#But if I need those things and leave them off I look unprofessional and it’s easy grounds to just reject the query without looking farther

[ninjaaa-go]

please, I’m begging you, just give me clear and thorough instructions. please

[cruel-as-sin]

baby, am i your little secret? | logan howlett

pt. 1

↳ summary: well, logan did promise you he’d come again… but this time, you bring him home, and he’s going to take care of you

word count: 3.2k

song: older | isabel larosa

pairings: old man!logan x fem!stripper!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn w/ very light plot, prostitution/strip clubs, age gap (readers age is unspecified but she is an adult), lingerie mentioned, size difference, oral (f!recieving), protected p in v, multiple orgasms (reader), praise kink, gentle sex, pet names (sweetheart, baby), aftercare, a little bit of fluff at the end, readers roommate makes a brief appearance, no use of y/n, mention/implication of a gun, the glasses still stay on, practice safe sex everyone (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: woah i was not planning on writing a second part or expecting the first one to get as much love as it got… thank you so much to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged! i’ll probably write at least one more part to this at some point but for now, enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan tried to tell himself he shouldn’t go back, he really did.

He’s no good for people like you- sweet, gentle things. He’s no good for anyone.

But despite all the things he tells himself, he still ends up across the street from that damned club, feet carrying him against his better judgement, right up to your door.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s been a little over three weeks since the best fuck you’ve ever had stepped through your door.

You wondered if he really did plan on coming back. Maybe he was just offering a next time to be polite? But every time you remember the way he looked at you, his promise to return, the words he whispered in your ear, you disregard that theory.

He’s coming back- you know it. You just don’t know when.

Your ears perk up when you hear the bell, as they have every time it’s rung since you last saw him- but it’s not him. It never is, and the little ding that used to bring you hope now feels like it’s just taunting you.

So you continue on with your work, trying to forget about him, until that one fateful night when he finally shows.

It’s ten minutes before close when he comes in, a wary gaze searching the room behind those same cheap glasses. His eyes land on you, and you’re approaching him before you even process it, his mere presence magnetic.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as you walk over.

“Hi.” You reach out and put a hand on his arm. “Coming back for more, hm?”

“You left quite an impression.” The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “Can I have another night with you, pretty girl?”

You glance at the clock. Shit. Barely enough time for a dance- maybe. Or…

“Not here.”

His brow furrows in confusion, and you continue.

“This is very unprofessional of me.” You say in a soft, shameful tone that you know makes even the strongest men helpless. “But… I want to take you home.”

Despite the doe eyes you’re giving him, you do mean it- more than you’re letting on. Something feels special about him, like he’s more than just a customer passing through.

But you keep your cards close to your chest as you wait with baited breath for him to accept or decline your offer.

“Alright, pretty girl.” He says with a faint smile. “Lead the way.”

You finish closing up for the night, grabbing your clothes and throwing them on over your work outfit to protect you from the cold. He lingers there as you go, trying to ignore the curious glances from your coworkers.

“If we’re gonna do this, though, I’m gonna need to know your name.” You say casually, glancing back at him.

He contemplates for a moment, seeming to almost say something else before the word leaves his lips. “Logan.” Despite his near misstep, you believe him.

“Logan.” You repeat the name, then give him yours. When he says it back to you, you love the way it rolls off his tongue.

“You sure you’re alright going home with a stranger?” You tease.

“You’re no stranger, sweetheart.” His words make you smile, and you bring him out the back door to your car, a cautious eye on the parking lot as you do.

It’s not Logan you’re worried about. No, if that were the case, you wouldn’t have even considered bringing him home. It’s the others that frequent the establishment, your regulars who get a little too handsy, the extra bold ones that like to linger by the exit long after you close. But none of them are here tonight- it’s just you and him.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional small chatter. When you arrive, you take the elevator up to your floor, pulling out your keys.

You fumble with your keys when you reach the door that signifies you and your roommate’s shared living space, eventually managing to get the door open. “Shoes go right there.” You gesture to a shoe rack next to the entryway, kicking off your own shoes as you struggle to pull the key out of the lock. You hang up your keys and watch him put up his blazer before you finally shut the door behind you.

He’s on you the moment the door closes, but you halt him with a gentle press against his chest. “Hang on. I need to tell my roommate that I’m gonna be busy.” You make sure he sees the glint in your eyes as you walk down the hall, opening the door to your room first.

He steps inside, his eyes roaming around before falling back on you. “Don’t keep me waitin’ too long, sweetheart.”

“I’ll just be a second.” You say with a smile, pulling the door closed before heading across the hall and knocking on your roommate’s door.

After a moment, you hear a brief “Yeah?” from the other side.

You open the door just a crack, poking your head in. Cas, your roommate, pauses the game on their computer and pulls their headphones off, spinning around in their chair to talk to you. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“I’m just letting you know I have company.” You say casually. “So I might be busy for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, yeah, mhm.” Cas says, pretending to be surprised by this revelation. “Is this normal company, or ‘I cover my ears and pray to god my noise cancelling headphones work while someone fucks your brains out’ company?”

You roll your eyes. “Hey, who said I was the one getting my brains fucked out instead of the other way around?”

To that, they just raise an eyebrow, as if to say really?

“Whatever.” You say, unable to hide the smile forming on your face.

“Mhm.” It’s more drawn out this time, punctuated by a tiny knowing smile. “Is this company of yours spending the night?”

“Hopefully. I don’t know.” You say with a shrug. “If you see a stranger in the kitchen, don’t shoot him.” Your tone is lighthearted, but you do mean it- you know Cas gets nervous around intruders, and your gaze flickers just briefly to the locked safe in the corner.

They nod. “No shooting your newest boytoy. Got it.”

You let out an exasperated huff, beginning to pull the door closed. “Goodnight, Cas.”

“Night!” They call after you. “And remember, be safe-”

You close the door before they get to finish, laughing softly to yourself before returning to your own room.

You step inside, finding Logan sitting on the edge of your bed, illuminated by the soft light of the lamp on your nightstand. He stands when he sees you, walking over to you as you close the door.

“Hey.” You say softly, looking up at him, taking in his face.

To see a man, even an attractive one, at work is one thing. But here, in your home, your sanctuary, it feels different. Almost… open. Vulnerable. You find yourself noticing details you hadn’t picked up on before- the lines of his face, the way his hardened demeanor seems to become just a little gentler every time he looks at you.

"Hey." He replies in a quiet tone. Even now, outside of your domain, he looks for your guidance, waits for you to take the lead.

You lean in to kiss him- softer, gentler, slower than the last time, savoring the taste of whiskey on his tongue. Your hands trail up his chest, to the collar of his shirt, the edges of his tie. You begin to undo it, pulling apart the knot before his hands come up to grasp yours, stopping you halfway through.

He breaks the kiss to murmur in your ear. “I’m takin’ care of you tonight.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the suggestion. “You don’t have to-” You finish undoing his tie, pulling it away and letting it fall to the floor.

“I want to.” He cuts you off, his tone firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Please.” His voice lowers. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

You meet his gaze for a moment, a little stunned to see that he truly does want to make you feel good. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised- it’s Logan, after all- but still, after most of the men you meet treating your pleasure as an afterthought, the idea alone that he wants tonight to be about you has arousal soaking through your panties.

Nodding, you lower your hands from his collar. “Okay.” You say softly.

He kisses you again, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up. Your legs lock around his waist as he carries you over to the bed, your tongue sliding across his own. He breaks the kiss for a moment to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth meets yours once more.

He lays you down on the bed, his hands moving to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra and pulling it off of you. He kisses a path down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, lips trailing down to your chest. He alternates between sucking on your nipples and kneading your breasts in his hands, causing you to throw your head back with a soft moan.

He kisses down your chest, large hands spreading your thighs open as he pulls your pants down. He nips at your thighs, earning a surprised gasp. He slowly pulls your lingerie aside, revealing your soaking cunt. He inhales slowly, trying to collect himself as he pulls your underwear the rest of the way off and out of his way.

He pushes his glasses up just a little before he leans in and licks a long stripe up your cunt. He groans against your pussy, sending vibrations shooting up through your core.

"Taste so sweet." He mumbles against you before diving in.

His tongue works magic- and you were right, his beard does feel heavenly against your thighs.

And oh, he takes his time with you. He takes his sweet, sweet fucking time with you.

You don't know how long it's been, nor do you think you care. You’re on cloud nine, feeling too good to even care about your orgasm while simultaneously needing it more than you’ve ever needed anything. Logan knows just how to please you, his tongue delving into your folds, worshipping you.

“Logan,” you eventually manage to whine, “Please.”

You meet his eyes, and he pulls away just enough to answer you. “You need me to make you cum, sweetheart?”

You nod frantically, and that’s all the signal he needs. He dives back in, zeroing in on your clit and sucking in a way that has your peak rapidly approaching within seconds.

You unravel, not even bothering to try to quiet your moans (you're pretty sure it would be futile, anyway). Your eyes squeeze shut, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you, flooding through every part of your body as you reach your high. He keeps his mouth on you the whole time, riding out your orgasm until you begin to come down. His hands rest on your thighs, his steady grip grounding you, keeping your entire being from being washed away by the seemingly unending bliss.

When you can finally breathe again, you open your eyes to find him raising his head, his eyes meeting your own.

“Holy fuck.” You breathe, letting out a small laugh.

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a smirk. “Yeah?”

His beard glistens with your slick, and the sight makes you sit up a little, getting a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him up towards you. You kiss him hungrily, tasting yourself on his tongue, once again reaching for the collar of his shirt. You unbutton it fully this time, eager to feel his muscular chest and disappointed to find an undershirt beneath.

He pulls away from the kiss. “Let me.” He takes off his shirt, letting you run your hands up and down his torso as he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. You feel your pussy clenching at the sight of his cock, hard and aching for you.

You sit up a little further, wanting to return the favor, but he gently pushes you back down. “Another time, sweetheart.” He says in response to the pout on your face, pulling a condom out of his back pocket before pushing his pants off the bed. “I said I’d take care of you, remember?”

You watch as he rolls on the condom, mesmerized by the sight of his veiny hands wrapping around his thick cock. “I’m pretty sure you just did.” You protest, any further arguments cut off by a whine as he brushes his tip against your folds.

He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

He pushes into you slowly, moving inch by inch until he’s filling you completely. He starts to move, pulling most of the way out before thrusting back in, setting a slow but powerful rhythm that has high pitched whines leaving your lips within moments.

“Christ, you’re fuckin’ desperate.” He says, eyes locked on the place where your bodies meet. “Look at you, just suckin’ me in. You like that, huh? You like being filled up by my cock?”

You’re too cock drunk to manage anything other than a “uh-huh” that turns to a whine as he thrusts harder.

“You’re doin’ so good, taking me so well.” He praises, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He continues to murmur in your ear, your moans and his words a sweet chorus of bliss. You feel his hand slip between your thighs and rub at your clit, and your second orgasm hits you hard and fast with a scream of his name. Your vision goes white, the feeling of him thrusting sharply into all the right places taking over all your senses. You can faintly hear him talking you through it, his voice ragged as he approaches his own orgasm.

“Good girl, that’s it; good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is low in your ear, his breath stuttering as he cums with a loud groan, thrusting through both your peaks, your name leaving his lips.

You feel almost like you’re floating, the pleasure nearing the line of overwhelming. You're only brought back down by the feeling of him slipping out of you, the gentle kisses he leaves along your face- but even then, you don’t open your eyes, still trying to breathe as your pussy pulses with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You hear him get up, hear his footsteps fading away, the bedroom door closing behind him. A pang of hurt goes through you- you didn’t think he’d be the type to just leave. You can’t bring yourself to get up, too exhausted to move, so you just lay there, beginning to drift off. Then you feel a pair of strong arms wrapping around you, lifting you up against his chest and carrying you down the hallway.

You stir, looking up to find Logan half dressed, in only his undershirt and pants. His eyes meet yours, a faint smile forming on his face.

You want to ask where he’s taking you, but your question is quickly answered when he pushes open the door to the bathroom. He gently sets you down in the tub, the warm water enveloping you and making you even sleepier.

“You want me to help you clean up, or would you prefer to do it yourself?” His tone is gentle but firm, making it clear that your well-being is not up for negotiation.

“I can do it.” You force your limbs to move, reaching for a washcloth.

He nods. “I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

You don’t question where he’s going, solely focused on the task at hand, lest the heaviness in your eyes claim you before you’re finished.

By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned yourself up and wrapped a towel around your waist, feeling at least a little more awake. He gives a gentle knock at the door, and when you murmur a soft, “Come in,” he enters.

His expression turns to one of slight concern when he sees you. You are, admittedly, leaning on the counter for support- it’s not your fault your legs feel like jelly.

You don’t have to ask; you barely even have to look his way before he’s scooping you into his arms again, taking you back to your room. For a moment you wonder how he knew no one would be in the hallway, but you’re too worn out to care.

The soft feeling of your sheets has you practically melting into your bed when he lays you down. You’re almost out the moment your head hits the pillow, but Logan’s voice keeps you awake.

“Here.”

He holds out a glass of ice water and a string cheese.

“Figured you didn’t want to eat much this late, but I thought I’d get you something.”

The action is simple, but sweet. You reach out, taking both items from him and sipping the water as you tear open the string cheese. He lingers near the bed as you finish them both off, a careful gaze trained on you, ensuring you’re okay.

When you’re done, he takes the empty cup and wrapper from you, throwing the wrapper in the trash and setting the glass on your nightstand. At your request, he heads over to your dresser, and you direct him to a plainer pair of underwear, a comfy tank top, and your favorite pair of sleep shorts. He brings them over, taking the towel and folding it over the top of your desk chair as you change into your PJs.

You crawl under your covers, curling up in preparation for the rest your body desperately craves. Logan approaches the bed, smiling to himself as you mumble something half-coherent- a goodnight of some sort, at least, that was your intention. He pulls up the edge of your covers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before he retreats again.

His voice has a softer edge to it when he steps away, turning out your lamp as he goes. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Where are you going?” You murmur, already half asleep, eyes lidded, but still reaching for him.

His brow furrows slightly. “Goin’ home. Figured you didn’t want-”

“Do you want to leave?” You ask, sitting up slightly. Your eyes can be heavy all they like, but you’ll be damned if you let him just walk away again.

He hesitates, lips caught in the beginnings of a no before he corrects himself. “I don’t want to intrude-”

You shush him. “None of that. C’mere.”

He protests no further, rising from where he’d leaned down to pick up the rest of his discarded clothes. He makes his way over to the bed, ditching his work pants in favor of just his boxers before cautiously settling in beside you.

You find yourself drawn to him, hesitantly reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. When he turns to you, you scoot a little closer. After a moment, he shifts to face you, allowing you to nestle yourself within his arms. He pulls you close, his body warm against your skin, his arms wrapping tightly around you. His breath hits your neck, and you close your eyes, letting the smell of smoke and aftershave lull you to sleep.

tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @namikyento @gewrgia-black @r0ttedcherubim

[merakiui]

Another, slightly longer thought ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) pervy Jade who works at a library (｡>\\<)

Jade who’s creeping on a frequent patron, always asking her if she needs help finding something, recommending romantic/suggestive titles when she’s looking for something new to read, always looking for excuses to be “working” in her vicinity. ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩) It’s the only chance he gets to be around her and she’s just so cute and easily flustered!

He’s TOTALLY not only re-shelving books on the bottom shelves when she’s around just to peek under her skirt—he’s just a very diligent worker and can’t wait for her to leave to do his job! Don’t point out that those books aren’t alphabetized correctly! He’s the one who works there, so he knows what he’s talking about… he’ll return later to fix them.

He DEFINITELY doesn’t have his phone out just to take pictures of her! That would be SO unprofessional! He just remembered that he needed to order a book the library didn’t carry and was making a note. If you heard his phone camera click, no you didn’t! You must be hearing things. He’ll remember to be more careful next time :)

She thinks he’s weird… ( >_< '') but he seems very sweet and helpful. Maybe he’s just enthusiastic about his job. And he definitely is when she’s around. He’ll drop the act one day. Poor thing… she was just spending some time at one of her favorite places and now slimy, creepy Jade was groping her in a secluded corner of the library! Shh! Don’t yell! Don’t you know that it’s rude to be loud in a library? Just let him do this. ( •̀⤙•́ )

Don’t bother tattle-taling to his boss after, either. He might feign incompetence around you, but to everyone else he’s a star employee! Where else would they find someone with his amount of passion and dedication? It was probably a one-off event anyway? Right…? His transgression will be ignored (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

AAAAAAA OTL so delicious…… it almost makes me imagine Jade in a YOU scenario, specifically in Joe’s role. Seemingly innocent and charming bookshop owner who is obsessed with a patron……. 😵‍💫

That aside, omg I love the idea of creepy Jade who is always being a sly, subtle pervert to you…. from taking sneaky panty shots to leering at you through the shelves, keenly aware of the sort of books you’re looking at. What genres you like. Oooo imagine if you were looking at smutty romances. >:)

Maybe you’re shy, too. He just loves how you shake and whimper when he corners you in the very back, away from all of the cameras, in a blind spot. <3 the way your voice trembles when you beg him to stop, to let you go. But he can’t stop. Not when you sound so cute, so flustered. His hand on your waist, climbing up and under your shirt, while the other remains clamped over your mouth. It’s no fun if you scream. Just let it happen. You’ll enjoy it. Oh, he’s so gross!!! Cumming in his pants from simply grinding against you….. he can only imagine how warm and tight you’ll be…

Maybe you stop showing up to the library after that. What a shame. :( he misses his favorite patron. But that’s okay. Jade will just have to come to you. <3

[anachronismstellar]

I'm here again, this time to further the MQF/SQH agenda!

And I'm happy to help the MQF/SQH agenda fjshskdjsk :D

-----

Mu Qingfang had no idea how he got there, all he knew is that when he blinked he had walked all the way to An Ding Peak, hand up in the air, ready to knock on Shang Qinghua's private quarters.

In his defense, it had been one of those days... For the past weeks. And today it seemed that the Heavens decided to test all his skills, only to deem him unworthy.

He considered leaving, now that he had woken up from his haze, but the Heavens intervined once more, apparently. The door opened slowly, and a sleepy Shang Qinghua blinked at him looking like a dream, his outer robe open, revealing the silk of his inner shirt and pants.

"Mu-shidi?" He asked as he opened the door fully for the other get inside. Mu Qingfang hesitaded, considering his options, an excuse ready on his lips. But the final blow came in the form of a hug, strong arms picking him up, their bodies melting as two soft candles burned out by long nights.

"I head about the attack," Shang Qinghua said he walked them towards his room, gently laying the doctor on the unmade bed, kneeling next to him to help with his boots. "Here's what we are going to do. Are you with me?"

Mu Qingfang nodded, even though he might not being entirely truthful, focusing on Shang Qinghua's voice to ground himself.

"Good. I'm going to make us some tea, the good lavender blend you like," Shang Qinghua said as he got rid of the first two layers of Mu Qingfang clothing, pulling a heavy blanket over him, the weight making Mu Qingfang sigh with relief. "Then you're going to eat and sleep. Sounds like a good plan?"

Again Mu Qingfang nodded, blinking as his glasses were carefully taken from his face and left on the small table next to the low bed. After that came off the pins in his hair, Shang Qinghua's hands combing it until all the knots were gone, scratching Mu Qingfang's scalp here and there.

"Good. Take a nap, I won't be long," Shang Qinghua whispered and Mu Qingfang didn't need to hear it twice. He didn't actually sleep, body too wired to let go without anyone there to wake him in case of trouble, but he was able to lull himself into a meditation state, focusing on his breathing and heart beat.

His mind wandered, eyes closed, the smell of ink permeating the bed mixed with the scent of Shang Qinghua’s bitter tea. He made a mental note to pull his ear for drinking it too much, chuckling when the memory of his first time he had to scold Shang Qinghua came to his mind.

It had been just another afternoon, and technically it was supposed to be just another mission. But as a Head Disciple, Mu Qingfang was starting to learn that nothing was "just a" or "normal" when certain disciples were involved.

"So explain to me again," He held back a sigh, because sighing in front of a patient was unprofessional and made things harder for him in the long run. "You were responsible for a delivery of-"

"Two, one for Zui Xian Peak and-"

"Two deliveries, right." And this time was impossible for him to hold back his sigh. Honestly, this guy had his brain scattered all over the place, how he didn't end up in his office before was a miracle. "Two deliveries, one of Jasmine tea and another of- What's the name again?"

The An Ding disciple shuffled his feet as he looked everywhere but Mu Qingfang's face, a drop of sweat running down his cheek even though outside the winds of Autumn were already strong enough for him to force a ban on sword flying for the next weeks.

"Uh. Tiger Lilies?" the other said with a weak laugh, picking on his nails as he finally had the courage to look Mu Qingfang in the eye, warm brown almost vanishing under the size of his dilated pupils. "But then I ran into Qi Qingqi-shiji and she had to have tea delivered immediately because of a party and-"

"And between one delivery and the other you mixed the parcels and-"

"And I kinda gave the Jasmine tea to Qi Qingqi-shiji, the other tea to Zui Xian Peak and-"

"And you brew some Tiger Lilies tea for yourself."

It was Shang Qinghua's time to sigh as he pressed both hands against his eyes, his shoulders sagging under the embarrassment he must be feeling.

It happened to all of them at some point, no need to shame. But to be hit with an aphrodisiac for the first time because you mixed up the delivery order?

Yea it was a bit embarrassing.

"Here's what we are going to do," Mu Qingfang got up from his low chair to check his cabinet for all the things they would need, picking up some bottles. "I'm going to prepare the room, and I'm going to help you out. Then you're going to drink proper tea and eat, and rest for at least two days, got it?"

The fever must be picking up, because all that Shang Qinghua could do was nod, licking his dry lips as he stared at the bottles on Mu Qingfang table. For a second he seemed terrified, and it crossed Mu Qingfang's mind that- this might be his first time.

He felt bad, scratching his head as the considered if it was a good idea to ask. The poor guy already looked so stressed, Heavens, should he offer to call someone else?

"This one- This one appreciates Mu-shixiong offer, but I know you must be tired, you don't-!"

"Shang-shidi," he interruped the other with a wave of his hand, cutting off that nonsense by the root. "You don't need to worry about me, I'm here to help you, I won't stand here and watch you suffer-"

"No! No, I know, Mu-shixiong is a good person, and I know you care about us all, even when we make dumb mistakes I- Uh. I just-"

The compliment made Mu Qingfang pause, surprised that the other had such high esteem for him. He thought they had met just a few times?

"- so, I think, maybe I could take care of it by taking care of you?!"

The hushed sentence made no senses for a long while, Mu Qingfang trying to process what in the all realms was the other talking about. And his confusion as plain to see, because Shang Qinghua took a deep breath and started explaining again, blushing all the way up to his hair, picking on his nails again.

"I mean, Mu-shixiong is kind and I've seen how you treat everyone and- I also know this is your third night shift so you must be tired, so I was thinking, maybe, since I have all this energy and Shixiong- Not that you won't be able to handle your duties! I know you are a strong cultivator, I just thought-"

"Yes," Mu Qingfang answered half to spare them the embarrassment of the situation, half because-

Holy shit when was the last time someone wanted to take care of him? And what a sad truth, but a truth one nonetheless.

"I mean, if makes you more comfortable, o-of course." he quickly corrected himself, trying to ignore his own sweaty palms and the heat climbing up his neck.

Memory mixed up with reality as Shang Qinghua kissed him on the forehead like he did for the first time so many years ago, making Mu Qingfang smile as he forced himself to stay in the moment, humming as Shang Qinghua kisses went all the way down his face until he got a peck on the lips.

"Feeling better?" Qinghua asked, to which Mu Qingfang nodded, still not entirely ready to speak. "Good, come on, I've stolen some cake from Shen-shixiong, they're really good."

It took him a moment to be able to stand, but slowly and surely he walked, Shang Qinghua's arm a comforting presence on his waist, his blabling a soothing white noise.

And just like that Mu Qingfang let himself go, allowing someone to be there for him for some time.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You confront Nick before confronting your feelings for Ransom.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Angst, Self-esteem issues, Talk of sex dreams. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

You park in front of the restaurant and turn to Ransom. "You're going to let me do the talking, understood?"

"Yes," he nods. He hasn't been able to make eye contact with you since his confession.

"Steve says he and Newbie are already in there with eyes on him."

"He's probably noticed them," Ransom comments. "Nick's pretty smart."

"No he isn't," you shake your head. "If he was really smart, he wouldn't have messed with us."

"Us?" he turns to look at you, cautious hope in his eyes.

"We're still friends, Ransom," you explain. "I've accepted your apology and you're working towards forgiveness. And after this whole thing with Nick, you and I are going to have a more in-depth, private conversation about where we stand. Understood?"

"Thank you," he breathes, eyes soft with a mix of emotions.

You direct Ransom to sit in the booth first before sliding in and sitting across from Nick.

"I didn't plan for a double date," he smirks.

"This isn't a date," you remark.

"That wasn't the deal."

"Oh no," you mock pout, "the private investigator is having memory problems!" You roll your eyes and drop the pout. "Ransom explicitly told you that I would meet you here at this restaurant at this time. There was no agreement as to this being a date nor that he wouldn't be accompanying me."

Nick licks his lips, eyes piercing, but you don't react. He smirks, "I suppose that's true. I'm guessing he told you what was going on?"

"Yes, which is why you're going to back off now before you get reported and lose your PI license." His smile drops and he raises an eyebrow, a silent question. "Legally speaking, a PI isn't allowed to divulge information about their investigation to anyone not approved of by the client. Not only do I doubt that Linda Drysdale would want you to inform her son, Hugh, that you were investigating him, but you told my friend, Ransom, that you were doing so. That is quite the breach of protocol."

Nick's smirk returns. "The wording of the rules are that I may not release information acquired during an investigation to anyone not approved by the client. Saying I'm investigating someone isn't breaking the rules."

"No, but it is incredibly unprofessional," you counter. "And how do you think someone as rich and powerful as Linda Drysdale would react to such behavior?" He flinches ever so slightly and you struggle to keep your own features schooled. "And remember, we have plenty of witnesses to this very conversation where you confirm you told my friend, Ransom, that you were looking into Hugh and that you were using this information to extort a date with me which, with the right lawyers, could easily be turned into a blackmail charge."

Nick gently shakes his head. "You're too good for him, you know. But I'll happily admit defeat to such a skilled opponent."

"I want exact details on what 'defeat' means to you."

He smirks, "I'm definitely not getting that date and that hurts because you are everything I knew you'd be and more."

You hide your instinctual embarrassed reaction by rolling your eyes. "Anything else?"

"I'll leave you and 'Ransom' alone. But I still need to get paid so I will be giving my client some of the details I picked up on a person who fits the profile of her lost son as well as where he works and lives."

"If you give her my friend's home address or personal phone number, you will be facing charges for blackmail."

"But the office is okay?" he raises an eyebrow.

"If you must. After all, even a bottom-feeder needs to eat."

Nick throws his head back and laughs. "We could have been wonderful together, but I will respect the loss. Make sure your 'friend' deletes those dating apps."

With that, Nick stands up and leaves the restaurant.

As soon as he's out the door you let out a big breath and practically collapse into Ransom. He remains silent, but gently wraps an arm around you. His touch becomes firm when you don't tell him to back off. Soon you're joined by Steve and Newbie who are all praise for how well you handled him.

"That was one hell of a verbal beat down!" Steve praises.

"I didn't insult him that much," you counter, voice shaky.

"No, but the way you were obviously in control of that whole thing was nothing short of amazing!" Newbie effuses.

You sniffle a little, feeling drained in every sense of the word. Ransom gently squeezes you and says, "maybe some food and drink would be a good idea?" You nod, wiping your teary eyes, and everyone agrees.

When you finally make it back to your apartment, you're feeling a lot steadier. You sit on the couch and pat the cushion next to you, indicating for Ransom to sit next to you.

He's felt a strange combination of relief, uncertainty, stress and he's not sure how to handle it. His old self would be making everything worse; biting comments, snapping at everyone, burning all the bridges. The instinct is still there, if only out of self-preservation. But you've accepted his apology, you protected him, you let him hold you. Even after hurting you, betraying your trust, you're still good to him. He can't ruin that. He won't.

You place a hand on Ransom's knee. "You don't actually have to go to that therapy appointment if you don't really want to," you start. "I think pushing you to do that was probably an overreaction on my part."

He places his hand over yours. "No, I think it was the kick in the ass I needed. I'll at least keep that first appointment and go from there."

"I just...I've told you before, about how my family is. Growing up with Christian Fundamentalist parents really skews your perception of things. The first time I had a sex dream, I truly believed I was being tested by the devil. But I also knew that, if I told my parents, they'd believe they needed to beat the devil out of me." Ransom inhales sharply, gently gripping your hand. "It took years of therapy and 'deprogramming' to learn that these things are okay. I learned a lot about hormones and their effects on the brain."

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. "So when I found out you'd been lying to me, avoiding me, all because of a sex dream, it threw me into a rage. You're far more educated on these things than I ever was. You're also way more experienced. So to learn that you reacted so strongly to something I've worked for years to destigmatize in my own brain..."

"I understand," he says with another gentle squeeze of your hand. "And I don't blame you, at all."

You sniffle, "thanks. But I still feel like crap for reacting like I did."

"You were hurt," Ransom counters. "Still are. And I'm the one who hurt you. And anger at those who hurt you is something that I very much understand."

"Also, for the record, you're not the only one who's having sex dreams," you confess. "I've actually had a few of them...about you."

"And yet, you acted the adult and didn't let them interfere with our friendship," he praises. "You really are too good for me."

"Please don't say that," you shake your head. "Self-deprecation gets you nowhere."

"I'll try," he promises. "So...where does this leave us?"

"We're still friends," you reassure him. "Maybe someday we can be more than that, when I'm no longer angry at you. But for now, I think we're going to be okay."

Ransom breathes a sigh of relief. "Can I hug you?"

"Of course," you nod.

The two of you sit quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the closeness, until Ransom breaks the silence. "Is it too soon to ask you what happened in those dreams?" he smirks. "I mean, I just want to make sure my performance was acceptable. I'll even tell you about my dream if it would make it easier for you."

You chuckle, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not saying anything!"

"Ugh, fine," Ransom softly teases. "So long as dream me treats you like the gift you are."

"Real you is doing that, too, you know?" He scoffs. "Yes, we had a minor setback, but healing isn't a linear process. And you've learned, grown, and will do better in the future."

"How can you be sure I won't hurt you again?"

"I can't. But I know it won't be intentional. And I trust you to take responsibility."

"I don't think I've ever had someone trust me," he admits.

"Well now you do."

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82; @thiquefunlover63

[luveline]

PLEASE I NEED MORE STRIPPER READER X AARON

cw reader is able to wear hotch's clothes, adult theme mdni

Your hands ache. You have calluses on your palm, unsightly, but if you were to soak them off you'd bleed. 

The club is practically dead. You can get away with a low effort routine —old men and day drunks don't care what you're doing so long as they can see your chest. The level of undress is your choice (though the girls willing to dance fully nude get the better slots, obviously), and you've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't really bother you when a patron shouts for you to take your bra off. Your hand is slipping behind your back for the clasp when you notice him near the bar. 

Agent Hotchner —you can call me Hotch— usually catches your attention and leaves. A quick nod after he's met your eyes, he'll wait for you to get dressed and meet him out front near his intimidating car. But today he watches even after you smile hello, and someone close by throws a ten at your feet like you'd been smiling for them. He's expressionless. 

It's far more difficult to finish your dance knowing he's watching. He doesn't stay for long, ten seconds at most, but those ten seconds are much longer than he's ever watched you perform before. 

You finish your dance, collect your tips, and trudge back to the dressing rooms. You would've made more money if you'd stripped down. Not much considering the small audience, but some. You can't explain why seeing Hotch had made you stay your hand, maybe because he's one of the only men you know who treats you like you're fully human. You don't want that to change.

It's colder outside than it was when you arrived. Traffic is picking up as people leave their jobs for the day, and the club will be busier in the night hours. You'll stay, hopefully make enough for food this week. 

"Are you warm enough?" he asks immediately. 

"I didn't bring my jacket." You shrug. "I'd rather be out here with you." Than go back inside, no matter how cold. 

He opens his trunk with a click of the key fob and disappears behind the tail end. You can see his arm move, a bundle of black fabric. His arm flexes as he closes the trunk, and his eyebrows have hooked together when he returns to you. 

"Here," he says, "it should fit." 

Just a simple charcoal quarter zip. You shrug it on over your clothes and find yourself immediately greeted by the smell of men's cologne. His cologne. 

"What can I help you with today, Mr. Hotchner?" you ask. You're flirting in that useless way where it doesn't mean a thing, and he knows that, because, as you've come to find about these special agents, they know everything. 

"I wanted to ask you to dinner." 

"Oh, I don't… I don't do the escort stuff," you say gently. 

"I know." He turns his head away from you. "I realise that it's unprofessional. I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position to say no. But I want to take you out for dinner, if you'd let me." 

You stare at him. "I won't sleep with you after one fancy dinner–" 

"It's not like that." He speaks so calmly, so quietly. 

It doesn't make any sense. He's a professional man in a successful career, with a son if you remember correctly, and a circle of peers his own age and status. If he doesn't want to fuck you, if he really wants to take you out for dinner, that's a date. 

"What, you want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, shaking your head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown. 

"I– well, if things went well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He laughs. 

"Are you messing with me?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared for the question." 

He meets you head on. Face to face and eye to eye, he looks at you with, for once, a completely readable expression. It's a bit startling. The slight lift to his brow and his half-smile, it's an expression that says, If you want to. It puts all the choice in your hands. 

"I know we don't know one another that well, I," —his eyes soften another shade, tenderness like no one's ever given you— "wanted to make my intentions clear to you. I didn't want to continue our professional relationship and then pull the rug out from under you later." 

You know Hotch through car rides, mostly. He's taken you home from a couple of places now, usually after he's asked you questions about someone or something to do with the sex trafficking ring currently being squashed in Virginia. He's nice. You've told him without fretting about the consequences that he's handsome. When you first met, you asked him why gentlemen like him didn't come to see you dance. 

You didn't think the answer was that they might grow to have feelings for you. 

You wonder if he's just lonely. But lonely Hotch could still have a number of women that aren't you, right? 

"Like you'd never get a handle on it?" you ask, subtly teasing.

He reacts to your tone visibly. His smile gets worse, which is to say better, and his voice sounds similarly teasing as he answers, "I tried to. That's exactly what you need, another old man with the wrong idea." 

"I don't think you have the wrong idea, Hotch." 

"But you don't reject that I'm old?" 

You leap to correct him through laughter, surprised at his quick wit, and he leaps to let you know he's kidding through his own. You tell him while things are warm that you'd like to go to dinner with him, if he really means it, and he holds one of your hands like a prince, thumb ghosting over your knuckles, unafraid of the calluses on your hands. He touches you like you're made of glass. 

You try to give him back his jacket before he leaves, but he insists you keep it. "If you freeze before I get to take you out, I won't forgive you." 

Huh, you think as he drives away, waving, the sleeve of his borrowed jacket falling down your arm. Who knew Special Agent Hotchner was a flirt? 

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Basic Ao3 User and Etiquette Guide for Beginners, Readers and Authors Alike!

When editing and posting:

First and foremost:

Read the Terms of Service to make sure you aren't breaking any rules!

Make sure to tag everything you think is necessary.

Fluff, Romance, Humor, Dark, Found Family, etc. Also make sure to include warnings about potentially triggering things like rape, non-con, abuse in any form, violence, gore, graphic depictions of such, and so on. The 'Other Additional Tags to Be Added' tag is your friend.

Use your best judgement for rating and archive warnings.

Do not tag for reach or leave something out or use things like r@pe and deth. People have the right and need to filter out their triggers!

Be aware of the difference between / and &.

For relationships, there are two different types. Be sure not to mislabel the relationship between characters and accidentally change the entire tone of your fic!

Platonic/Friendship/Family/Non-sexual: Tony Stark & Stephen Strange.

Sexual Relationship/Dating/Married/Non-con/Rape: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange.

I prefer not to read incest fics (I do sometimes, I will admit it), so I will usually skip or filter out the / between two characters if I don't want to read it. If this was a mistake, your fic will be filtered out, too!

Summary

Not required but appreciated!

Double space in the editing box

Click to the beginning of the next paragraph and click enter twice. Otherwise, your story will be all squished together and harder to read. Some people will think it's 'unprofessional' and click away. This also gives your fic a sleek appearance.

Who can comment?

As of a few months ago, Ao3 automatically set every new work to 'Only Registered Users Can Comment'. If you would appreciate guest comments, then remember to click 'Registered Users and Guests Can Comment'. If you would rather not have any at all, click 'No One Can Comment'.

Preview

It allows you to preview what the work will look like before you post it. If you hit return to work, then you'll see a bunch of code for paragraph breaks, italics, and so forth at the end of each chunk. I recommend clicking the back arrow to avoid this because it can be hard to correct things once those things are there.

Also, every time you preview, a draft is created. These are saved automatically for a month after they are created, so if you don't have time to finish editing, you can go back and finish later.

DO NOT post a fic just because you like the tag arrangement and will come back to it later. This is against the Terms of Service.

Ways to get the look you want

If you have something in italic, bold, centered, or crossed out, it doesn't automatically go that way once you click and drag. There are ways to get it done, and they're easy! Just type the following (the colored words are the words that go between these). Remember to add the / at the end or it will affect the whole fic! These aren't everything, just the ones I know.

<i>Italic words here</i>

<strong>Bold words here</strong>

<center alignment>Centered words here</center alignment>

<strike through>Crossed out words here</strike through>

Type correctly

Please remember to use your quotation marks and periods! Nothing makes me click off a fic faster if these things aren't present; it's hard for me, at least, to read.

The Archive is an archive

Don't post 'fics' looking for fics, advertising for writing buddies or fellow artists, don't post headcanons for discussion. This is against the Terms of Service and you could get reported.

I haven't reported anyone yet, but I do leave them comments to let them know it's against the ToS. If you don't take it down in a timely manner or say fuck you, I WILL report you because you can't ruin it for everyone.

Etiquette For Posting and Reading

What to do

Liked a fic?

Leave a comment! LEAVE A COMMENT! Authors love this! It doesn't matter how old it is- This isn't social media! It's not 'cringe' to comment on old works. You might just get a heartfelt reply and even encourage someone to write again!

The best are the in-depth, going into details about what you loved and what surprised you and everything else. It can be a simple 'I loved it! Thanks for sharing!', but you will be someone's personal hero with a big comment.

You did like that fic, right?

Leave a kudos! Comments and kudos are an author's lifeblood and fuel. Nothing is more discouraging than getting a lot of hits on your fic and no comments or kudos.

For posting, just follow the guide above and you should be fine!

What NOT to do

Oh, you didn't like that fic?

If you can't say something nice, don't say it at all. There's a person behind that story who put their blood, sweat, and tears into it. They having feelings, too.

But I think the fic is gross/wrong/badly written and-

Shut up. Click off. Hands off the keyboard.

But it's-

No.

Don't renew your completed fic just to get on the front page again

Not against the rules, but the archive is an archive. Someone will find your story if they really want to read it, so long as you tagged it correctly! Just be patient.

Don't like, don't read is your best friend

Think a story might contain something you don't like? No need to click on it! Take a turn you didn't like? Back arrow, baby!

It's not a popularity contest

Again, not against the rules, but sorting fics by the amount of hits, kudos, or comments gives you very few results compared to all the fics that exist. Fics only get those rates because people read them. One user or guest can only boost the hit-count of a fic ONCE in twenty-four hours. A kudos can only be left once.

You might be missing some real gems by filtering that way! There is literal buried treasure on Ao3, you just need to expand your horizons and ignore those counts on the bottom.

But this fic is so OLD

So? We read books and watch movies that were made a long time ago, right? Fics are the same thing! Read that old fic! Comment on it! Kudos away!

Hope you find this helpful! Enjoy your posting and reading!

[in1-nutshell]

Does Moon Streacker still not realize she’s an outlier, how does the realization of powers even go

Short answer: No, she didn't realized she 'flamed out'. The realization was... messy.

Hope you enjoy!

Moonstreaker realizing she is an outlier

SFW, Platonic, Hinted Romance, Familial, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Moonstreaker didn’t know what happened after she had been taken hostage.

According to Rodimus, the ship had exploded, and she was the only one to make it out alive.

Truthfully, the only thing she remembered was the utter rage she was feeling when the space pirates had threatened the crew.

At Swerve’s… Moonstreaker was nursing a small cube of engex with a concentrated look on her face. Swerve cleaning an empty cube. Swerve: “What did the cube do? Did it say something offensive?” Moonstreaker breaks her trance with the engex. Moonstreaker: “Sorry, just thinking…” Swerve puts the cube down. Swerve: “I got two free audials. You wanna unload those thoughts?” Moonstreaker smiles tiredly at the minibot. Moonstreaker: “Thanks but I’ll be fine.” Moonstreaker moved to leave but stopped when a smaller servo grabbed her’s. She looked back to see Swerve grabbing her servo with a concern look on his face. Swerve: “I mean it Moonie. If there’s anything you wanna get off your chassis, I’m here for ya. Heck, you got a pretty amount of friends that care. Just… just you know…” Whirl: “Did you finally confess yet?” Moonstreaker and Swerve immediately let go of each other’s servos at Whirl’s comment. She straightens up a bit before coughing slightly. Moonstreaker: “I think Rodimus just pinged. I’ll be on my way.” Moonstreaker walks quickly out of the bar feeling like her entire faceplate on fire. Swerve just sighs picking up her now empty cube and cleaning it. Whirl: “…So… no confession?”

Swerve wasn’t the only one to notice Moonstreaker’s odd habits after the explosion.

In their own ways, they did try to reach out to her.

Rung offered to talk to her, whether it be as friends or to schedule an appointment.

Ratchet told her to talk to Rung or him if she wasn’t comfortable in talking to anyone else.

Magnus and Megatron offered to help with her workload.

Whirl offered a day in the shooting range and then hit the bar.

Rodimus… well Rodimus still hadn’t left much time separating them.

Her younger brother was slowly becoming her shadow.

She knew this was because of what happened with the explosion… and she really couldn’t be mad at him.

If the situation were the other way around, Rodimus would be seeing her every minute of the day.

Screw the responsibilities, she was going to protect her brother even harder!

It did however get annoying after a while.

Soon enough Moonstreaker was actively avoiding Rodimus.

Rodimus walking up to Magnus. Rodimus: “Hey Mags—” Magnus: “Don’t call me that.” Rodimus: “Have you seen Moonstreaker around?” Magnus: "You should be more worried about those late reports on your desk than finding your sister.” Rodimus: “But I don’t know where she is. What if she needs me?” Magnus: “With all due respect Rodimus, Moonstreaker is more than capable of handling herself. I should know being her commander for most of the war.” Rodimus: “Still! You know what I’ll go ask someone else.” Magnus: “Remember the reports!” Rodimus walking away: “Yeah got it.” Magnus sighs once Rodimus was out of earshot. Magnus: “He’s gone now.” Moonstreaker carefully climbs down from Ultra Magnus’s back. Moonstreaker: “Thank you. I know that must have been uncomfortable and highly unprofessional but thank you.” Magnus: “I’m actually used to it. Rodimus has done the same thing to get away from Megatron.” Moonstreaker chuckles a bit at her brother’s antics. Magnus: “He has been a bit…” Moonstreaker: “Clingy?” Magnus: “Yes since your accident… are you—” Moonstreaker: “I’m doing fine Magnus, its… I don’t know how to answer it. If I had the answer I would have gone to Rung a while ago.” Magnus: “Why don’t you go to Rung?” Moonstreaker: “I… I don’t know to be honest with you Mags—I mean Magnus!” Magnus looks around. Magnus: “You have permission to calm me that…” Moonstreaker stares wide optic. Magnus: “…if you see Rung.” Moonstreaker chuckles a bit before walking away. Moonstreaker: “I’ll sleep on that.”

Finally, after a while of feeling out of the loop, Moonstreaker decided to go visit Rung.

Maybe he would give her some tips on how to get out of… whatever this was.

It was 5 minutes into the session when the alarms broke out again.

Primus… WHAT WAS IT WITH PIRATES AND TARGETTING THIS SHIP!?

It would later be known that the pirate captain was the brother of the other captain and wanted revenge.

Moonstreaker was immediately called up to help the others in defending the ship.

She never made it to the bridge.

All because of a rogue alien sneaking into the bar.

Moonstreaker had her blasters ready barging down the bar’s doors.

The alien had Swerve pinned down.

Talons slightly denting his armor.

Moonstreaker aiming her blasters at the alien. Moonstreaker: “Let the minibot go.” The alien snarled at her. Swerve: “I’d do what she says, she has a reputation on firing at aliens that have her crewmate as hostage.” The alien hisses and tighten his grip on Swerve. Swerve winces feeling some dents becoming deeper. A bit of energon leaks to the dirty floor. Moonstreaker taking another step forward, optics almost looked like they were on fire. Moonstreaker: “LET. HIM. GO!” The alien suddenly flings Swerve across the room and lunges at her. Swerve looked in horror at the alien’s talon sinking into Moonstreaker’s armor. Swerve: “MOONSTREAKER!” FWOOSH! Plumes of blue flames suddenly engulfed Moonstreaker and the alien. The alien screamed, immediately let go of her armor and tried to flee. Moonstreaker grabbing one of the alien’s appendages: “I don’t think so.”

She wasted no time in punching and stomping it into submission.

Swerve was still shocked seeing her lit up, literally.

Her optics were filled with fury and anger.

Swerve hesitantly called out for her.

The sound of the minibot’s voice made Moonstreaker stop.

A few seconds later the flames died down.

She looked in horror at her shaking servos and at the smoldering alien remains.

Moonstreaker falls to her knees with one servo covering up her mouth. Swerve walking slowly to her. Swerve: “Moonstreaker?” Moonstreaker suddenly remembers Swerve was in the room. She tries to stand back up, but her pedes feel heavy. The only things she could do was crawl back to a corner in the bar, shaking. Moonstreaker: “Stay back!” Swerve’s spark breaks a bit hearing the crack in her voice. Swerve continues to walk to her. Moonstreaker tries to make herself as small as possible. Moonstreaker: “Swerve please! I don’t want to hurt you! Please just go!” Swerve was now in front of a shaking Moonstreaker. Swerve: “See? No harm done… you sure know how to light up a room that’s for sure.” Moonstreaker rapidly blinks her optics from the incoming tears. Moonstreaker: “I didn’t—I didn’t know—how did this even—wait! You’re hurt!” Her servos gently ghost the small gash on his chassis leaking a bit of energon. Swerve gently holds her warm servo grabbing her attention. She nearly withdrawals it, but Swerve firmly holds it. Swerve: “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s just handle things one at a time Moonie. First, I’m fine. A bit dinged up but fine. I’m worried about you! You busted into flames! Literally!” Moonstreaker looks down ashamed. Swerve: “Which isn’t a bad thing! Just surprised! I take it you didn’t know though. We’ll get through this, okay? We are going to look back on this day and have a good laugh and--” Moonstreaker: “Swerve? Can I ask you for something?” Swerve: “Anything.” Moonstreaker chocking a sob: “Can-can you just hold me?” Swerve wastes no time in bringing Moonstreaker into his arms. Moonstreaker racked up a sob on his chassis. Swerve did his best to keep everything under control, but even he couldn’t let a few tears out. Swerve gently rubbing small circles on her back and helm. Swerve: “Its okay Moonie. Let it all out. I gotcha… I gotcha…”

[fanfiction4sooya]

Loyal dog (Sub A! Seulgi x Dom O!Reader)

This was a request, but I think I lost it somewhere 😭 I hope y'all like it babies!! 💖💖💖💖

tw: abo dynamics, unprotected sex, edging, crying, reader is a little rude, jerking off, nipple play, cum swallowing, etc.

Last board meeting went hectic. You were the head of the meeting, conducting every single detail and discussion, very focused on finding the solutions the other shareholders needed. One of them was pushing for a sale you were reluctant to accept because you really didn't find any benefit on it. A stupid alpha that couldn't think ahead like you could.

"It's not up to you to deny anything" The alpha said, her eyes were cold and her demeanor was definitely disgusted; Many alphas didn't like omegas in position of power. You felt in the depths of your soul she really wanted to say Omegas had no say in anything.

"Well, Ms..." You looked down looking for a paper with her name. "Park, isn't it?"Lifting your head, you could see her eyebrows slightly lift in this contained anger. "Ms Park Sooyoung, I do in fact have a say in this since I'm the head of the board and my success rates are high. Higher than any of yours, I might say"

She tried to make you back down by staring at you, her pheromones strong as she tried to make you submit. That was so disrespectful and rude to do on a work setting that you felt your anger bubble inside you. When you were about to say something, a more sharp voice cut your phrase through, the sound reverberating around the meeting room.

"If you have any decorum, I advise you to stop this little attempt of strength play with your weak pheromones and leave this meeting" You looked straight at her, Kang Seulgi. Pretty, collected and overall avoiding of you. Your eyes quickly scanned her and you lightly scoffed.

Another brainless Alpha trying to assert dominance.

"I don't need a knight in a shiny armor, Ms Kang. I can handle insubordination myself" You said before the other Alpha could respond. She lowered her eyes, looking at her hands as she clenched her jaw. "But since you said it, it is against the company's policy to try making anyone to submit on the clock, specially in democratic meetings" You took a deep breath a little affected by Sooyoung, but your poker face was impeccable. "This meeting is over, for now" You said seeing red, dismissing all the others and going straight to your own office.

Anger seething, your blood boiling for so many reasons. You stood by your window trying to collect yourself, wanting nothing more than to jump onto Park's neck, end that little arrogant look. You fucking hated those types of alphas.

And Kang Seulgi? Oh she was so much worse with that condescending tone and those eyes, those fucking lowered eyes...

Next thing you knew you had already asked your secretary to call her to your office. You needed to see something by yourself.

"Did you ask to see me, boss?" She entered your office, closing the door behind her; perfect posture, secure of herself and her surroundings.

"Indeed" You said. Your glasses perched up on the tip of your nose, staring at her. You called your secretary, your voice ice cold as you spoke. "Ms Kim would you mind telling me if we hired any bodyguards for me, please?" You simply asked, still staring at her. You saw her avoid your eyes again, slightly looking down.

"There are no bodyguards on the record, boss. Why? Do you need one?" Yeri asked, a bit concerned.

"No, not at all" You said. "I was just checking, thank you" That anger was still there, mixed with a little bit of curiosity.

Narrowing your eyes, you tilted your head to the right.

"You do not get to speak for me" Poison dripping, you fixed your glasses on your face.

"It wasn't my intention, I was-" She looked anywhere but you, her posture tense now. "I didn't like the way she spoke with you and that stare... You don't deserved it" She cleared her throat. "It was unprofessional"

Now that she looked at you, you could see how she wasn't being condescending. It was something else and that was definitely something... good.

"Oh, I see..." You got up, going around your desk, crossing your arms under your breasts and leaning on it. "Maybe you don't want to be my bodyguard..." You said, eyeing her down. Her grey suit was perfect on her figure, but you could see the bulge forming inside her pants. "A loyal dog, maybe?"

You saw in first hand as a sharp exhale left her lips, her hands clenching by her sides.

"Oh, you would like to be my loyal dog" She finally returned your stare, her eyes pleading in an embarrassed, conflicted way. You got up to lock the door.

"I-" She gave a step towards you and you quickly shut her off.

"Stay" Was all you said and, much for your surprise and pleasure, she did stay; a tent on her pants as she looked down. "What an obedient dog..." Your tone changed to an alluring one. Standing in front of her, you smelled how aroused she was. "What a rare finding..." You traced her tie with one of your fingers and she whimpered. "Look at me" You commanded and she promptly did so, her eyes following how you licked your lower lip.

"I will do anything you want, boss" She finally said it, eyes locked into yours. You scoffed.

"Everyone does that already" Your cleavage fully on display made her dick pulse hard and she gulped. "What makes you different from everyone else, Ms Kang?" You got closer, heat emanating from her body to yours.

It felt so fucking good to be in full dominance mode with an Alpha like Kang Seulgi. It made you feel millions of times hotter. You always pushed away your omega nature, specially against some traditions the dynamics between Alphas, Betas and Omegas required.

"I can do whatever you ask me" She pleaded, her low voice was basically a whisper. "I am very good at obeying" You took a deep breath. Wet was an understatement, you were completely soaked and your lacy panties ruined.

You pondered, really thinking about it. Office sex wasn't something abnormal. If anything, office sex was the most normal thing in this situation.

"Sit down, hands on your sides" You told her, glancing at your leather couch and she did so. You unbuttoned your white button up just enough to pull your breasts out of your bra. Seulgi visibly shivered and you stood in front of her. "If you cum unauthorized I'll stop" You said, unbuckling her belt and pulling her dick out. "If you try to scent me I'll stop and kick your ass out of here" You have a good look to her cock.

It was was absolutely hung and veiny, throbbing on your hand as you pulled your pencil skirt up on your thighs and your panties to the side, sinking in next. Yes it was big and stretched you just fine, but you didn't express any type of reaction. She moaned, her eyes attentive on yours.

"If you manage to obey me until the end I'll be your dom" You told her, rolling your hips against her cock and she grabbed at the couch, whimpering. "If you want to stop you can just ask. Understood?" You said through gritted teeth.

"yes, b-boss" She stammered, her eyes rolling back a little.

You started riding her like there was no tomorrow, your cunt sinking deliciously on her cock and coating it with your slick. You tried to, but couldn't resist her pretty lips when she made all those sinful moans, kissing her roughly with your hand tangled on her beautiful wavy hair. You pulled it back, exposing her neck to lick and bite as you set an impossibly harder pace, your hips slamming against hers.

You moaned against each other's lips and she stopped kissing you to grab one of your boobs between her lips and you yelped, her tongue felt deliciously hot against your nipple. You stopped bouncing on her lap and started humping, your clit grazing against the fabric of her pants and a little bit of exposed skin. You were about to cum, clenching and unclenching on her big cock completely stretched.

"You want to cum inside me so much, I can feel it" You decided to play dirty as she sucked on your nipples very sloppily, coating your breasts with her saliva. "Aren't you an alpha after all?" You gather every ounce o strength you had not to moan while saying all that, but the woman was a rock. Holding herself in the most painful, delicious way.

In a last attempt to make her cum before you, you grabbed her neck while kissing her, squeezing it just right to a perfect chockehold. She shivered, her body shaking so hard it felt good under you.

You were still mounting here and absolutely losing the battle, cumming so hard on her cock you saw nothing but blank spots, body slumping forward on hers as she kept taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. You tried to catch your breath, swallowing hard when you managed to look at her face.

Absolutely beautiful and that little dumb look was pathetic but oh, so fucking hot. You kissed her roughly again, holding her neck.

"You did good, congratulations Ms. Kang" You said and she bit her lip, smiling. "I could've let you cum inside me..." You got off of her lap and she hissed, you felt your legs weak. "But I didn't told you to suck my breasts" You scoffed, sitting by her side.

"I am so sorry boss, I-" You shushed her, pulling her head to your lap, commanding her to lie down on the couch and she did, her dick standing proudly erect and furiously red from all the action and no cum.

"To show you I am no monster, I'll make you cum" You said, pulling her mouth to your nipple, your hand going to her cock. "Suck as hard as you can, but tell me when you get closer"

"Yes, boss" Her beautiful brown eyes glimmered and you bit your lip. "Thank you so much" She said, putting her mouth to work as you spat on your hand then started to pump her cock up and down, swirling your hand against the tip, your thumb rubbing at her slit.

She moaned against your breast, releasing a lot of precum as her body shook. It took less than a minute of you jerking her off, that's how needy she was.

"I'm close" She said, tensing and you completely stopped letting go of her cock. She whined, her mouth still sucking hard on your nipple and you whimpered.

She didn't protest, didn't even stop sucking. She held herself again, like a good girl. You caressed her hair, starting all over again that beautiful torture, jerking her even harder, her hips shaking as you stopped once again, feeling her hot tears on your lap. Fuck, she was so beautiful.

"Shh, it's okay" You cooed as she sobbed still sucking your breasts, her eyes locked into yours. Her nose was red and her eyes puffy. A masterpiece. "It's okay Ms Kang, this it the last time..." You said.

Going back to jerking her off, you could feel on the way she tossed against the couch how painful that was but she didn't complain once. You felt your pride grow, coaxing her into her climax. It hit her hard as your palm rubbed specially against the tip.

She came hard, ropes and ropes of her thick cum filling your hand and you kept swirling her tip. She was still crying, your breasts purple with how forceful her sucking was, but you didn't mind in the slightest.

You kept saying sweet nothings onto her ear, helping her to recollect herself and to come out of subspace, her sobs felt electrifying against your skin but you knew she couldn't take anything anymore.

You took your hand to her mouth and she licked it clean, sucking on every bit of her cum she could take from your hand as you caressed her hair, being careful not to scent her.

"Good girl... you were perfect Ms Kang" You whispered and she nodded, still sucking on your fingers. "Now you are my good loyal dog" You said, excitement taking over you when you realized how this finding was uncommon...

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Never Looked Back

Prologue of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: the rest of the chapters will have more Jamie and more words. Shoutout to @buckychristwrites for letting me word vomit to her and to my wife @andr0medafallen for being a supportive baddie

Flying has never been your favorite thing, and as you begin your descent over London, you’re reminded of the last time you’d flown this far. You’d been seventeen, alone and anxious and on your way to Chelsea, brimming with excitement over finally reaching your dream.

Not even seven months later you were on your way home, ligaments torn and joints aching in a way you’ll never get rid of.

Now, sitting for so long makes your hips cramp and your knees lock and you can feel your ankle swell and pulsate with pain. You know your back would start cramping if you weren’t landing, so you have something small to be thankful for. Really, you’re just lucky that you have a few days to recover before training begins.

It hits you how pathetic it is that you, a professional footballer, need to recover from a plane ride. You try not to let it bother you, try not to wallow in self pity and hatred the way you did when you were 17, laying on your mother’s couch post-op and believing your life was over.

If only you could see yourself now, on your way to join the brand new AFC Richmond women’s team.

The idea of leaving the US was nerve-wracking, but you simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to play in England again, to try one more time to achieve a dream you’d had since you were a little girl. It was so clear that everyone you talked with truly believed in creating a space for women, to support them and push the sport forward, and that starting a women’s team wasn’t simply a way to keep up with other clubs, to stay relevant.

As the plane lands, you finally allow yourself to feel excited in that same giddy way you did the last time you made this journey. You were finally one step closer to making your dreams come true, and you weren’t going to let your negative thoughts and fears ruin it for you.

The entire ride to Nelson Road, you couldn’t help but let that giddy excitement course through your veins, feeling like you’re a little kid again and on your way to your first day of school. You can’t help but wonder who’ll be in your class, who your teacher will be. The Richmond women’s team has been kept fairly quiet, and you have practically no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

Walking through the doors, your nerves start to build again, and you think your heart is going to beat right through your ribs as you make your way to the front desk. Before you start speaking, you need to take a deep breath or else you’re worried you’ll collapse, and that seems like bad luck considering you’re here to be an athlete.

“Hi, I’m here-“

“I know why you’re here,” the receptionist cuts you off and you’d be upset if she wasn’t beaming at you, “Ms. Welton is waiting for everyone in her office.”

The receptionist shows you the way, gesturing up a grand staircase that gives you plenty of time to freak out some more, your anxiety only growing the closer you get to the owner's office. As you open the door, you wonder if it’s too late to turn and run and catch a flight back to America.

All those feelings disappear when you see one of the other players talking with a gorgeously tall woman, and you can’t help but to squeal despite how unprofessional you know it makes you look.

“Mackie!” You yell out, causing the other woman to turn towards you, a grin blooming on her face when she notices you. Claire McKenzie had been one your best friends since you both debuted for the US team together at twenty years old, bonded by your age and your bench riding skills.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks as she pulls you into a tight embrace, completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

“I’m here to play some fucking football!” You reply, feeling ten times lighter than you did in the hallway now that you know you have Mackie on your side.

Breaking apart from the hug, you feel everyone’s eyes on you and you’re wishing the floor could just open up and swallow you when the woman who must be Rebecca Welton smiles kindly at you.

“I’m glad to know some of you ladies are already friends,” she says, the room breaking into laughter and the weight lifting off of your chest.

After everyone had arrived, she took the time to introduce herself and the few other non-players in the room, including Keeley Jones, the true mastermind behind the Richmond women’s team. No matter how much this team means to you, to the rest of the team, to Rebecca, it means ten times more to Keeley. This was her idea, her baby, and you can already feel the pride and excitement radiating off of her at the sight of the team gathered before her.

You’re determined to win it all for her.

“This is Coach Kent, and Beard and Nathan Shelley will be your assistant coaches until we can find someone to fill those spots permanently,” Rebecca says with a smile, but you can all feel the tension coursing underneath the surface.

“So no one wanted to coach us?” A voice from the back of the room asks, and it’s like you’ve been drenched in freezing cold water now that somebody’s said it out loud.

“No one has expressed interest… yet,” Rebecca adds, trying to keep up her jovial facade as the players start to mutter to each other. It feels like you’re in gym class again, standing and hoping and praying you get picked for dodgeball but knowing you’ll be last again.

“Oi! I fucking want to coach you, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Roy says, sounding angry but you can’t quite place what he’s truly feeling, “and these two want to fucking coach you.” Beard and Nate nod, Roy crossing his arms across his chest as your murmurs die down, placated by his statements.

“With the limited space and limited coaching staff, there will be some days where you share training with the boys, but we’re all one big family here,” Rebecca adds, and you can tell by now that the smile plastered on her face is fake, that she’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s trying to convince you.

As you wrap up in the office and head downstairs to see the dressing room, you can’t help but feel as if the entire world’s against the team, against you. All you know right now is that you’re going to need to work ten times harder than everyone else to prove yourself to the fans, to the media, to the world.

Passing by the men’s dressing room, you briefly lock eyes with someone walking towards the pitch, who smiles as you pass. It’s so quick that your brain isn’t able to process who it is, so you try to forget it and follow the rest of the team to the brand new women’s dressing room.

The players rush into the room as if the floodgates opened, everyone trying to find their kit and their name and their number. As much as you want to play it cool, want to make a good first impression on Rebecca and Keeley and the coaches, you can’t help but grin and run with the other girls, everyone giddy as they see the kits in person.

When you finally find yours, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

It’s the classic Richmond blue, with your name in bold white above a large number nine.

It’s as if everything you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you: you’re a striker on a team you care about. You know it’s going to be an uphill battle, know you’re going to need to prove yourself over and over and over, but right now, with your kit in your hand, your team laughing and smiling around you, you think you can face it.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @scaramou @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @rae4725 @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @nicklet94 @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander

[tiddygame]

You give me goose bumps

(repost because Tumblr was being Funky on my end-- sorry!)

Ao3

Summary: Ghost sat there, trying to figure out how in the hell he had gotten himself into this situation: Lying on the floor of the safe house with a massive werewolf using him as a teddy bear. Honestly, the sequence of events wasn’t too complicated.

Tw: violence, nightmares, and a smidgen panic

It was a few days before a full moon and Ghost and Soap were on a simple, low-stakes mission. All they needed to do was find some flash drive in a building that had been abandoned. Ghost really didn’t even need to watch soap from his vantage point.

The mission was intentionally simple. Having a task force composed almost entirely of monsters did have its downsides. Every full moon, one of those disadvantages reared its ugly head.

In general, when it came to the werewolf side of things, Soap had a pretty good grasp on staying in control and not involuntarily shifting or going berserk. The amount of control he had over both forms was honestly impressive.

Full moons were a different story. In the days leading up to them, instincts always got a bit harder to defy and shifting at will would sometimes go out the window entirely. It’s why they were here, at an abandoned building. A low-energy mission to not trigger a shift, but something that needed to be done and a good outlet for pent-up energy at the very least.

Ghost watched from his perch outside as Soap methodically searched the building, occasionally catching glimpses of him through windows. Soap didn’t need his help, he was just watching the exits, making sure no one went in or out. That didn’t stop Soap from complaining to him the entire time.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Is that your official assessment, sergeant?”

“Oh piss off, you’re outside in the middle of the day. I’m in this creepy shithole looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Focus, Mactavish.”

“I am! You might be different, but I can talk while doing something.”

Ghost didn’t grace that with a response.

“Any clue why they vacated?”

“Negative,” he tried not to think about how if it had been anyone else, he would’ve chewed them out for unprofessionalism three comments ago.

“They left in a hurry, some poor sod didn’t even finish his coffee,” it was said in a joking tone but Ghost could hear the genuine unease behind it.

“Just find the flash drive and get out. Sooner you’re done, the sooner we can leave,” he replied not unkindly, he might enjoy teasing the man but that didn’t mean he didn’t trust his instincts. If Soap felt like something was wrong, he’d take his word on it.

Ghost repositioned slightly, watching the floor Soap was on, looking in the windows through the scope. He was barely able to see his sergeant, just in view of the window. He saw when Soap stopped in the middle of the room, and turned in a circle, definitely looking for something but not a flash drive.

“Soap, sitrep. What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong,” he’d never seen his sergeant so spooked. He wanted to be angry, wanted to use his lieutenant voice to tell Soap to get a move on, but he couldn’t ignore the dread that was overwhelming him as well.

“Ghost, I don’t think we’re alone here,” well fucking Christ, did he have to say it as creepily as possible?

“Johnny—?” he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, whether to tell him to continue or to cut and run, but it didn’t matter. It took him a few moments to realize that the windows were slowly being covered by a black fog. He could see the wisps of smoke curling towards Johnny.

Soap noticed it too, “For fuck’s sake, I hate dealing with wraiths.”

Soap wasn’t too concerned, but Ghost was. He quickly abandoned his perch and booked it for the building. There wasn’t much a sniper could do against a cloud of smoke.

“I’m on my way, don’t die,” he hoped it went through but the way the radio was crackling didn’t fill him with hope.

“Aff—m—ve,” he was barely able to hear what he said, the radio now spewing a high-pitched ringing as if his tinnitus wasn’t already bad enough. He had to agree with Soap’s earlier comment, he hated dealing with wraiths.

If he didn’t already know the right floor, the unmistakable growl of a pissed wolf and loud crashes would have been a dead giveaway. He climbed through the stairwell as fast as he could. He burst through the door to the fourth floor, the open office space giving him a clear view of the confrontation.

His sergeant, obviously having shifted, in the corner, growling with his teeth bared. In front of him, a wraith stalking him, trying to find a weak point. It looked at him, deciding that between the two, Ghost would be the easier victim.

Ghost felt deep within him when the thing turned Its full attention to him. Wraiths were born of pure misery, torture, and dread, and they were intent on making everyone else suffer an even worse fate than they did. (For several, several years Ghost was convinced he was doomed to become one too, until a certain Scotsman entered his life, at least.) This one was strong, as It stared at him, he could feel all his happy memories turn necrotic.

The two of them stalked towards the other, Ghost’s boots stomping heavily on the ground and the wraith imitating him despite Its floating. It lunged, only becoming tangible when Its hands wrapped around his throat, trying to cut off his airway. As utter dread washed over him, he stabbed at the thing but it turned back to smoke before it could connect. They had entered a fatal tango, though It seemed to have forgotten that there was another involved.

With the wraith distracted, Soap pounced. The tricky thing with fighting wraiths was their ability to become intangible at will. Standard protocol for dealing with one involved lengthy planning and strategizing, wearing them out before—

Oh, good god, It was already dead.

Soap ripped the thing apart in the same way a dog would its favorite chew toy. He had the thing’s neck between his teeth and was shaking It back and forth, the wraith trying to claw at his snout. It was clinging to life until the final tendons gave way and Its body dropped with a heavy thud. Ghost couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad for the thing.

While Its body was now detached from Its neck, Soap still wasn’t done. He put one paw on the thing's head and kept going, not stopping until the wraith had been separated into three parts.

Soap grabbed the throat and happily trotted to Ghost, wanting him to put his hand out.

Uncomprehendingly, he did. Soap dropped it in his hand and barked, his tail excitedly wagging away.

He realized as it was nudged towards him that it was a gift. Soap had gifted him the throat of the creature that tried to kill him. He really couldn’t tell if that meant he was lost in his instincts or if it was Soap being Soap.

“Thanks,” he was touched either way.

The werewolf barked and spun in a circle, having too much energy for such a large thing in such a small space.

“Let’s find that flash drive and get out of here,” Ghost had to fight to keep the baby talk tone he normally used when talking to dogs out of his voice. Werewolves weren’t domesticated dogs and it was beyond rude to treat them as such, regardless of which form they were in or how far in their instincts they were. Still, Ghost couldn’t help but compare the way Soap was jumping around to that of a puppy that didn’t know its size. He was far from an expert in them but he knew Soap was rather large for a werewolf; it was a miracle he fit through the hallways.

They went on to clear the building, eventually finding what they were after a few floors above where the wraith had attacked. Ghost still didn’t know what to do with the esophagus he had been given, so he just… held on to it. What was werewolf etiquette for being gifted a body part?

He remembered the whole thing with cats bringing their owners dead animals because they thought that their owners couldn’t hunt and internally groaned. Please, please, please do not tell him he is expected to eat this?

He hadn’t wanted to set it down because if Soap was in control and had knowingly given it to him, that would just be a dick move. And really, the same applied for if he was lost in his instincts, it would still be mean to simply toss it aside. Maybe he was just overthinking this.

Can you overthink being given the throat of your enemy? It seems like it might be one of those things that you can only under-think.

His pondering was interrupted by Soap stopping and sniffing the air. He let out a rumbling growl, sniffed once more, and then began herding Ghost to the exit. He wanted to ask what was wrong but it wasn’t like the wolf would’ve been able to answer. Regardless, just like his instincts earlier, Ghost knew to trust Soap’s senses.

As they made their way to the ground floor, he could hear engines in the distance.

“Ah, shit…” Why now did they have to return to reclaim their stupid building?

He looked around the perimeter and saw an abandoned truck near the fence. Ghost got Soap’s attention and gestured to the vehicle, both running for it.

When the door didn’t open, he didn’t hesitate to smash in the window. As he hotwired the car, Soap started pacing back and forth, clearly unhappy at the fact that he wasn’t able to help in some way. When the werewolf heard the engine start, he perked up and ran towards the driver’s door, spinning in circles.

Ghost stepped to the side, wanting to let him in before he got behind the wheel. There was shouting coming from in front of them, some poor guard trying to get their attention who likely didn’t realize he was staring at the people who just stole incredibly valuable information right out from underneath their noses.

The guy, somehow not noticing the werewolf, approached, talking about how Ghost shouldn’t have access to the truck. He had the advantage, already holding his gun. They needed a distraction.

Some men stormed out of the exit of the building they had just fled through, gesturing wildly with their hands, shouting, “Something already killed the wraith!”

When eyes turned to the truck, Ghost had already gotten in and put it in drive.

If the guard hadn’t realized earlier, then it probably dawned on him as he had to jump out of the way to avoid getting run over. Some others tried to stop him, but there was a reason Ghost never got a driver’s license. He had spotted a locked chain link fence gate that looked just right for their grand escape and floored it. He laughed at their panic when they realized he wasn’t slowing down but tried not to be disappointed by the lack of sudden speed bumps. Soap had his fun earlier, why can’t Ghost have his?

They cleared the gate with ease and were speeding down old, back country roads in no time. Soap had moved to the backseat (the front being nowhere near big enough for him) and pawed at the window. Ghost, still riding the high of almost running people over, chuckled and let down the window, looking in the rearview mirror as Soap stuck his head out.

Knowing him, he was probably still mostly there and was enjoying having an excuse to be even stupider than usual. Ghost tried not to watch him, but he was happy to see his sergeant so happy. Besides, he’d seen enough shifts gone wrong to know that they were lucky he was still in such high spirits after a fear-induced shift.

He felt something by his foot and glanced down at the floorboard, seeing the throat still sitting there from where he had dropped it to hotwire the car. Huh. Seriously, what in the ever-loving fuck are you supposed to do in this situation?!

When he could safely say that no one was chasing them, he pulled over and got out, Soap following, running around to get out energy that was still pent up. He radioed Price, updating him on the situation. Luckily, there was a safe house nearby. Unluckily, it was a shithole.

It looked like the military saw a house going into foreclosure, bought it, then left it to rot. Even from the outside, he could see that the roof looked one more storm away from collapse and the windows had been boarded up with plywood. The only thing keeping the walls up was the structural support from how much vegetation covered the outside. How homely.

The front door wasn’t even big enough for Soap to fit, they had to go around and find a sliding back door that opened wider (he didn’t chuckle at the fact that the front door was too small for the behemoth of a werewolf, definitely not.) It didn’t take long to clear the house, the only hostile he found was some mold growing in the corner that could probably start another strand of the bubonic plague.

Ghost went back to the main room and picked through their MREs, preparing them while Soap sniffed every nook and cranny of the house. The novelty of such a large thing in such a small area had yet to wear off, and he still silently laughed at Soap having to squeeze through the doors. The wolf continually let out annoyed huffs and Ghost knew that if he still had human vocal chords, he would be prattling on and on about how stupid the door frames were.

Once Soap had checked the house himself, he made his way back and shoved his snout in Ghost’s way, both to see what he was doing and to be a nuisance. Ghost laughed and shoved his face away, knowing Soap was about to start a campaign to make sure the lieutenant wouldn’t be able to prepare their dinner in peace.

His left hand being designated as the ‘shove Soap away’ hand, he was able to continue setting up the heating element one-handed. At some point, Ghost stopped pulling his hand away and left it on his forehead, pushing as needed. And, because Ghost’s main talent is ruining things, it evolved into his left hand scratching Soap’s ears, apparently having forgotten the most basic rule when interacting with werewolves.

“If you wouldn’t do it to a human, don’t do it to them. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger and start petting their head, would you?”

Ghost stopped and pulled his hand away, muttering an embarrassed apology that wouldn’t come close to making up for treating his sergeant like some random street dog. Throughout the petting, Soap’s head had dropped low, likely having feared retaliation if he protested the ministrations and just deciding to grin and bear it.

Soap growled, shoving his head towards his chest.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. It was just…,” just what? Instinct to dehumanize the person who just saved your life?

“Just… nothing. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

This time Soap whined and dropped his head in Ghost’s lap, staring up at him sadly.

“I know,” this time even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

By some saving grace, the MREs were ready. He set Soap’s next to him before subtly inching away, not wanting to force the poor man to eat next to him.

Soap huffed and nudged his food closer to Ghost before plopping down practically on top of the man and digging in. Ghost was frozen for a second, staring at his sergeant, before he too relaxed and began eating. It didn’t take long for them to finish up, both inhaling their food as fast as they could. Soap doing so from the increased appetite brought on by shifting, and Ghost hoping that he wouldn’t have to taste whatever the military considered edible.

Within no time Soap was stretching and yawning while Ghost situated himself at the window.

“I’ll take watch while you sleep,” he didn’t even bother trying to lie and pretend that he would wake Soap up to take shifts. No human vocal cords meant no arguing. He got comfortable, moving the curtains to just the right angle for him to see out while keeping the view from outside obscured.

Something was tugging his sleeve. Maybe the werewolf was further in his instincts than he thought.

When he looked, as expected, he saw Soap trying to gently pull him away. Ghost chuckled again, Soap always had to be careful watching his strength when shifted. He pulled his hand back and went to ruffle Soap’s ears before aborting the motion short. He’s not making that mistake again.

“Go to sleep, I know you’re tired from shifting. I’m the one that can still operate a gun.”

Soap growled. Ghost rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, “Go to sleep, sergeant.”

Soap backed away and, for a foolish second, Ghost thought that was it, that he had won.

He tried to lean back against the window frame but his shoulder wasn’t even able to make contact with the wall before something was latching onto his wrist, pulling him towards the corner that their bedrolls had been tossed to.

“Mactavish, that is enough,” he put as much authority in his voice as he could while being yanked around by a very stubborn werewolf. Ghost tried to pull his arm away but, unlike before, Soap’s grip tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt, at least, so long as he went with Soap it wasn’t.

Soap growled. Just like the grip, before it had been playful, but not now. Ghost went with him, mostly out of shock. It was the first time the wolf’s ire had been directed towards him.

As he was shoved towards the makeshift bed, he gave in, “Alright, alright, I fucking get it.”

He laid down but didn’t remove any of his gear, as soon as Soap was asleep, he would be taking point at the window.

To his great frustration, Soap already seemed to know his plan and was biting at his tac vest. If Soap was far in his instincts, how would he know why Ghost kept his gear on? Was Soap, of sound body and mind, actually throwing a tantrum over who took watch?

“For Fuck’s sake, sergeant. Pull yourself together,” even as he said it he gave in to the repeated nips and growls and removed most of his gear, save for a gun holster and a few knives.

Soap seemed pleased and pushed his head into Ghost's chest to make him lie down again. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t exhausted enough for sleep’s mercy to grace him. It was bad enough on base, but on missions, his inability to sleep was somehow worse.

His misery was interrupted by something walking in front of him.

“What the hell was the point of making me lie down if you’re not going to watch either?”

Soap didn’t answer, just turned in circles getting ready to lie down. Until he saw Ghost moving to get up. Then he switched gears and dropped himself on top of him so he couldn’t get up and paid no mind to his gasping.

“Johnny, you-,” he shoved at the wolf and let out a wheezy breath, “you heavy bastard, move.”

Soap did no such thing and stared down at him from a sharp angle, noses less than two inches apart. As Ghost got used to the weight, he was able to breathe fully, finding most of Soap’s weight was dispersed enough that he wouldn’t be dying of crush syndrome anytime soon.

He also knew he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.

Ghost sighed to the best of his ability and reached for his radio.

Soap, as expected, growled.

“I’m just grabbing my radio to tell Price we aren’t dead. Is that alright with you?” the sarcasm in his tone was heavy but Soap just huffed and dropped his head back on (and completely covering) Ghost’s chest.

Price is a traitor and he revokes any positive comment he has ever made in regards to the captain. When Ghost informed him of his predicament and the fact that Soap had trapped his superior officer, the cruel bastard just laughed.

Price told him that Soap would hear someone before Ghost could see them with a scope and that he should enjoy the break and sleep. When he complained more, Price had the audacity to wrinkle paper and tell him the signal was dropping. Bastard.

He dropped his radio on the floor and readjusted himself. Chances were, he’d still be able to shrug off Soap once he fell asleep, it would just be a bit more difficult. Johnny was leaning into him and somehow managed to snuggle closer.

/\/\/\/\/\

Simon awoke with phantom images of blood on the carpet and the echoing of screams ringing in his ears.

He was still lying there, trapped underneath his sergeant who he seemed to have woken up with his sudden panic. Thankfully, the wolf moved and let him sit up, still trying to parse through his memories (real, fabricated, and embellished) and unable to get his breathing under control.

Something was tugging his sleeve.

He couldn’t see much beyond his blood-stained hands but recognized the sensation of fur under his fingers as he grieved once again. How many fucking times would he have to go through this? He pushed himself so his back was to the wall and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

And yet they're still dead, aren’t they?

There was a weight in his lap. It was something heavy. He felt it and felt the same fur from before. He clenched his eyes tighter and tried desperately to breathe. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

He lifted his hand, feeling like he had to rip out his hair, but Johnny noticed and rooted around, getting his nose under Ghost’s hand. Ghost moved his hand away but Soap just shoved his head back under it. Simon began very hesitantly scratching his ears. In for 6, hold for 9, out for 10.

He allowed himself to relax, if only slightly, and even brought his other hand up to scratch his other ear. Simon buried his head in the fur in front of him. In for 8, hold for 11, out for 12.

Simon cried. He hated doing it, especially in front of others, but he could hear Johnny admonishing him, telling him that crying was healthy, that it was just as necessary as laughter. He always hated the weakness and vulnerability it brought, hated the idea of people knowing he was upset, but Johnny was always the exception, wasn’t he?

After an embarrassing amount of time, he leaned back and wiped his eyes. He saw Johnny’s head resting in his lap, stupidly blue eyes watching him with care. The rest of the room eventually made its way in, light trickling in through cracks in the roof and an early morning chill settling around them. Later, it would likely be so hot that the ice of hypothermia felt desirable, but as for now, Simon shivered.

Johnny wormed closer and curled around him. Unlike last night when it was meant to make sure he would stay down, this time it was to make sure as much of him was covered as possible. Simon felt bad for forcing Johnny into the role of service dog and weighted blanket, but Johnny’s not-quite-snores were rather helpful in assuring him that the wolf enjoyed their current position as much as he did.

Simon continued scratching his ears and muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Johnny huffed happily and nuzzled closer.

[1-upboys]

A quick update on my medical thing...

I want to give you guys a quick update regarding my emergency commissions.

First of all, I really want to thank you guys so much for always being interested in my art - I appreciate your support, I appreciate every single donation, every single sharing of my current commissions and every single nice word I'm receiving from you guys. It's been tough times and I cannot thank you enough. Really.

Since I really wanted to work on my mental health and actually go through some medical procedures that sadly aren't being paid by the state, I've worked a lot on collecting some money through cheap commissions to undergo it as well as inform myself on those procedures in the first place. ( I won't go into details on what I wanted to do, cause it's private - some people know and those who know, I ask you to please keep it to yourselves.)

Coming straight to the point now: I have been to Vienna last weekend and went to 3 separate, non-dependent clinics that offer these treatments. 

Two of them were absolute rubbish, they were unprofessional, therefore not trustworthy, and I felt very uncomfortable. After these two appointments I've already doubted a lot of those things. The first one even told me it would  be a waste of money if I didn't want to take any pills accompanying the treatment (which was an absolute no-go for me and a border I didn't want to cross). So my brain has already been thinking of.... just leaving it be.

The third appointment was absolutely great. The first time, a real doctor who really knew what he was talking about, talked to me. And he was trustworthy, he was honest, he was absolutely lovely and great. He also was absolutely transparent, even with the price and all (11,500 bucks… PFFFFF) But I have already decided, long before I even went to Vienna, that I don’t need it. 

The problem lies deeper than that. I learned a lot about myself in these two days in Vienna. And I learned that this is going to be the start of an era where I will obtain self love and only self love! Because that is the problem I am struggling with a lot. The lack of respect I have for myself. And this procedure won’t make it better.

The money I have collected for this treatment is now, without a doubt, useless when it comes to the treatment I was hoping to get. And the more I think about not doing it and not undergo surgery, the better and relieved I feel. 

But

The money won't be useless when it comes to my job situation - as you guys maybe know, I will most likely lose my job and the money I have collected by drawing countless commissions now will come in handy for that near future where I will maybe have to look for a new job and maybe build up my own business.

So I’m thankful for every tiny little commission you still want to buy off of me and, as I already said above, I’m so thankful for your support and for every tiny donation. You guys are great.

I wanted to be honest with you, I don’t want you to keep donating or paying commissions for a lost cause (the medical one) because that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Not at all. I wanted to let you know that the cause kind of changed now.

And that I will still offer cheap commissions until the end of 2024 before I go back to my regular prices! 

2025 is going to be a year in which I will work on my confidence and self love. It’s gonna be tough, but nothing I won’t be able to handle.

Again, thank you so much for being the best community an artist wishes for. 

Love ya all!

-- Lu

[obihiro-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Jack Verrill

~ March 25th ~

“We can do more for the people if they are not so aware of what we are trying to do.”

Login Lines:

“Happy birthday? For me? I apologize, that was private information before I became a public figure. I’m not… Used to this sort of attention. Thank you for wishing me a good birthday.”

“My, a gift? It feels improper to accept, but it would be even worse if I didn’t.”

Voice Lines:

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I worked at the kinderheim all those years ago. None of the Kamiyama family knew of my birthday, save for the sir and madam of the family. Only fair, since the pair of them hired me.”

“I guess it’s only fair that I share this bit like any other participant, but I did get a call from home. My father’s caretaker, Ms. York, gave me a ring on his behalf. It’s nice having this job. For some time, I had to cut off contact with my parents, which was painful to do. I’m grateful that I can speak with them freely again.”

“Greetings, dear leader. I’m sorry, does that make you uncomfortable, Mr. Tetsumasu? I think it’s only fair seeing that our little arrangement exposed my personal information to the public eye. Yes yes… I understand you’re in the same situation. We were just meant to suffer together, I guess.”

“‘Butler Fuel’... I see you’ve noticed my exasperation with the young master. No, this is actually something I really enjoy. I might have to hide the text, but I can assure you I’ll get the full usage out of this cup. Lord knows the both of us will need it. Hm? Oh, thank you Mr. Tetsumasu, I sincerely mean it. I never expected this sort of… Why are you apologizing? You’re meant to just accept the thank you. Fufufu alright, I’ll leave you be.”

“Hello young master. Ah yes, thank you for your kind wishes. Why have I never told you my birth date? I was never in the position to demand any special treatment. It would be unprofessional of me to ask you for anything of the sort. If it reassures you, your father and late mother have compensated for me in their own ways in the past. Well, the things needed to have me look after you so far from the manor so frequently is a benefit in and of itself. So I expect nothing more than some kind words this year from the master. …A vacation? Pray tell, what is that to a butler like me? I’m joking! Oh, a gift?”

“A watch? That’s unlike you, young master. Did one of your brothers happen to help you pick the gift? Nobody, hm? I’ll accept that answer for now. Thank you for this kind gift, young master. I’ll be sure to put it to good use. But, if you continue to lie to me, I will go prodding your brothers for some answers later tonight.”

Hisoka’s Lines:

“God, don’t call me that. Yeah, it’s weird being the leader already, you don’t have to address me like that. You think I wanted to be exposed either? I already went through my birthday mess, so it’s your turn this time. Just take this gift already.”

“Sorry that thermos probably isn’t anything close to what you probably get from the Kamiyama family. Yeah, that kid is pretty hyperactive, so I figured you could use something to help you keep up with him. I know I need an extra coffee whenever he drags us both around. So yeah, happy birthday? S-Sorry, I’m just trying to be polite or whatever… I’ll just shut up now.”

Daiki’s Lines:

“Jack! It’s your birthday! I didn’t- Bloody hell, why have you never told me the date? God, is it some dumb butler rule? Course they knew… Hey, what do you mean, in the past? How is that a ‘benefit’? Not that I’m bad or anything, but you could ask for a vacation! Don’t be daft, you know what a vacation is! Ugh, whatever, at least now I know so I can give you this!”

“Yup! Wha- Hey! What do you mean that’s not like me? I got fancy-shmancy tastes too! Rona- Nah-nah-nobody helped me? What gave it away anyways? Nothing? Ugh, Jack! Whatever, he’ll never spill the secret anyways! Good luck figuring it out! Not that anyone did help me pick you a gift! Obviously, you're easy to buy for!”

[3cremepie3]

Peppermint Mocha

. Synopsis - After striking it gold you end up becoming Nami’s assistant. Well, it turns out there are a lot of perks for “working for her”.

. Warnings - 18+, cursing, public sex, power advantages, body fluids, mentions of poverty and wealth

. A/n - First part of my OP series. Thank you for reading Luffy and a Nami Drabble are next! Please read them in order or you’ll be incredibly confused. There might be some grammar mistakes in here but idc.

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“Peppermint mocha latte two extra sugars and two extra creams, light on the ice.” Take my card it’s half off on Wednesdays with the promo.” The card was already laid on her desk ready for you to take. This gave her more time to stay wrapped up in her phone. She the social media manager was probably looking for new trends. 

You wanted so desperately to say Hi to her. Nami Swan one of your idols was right in front of you! She must’ve got you mixed up with someone else. But you happily marched down to the Dunkin in the building lobby and received her order. 

You walked through the vast hallways and you were almost back to her secluded office. Then a woman rushed out of the door in front of you. In her hands was a box full of office supplies. She dropped a ruler and you were quick to help her by picking it up. 

“Thank you.” She smiled at you. “The janitors always were the nicest. I’m only sad to leave y’all,” she frowned. “Are you getting a new job,” you inquired. “Yes, I have no other choice. I can’t handle her anymore she’s crazy.” Can’t handle who?” It was your first day at the company and there was already trouble. “You’re a beautiful girl so soon you’ll understand.” But please before you go give this note to Swan.”

You took the note from her still concerned but it was too late to worry about it she went down the flash elevators and by now she would be lost. Not like you had any time to worry either Nami was still waiting. “Here you go ma’am just as you asked.” 

You sat down the coffee and the note the mysterious woman wrote for you. “Thanks, Kalifa I need it since today’s a long ass day.” She sighed before finally looking up from the screen that captivated her. “Who are you and why are you in my office?” She looked you up and down wondering how she could even mistake you. “My bad sweetie I thought you were my assistant.” 

“It’s okay no problem,” you smiled. “If I’m not mistaken she left you this letter.” You pointed to the letter you left on Nami’s desk. “The god-forsaken letters I’ve got 4 of this month,” She sighed. 

She took a sip of her coffee while reading. “We’ll looks like I’m out of an assistant for the 4th time this year. That’s a record of mine,” she chuckled. Who in their right mind wouldn’t work for you?” Oh honey 24 others!” They always leave after realizing the extent of work that we do. They think it’s just sunshine and rainbows. Then the documents and endless coffee orders come.” 

“And im stuck with no two weeks notice.” Wow I’m sorry about that Miss that is so unprofessional. If I worked here under you it would be a dream come true! Your eyes lit up at the thought. “But you do work here other wise you wouldn’t be in my office.” 

“But I’m just a janitor that doesn’t count for much.” So you really want to work here huh,” She asked. “Yes it’s been a dream of mine forever I loved your guy's toys.” Well, you are already in my room now and I have no assistant.”

“Why don’t you just fill in until I can get another one?” But I’m not trained in that position I wouldn’t want to mess up.” Don’t worry about it I’ll teach you the ropes. Come on just say yes it’s more fun than cleaning after all these people who already have ocd anyways.” She finished up her coffee in between words giving you extra time to think about things. 

“Yes,” you squealed. “Okay then let’s go back downstairs then. My coffee order is wrong.” Oh no, I’m sorry,” you frowned. “It wasn’t your fault it was those idiots downstairs.” Nami stood up towering past you into a door in the corner of her office. It opened up to a second lobby this one was empty and adorned with wooden statues.

“So pretty!” You marveled while feeling the handcrafted piece. “Franky made those he’s an expert carpenter.” Wow, the Frankie! He’s an icon  I remember watching him on TV when I was younger.” 

“How old are you sweetheart you say that like it was a while ago?” You arrived past all the wood displays and into a private elevator. It was small and only big enough to fit about 3 people. It felt even more suffocating with Nami so close to you. 

Her perfume smelled nice like tangerine and tulips. “I’m 19 about to be 20,” you bragged. “Wow if only I was that young again,” Nami laughed. “Well, how old are you?” 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age,” she scoffed. “Sorry ma’am.” I’m only joking I’m 40 honey about to be 41,” she groaned. “You don’t look a day over 20,” you gasped. “Haha don’t flatter me,” she blushed. She walked out of the elevator after it landed on the first floor. 

“It’s not flattery I’m serious,” you trailed after her. “Wow, we got here quick.” You were already approaching Dunkin. Nami speed walked ahead of you irritated about her coffee. “Camie.” She yelled out at a green-haired employee who was behind the counter. “How many times do I have to tell you liquid sugar.”

“I can’t even drink this without having to swirl it around because nothing dissolved.” You’re lucky I like you or I would fire you on the spot,” she spat. Nami had a temper on her that you didn’t want to cross. But she was hot when she was mad the way her eyebrows furrowed and her cheeks turned red was probably the closest face to the one she would make while degrading you. 

“Stop y/n,” you spoke aloud. “What was that,” Nami asked. “Nothing!” You straightened up god you were gay! “Really you look a little funny,” she teased. “I’m fine!” Okay if you say so. You know what Y/n let’s just go I’m tired of coffee because a certain someone always gets my order wrong.”

You heard the other women working at the cafe laugh at Nami’s joke. The green-haired girl smiled too embarrassingly. “Where are we going, Ma’am.” You asked following after the sound of Nami’s pumps. You were too distracted by the gold carvings along the marble floor to look up. And by the time you did you bumped into someone. 

“Are you alright honey?” You looked up to see no other than Nico Robin. “I-I I’m f-fine,” you blurted. “I’m sorry oh my god are you hurt anywhere?” I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were.” You checked for any scruffs on her. 

“I’m sure she’s fine Y/n,” Nami interrupted. “Nami’s correct I received no damage,” Robin agreed. “That’s good,” you huffed. “Is this one of your friends Nami?” She’s my new assistant starting today! Isn’t she just lovely?”

“Yes at first I thought she was a janitor.” You looked down at yourself humiliated that you forgot to take off your uniform. “Yeah, it’s a new policy my employees can wear whatever they please.” You sure it’s new,” Robin interjected. “Before I could’ve sworn I saw one of them wearing vibrating panties.”

Nami scoffed crossing her arms. “While that’s her business I couldn't do anything to stop her.” You could if you were the one controlling them.” The whole time they bickered you stood there in between the two of them. “Ahem,” you coughed. “I thought we were gonna leave.” 

“Oh yes let’s go Y/n maybe I’ll pick you up a pair of those panties since they’re a part of our uniform,” she smirked. Nami walked off and waved bye to Robin who gave you a warm smile back. “Eeek,” you squealed. “I just met Nico Robin!”

“I’m not getting the hype Y/n.” She’s one of the most important people in this company! She’s also one of the dreamiest,” you drooled. “I can’t disagree with those statements.” Nami rolled her eyes. You guys made it outside of the lobby now you stood waiting while she called for her car back from the valet. 

Her driver opened up the door for you both and you hoped in the back after her. “Where going to the mall drop us off at the side entrance,” she instructed. The driver shook his head and started off. You looked out the window of the unfamiliar area. You had of course heard of the MerryGo corporation but you had never set foot around the boogie area. 

Even with your Sunday best on people could still probably tell that you were an outsider. “Why did you want to work at our company Y/n?” Your guy's toys saved me when I was younger I want to spread that joy to other children.” 

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Thanks, it was hard to find any work so I had to settle on being a janitor.” We are in high demand this year well at least you got promoted.” Yeah, I would’ve never expected this.”

“And another question. Are you a lesbian I got some vibes back when you talked about Robin?” You laughed at her randomness even though you could tell she was serious. “I’m sorry! It’s just that was sudden but no I’m Pansexual.” Oo so you like a bit everything,” she assumed. 

“Yeah pretty much!” Why wouldn’t I when there’s so much beauty in the world.” Tittes,” she responded. You both chuckled as she gave no context. “And pussy,” she added. “Even though you gave nothing I understand.” Women really are top tier.” 

After what felt like hours of talking about tits you arrived at the mall. “Let’s stop at Nordstrom first.” You walked over taking her purse to unburden her. “There’s no need for that.” I have to start acting like your assistant somehow.”

“I’ve done nothing so far.” Well then okay thanks for taking my bag those cross bodies do dig into your shoulder a bit.” I know that's why I use backpacks they’re immature but so cute.” Well, there’s some of them in Nordstrom maybe you’ll see something you like.” 

“I hope so,” you cheered. You guys walked into the store a sales assistant quickly followed after the both of you. “Hello is there anything you’re looking for in specific today?” Yes, we need form-fitting button-down tops.” Okay, right this way!” You followed after the lady through rows and rows of mediocre clothing. 

Nothing was catching your eye you had a peculiar style. A style-only thrift store with random selections would fuel. “What about this one Y/n? You can even wear it without a bra and it’ll still give you lift.” She held it up to your chest. “It’s cute.” You shifted around wanting to get out of the store. 

“You know I can tell when you’re lying right.” Her face dropped. “I’m sorry I just have a very different style from typical office wear.” Hmm okay, so what do you like?” You took this time to pull out your Pinterest. “If only I had an app like this when I was your age I would’ve saved so many fashion disasters.” 

“There’s a store I think you’d like it is across the street, however.” I don’t mind walking.” You were so excited since Nami had great fashion taste. Her tight business set and tall pumps gave her such a sexy secretary look. “Look both ways before you cross the street.” She held out her arm which blocked you from walking further. 

You must’ve been too busy staring at the way she strutted across the crosswalk because a car almost ended you. “Thank you I definitely was not paying attention.” God, please don’t tell me my assistant is an airhead.” I am not,” you pouted! You jogged across the remainder of the sidewalk. 

You and Nami arrived at the boutique she was talking about. The display windows were filled with intra-quit blouses that spilled off the tall mannequin figure. “Wow, it’s perfect!” I knew you’d like it,” she smiled. 

You walked in and explored like a child in a candy shop. “Y/n over here.” She called you to their formal wear section. “Pick up whatever you want I’ll be waiting in the dressing rooms for you,” she instructed. “Okay.” A sales clerk helped you further holding the large amount of shirts you picked up. 

Finally, once you were done you moved everything over to the dressing room. “Wow this is like all those movies,” you giggled. “What do you mean? Nami looked at you confused. “Like the type of dressing room in movies. Where the bride finds the dress that’s the one.” 

“Oh, I get it well welcome to luxury.” A woman stepped in with the both of you. “Hi I’m Perona I’ll be your seamstress for today.” Her cold hands ghosted over your arms spreading them out. You stood there for a couple minutes getting measured. You giggled every time she got too close you couldn’t help it. 

The only time someone had been this close to you was when you got kissed. “You’re so sensitive Y/n,” Nami teased. “I finished measuring it’s time to try out what you picked.” I picked up so many Ms. Nami can you pick for me?” Sure how about that skirt with the ruffles.” Perona handed you the skirt. At first, you were nervous to undress in front of them but they assured you that they had seen it all before. 

Luckily you had worn some decent panties today. “Cute panties I love the cherries,” Nami complimented. “Stop looking,” you blushed. She laughed a bit at your timidness. “You’re too cute sweetie now let’s see that skirt.” 

It was a perfect fit but one thing bothered you. “It’s like a belt so cute,” Nami pointed out. It was so short your ass almost hung out. But after twirling around in the mirror you did realize you looked amazing. 

“Is it too tight,” Perona asked? “No, it’s good.” I’m glad you’re such a cool boss Nami. Any other office place would fire me on the spot if I was wearing this.” There are pros to working for me,” she mentioned. Perona handed you some other skirts most of them being what Nami picked for you. 

You realized one thing. She liked to see you in skin-tight leather. You even got a matching body suit and jacket set. “I look like a biker.” Your hands traced up the zippers that went from your bust to your ass. “It’s so hot in all this leather,” you groaned. Nami got up and started towards you. “That’s why you have these.” Her hands unzipped your body suit. The breeze immediately hit you sending goose bumps up your spine.

“Biker chics are the hottest,” she joked. “And so are businesswomen,” you blurted. Nami was right in front of you her hands ghosting your waist. “Wanna know who’s hotter than a biker chic?” Sure.” A naked one,” she admitted. “Why don't I help you strip down, she offered. Her legs rubbed together ever so slightly awaiting your response. “Come on let the girls breathe,” she smirked. “Can you do it for me my hands are broken all of a sudden.” 

“Of course anything for you.” Her hand dragged down your stomach then it bunched up the remainder of the body suit. She pulled you closer to her so close that she could feel your rapid heartbeat. Your eyes darted anywhere but hers as she pulled your shirt up.

A hiss fell from your lips as both her hands wrapped around your shoulders to your back unloosing your bra strap revealing your tits on full display. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “I could take you right now if there wasn’t that woman and the ghost of nosy employees watching.” 

“Ugh I hate pda,” Perona groaned as she walked in. “If you have enough money to buy all this you have enough money for a damn hotel.” She was right and Nami knew so too but she was Nami. “Shut up bitch I’ll give you 5 thousand right now if you give us some alone time.” She stepped out of the room accepting Nami’s offer. 

“I need a taste of my new assistant.” Now you understood what Kalifa the frantic woman you met earlier was trying to relay to you. As soon as the door closed Nami began to palm at your tits. She massaged the soft mounds like they were freezing and needed to be warmed up despite how hot your body was becoming. You felt the need to strip from the other layer that held your heat. That being the panties she complimented earlier. A string of your wetness followed them to the floor.  

Her leg that was adorned with her nylon stockings went in between your thighs rubbing against your drooling pussy. “This is the best day ever,” you moaned. Nami’s lips wrapped around yours silencing your excited pleas. The kiss was hot and intoxicating enough for you to not realize that she backed you against the wall. You were sure to smudge the mirror with your body that now glistened in a layer of sweat. 

Your arms tugged at Nami’s blazer until you pulled it off. Her hands worked on her skirt and yours went to her tight polo pulling it over her head. You messed up her neat curls but she could care less. She had her new meal right in front of her. She had you someone who was untainted by the MerrryGo company. So she couldn't let you go. She kissed you again giggling into your mouth. 

The beef she had with Robin was mostly one-sided but she still couldn't help but to brag about this lay later. “What is so funny,” you asked. “The fact that Robin was right. Don't worry sweetie this time is so different I want to keep you.” And it seems like you need me.” She was right about that you were ready to pounce on her. She held your hand and led you to the couch she just watched you try clothes on. 

She patted her lap and you sat on it. Her hand wrapped around your throat knocking out any of the airflow that you barely had before because you were choked up by her beauty. “Wanna try something? As my assistant, you need to be adventurous.” Sure, you gulped”. Get on top of the couch and spread your legs.” You hesitated but she gave you a reassuring look. 

You did as you were told and she quickly followed you her mouth meeting your clit as the couch dipped at her weight. Even after the first stroke of her soft muscle, you felt like you could collapse. But you stayed grounded as you would never want this experience to end in a million years. One of her hands slipped from your waist and into her own underwear. She began to play with herself in time with the many moans you were letting out. 

“Ah that feels good,” you cried out. Her tongue inserted your fluttering hole that kept spurting out your arousal. “You taste so good, she mumbled. “I can eat you forever my sweet girl.” Her praise was definitely mending your ego as well. It had been so long since someone was this nice to you. She took care of you well not spilling a drop of your cream.

“I paid for this you can be as loud as you want.” She was right but you still could imagine what the employees were hearing. So your moans were held back. That was until she inserted a finger inside of your inviting entrance. You practically screamed at the sudden and calculated move. “Ms. Nami ahh that feels so good. To good fuck! You exclaimed as she moved faster. Her pretty face and hair were sure to be messy as she was so sloppy in pleasuring you. So was her pussy as she began to scissor herself focusing on her sweet spot. 

Her moans sent vibrations into you further bringing you closer to the edge. Your legs couldn't take it anymore you were going numb. Your back arched sending you down onto the seat of the couch. Nami’s mouth followed you not latching off. “So go damn hot.” You turned around admiring the sight of the woman that was about to come undone just from eating you. 

She looked up her eyes meeting yours. You could feel her smiling as she came undone wetting the cushion underneath her. Two of her fingers curved inside of you bumping against your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head from the pleasure. “Do I really feel that good?” Yes! You were quick to respond not having any more breath left to say anything. 

She knocked the air out of your lungs. And as you came you became a light-headed hyperventilating mess. Your eyes closed tightly together as you rode out your orgasm on her greedy tongue. Flashes of what Kalifa said went through your mind. But you couldn't afford to care after you just got the best head of your life. 

“Y/n you okay?” Yes, you exhaled.” Your head was banging as there was no blood flowing into it. Nami helped you to get redressed and you walked out of the dressing room. Employees stared at you both obviously fucked up girls. Perona even laughed as Nami paid for your items. You knew the store was a boutique but damn the clothes were expensive.

Not to mention the 5 grand Nami promised to pay her on top of everything. “Jesus.” You winced after seeing the total was 12 thousand dollars. “This is little money for me sweets Don't worry about it.” She swiped her black card and paid with no problem. Her arm was still around you helping to lead your shaky body. “Wanna pick up your actual uniform or do you want them sent to your house like the clothes.”

“What do you mean actual uniform?” The vibrating panties, she reminded you.” I thought that was just something Robin made up.” Nope, they are the real deal.” That and my peppermint mocha are something you'll be hearing about often.” 

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

I've seen so many posts lately about how actors are so unprofessional or actors are too sensitive about dating rumors and can barely look at each other in interviews. I'm sure a lot of this is still stemming from the drama between two of the actors on Outer Banks. I have such mixed feelings about this issue.

Usually in response and agreement to these posts people will point to actors in older shows like James and Joy from One Tree Hill or Josh and Katie in Dawson's Creek. But I don't think that's a fair comparison. Here's the thing. I can tell you exactly why actors are so cagey now vs then. Because social media barely existed back then. Ya'll stans are super disrespectful and disect every single word and facial expression from them. You're rude and obnoxious and then you get annoyed when they don't act the way you want them to? How would you feel if you had a friend and everyone was constantly saying that you were dating or the other end of the spectrum every facial expression would be construed that you hate the person. I really believe that actors should stay so far away from the internet. It's toxic and negative and it understandably could affect your working relationships. Josh/Katie and James/Joy had the distinct blessing of not totally being under that microscope so by the time that they were, they were older and wiser and I'm sure that they can easily block that noise out vs the younger actors today getting death threats and other various disrespectful words online. I personally get it.

I have seen people say that Rudy shouldn't ever work in the industry again and I think that this is a very nuanced situation and I'm still of the belief that Rudy and Madison have been very unprofessional. I'll get into why I believe that in a moment. But I also think that it is important as an actor to create boundaries and get out of toxic situations. Professionalism can be taken too far. I think that "too far" is something decided by the actor themselves. But look at One Tree Hill. The women in that show were abused by the showrunner and forced to do a lot of things in the name of being "professional". I actually think it was totally fine if Rudy asked to be written off of the show. We don't know what the environment was like behind the scenes. In general we need to normalize allowing actors to stand up for themselves and also care about their own mental health. There's no reason to put a fuckin show above your own mental health and wellbeing.

The only thing I thinks actors owe is not puncturing our view of the characters and the onscreen relationships and toxic drama behind the scenes can puncture that especially in the case of Rudy and Madison where they seem to hate each other. People found out about the drama after behind the scenes pictures were leaked showing that Rudy and Madison had body doubles to do a simple hug scene or a scene of Kiara lying in JJ's arms. I've heard of body doubles being used in sex scenes which is pretty normal. Stunt doubles are even used in running scenes or more extreme stunts... also very normal. But it is not normal to need body doubles for a little scene where you are lying in the other person's arms. This to me speaks to an unproffesionalism. Those pictures were bound to be leaked and had those pictures not shown two people who can't even lay next to each other then I don't believe that JJ's death would have led to speculation that it had to do with him asking to leave the show. I also believe that none of the actors on any given show should spill tea about inner drama between fellow actors.

So to recap... asking to be written off a show is totally fine. Asking for body doubles in small little interactions between you and your costar is unprofessional. Spilling tea about drama between any of your costars is unprofessional. Fans being disrespectful and acting like they know all the inner workings of two actors relationships is insane and needs to stop. We need to stop shipping two actors at least in ways that the actors could see. If you wanna ship them in your innermost thoughts then go right ahead. Also if they are dating currently in real life it's totally fine. But learn boundaries. Like stop attacking Kelsea Ballerini just cause you still want Chase and Maddie to be dating. It's great that Chase and Maddie have able to be so professional in the face of fans weird ass behavior but it still needs to stop. Stop shipping two offscreen friends. Ya'll are making it weird. IF Rudy and Madison do hate each other now maybe it's cause of ya'lls weird ass behavior. Little disclaimer. I don't know for certain that Rudy and Madison hate each other but it does seem like the proof is stacking up.

BTW can people stop stalking celebrities pages just so they can know the second they unfollow someone? Or can we stop making assumptions if someone doesn't wish a costar a happy birthday online? You do realize that texts exists, right? Just cause we didn't see it doesn't mean it didn't happen. Again... boundaries people!!!!

[linophrynelight]

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Legendary: Success]

Kim stands outside the back door of Precinct 41, smoking. Jean walks up next to him and lights a cigarette. He takes a deep drag and hesitates for a long, tense moment before opening his mouth.

"We need to talk."

"Yes we do," Kim replies. The lieutenant's words are quick and ready like a loaded pistol. "Your actions earlier were highly unprofessional. I understand that you still don't believe Harry has changed, but you can't speak to him like that in front of the other officers. Give him a chance to prove himself -- or at least, keep your feelings to yourself so the rest of the precinct can."

Jean frowns as the two make eye contact. Kim's voice is calm and professionally cold, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. They're full of anger, defensiveness, overshadowed by a tender protectiveness.

It's a look that's painfully familiar.

Jean maintains eye contact. "How long has Harry been sober this time?"

"Three months. You already know this, he stopped cold turkey the day after he lost his memory."

"I was just wondering if he'd slipped up yet." Jean looks down at his cigarette and ashes it. "Figured if anyone knew, it'd be you. I've known him for almost five years now, and I've lost track of how many times he's tried to go sober. He usually falls off the wagon by now, but the longest he's gone without a drink is six months."

Jean looks up again. "You haven't seen the full cycle yet, you've only seen him on the upswing. The longer he's sober, the harder he'll relapse. He won't realize how much his tolerance has gone down, and he'll be furious at himself, and the world, and at you for trying to help him. Look."

Jean leans over and parts the hair on the side of his head to reveal a scar. It's still pink, hasn't yet faded to silver against his pale skin.

"That last time, he was doing okay until a particularly difficult case. He was placed on leave for a week. I was worried about him -- what he might do without work to keep him busy. I stopped by his apartment to check on him."

Jean hesitates. "He was naked, covered in vomit. Too drunk to talk. Just kept mumbling "fuck you" and "lemme die" as I cleaned him up. After half an hour of trying to get him out of the tub I finally snapped at him, knowing he wouldn't remember anything I said anyway. I think I told him he's an asshole for always making his feelings everyone else's problem. He punched me, and I fell back and hit my head on the corner of the sink."

He takes a deep breath, glaring at nothing on the ground in front of him, then continues. "Of course he didn't remember anything the next day. He said sorry a million times but it was clear he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea that it had actually happened."

"It was like that every time he went too hard on the drink. He'd scream, make threats, sometimes hurt people. You've heard about the case with the two drunks, right? Then once it's over, the monster who did all those things is just gone. Harry is back, with nothing but tearful apologies and heartfelt promises that he'll never do any of it again."

Jean finally looks up again. Kim's shoulders are still tense but his expression has gone from angry to unreadable. He was ready for a fight, not this.

"I stuck by that asshole's side for years. I told myself that he would get better someday. That those times he saved my life somehow made up for the way he treated me during his benders, and that the apologies really meant something even though I knew he was just going to get drunk and do it again. And every time he would hate himself a little more. And then he'd drown that hatred with even more alcohol."

Jean takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on his shoe. "The thing with alcoholics is... Once they've given up on themselves, you have no choice. You have to give up on them too. For your own sake. If you try to run their lives for them, to pick up the slack whenever their addiction makes them drop the ball on something, you'll only end up enabling them. I did that for too long. And now you're trying to tell me that after I finally accepted the truth and let go, this is the time he finally got his shit together? I don't believe it."

Kim is silent for a while. He looks down at his cigarette, burnt down to the filter. He stubs it out and tosses it into a nearby trashcan, then he looks up at Jean. "I'm very sorry you had to go through that," he says carefully. The anger in his voice is gone. "It must have been incredibly difficult. I don't blame you for hitting your limit. But... I think this time really is different."

"I hope you're right, but unless-" Jean's voice cracks suddenly, surprising himself. "I can't trust him unless I know he's finally changed."

"Only time will tell," Kim says quietly.