already knowing what he’ll say. 

“I was just about to head out, wanted to see you before I left. You should go back to sleep.” He pats TK’s knee again and makes to stand, but TK snatches his hand before he can fully pull away. 

“I’m awake now,” he tries, pouring as much love as he can into the words. “Maybe I can drive you to work, we can pick up some breakfast on the way? I’ll pick you up when you finish.”

Carlos smiles, but it’s small and regretful. “I already ate, and I don’t want to bother you on your day off.”

“It’s not–”

“Besides, I might stay late again,” Carlos interrupts. “I’m not sure, but I have to keep working on this, TK. I can’t– I couldn’t forgive myself if I stopped.”

TK nods. “I understand.”

And he does. He does. Still. His heart sinks as he lets go of Carlos, allowing him to stand up and leave.

“I’ll leave a light on for you,” he calls out as Carlos reaches the door. “I love you.”

Carlos turns back once, smiles. “Love you.”

Then he’s gone, and TK is alone again.

[billybutcherrtrash]

It’s a Cover

Requested by @bohemianblasphemy

You sat beside Billy, shifting awkwardly as you looked around the room. You hadn’t expected to see so many familiar faces who didn’t even remember you. Billy smirked as he nudged your arm.

“S’matter love, none of these fucks are even paying attention to us.” He asked.

You scowled at him, “I can’t breathe in this dress.”

The dress Annie has picked out left little to the imagination and felt like it was squeezing your ribs. It was an emerald green that she said matched your eyes. That paired with the ridiculous shoes Kimiko had chosen were going to be the death of you.

“But ya look like a treat.” He winked at you.

“Can we just do what we came for?” You asked, as he slid his arm around you. “And stop staring at my boobs.”

His touched sent chills over your skin and caused you to tense.

“Gotta keep up appearances.” Billy grinned.

“My boobs are not for your entertainment.”

“Can ya blame me?” He smirked.

He guided you down a hallway, arm holding you tightly against him.

“Must be nice covered neck to toe.” You said, still annoyed you were the one showing so much skin.

“Well, take it off and we can switch.” Billy teased.

You elbowed him, more annoyed now.

“Should be right back here somewhere.” He said, his hand squeezing your hip.

Nothing in the tower was familiar, not having been on this floor when you worked for Vaught. Annie has told you exactly where to find Ashley’s office to plant devices. Sure enough you’d found the door you’d been promised was there. You pushed the door open, Billy close behind and headed straight for her desk. You bent down and picked up her pencil cup, placing one under it while Billy placed a few more around the room.

“These cunts are terrible at security.” Billy mused as she stepped closer to you.

“You’d think not, but it’s mainly on the lower floors. Mostly at check in and the doors.”

Your eyes move to meet Billy’s, only to find him staring at your body. You shifted awkwardly, not sure what to say. You hadn’t noticed before but he looked good when he was cleaned up and in a suit. His hair was slicked back and he had trimmed his beard for this. You shivered as you realized you were feeling something other than anxiety as he continued to stare.

“I, um…uh…should…” You stammered to think of a sentence, causing Billy to smirk.

“What’s wrong, little Dove? You enjoying the idea that I’m enjoying the idea of you?” He asked, stepping closer.

You swallowed, completely braindead at the words he’d just spoken. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer. You hadn’t realized you were even freezing until you felt his warmth pressed against you.

“We’re on a mission.” You said, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, technically.” He agreed.

His face moved to be inches from yours, your heart pounding in your chest.

“This couple…thing is just a cover.”

“Doesn’t feel like a cover.” Billy shrugged.

You barely had a chance to think before Billy pulled you into a kiss just as the door flew open and Ashley barged in.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” She yelled, gawking at the scene before her.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry, love. This little lady couldn’t wait until we got home.” Billy grinned smugly.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” Ashley yelled.

You giggled a little and headed for the door. Billy followed as you headed for the nearest elevator. You spammed the button, as if it would make it come any quicker. The two of you fell into the small box, giggling. Billy pressed the lobby button and turned to you.

“Well, dodged that bullet.” He smirked.

“How did you know she was coming?” You asked.

“What? I didn’t.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought that’s why you…?”

The ride down was quiet as you realized he didn’t kiss you because he knew Ashley was coming. You made your way outside and to the car, getting in quietly. Neither of you spoke the whole way back to the flatiron apartment. Billy let you in first, following you in. You quickly rushed to the bathroom to change out of the dress, careful not to damage it. Finally you emerged in your street clothes, finding Billy had undone his tie and it hung loosely on his shoulders. You couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. Had he always been this attractive?

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked softly.

He gave a weak smile and nodded, “Course, love.”

You started for the door, ready to be home and process what had happened.

“You looked beautiful tonight, really.” Billy called after you causing you to stop and turn.

A small smile played at your lips, “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Tomorrow. Let me know you got home safe?”

“Or you could walk me.” You said as you took a few steps back.

“I can definitely do that.” He grinned.

[bellysoupset]

Posting this and running away

---------------------------------

"What is this?" Jonah chuckled, gesturing vaguely to the image in front of him. This was easily the weirdest thing he had seen in a while.

Leo was inside the bathtub, with no water, in the middle of the day, wearing just his boxers, head leaning back and scrolling in his ipad.

"Hey," the blonde turned his head slightly, voice all soft, "missed you."

How could Jon not melt around this man? He entered further in the bathroom, crouching down to kiss his fiancé and Leo grimaced and pulled back, causing Jonah to whine, "what the hell?"

"You don't wanna kiss me," Leo cringed, "I ate something weird and it messed with me. I just puked," he gestured vaguely to the closed toilet with his head. Jonah raised his eyebrows, surprised.

Leo didn't look sick... But now that Jon looked closer he could tell the sweat clinging to his temples and over his lip. Instead of pale, he was flushed in a slightly unnatural way, specially given how cold their bathroom was.

"Is that why you're in the tub?"

"Yeah, still feel pukey," Leo groaned and slid down in the tub, resting his feet on the opposite end and dropping his ipad to the side. Now that it was no longer blocking Jonah's view, he could tell his fiance's abs were slightly bloated, the usual line separating its quadrants all but faded, "I don't know what's wrong with my office, you'd think such a fancy building would have a decent catering."

Jonah grinned, collapsing down on his ass instead of staying crouched down and leaned in to push Leo's hair back, away from his sweaty forehead. The blonde let out a happy noise at the hair pet, "why don't you come to bed? You can feel sick in the bedroom, where it's comfy."

Leo snorted at that, turning his head so his cheek was pressed to the cold rim of the tub and going boneless as Jonah petted his hair, "bedroom feels too warm, was making me claustrophobic."

"And the bathtub is not?"

"You may question my methods, but not my results," Leo smiled, looking up at him and grabbing the ditched iPad, "I want a March wedding."

"Okay?" Jon moved on the bathroom floor, stripping the thick wool vest he was wearing over his shirt and removing his belt so he was more comfortable, throwing them on top of the sink, "why March?"

"Because I don't wanna wait until October next year," Leo pouted, turning on the screen. Before Jon could question why March and October were the only options, Leo said, "I made a pinterest board."

Jonah couldn't stop smiling, it was embarrassing and hurting his cheek muscles, "you made a pinterest board," he echoed, amused and endeared to hell and back. Leo glared at him, pushing the iPad in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with this stupid smile and look at the board," he tapped the screen, then curled up with a grimace and planted a hand on his stomach, pressing slightly and bringing up a sick burp, "god..."

"Should I move from the line of fire?" Jonah squinted at Leo, noticing the way he was gulping down.

The man shook his head, taking another gulp, "swallowing air," he cleared up, "not gagging."

"Counter intuitive if your stomach hurts, no?"

"Trying to burp," Leo cleared up with a strained voice, digging his fingers in his tummy, until another little sickly burp came up, "urgh, it's stuck."

"My husband, the romantic," Jonah teased him with an eyeroll, then scooted closer, "sit up, let me thump your back."

"Like a baby?" Leo snorted, but obeyed and let out a pleased noise as Jonah started doing exactly that. A couple pats in and he brought up a large, brassy belch.

"UUruorup- Fuck, that felt nice," he hung his head between his knees, breathing out in relief, "look at the board."

"Bossy," Jonah glared at the side of his head, then actually looked at the board. It was a collection of farmhouse weddings and hotels and event-centers... None of it looked very Leo, "uhm- these are the ones you liked?"

"You hate them," Leo sighed, "I don't know, everything I'm able to find is either those ultra girly things that only Wendy could like or, if I search for gay-wedding, it's like they're competing to see who can be more cringy."

Jonah cackled at the bitchiness, earning himself a smile, "this is nice," he leaned against the tub, all but sprawled on the bathroom floor and pointing a picture of a tall, reflective ballroom. Leo draped himself over the edge, squinting at the screen.

"That's a cathedral, Jonah," Leo said dryly, "I'm not gonna get married in a church, thanks."

Jon let out a scoff, "it's in your board!"

"As inspiration! Because I like-" he cut himself off with a nauseated gulp, "the-the tall ceilings..." Leo's voice trailed off and he raised a hand to his mouth, the other one darting up so Jonah could help him up.

Jon was up in a flash, grabbing Leo's hand to hoist him up and leaving the iPad on top of their sink, while the blonde fell to his knees before the toilet and gagged weakly over the water.

He cringed in sympathy as Leo retched and a thin dribble of colored in spit fell in the water, causing him to say in a thick, nauseated voice, "Oh god..." then gag once more, bringing up a mouthful of frothy, beige vomit. Jonah gulped down against the knot in his throat, forcing his gaze away and planted a hand on Leo's naked back. He was covered in cold sweat, muscles seizing under Jon's hand as he continued to heave for another five minutes.

Leo let another sickly burp, the groaned and collapsed forward, causing Jonah to scramble to grab him by the shoulter, "don't split your head open, Leo!"

"Uhhmm, wasn't gonna..." He scoffed, pressing his forehead to the cold porcelain, "I still feel so queasy..."

Jonah hit the flush, then combed his fingers through Leo's sweaty bangs, touching his cheek and forehead inconspicuously. He wasn't feverish and Leo let out a little snort, "I know what you're doing, Dr. Banks..." he blew out another soft burp, "I wanna go to bed but I'm all sweaty..."

"Couch?" Jonah suggested and Leo lifted up his head, considering it for a minute before nodding.

"Yeah okay, help me up..."

It was a bigger hassle than expected, as Leo washed his face and brushed his teeth, only for the toothbrush to send him into another gagging fit, but eventually they managed to move into the living room and Leo collapsed down on the cushions with a sigh, "Jon..."

"I know, I know," he grinned, sitting next to the man and planting his hand on his boyfriend's bloated belly, "tummy rub."

"You're the love of my life," Leo said in a pleased tone, eyes slipping closed as Jonah started rubbing his hand in a soft, gentle circle over his distended abs. It wasn't much of a massage, but he was afraid of putting too much pressure, with all the angry gurgling going on inside.

JD, who had been very busy chasing her toy mice, perked up at the sudden company and jumped on the couch as well, meowing and stepping on Leo's thigh in order to headbutt Jonah's chin.

"She's ignoring me," Leo groaned, pressing a hand on his stomach, "I stepped on her tail earlier."

"Well, I can't blame her," Jonah scoffed, kissing the top of JD's head, "Leo didn't mean it, baby."

As if she understood him, JD crawled on Jon's lap, nuzzling the inside of his arm and letting out a happy meow. Leo opened his eyes to glare at the cat, pouting.

"It was an accident! I was rushing in," his stomach let out a loud growl and he squirmed, gulping down, "Jon..."

"Shit, give me a second," Jonah sprung up, taking JD with him, and rushed to their kitchen, in order to grab a bowl. By the time he made it back, ten seconds later, Leo had his eyes squeezed shut and was breathing slowly through his mouth as if he was giving birth.

"Here, here, here-" Jon pushed the bowl under his chin and Leo grabbed it with sweaty fingers, but didn't immediately retch. Jonah cringed, planting JD down and moving so he wasn't directly looking at the bowl, but could help Leo hold it up, "baby?"

A nauseated hiccup shook the blonde's frame and he let out a moan, leaning forward and drooling over the bowl, "fuck..." he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, "my stomach hurts."

Jonah frowned, not liking this one bit. He hated the strong feeling of concern, over something so dumb like food poisoning, but he couldn't help it. Leo worried him always.

"Leo, no, don't do that!" Jonah groaned, as he realized his fiancee was shoving a finger down his throat to trigger his gag reflex, "don't force it-"

Leo shook his head, pulling back his hand and burping wetly over the bowl, "I can feel it in my stomach..." his voice was thick with queasiness and he hiccupped again, his belly letting out a disgusting wet sound, "Urgh, fuck..."

"Can I h-" he never finished that sentence, as there was a sudden wet noise in the back of Leo's throat and the blonde folded in half, projectile vomiting in the bowl.

He hung over it, panting as if he had just ran a marathon, before letting out a dainty little burp and another impressive stream of sick fell from his lips. Leo let out a whimper, coughing, then sighed, "Holy fuck... I feel tons better," he said hoarsely, causing Jonah to let out a disbelieving snort.

"Are you sure?" Jon scoffed, biting down a gag of his own, his mouth watering like crazy at the gruesome sight. Leo nodded, forcing up another burp.

"Yeah... Like crazy better," he rolled his shoulders, then let out a whine, "aw angel, you look grey. Sit down, I can clean this up-"

"No, I'm o-Oo-" Jonah interrupted himself with a retch and Leo let out a little giggle, planting a kiss in the inside of his wrist, since his boyfriend was sitting on the couch's arm, and slowly getting up.

"You're fine, uh?" He chuckled quietly, grabbing the bowl and gingerly walking to the bathroom to empty it out. Jon let out a humiliated sigh, sitting down on the couch and staring at his feet. He thought he was over this, he hated when Leo was feeling sick and his body decided to attention seek.

His belly clenched and he brought up a little sickly burp, breathing out slowly against the prickles of nausea... "Hey," Leo crouched in front of him, between Jon's knees, "you're okay? Are you sure it's just sympathy sickness?"

"Yep," Jon gulped down, nodding, "are you-"

"Really, I'm fine. That's on me for being too lazy to cross the street to go to the restaurant that I know won't make me ill," Leo rolled his eyes, leaning in and hugging Jonah by the waist.

In this weird position, with his boyfriend down to his knees in the rug, it was easy for Leo to drop his face to his lap and Jonah leaned back, starting to pet the golden waves of hair, "don't take this badly," he said slowly, while Leo sat down on the ground, leaning his head back to keep getting his hair petted, "but you suck at event planning."

Leo let out an offended huff, but didn't say anything and Jonah folded in half to kiss his forehead upside down, "I'm gonna take this from you and I'll scout for a location, okay? You worry about the damn flowers or what not."

"Anything more inconsequential you wanna hand me?" Leo pouted, causing Jon to grin and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Test me and I'll put you on water duty," he teased, before falling back against the couch, "so March?"

"Yeah, March," Leo smiled, then let out a little pleased sigh as JD sniffled his hand and came to sit on his lap.

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to @pickonerain! You've been an absolute star to me and seeing as you love Sherry, here's her little addition to the story 😇

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Divergence

It was not like Claire and Leon to hide from you, but somehow they had ended up right at the other end of the room, far away from the counter, out of sight. They seemed deep in conversation, their expressions grim, and Leon was gripping his porcelain cup so tight you were afraid it would shatter to bits in his hand.

Curiosity—or rather, nosiness—got the better of you, and you scooted closer to the couple, pretending to sweep the area so you could listen in more easily.

“This was why you wanted to meet me, Claire?”

“Isn’t it important enough? I don’t get why you’re being so defensive!”

“I thought you wanted to catch up over coffee, not use me for one of your schemes!”

“Use you? Are you even listening to yourself? How does bringing down that son of a bitch count as ‘using you’?

“Chief Irons probably had a good reason, and all these rumors—”

“Rumors? There’s cold, hard evidence! We just need that one missing piece—”

“No! Forget it.”

“What?”

“I’m not getting involved.”

“So, this is it, huh? You go your way, and I go mine?”

“I…”

“I’m embarrassed I even called you a friend.”

Kicking out her chair, Claire threw down a couple of bills on the table before storming out in a fit of rage, slamming the front door behind her. 

Before you could even react, Leon had beaten you to it. “Don’t look at me like that,” he chided, though he had ducked his face away, red with shame. “I know you heard everything. You weren’t exactly being very stealthy.”

“That was never really my strong suit,” you admitted. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest,” he said, motioning to the seat beside him, still unable to look you in the eye.

Spying his half-finished drink on the table, now cold, you resisted the urge to get up and fix it, knowing there were other things he needed more in that moment. So, you continued to sit with him, and even though you did not exchange any words, you breathed together, content with sharing in each other’s company until he was ready to speak.

“Do you think I’m naive?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Maybe I’m scared that I am,” he confessed, his voice small and tired. “What if I’m wrong? What if Claire’s wrong?”

Cradling his cheek in your hand, you caressed it softly. He didn’t protest, but leaned in indulgently, nuzzling his nose against your palm like a deer. Then, something clicked internally and he broke away, straightening up in his seat as though he had not just given in to his desires a moment ago. However, this time, his face was angled towards you, waiting.

“What does your gut feeling say?” you put forward. “I’d trust that.”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath as he stared off into the distance, gathering his thoughts. “A snake oil salesman—that’s one way of putting it.”

“Chief Irons,” he clarified. “Whenever I get close to something nasty, he throws me off scent.”

Another hunter—a more seasoned one, you observed.

“I guess you have your answer.”

He collapsed into the backrest of the armchair and exhaled, as though a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I’ll figure it out,” he stated, mostly to himself.

“I know you will,” you said encouragingly.

He had chosen the more difficult path, but at least he had made peace with it and was no longer in denial about Chief Irons’ deception. That was definitely a step in the right direction.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.”

Once again, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It felt nice like this, as though your very thoughts and beings were connected.

“I want to know more about you,” he professed out of the blue. “But somehow, you always manage to steer the conversation back to me.”

You gulped, fiddling with your hands. “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he murmured. “Your backstory, your favorite color, what do you do outside of work…” he trailed off.

“I’m not used to talking about myself,” you spelled out.

He grinned cheekily, as if the battle had already been won. “Don’t worry, I’m a good listener.”

And so, you yielded to him, letting things unfold as they should. Hours passed while you shared tales and secrets over cups of spiced tea with sweet milk. The flavors of cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg swirled around your tongue, bringing to mind the warm, inviting breeze of a coastal town near the Red Sea.

“There’s many names for it,” you explained, circling the rim of the cup with your finger lazily. “But I know it as Shai Adeni.”

Leon nestled his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the table as he gazed at you, captivated. “Incredible.”

“Hmm?” You were not sure if he had registered what you had just said.

Reaching out, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you close. His heated breath moist against your flushed skin, and the scent of his cologne was dizzying. “You’re—”

The door chime jingled.

Both of you jolted, separating yourselves away from each other in a flash, as your eyes fell upon a little girl standing shyly by the entrance. She was dressed in a school uniform, her hair neatly swept back with a headband into a braided bun.

“Hey there,” you greeted, brushing your hands against your apron as you stood up, shuffling past Leon towards her. “Would you like something to drink?”

At this, she nodded enthusiastically, following you to the counter to grab a seat. As you infused white chocolate into milk with a good dollop of citrus, you exchanged looks with Leon, who held the same concerns as you.

Sliding over another high chair adjacent to hers, he gently opened with, “Hey, I’m Leon. You got a name, pumpkin?”

She wrinkled her nose and grimaced at the nickname. “Sherry,” she replied timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Sherry,” Leon said, shaking hands before he continued, “So, it’s really late, huh? Do your parents know where you are?”

She twiddled her thumbs, swinging her dangling legs back and forth on the chair. “They don’t care,” she said finally. “They’re busy.”

“What do your parents do?”

“They work at Umbrella. They’re making important new medicine,” she revealed proudly.

“Sounds like a tough job,” Leon empathized.

After sprinkling the glittery icing sugar on her drink, you set it before her with a flourish. “Voilà, your Yuzu Meringue, Miss Sherry.”

She giggled at your performance and slurped down the foamy surface. “Mmm!”

“Good, huh?” Leon gave her a side smile.

“Tell you what, Sherry,” you began, “when you finish your drink, my friend Leon here will take you home, okay?”

Her nose was dusted with powder and the cup was still covering half of her face as her eyes darted towards the man.

“He’s a good cop, you’ll be safe with him,” you reassured her. 

Scribbling down your shop’s telephone number on a piece of scrap paper, you handed it to her. “Keep this, you can call me anytime you need to.”

Taking it, she pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly as she stuffed it away into her pocket. “Can I—” she paused, “can I come here whenever I want? You and Leon are nice.”

A pang of loneliness hit you. You sensed it from the tone of her voice and what was left unsaid. It didn’t seem like she had many friends and you wondered about it.

“Please?” she begged, interrupting your thoughts.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you said warmly. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you!” she squealed, running over to give you a quick hug before taking Leon by the hand.

Turning to you, a rosy hue spread across his face as he smiled meekly. “So… uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow, as usual, Leon.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[angel-calypso]

Mistaken part two

Okay i'm sorry for taking so long!! I tried my best to quickly write something but I'd rather put something decent out rather than a quick ending. I did my best i hope everyone likes it as much as the first part.

Erik lehnsherr x mutant!reader part two !! just a little angsty. mention of depression. Reader is just a little sad

For the next couple weeks, you reverted to keeping to yourself. Only coming out of your room to eat or tend to the garden. You had fallen into a small depression. You sincerely believed that you were simply a placeholder for Raven. That no one truly liked your company, but just missed hers. You couldn't have been more wrong. Every day, when you would creep out of your room, Erik would watch from a distance. He missed you deeply and couldn't understand what had happened. Every time he tried to talk to you, you would apologize and say you had to go somewhere. On the days where you didn't come out of your room at all, he would tend to the garden for you. Raking the leaves, trimming bushes around the property. He and Charles would always have a glass ready for you during their nightly routine.

Charles knew what had happened. But he wanted to let things unfurl for a while longer before he intervened. He hopes that Erik would finally tell you of his feelings. You two would just play around the fact, it almost made Charles annoyed sometimes. He loves you both and wants you and him to be happy but you both can be incredibly naive. Charles would check up on you during the day, knocking and cracking the door open. You felt like you were in a hospital with Charles performing checks on you. Charles would bring you food sometimes, with Erik waiting in the hallway. You never say the intense worrying Erik was doing for you. The pacing and the sleepless nights. His appetite almost gone as well.

“Y/n.” You were outside, just breathing in the air, growing flowers around your bare feet. They were sad, nothing compared to what you used to grow. They almost shriveled up when he said your name. That didn't go unnoticed to him

“Oh! I'm sorry Erik, I got to go, I can't talk, i'll catch up with you another time. sorry” You say your rehearsed and reused apology. He's heard it over and over. Every time stinging more than the last. You slipped your shoes back on. He didn't even say anything, he held himself back, he wanted to rip the metal from the fence and wrap a cage around you. He cursed himself for thinking that. He just wants you to look at him. Say something other than that damn same sentence. He watched you leave then looked at the darkened dead flowers where you stood. He wanted to scream at you, ask what he did wrong to deserve this treatment. Why you avoid him at every turn, he thought you had felt the same towards him.

That night you went to the kitchen to make some tea. You knew they were sitting in the office, you could hear them talking. You tried to imagine yourself there, you knew you would be happy with your best friend and the man you were deeply in love with. The laughing, the drinks, even the chess. Everything you missed just in another room. The kettle whistling brought you out of your mind, you went to take it off the stove, when it slowly lifted itself. You kept your back to him, knowing Erik was standing behind you. You thanked him and finished making tea. You grabbed the tray full of the milk sugar and tea. You finally turned to see Erik, for the first time actually looking at him. His eyes were pleading with you to say something else. His brows furrowed. You realized you couldn't move, frozen, you missed him so much. Just as quickly as you were frozen, you snapped out of it. Erik was standing in the doorframe. Blocking your way out, you walked up to him. You were the closest you two have been for a month now. You looked up to him and excused yourself. Hoping you could get out of there before the tears came.

“No.” He was looking at you, watching your every move. He needed to know why. He felt the metal in the tray, used it to move the tray out of your hands onto the counter.

“Erik. i'm tired, i need to go, i'm”

“No.” He cut you off before you could apologize. He was done with it. But it only made you mad. How could he sit here and torment you? Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

“No what, Erik? Just let me go to my room. I don't want to see you right now.” You avoided his gaze and tried pushing him out of the way. Erik stood his ground. He wasn't going to let you get away tonight. He needed answers.

“Please just talk to me, tell me what i did, why you won't even look at me anymore. What? what is it please I can't keep doing this.” He begged you desperately. His hands had found their way on your shoulders, holding you in place. You were shocked, you didn't expect him to care this much about you. You kind of just stared at him for a little bit. Trying to understand what's going on. You were embarrassed. You didn't want to tell him your feelings, why you locked yourself away.

“I'm sorry Erik.” Suddenly he wrapped his arms around you. You stood there for a while with your arms at your sides. You returned the hug, but with that came your tears. First slowly prickling your eyes then streams. “Erik. I just don't want to see you and her all over each other okay? I can't do it, it just hurts. I walked in that night on you two in the office when she came home. My whole heart sank. I can't do it, i'm so sorry. it's not your fault at all Erik. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just selfish.” Once you started talking you couldn't stop crying, you told him everything, how you thought he felt the same. How you had fallen in love with him. everything. He had grown stiff and you had felt it, it made you cry even more. You had made a mistake telling him, you just knew it. He slowly let go of you, he chuckled to himself which only made you hurt more. He was laughing at your pain? Is it all a joke?

“Oh, mein armes mädchen, I don't know why you didn't just talk to me or Charles about this. I feel so foolish, I didn't even think about Raven inadvertently causing all this.” It almost seemed like he was talking to himself. He took your face in his hands sweetly. “There is nothing going on between me and Raven. She is like a sister to me. She's a bit touchy, but if you stuck around us, you would realize she's like that with everyone. I thought you knew her and Hank were together, Meine Liebe?” You were confused, how could you have missed that detail? Your face was growing hot with embarrassment again. You apologized for the tears. He wiped them away softly. You two stood there for what seemed like forever. Your bodies were close, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. He closed the distance between you. His lips meeting yours felt like the most right thing ever to happen to you. You returned the kiss, deepening it. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer. After a few minutes, he pulled back. He looked into your eyes, you swore there was a tear in his.

“I love you, Y/n. I truly love you.”

translations:

Mein armes mädchen - My poor girl

Meine liebe - My love

taglist; @mostlymarvelgirl @mirrorball-6

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Jonathan Pine

Summary: Jonathan Pine is very nice to work for but you've been fooled before.

Warnings: Age discrimination, Bullying.

A/N: Reader is 40+ years old and female. No physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Jonathan stuck around in CEO Levinson's office after Lloyd stomped off in a fit. He was always one to wait until being properly dismissed.

Ari shakes his head, "alright, how about we go visit your department?"

"Of course, Mr. Levinson," Pine smiles.

He sends you a quick text to inform you that they're on their way. He used to be nervous about these sorts of things. Previous assistants have either failed to read his messages or were too distracted to prepare for such a visit. But with you, he has every confidence that you'll have coffee, tea and the preferred snacks of Mr. Levinson and his assistant, Mr. Smith.

Sure enough, as they entered the IT area, you were ready.

"Here is your Moroccan spiced coffee with a side of ma'amoul, Mr. Levinson," you smile. "And your Earl Grey, plain, with some rich tea biscuits, Mr. Smith. They might not be as good compared to what you get overseas but I have every confidence in the abilities of our local establishments."

Ari takes a sip and moans. "You place your faith in the right people." He gives you a wink before heading into Jonathan's office with him, Raymond staying out with you.

"Are you not joining them, Mr. Smith?"

"I have been asked to stay outside for this particular meeting," he tells you. "He alternates sipping his tea and eating one of the biscuits. "I must say, you do have quite the taste. You are correct that nothing compares to the comfort of home however these are clearly made by someone who knows what they are doing."

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," you smile. "Would you like to have a seat, then? I'm not sure how long this meeting will actually go."

"Please, call me Raymond. And thank you for the offer." Raymond sits across from you at your desk. "I do hope you will sit as well."

"Of course, Mr.--Raymond. Of course, Raymond."

After you sit, Raymond pulls himself closer to you. "I have been asked to stay outside for this meeting so that I may speak with you alone."

"Is...is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. In fact, it is possibly something very good," Raymond is quick to reassure. "I have found myself, unfortunately, falling a bit short in aiding Mr. Levinson with both his work and home matters. As I travel with him, his manor and its care have slowly become...lacking," Raymond sighs, clearly disappointed with himself. "With his permission, I have begun looking at potential housekeepers. You were one of the first people that came to mind for the position."

You gasp at this information. "I...may I ask why?"

"Simply put, your competency. Like myself, you are very good at your job. Mr. Pine has the jealousy of all of the other managers in this company." Heat rushes to your face as you consider this. "I have also taken the liberty of looking into your previous employers," he continues. "While their reasoning for firing you may have been technically legal, the circumstances are dubious. What was exceptionally clear, however, was the drop in quality and business soon after you left. Clearly you were carrying those previous employers."

"Would...would you be willing to email me the, the details of the job?" you ask. "I'd like to know what I'd be getting myself into."

"Of course," Raymond nods. "I will have it for you by the end of the day, along with the salary and benefits information."

"Thank you, Raymond."

"I have to tell you, Jonathan, you're assistant is something else." Levinson takes another sip of the delightful spiced coffee.

"Yes, she has been an exceptional boon to my work," Jonathan nods.

"Has she ever given you any problems?"

"She has always ever been professional."

"Just professional?"

Jonathan furrows his brows, "yes."

"So the two of you have no personal relationship?"

"Not as such," Jonathan confesses. "May I ask what this is about?"

Ari rubs the back of his head. It's tactic he's used before to make himself seem apologetic but Jonathan knows better. "Well, I'm need of another assistant. Raymond is overworked and some things are falling through the cracks. Your girl there is one of my top considerations. If there was something between the two of you, I would immediately drop her from the list, I'm not going to break a relationship. But if it's only professional, I'll keep her in the consideration until she says she's not interested."

Jonathan's blood freezes. It would be quite the move up for you but he knows your absence would hurt him more than just professionally. "Who am I to stand in her way?" is the most diplomatic response he can make.

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

@lokislady82

[dullgecko]

(Look, this was going to be a quick little thought about the aftermath of the goblin situation, but then my angst-loving brain got all excited. Oops?)

Once the whole "oops all goblins" ordeal is over, Riz definitely feels some kind of way about how the rest of the school treated his friends while they were goblins.

Had they all been turned into halflings or other small species, he was pretty sure there wouldn't have been anywhere near as much of a reaction. Sure, some people would have had the reaction of "Oh they're so small now, that's cute" but that would have been it because halflings are still much more respected than goblins are.

Instead, there had been a weird mix of "Oh that's so cute" and "Oh that's so weird" because obviously goblins ~are~ weird, but these little hybrid ones were also pretty adorable and that made it okay. Riz did his best to shield his friends from the worst comments, but he still heard and internalised every single one of them.

Aside from the occasional Helio kid, no one was outright racist towards the bad kids while they were goblins, and even the most racist Helio kids didn't physically hurt or threaten any of them. And that was good, Riz obviously didn't want his friends to get hurt, but he also knew why they were getting a free pass on things that he had been routinely bullied for and that hurt more than he cared to admit.

Him getting overwhelmed by light or sound was disruptive and something that he should just deal with. Adaine getting overwhelmed was met with sympathy and patience.

Him needing to bite things was gross and harmful and dangerous. Fig biting things was funny and cute.

His tail had been a target to step on and cause him pain. Kristen's tail was treated with utmost care, even when she tripped over it herself.

Him eating strange foods was disgusting. Fabian eating strange foods was cool and experimental.

Him being angry made him dangerous and monstrous while also not taken seriously because he was so small. Gorgug's rages were still taken seriously, no matter his height.

Riz knew that he was weird (practically everyone he met reminded him of that), but he had also grown up as one of the only goblins, and he was well-acquainted with the various forms of racism. Seeing his friends get treated so well really really hurt, because maybe it was just him that was the problem after all. (Later, with both of them crying, Fig would vehemently disagree with him about this).

So once it's all over, and Riz has had a chance to recover from the hypervigilance of watching 5 new goblins, he falls into a really bad dysphoria/dysmorphia/self-loathing spiral and he ends up with a whole clue board for all of the ways he has decided that he is Wrong based on the ways people treated his friends compared to how he is treated. He kept it hidden for a week or so, withdrawing more and more until he stopped talking with his friends beyond basic necessities, flinched away from any touch, and by the end of the week just fully stopped spending any time with them or replying to any messages.

That weekend, they all broke into his office where they found him just staring at an alarmingly cluttered clue board, surrounded by piles of even more "evidence", including extracts from old monster manuals describing goblins as dangerous vermin, old research papers that claimed that goblins don't feel emotions but use signals like tears to manipulate "actual people", and a hastily scribbled note saying that dominate monster had been specifically used on him and no one else.

Once the bad kids worked out what the board was, Fig confiscated and destroyed it while Adaine removed all of the other "evidence" Riz had gathered but hadn't yet added. There was then a very tearful and intense conversation about everything (or as much as Riz could put into words, which definitely isn't everything but is still a lot to be dealing with).

He begged them not to tell his mom about the board, and eventually they agreed, on the condition that he talks to Jawbone or some other therapist instead.

Not long after that, a lot of the outdated and harmful information about goblins mysteriously disappears from the school library. In an entirely unrelated event, a huge bonfire party is held at Seacaster Manor :)

(A couple of weeks later, Riz still isn’t doing well exactly, but he is doing a little better and has finally started accepting hugs again even if he has to fight against his brain telling him he shouldn't).

I love getting this kind of stuff its so juicy.

The whole 'his friends get treated well as goblins' thing definitely hits a nerve. Mostly because everyone who saw them at school knew who they were (they've saved the world several times they are lowkey famous except for fig and gorgug who are just famous famous). They're not real monsters they're just cursed/sick so they got a lot of free passes for things that Riz would never be able to do without putting himself in actual danger.

Plus, the whole situation with them being hybrids? Yeah, they were pretty. Riz wouldnt say cute because they were the same size as him and almost adults for fucks sake. It makes him wonder what the fuck is wrong with how he looks if he's constantly being told goblins are disgusting, but only if the goblins look like him apparently.

And hey, maybe he was just manipulating people by pretending to have emotions? More than one research paper was saying it, and right now he wasnt feeling much of anything. Had he ever felt much of anything? Maybe he was just tricking people the entire time.

[darth-jess-my-writing]

Anakin x Padmé

This is smut. MDNI. 18+. Mind the tags on AO3.

~2366 words

These are the early days of the Clone Wars. Padmé is frustrated about Senate business, and Anakin is frustrated with the Jedi Council. So when Anakin approaches Padmé in the Senate building all hot and angry, they decide to blow off some steam in her office.

Teaser posted below, link at the bottom to the full scene on AO3.

This is totally unedited, it might be awful I wrote this in kind of a frenzy. If you guys have edits or comments lemme know!

P.S. This is my first attempt writing smut for these two lovebirds, so while I do take constructive criticism very well (in fact I welcome it, if you have tips for me lemme know I'm always trying to improve my writing) I don't appreciate outright bullies, so try to be nice!

A Jedi Comes to Call

Padmé Amidala stood, locked in deep conversation with Senator Organa just outside her office. A large portion of the Senate hearing today had been a discussion of whether or not the clones should be given full Republic citizenship after the end of the war, and it had not gone well.

“I can’t believe how many Senators are more concerned with how this might affect the job market,” Padmé said under her breath. “It really shows where our priorities lie.”

Senator Organa nodded sadly. “We should be setting them up with pensions, not arguing about whether or not they deserve citizenship after fighting our war for us.”

Padmé was about to respond with her agreement when she felt him.

She wasn’t Force-sensitive, but the bond she had with her husband went beyond the Force. Padmé could feel echoes of his resentment, and they melded with her own frustrations from the day, though she had no idea what he was upset about. The Council? Something Obi-wan said? Something Ahsoka did? It didn’t really matter in the end.

And then she saw him.

Anakin rounded the corner, looking dark and handsome and angry. She knew it was wrong, but damn was he hot when he was angry. His every stride toward her was confident, powerful.

Intense irritation radiated from his form. He was tense, on edge, and he needed…oh, he needed release from it.

Padmé’s breath hitched and her face began to burn.

That’s why he was here.

He was coming to her because he wanted her.

Because he needed her to grant him that sweet release that only she could give him.

“Senator Amidala?” Bail asked. “Are you alright?”

Padmé cleared her throat. “Y-yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said, completely embarrassed because she’d honestly forgotten Bail was still there.

Had he been talking to her?

Bail’s eyes went to the tall, beautiful, Jedi who was now close enough that Padmé could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. And she really, really, wanted to, despite being incredibly annoyed at him for assuming she wouldn’t refuse him even here at her place of work.

That gentle smirk on his lips as he looked at her made her doubt herself.

Definitely doubt herself.

Alright, maybe his assumption was correct.

But she was still irritated.

“General Skywalker!” Bail said. “How good of you to visit the Senate. Did you watch the hearing?”

Anakin’s demeanor changed completely, and he smiled at the man, hiding everything that was burning within him. “No, Senator, I’m actually here to speak with Senator Amidala.”

Anakin’s eyes went to Padmé, and she still felt the pent up anger rolling of him like boiling water, but beneath that there was lust, there was hunger. And it was all for her.

Excitement and anger heated her blood.

Who did he think he was, marching in to her place of work expecting to seduce her? He was insufferable, couldn’t he tell that she was working on something important? She was already angry and upset with how the hearing had gone, and she would have to spend the next few days working up some way to get other Senators on her side of this.

And yet his boldness seriously turned her on.

And maybe he could help her clear her mind.

He was a Jedi, after all.

“Of course,” Bail said. “Senator Amidala and I were just finishing up.” His eyes glanced from Padmé to Anakin, once, then twice. He stepped back, awkwardly. “I’ll be on my way.”

Finally, the two of them were relatively alone in the hall. There were others nearby, but they were all out of earshot.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, General Skywalker?” Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t I visit a friend at work?” Anakin asked.

Padmé watched his lips move and all she wanted was to feel them against her own. But his words were absolutely infuriating and cocky. She would show him. Her mouth watered thinking about what she’d do to him later to torture him for this. “You’re going to regret this,” she sneered quietly.

“I really don’t think I am,” Anakin replied, smirking again.

She looked up at him, studying him, probably a little closer than a senator and a Jedi general should ever stand. She could feel his hot breath on her face.

The way he looked at her like he could ravage her here, now, against the wall of the Senate with everyone watching, made her knees feel weak.

The tension between them had become electric, and Shiraya help her, she wanted him so badly.

Heat pooled in her core, and she made her decision.

“I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, and walked toward her office.

Anakin’s voice was low, and seductive. “I’ll make certain you won’t.”

[i-post-random-layton-screenshots]

they are contemplating his stupid fork orb thing