#i do have my bad days but i'm working towards those better ones!

[heartfulselkie]

I'm sorry you're sick. I just finished three days of nothing but bed and water ): I hope you recover quickly.

🍉 for the ask game. You don't have to talk about trauma but any way you see your real world bleeding into your writing I love that shit ❤️❤️

I hope you're feeling better! I've been mostly chilling in bed and marathoning movies today inbetween napping

For the Fanfic Writer Ask Game

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

Writing is definitely an outlet for me, though I guess that's more obvious than I realised. For me, I've been able to see a lot of ways I can relate to the characters in Miraculous Ladybug (primarily Adrien and Marinette) so it's easy to let my own personal experiences affect my fic writing. Even moreso recently with the way the show's narrative has been going in regards to Adrien.

I have a history of depression and anxiety. I'm actively working with it, but its a long process and its probably just something that's always going to be there with me. A lot of it is to do with my gender dysphoria and sense of identity (or, well....lack of) so writing about characters coming to terms with who they are, who they see themselves as and who they want to be is soothing for me. It's also comforting to write characters going through their struggles but coming out the other side and finding those people that love and support them. There's a reason Hurt/Comfort is one of my favourite things to write (and read!) and I don't see myself losing my attachment to it anytime soon.

[scientia-rex]

Sometimes people tell me I'm a good person. I'm not a good person by nature, or by default. I'm a good person because I've decided that it's important to me to act like one, on a daily basis, forever.

My actual nature is that I want power. I want power and I want my life to be easy and I want other people to be forced to be nice to me even if they hate me. I want other people to have to suck up to me, I want to watch people who I know hate me suffer through the indignity of having to suck up to me. I want to hurt people who hurt me. I want all of these things in the same exact deeply recognizable way that a gorilla or a chimpanzee does. I watch those documentaries and I recognize myself, intimately. The fact that I can behave like a good person in spite of that has taken me a long time and a lot of effort to achieve.

What you feel isn't as important for your "goodness" as what you do. And you get good at what you practice. So practice your skills at being polite, pleasant, kind. Practice gently interrupting negative behaviors--whether that's someone's negative behaviors directed towards themselves, or directed towards someone else. The idea that we have to be inherently without sin is such Christian garbage. It's psychological gibberish. We want things! We want everything! That is normal and human and the key is not acting on every bad feeling you have.

I have taken my insatiable desire for power and to manipulate people and I have used it for good. I have learned how to manipulate people into coming to the doctor and taking their blood pressure medication and being honest about their recreational substance use. I have taken my psychology education and I have used it to craft a persona that makes people feel at ease. I go home at the end of the day exhausted, because maintaining a persona for ten hours straight is exhausting, but I do it happy, because I manipulated the people I work with into feeling better and having brighter days. I manipulated my patients into feeling good about their achievements and recognizing where we need to do things differently.

The hard part is that when the mask slips, people find it not just off-putting but deeply upsetting. When I explain things like "I have thought very carefully about how I would conduct a career in domestic terrorism because I would genuinely like to bomb the headquarters of most American insurance companies, but I don't see a way to do it without getting caught and either killed or spending the rest of my life in prison, and at the moment I consider that an unacceptable outcome," people go from "ha ha! my wacky colleague" to "Jesus Christ, I didn't realize there was something actually wrong with you."

Anyway, don't make your kids read the extended works on Machiavelli at twelve, my dad thought he was helping me but all he accomplished was making me sad I'll never be a king.

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part II)

The aftermath that follows is a struggle for everyone to comprehend.

Content Warning(s): N/A

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred

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The past few days have been hard for your mind to wrap around.

Ever since that particular incident you had while playing Genshin, you've been extremely hesitant to log back on. Now that you knew all the people of Teyvat were self-aware, you were scared to imagine what they thought of you.

"Have they been self-aware the entire time that I've been playing? Have they always been able to hear my voice whenever I spoke aloud? Do the Traveler and their friends hate me for forcibly controlling their movements and actions like puppets? If that's the case, wouldn't it be better for me to leave them alone without letting them know?"

It doesn't seem like there's any part of your day where you're not thinking about how to follow up with the world of Genshin Impact. In fact, it's gotten so bad for you that some of your friends have noticed your change in mood and asked if anything was wrong.

Knowing that this situation is not only unheard of but also impossible to comprehend for anyone, you simply told them that you were dealing with personal issues, which honestly isn't that far from the truth.

Eventually, you began to worry if some of the people in Teyvat would figure out a way to reach you beyond the computer should you not reach back to them soon. In the past, you would've laughed at such a thought. But now that you've witnessed the impossible, you didn't want to wait around and find out.

"If I'm going to continue playing Genshin, I should at least try and accommodate their needs and wants better."

As much as you didn't want to delay your return to Genshin any further, you felt that researching all of your current playable character's needs, wants, likes, and dislikes took top priority over anything else in your life right now.

...Well...besides your needs and wants.

First, you took note of their favorite and least favorite foods. You would feel pretty bad if you kept feeding them food that wasn't their preference. Especially since characters like Lisa and Ganyu were vegetarians.

Second, you took note of everyone's talents. While you know that some characters had passive talents which gave you extra dishes when cooking or extra materials when crafting, you felt that those jobs should be left to the professionals, such as Xiangling and Albedo respectively.

"Let's see. First off, I should probably remove the people in my party with full-time jobs, as they take priority over exploring with the Traveler. So I should probably replace any Knights of Favonius, Liyue Qixing, Tri-Commission Member, etc. However, that doesn't exactly leave me with a lot of options to choose from. Although Xiangling works for Wanmin Restaurant, she's currently exploring Teyvat for ingredients. I assume accompanying the traveler would be fine with her. Bennett works for the Adventure's Guild so that works as well. But that also leaves me with a Pyro-heavy party, which may pose a problem for enemies such as Pyro slimes..."

However, the more you spent time researching, the more pessimistic and depressed you began to feel. Here you were spending all this effort trying to accommodate to all the characters you've obtained without even knowing if they gave a single thought or care in the world towards you.

"...I never really asked if they wanted to join the Traveler's adventures. ...So...maybe I should just only use the Traveler...?"

You sighed deeply. This was not gonna be good for your mental health.

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Meanwhile...

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The Traveler didn't know what to think.

On one hand, they were happy that [Y/N] was getting some much deserved rest. On top of that, they were also happy that they got to have a break from doing commissions all the time. But on the otherhand...

They were really starting to miss you.

This is the longest that they have gone without feeling your presence and they were starting to worry if they had accidentally scared you off due to that incident.

The incident that revealed Teyvat's self-awareness.

"...You're thinking about [Y/N] again, aren't you?" Paimon asked.

The Traveler chuckled sadly. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Kind of? Paimon thinks that's what everyone is thinking about."

They believe her. Zhongli, Venti, and a few others had reached out to them over the past couple of days for any news about [Y/N]. They were saddened by their expressions when they told them they had no news to give.

“...Y/N..." The Traveler sighed.

"Hmm?" Paimon hummed in thought, "What was that?"

"...To think that was their name all along. And to even think that they may be just as human as most people in Teyvat! It’s honestly kind of relieving when you think about it.

Although they weren't going to lie. At first, they saw [Y/N] as an unknown entity that possessed them to do its bidding. It was scary at first, knowing that neither them nor Paimon were able to figure out a way to interact with or avoid it. However, after solving both Mondstadt's and Liyue's respectable crises and powering them up with newfound strength, they started to see you as a sort of companion similar to Paimon.

"Yeah, even Paimon is starting to miss traveling and exploring with them."

"Is that so?" The Traveler taunted, "I thought that at one point you were trying to prove yourself as the better guide?"

"Hey! Paimon told you already that she has proved herself as the superior guide time and time again." She exclaimed as she crossed her arms.

They laughed. It felt nice to tease Paimon like this to distract them from the lack of [Y/N]'s presence, but they were starting to feel like they couldn't keep this up forever.

"Regardless, Paimon hopes that [Y/N] comes back soon. Everybody will feel a lot better once they do."

The Traveler looked up to the night sky and watched the stars flicker with light. Paimon followed their gaze and gave a sorrowful frown.

"I hope so too."

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Author Side Notes: I had an idea.

But in all seriousness, I'm flattered by all the positive comments, reblogs, and likes from the previous post. I only expected to get around 20 notes since it was my first post but somehow I've ended up at 800+ and counting? It's almost too much for me to handle lol.

As for the rest of this story, I've decided that it will likely take around six parts for me to reach its conclusion. We've got two down so far, so that makes four more to go. Of course, that's only if y'all want to read more.

[bunnys-kisses]

hullo bunny!! i’d love to order peanut butter bars and champagne with lewis hamilton!! please and thank you <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? hit up the menu for more information! everything you need should be there, i love receiving requests so please, send em my way! i even have new items on the menu for your choosing! (been a busy baker!). as for this order, thank you for submitting, lovely anon! i hope you enjoy and thank you!

also check out the master-list!

peanut butter bars (“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, biting/hickies, lewis in love

it was the sight of you in one of lewis' t-shirts that made something bubble to the surface. it was an old t-shirt, the honest lewis thought he threw out.

but there you were eating breakfast at the kitchen island, the way you sat let the shirt right up a little bit more. lewis got a sight of the softness underneath.

and that was how lewis knew he was fucked.

the sight of you in his clothes stuck with him for the few days afterwards. when he sat in the kitchen he thought about it. when he was at the gym, it was on his mind. he wondered if you'd wear his jewellery very casually or the cost of it scare you off. he wondered if you'd wear his more expensive clothes.

you often shied away from things that were too lavish. you were probably the least expensive sugar baby on the planet. most would've easily pocketed his expensive belongings on top of their payments. but you one time got all flustered because lewis suggested that you got a better (read: more expensive) cut of meat from the grocery store.

but the entire thing spoke to something deeper. the lingering feelings he had for you. he knew of your little arrangement. while not a sex worker, you went with him to events and cheered him on at the track. you were almost a live-in girlfriend, but mostly a beauty to hang around him.

but he yearned for something deeper. he wanted to be your one and only. he mostly got that fix through sexual intimacy, while not part of the agreement. it was hard to deny the attraction between you two.

it only made sense in the end

“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.” lewis groaned as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he rubbed himself up against you before he captured your lips.

he hated being desperate, but there was something about you that made something thrum inside of him. the engine of his soul was revving up at the feeling of closeness.

you giggled and held him by the back of the head to make him look at you. you smiled, his chin was on your chest as those dark eyes looked up at you. it felt so out of character, the often cool lewis hamilton was starting to get riled up.

you cupped his face with both hands and smiled, "lewis. do you like me?" you said in an almost flirty tone.

he swallowed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you as close as you could get. he tried to compose himself as he said, "you've been on my mind for days now... i think you've made me lost it. i've never been like this with anyone else."

you chuckled lightly, trying not to show the shock across your features. you could feel the tightness in your chest. you replied, "you're a bad sugar daddy, hamilton."

he shifted up towards and leaned in for a hot kiss. his lips square with yours as he held you close to him. he replied, "then i'll have to be a better lover."

you rubbed up against him, his hardened cock poked against your stomach. you replied, "good, i'm in need of a good one." before you kissed him once more.

his hands then worked to get your bra off, followed by pushing your panties down in a feverish rush. he groaned a little bit into the kiss. this was real. you both finally crossed the line after toeing it for so long.

soon you were both naked and lewis braced his hands on either side of you. he looked down at you and he licked his lips. you reached for him and playfully dragged your perfectly manicured nails across his tattooed chest.

he exhaled deeply and swallowed. his bare cock twitched at the feeling. he said, "yeah, you mark me. i'll mark you? how about you wear some of my rings. and you can claw up my back."

you blushed a little, "aren't they expensive."

"i'd pay more to have your teeth marks tattooed onto me." he replied, only half joking. he watched your squirm and almost cover your face. he chuckled and leaned in closer to you. he inhaled your scent and felt his cock grow painfully hard. he needed the sweet release of his precious angel's cunt.

"you're insane." you giggled. flowering at the attention, you always did. you were a sucker for him. at very few points in your life did you feel like the center of someone's world. but lewis was different, the light he carried for you.

it was only a matter of time before the dam came down. he took you by the hips and leaned back on his heels. he admired the feeling of your thighs in his hands. the right amount of softness under his palms.

he laughed a little, "you feel so good. i'm sorry i couldn't be your sugar daddy. i hope you don't run off and find another." he pulled you closer to him, his cock almost touching your slit.

you blushed, "don't worry. every other man just feels.... mediocre compared to you." then tensed up a little when he teased your pussy with his cock.

he felt the tug in his chest at your words. it had been boiling under the surface for so long. to have it out in the open made him feel more alive than ever. but he was careful about having sex with you.

he slowly slotted himself into you, and his hands braced on either side of you once more. you held onto his shoulders once more. being so close to him this way was nothing new. but it still left a flutter in your chest.

you kissed once more, you dug your nails into his back as he started to rock his hips. his pace wasn't painful, he wanted to indulge in the feeling of you. while you both had your fair share of quickies, in the comfort of his nice home, you had all the time in the world,

the sound of your kisses mixed with the small squeaks of the bed. you felt protected in your lover's arms. his kisses felt like lightning in your body, it was a heavenly feeling. only topped off by the pleasure coursing through your body. it felt good, really good.

lewis was a generous lover, that was why he ended up bedding so many before you. you squirmed a little from the heat that pooled in your gut with each of his heavy thrusts.

he savoured you like a fine wine. like dishes served at restaurants on the beach in rich capital cities. he moved against you at an even pace, but even that was making your toes curl.

"please, lewis." you panted as you held onto him. chest to chest.

he rutted against you, his hips rolled in a steady pace. the constant throb between your legs made you pant with want. and he in turn kissed along your jaw. soft lips against your skin.

"you like that don't you?" he asked quietly, "like the feeling of me against you. not the first time and it won't be a last time. not even close." he voice was tinged with affection.

"i love it." you panted, "shit. you always know how to make me feel good." you swallowed back the pleasure as you felt it course through you.

"pretty girl." he purred, "but you know that. we make quite the pair, i have the photos to prove it."

you got flustered under his words as the two of you move against one another. you felt hot all over with the sweat especially down your back, getting caught by the white sheets under you.

lewis' pace started to stagger and he felt the lust course through him. he quickly finished, his cum was pushed as far as it could get. the thought made him shudder, it aroused his greatly. he panted heavily, but he started to play with your clit as he continued to rut his cock into you. it greatly overstimulated him, but he was determined to make you cum.

you held onto him, your head against his shoulder as you tensed up. you moaned loudly into his heated skin and arched your back a little from the pleasure. you came and almost kicked out your legs from the intensity.

you both relaxed, with lewis pulling you to him as he laid on his side. his nose was against your neck as he started to come down. you two held one another, embraced in your warmth on top of the covers.

"i guess i broke the number one rule of sugar daddies." lewis chuckled a little.

"that's alright. i'm pretty sure it would have happened eventually. the money is nice, but i genuinely care about you."

he pulled away to kiss you on the lips. he said, "good, because i care about you too. now." he held you close to him, chest to chest, "would you like to go again or do you want to get something to eat?"

you replied as you got out of his grasp and straddled his lap. you splayed your hands across his toned chest. you said, "well, i don't think it's much of a choice is it."

he smiled, "that's what i like to hear." <3

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[thewailingbells]

I couldn't find if you had a request guidelines. But I did see that you wrote for Thomas hewitt!

In your latest post, Thomas ended up getting on his knees and hugging S/O (gf/wife?) waist. That really did sm for me girl 😩💪🥵

Can we get another fic Where's he's literly on his knees for her (when she would do anything for him anyways). Maybe he's just had a bad day, and is showing his appreciation for her comforting him. And he's just on his knees completely submitting to her 😩😩? Feel free to change whatever. (Or not do the req if you're not comfy)

PLEASE AND TY BBG

My Love Mine All Mine

AN: I’m sorry it took me a while to answer your request, it was the end of the trimester for my school and I was very busy. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Warnings: None!

The Texas heat clung to Thomas’s sweat-soaked clothes as he slammed the front door shut, the wooden frame rattling. He stomped down into the basement, the weight of each step vibrating through the worn wooden stairs.

The loud noises of Thomas’s frustration echoed through the house, jolting you from the pages of your book. With a sigh, you set the book aside, rising from the dusty old chair. You made your way towards the basement, gently knocking on the door.

"Thomas," you called out, your voice carrying a mix of worry and compassion. "Come upstairs.” Silence was all that followed. You pressed on. "Don’t make me come down there and get you! I know you hate it when I go to the basement."

A heavy sigh came from the other side of the door, and after a moment, the sound of Thomas's boots echoed back up the stairs. He opened the door, and he met your gaze—a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes.

A frown appeared across your face. "Tommy, did you have another rough day at the Slaughterhouse?" His eyes briefly met yours before shifting to the ground.

"Are they giving you a hard time? Saying mean things to you again,” you asked gently. He responded with a shrug. It was his way of saying yes when he had too much pride to fully admit it.

You gave him a comforting hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. Those men can be cruel. You know that nothing they say is true, right? What were they saying this time?"

His hand found its place on the back of your neck, and in a hushed whisper, he confessed, "Ugly."

"You're the most handsome man I've ever met!" you declared, tightening your embrace. Tommy huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Kneel down. I want to show you something,” you said.

He slumped his shoulders, a defeated sigh escaping him as he kneeled down.

“Tommy, I think every part of you is handsome. From your arms, to your chest, to your hands, I love all of you. You know what I think is really handsome, though? Close your eyes.”

He allowed you to take charge. Your fingers worked at untying his mask, and as it fell from his face, the foreign feeling of his lower face being exposed made him shudder. Yet, that odd sensation was quickly replaced with a comforting one—the feeling of your lips meeting his.

You gently pulled away from him and smiled. “I love your face. I love that I’m the only one who gets to kiss it. I love how no one looks like you. You’re mine. My Tommy. And I will always love you more than you will ever know.”

For a split second, you could have swore you saw his eyes glisten with tears. Before you could say anything, he buried his face in your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair to comfort him. Before you could praise him some more, you faintly heard the words, “love you,” said in a gruff voice. You smiled softly and kissed the top of his head. No man was better than your Tommy.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch4

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said with a wide smile as she stood proudly in front of the large set of doors.

Your eyes could only widen as you thought of the man behind those doors. Such a powerful person was able to make Alchemax what it was. This was going to be your future boss. As nervous as you were, you had to make a good first impression!

"Stop scaring the new girl,"

Your ears perked up as you recognized the voice. Your breathing nearly halted as the doors began to open, revealing Miguel.

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

Your heart stilled for a moment as you recalled everything you had done. Your clumsiness for bumping into the CEO on your interview day, chatting with him so casually in the elevator and showing every form of weakness possible.

As you heart started to gain pace, your chest swelled with regret. It was difficult, but you held back your tears. Noticing the treat on his desk, you immediately bowed your head,

"I-I'm so...so sorry! I-I-"

"There is no need to apologize. It is I who should give my apologies. I was the one who deceived you." Miguel said with a smile.

"Ew, your smiling." Lyla muttered.

As Miguel bickered lowly with Lyla, you still felt your head spinning a mile a minute.

"Anyway-" Miguel gently shoved Lyla to the side, "I was more so enjoying the presence of someone who did not know who I was, which led me to fooling you. For that, I apologize."

"Ah-" You gasped, finally letting yourself breathe, "S-So...was I hired...because of...of my skill or-"

"Duuuuuh, girl. This guy doesn't know the meaning of special treatment. He's just a big oaf." Lyla pitched in with a smug eating grin. Miguel could only grumble to her response,

"Please ignore her statements about me. I look forward to working with you from now on. As you know, Lyla will be going on vacation very soon. During this time she will guide you on everything you will have to do. That is, if you are still willing-"

"Yes! Yes I am!" You nearly shouted before covering your mouth, "S-Sorry, I am. I really want to better...myself and you have given me this um, opportunity."

Glancing up at Miguel, you felt butterflies in your stomach as he smiled towards you.

"I'm glad to hear that." His voice was still so gentle, "Well, I have a meeting I must get ready for. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and we will see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Y-Yes!"

-----------

Miguel was the CEO. Miguel was the CEO. MIGUEL WAS THE CEO OF ALCHEMAX! AND I MADE A FOOL OF MYSELF!

The thoughts raged through your mind as you quietly sat on the bus on your way home. Biting your nail, you tried to calm down, but it was no use. Despite Miguel being so kind to you, you still couldn't stop from recalling your foolishness.

You had to make it up to him.

You HAD too.

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

"Why are you being so nice?" Lyla asked once the two entered Miguel's office.

"Am I not human?" Miguel said with a snort, "Is it so wrong of me to treat another with kindness? I am surrounded by selfish fools and greedy bastards every second of the day. It is nice to have a change."

"Yeah, but I really don't want to see her bend over on your desk crying your name out when I come back."

"Lyla!" Miguel felt his cheeks burn, "You know me better than that."

"I do. Which is why I'm totally predicting a few outcomes."

"You have little faith in me,"

Miguel sat at his desk and let out a heavy sigh. As nice as he may have seemed to you, Lyla was not wrong. As a man, Miguel already had a thought, though for a mere second, of you under him. The face you might make when he shoved his dick inside those walls of yours.

"You're totally thinking about it now, gross." Lyla chuckled, "You're lucky she's a quiet one, but....that's also a problem."

Clearing his throat, Miguel rid himself of those naughty thoughts as he listened to Lyla.

"I know. (Y/n) will get eaten alive by my business partners. I'm sure you can find a way to boost her confidence in this short amount of time."

"Against those horny old bastards? Duh," Lyla hummed before plopping herself against Miguel's couch, "It's her I'm more worried about."

"She hasn't-"

"Every women who tries to enter your life has fled because of her. You're lucky I have the biggest pair of balls in his city to even stand a chance against that snake."

"I recall...I wonder if she still has your bite marks-"

"Bitch better! They were sharp and clean from my dental appointment!" Lyla huffed before fixing her hair, "But even so, not even I am capable of preparing someone against her. I fear that your new assistant will be eaten alive."

"Then I'll be the only one of us to have faith in (Y/n)."

"Hm,"

-----------

Miguel inhaled deeply as he stood against his balcony, enjoying the quiet night. It felt strange to not be so stressed out after a long day of work. Taking a sip of his drink, Miguel couldn't help but recall your expression from earlier.

You looked like a deer caught in headlights once Miguel revealed himself. Your face turned bright red and your words fumbling with each other. It was cute. Miguel assumed that you were overthinking and panicked.

But, he still had faith in you. You hadn't made any sort of move to try and win him over yet. Most tend to try and meet with Miguel after hours. Instead, you sent another apology email for your actions and for the salty snack.

"How has such a little mouse survived this long? In this city of predators like myself?"

Humming to the thought, Miguel also recalled that 'snake' that Lyla brought up. All Miguel had to do was hide your existence for the next few months and you'll be fine.

"Hm, but will she be fine against me?"

---------

It was day two of you officially working at Alchemax. Lyla was going to show you the ropes.

However, you had to get Miguel's morning coffee.

"Miguel turns into such a grumpy beast when he doesn't have his coffee. I've already memorized his order, but I wrote it down for you along with the place we get it from. I also put my order on there, and feel free to get yourself something."

"A-Are you sure? This is the company card." You stuttered, feeling a little nervous about a simple coffee run.

"It's Miguel's card and he doesn't mind. Once we've all had our energy, I'll start showing you the first morning tasks."

"Okay,"

You tried to stop shaking as you put the card and paper in your wallet. Hurrying downstairs, you tried to calm down. This was your first unofficial task for Miguel. A simple coffee run. How bad could it really be?

------

You shuddered as you stood in front of your old job. Your hands trembling as you held the piece of paper in your hand. You hardly worked this early in the morning, so it would make sense why you never thought of Alchemax workers getting their coffee from here.

Hell, you hardly even noticed how close the two jobs were to one another.

Inhaling deeply, you made your way inside. Sweat rolled down your neck as you saw your old co-workers in the middle of a rush. Each of them yelling out orders and ingredients. As long as they stayed busy and didn't notice you, it would be fine.

"Wel-Oh! (Y/n)! Nice of you to join us."

And there was the hostility.

"What?! She's here?! After she didn't show up for my shift yesterday?!"

"....I....quit...." You whispered, trying to hide behind the line of people waiting for their order.

"Well since you're here, clock in and help us."

"I....can't," You tried to say.

Didn't your manager tell everyone that you quit? You made sure to call them last night to inform them that you weren't going to work there anymore. You quit this toxic job for Alchemax. So why, why is everyone still so harsh?

"(Y/N)! We need the help!" Another coworker yelled out.

You were shaking as everyone started to stare at you. The paper in your hand starting to crumble as you shook. They didn't need your help. You were just going to make a mess with how busy it was. They just wanted to yell at you.

"I-I can't! I'm just here for my new job!" You nearly cried out.

"Tch, what a liar."

And there it was. You lowered your head as the line kept moving. The stares you were getting were intense. Everyone probably thought that you were an asshole. As you waited, you felt your phone buzz.

"H-Hello?" You stuttered.

"Ah! (Y/N)! I hope it isn't too late, could you-"

"(Y/N)! I heard from the others that you refuse to help, especially after not showing up yesterday. We need to have a word in my office." Your morning manager hissed.

"B-But...I-I-"

"It seems busy. I'll text you the item." Lyla said before hanging up.

Oh, how you wanted to cry. What were you to do? You could never stand up to the managers. Why didn't the night manager inform everyone that you quit?

"To. My. Office."

"What seems to be the problem?"

Your breathing hitched as you turned to find Miguel. You couldn't hold back the tears as Miguel placed his hand against your shoulder. It was amazing. Everyone immediately froze as they stared at your new boss. Were you the only one who didn't know that he was the CEO?

"You're-" Your manager snapped out of his shocked state, "I was just going to handle my associate about her teamwork and customer service."

"Your associate?" Miguel scoffed, "From my understanding and resources, she quit your establishment last night. (Y/n) works for me now. If this shop doesn't wish to treat my associates fairly, then Alchemax will gladly take our business elsewhere." Miguel said firmly, motioning you to follow him out.

"I'm sorry, sir! We weren't aware that she quit. Please, allow us to make you your drink on the house-"

"We don't need your charity. Instead, apologize to her."

"S-Sir, I...I really-"

"Don't let them talk down to you as if you're nothing," Miguel whispered in your ear, "You deserve to be treated fairly."

As if something was stuck in your throat, you could only nod towards Miguel. Glancing towards your old manager, you waited for his forced apology. You still didn't like the stares. You knew that you could never come back here after this.

It took a minute, but your old manager finally apologized. Miguel just smirked before walking you out of the shop. Finally feeling like you could breathe, you turned to face Miguel once you were a good distance away.

"I-I'm sorry for causing t-trouble...B-But...How did you know I-I was there?" You asked with a stutter. Miguel removed his hand from your shoulder,

"I normally come in a little late to give Lyla her 'beauty time' as I call it. It also gives her time to get my morning coffee without having to rush. I tend to take this route every now and then and couldn't help but notice you in the café."

"I'm sorry I'm being a burden already," Frowning as you lowered your head, you stared at the crumbled paper in your hand, "I couldn't even get this right-"

"Don't cry," Miguel hushed, lifting your chin, "You can't blame yourself for the foolish acts of others."

"I'm sorry," You whimpered once more. Miguel just let out a soft sigh, wiping a tear away,

"Come. I don't have a meeting for another hour or so. Why don't we spend some time looking for a new coffee shop? I wouldn't want you going back to that hostile place."

Watching Miguel hold his arm out, you sniffed as you calmed down. Lyla said that Miguel was a beast without his coffee, but he was still ever so kind to you. Taking his arm, you gladly took Miguel's offer as you spent some time getting to know your new boss.

---------

Lyla pouted as she sat in her office, staring at the clock.

"Where the hell is my coffee?"

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

Next Chapter

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[railingsofsorrow]

I hate you, until I don't

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 

pairing: s.reid x reader 

w.c: 3.6K

warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Coffee] 

Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  

You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  

“Why are you so angry?” 

“I'm not angry.” 

You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  

“Um. Okay.” 

Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  

You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  

By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  

You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  

You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  

You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 

“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 

You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  

“Don't call me honey.”  

Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 

His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 

By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Ambulance] 

“If you had listened to me—” 

“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 

Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  

He does exactly that.  

“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 

You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  

“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 

“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 

“Shut up, Reid.” 

“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 

“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 

“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  

You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 

“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  

However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  

Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Book] 

“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  

You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 

“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 

“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 

“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 

You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 

“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 

“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 

Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“No.” 

You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 

“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 

“I don't have to promise you anything.” 

“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 

You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  

He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 

Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Drunk Confession] 

“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 

Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  

“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 

Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  

“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  

JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  

Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 

“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 

“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 

It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  

And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  

Great.  

“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  

“Be my guest.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 

Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“I just told you—” 

He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  

You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  

“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 

Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 

A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  

He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 

“You would never do that to me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 

“What?” 

He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 

"Oh, it's gonna rain." 

"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 

"Are you nervous?" 

"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 

You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  

“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 

“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 

“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 

Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 

"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 

He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  

"Right." 

How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  

“Are you still thinking about it?” 

Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 

“Why not?”  

He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  

“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 

Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 

Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  

“Did I?” 

“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  

“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 

He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 

“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 

You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 

His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 

“We're here.” 

He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 

“You want me to go?” 

Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 

“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 

“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 

“Are you testing me?” 

You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  

“Why would I be testing you?” 

“To make fun of me.” 

Your eyes narrowed in slits.  

“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 

Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  

You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  

“You're so cute.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 

“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  

"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 

"You're so annoying,"  

"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 

"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 

"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  

You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  

Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  

"What?" 

"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 

"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  

He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 

"Mhm, is that so?" 

He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 

Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  

"Do what, genius?" 

"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  

Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  

"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  

There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  

You don't know which one is worse. 

He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  

"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  

It's not what you get. 

"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  

You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  

"Will you want to stay over then?" 

Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 

You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  

"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  

God, he hates you.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden 

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Butter

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️

September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.

It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.

If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.

You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.

‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’

You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’

‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’

Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’

You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’

‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’

Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’

‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’

You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down. 

Especially when the man looks like this.

Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’

‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern. 

‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’

When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’

‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’

He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’

‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.

He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’

‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’

He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’

‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’

‘Two, actually.’

Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.

Interesting.

You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’

‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’

Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’

The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’

You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’

You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.

Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’

‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’

While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.

Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’

You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’

Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.

The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.

There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.

‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.

‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.

You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’

He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’

‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’

If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.

‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’

Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’

He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.

‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’

He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’

Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’

‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.

You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips. 

‘Can I, now?’ he teases.

You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’

Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.

‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’

He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’

You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it. 

Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’

‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’

He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’

You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’

Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’

You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’

‘Sarah.’

‘What colour does Sarah like?’

‘Any and all shades of pink.’

‘I can work with that.’

Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’

Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’

Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’

He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’

You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.

‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.

Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘

‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’

‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.

You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’

‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.

‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’

‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’

‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’

‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.

‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.

‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’

Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.

‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.

‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’

‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’

Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.

You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’

‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’

‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’

‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’

‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’

Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.

‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’

‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’

‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’

‘You been?’

‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’

You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’

‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’

‘Fourth, actually.’

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’

‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’

He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’

You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’

When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’

‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.

Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’

‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.

‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.

'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.

'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.

You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.

Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard. 

You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out. 

‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’

He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.

You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.

‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.

But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’

Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’

‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’

Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’

When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.

‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.

‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’

‘I like the sound of that.’

‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’

You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’

Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’

You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’

You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.

He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’

‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’

Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’

‘How?’

Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’

‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’

‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.

You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’

He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’

Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’

Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’

More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...

The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳

[latenightdaydreams]

I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.

It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶

Laundry Day (fem)

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff

.

.

König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.

König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.

“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”

“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”

“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.

At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.

“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”

“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.

You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”

“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.

You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.

“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”

“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.

You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.

“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.

König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.

“Do you understand?!”

“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.

“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused. 

He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next. 

Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.

As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.

“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.

“What?”

König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.

“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”

“Sure.”

König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.

“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”

He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.

“And I’ll never do it again.”

“And?”

“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”

You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.

“Good. I also want a massage.”

“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.

“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”

He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.

[livelaughpeg]

I'm writing this from a throwaway account, because you know...Scientology.

I want to preface this post by saying I am not one of those "I knew it all along!" people. I can't stand that attitude. I was pretty ambivelant towards Neil Gaiman. Prior to the allegations, I didn't hate him but I wasn't that interested in him as a person either. I don't think you can always tell when someone is a bad or good person simply by the topics they write about. If that was the case we'd be arresting every horror writer on earth.

But one thing that did always rub me up the wrong way was the way he talked about getting work.

I borrowed and read "Make Good Art" (a small book based on a speech he gave to graduates at the University of the Arts) at a time in my life that I was really struggling to get by (I still am to some extent, but in a different way). I expected to see some practical advice. Instead it was a bunch of glib shit like:

I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it up as I went along, they just read what I wrote and they paid for it, or they didn’t, and often they commissioned me to write something else for them. Looking back, I’ve had a remarkable ride. I’m not sure I can call it a career, because a career implies that I had some kind of career plan, and I never did. The nearest thing I had was a list I made when I was 15 of everything I wanted to do: to write an adult novel, a children’s book, a comic, a movie, record an audiobook, write an episode of Doctor Who… and so on. I didn’t have a career. I just did the next thing on the list.

Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Yeah, well, no shit. If you're a writer or artist you probably do anyway. Whether you get paid for it or not, whether you draw fan art or original art. But the point of Gaiman's speech was to give advice to people who wanted to be paid for their art. To make a career of it. Making art every day isn't always enough. You have to pay the damn rent, you have to eat, you have to network and do social media and promote yourself, and you have to do it while thousands of other people are doing the same thing in a massive crowd of people who want the same thing. Practical advice is much more valuable than platitudes and theory.

I am not a writer, I'm an illustrator, and let me tell you that for most people, 'getting your foot in the door' isn't a one time thing. Quite often you have to work at getting your foot in the door again and again until you become established, and it's very easy to be forgotten. I still feel like I'm in that stage now.

I watched my peers, and my friends, and the ones who were older than me and watch how miserable some of them were: I’d listen to them telling me that they couldn’t envisage a world where they did what they had always wanted to do any more, because now they had to earn a certain amount every month just to keep where they were. They couldn’t go and do the things that mattered, and that they had really wanted to do; and that seemed as a big a tragedy as any problem of failure.

The implication was that he was successful because he wrote every day and his friends weren't because they didn't, because you know, working a second job is tiring. He called this a tragedy, but there was something very glib about the way he narrated this.

I think someone had more financial cushion that he was letting on.

And yes, sometimes it does work that way, (some people are very lucky and make all the right connections) but Gaiman was getting Big Jobs right off the bat and something about that never smelt right to me after the way he talked about it.

And then I saw Jeff's tweets. Oh, that's why...

I suspect the truth is he was living off his family's money and connections, and while I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that if you're a struggling artist, his family are Scientologists, and I don't think he ever struggled.

I suspect it's all a lie.

[notbadforafailedvessel]

Alcina x sick!Reader

Inspired by @willalove75's post ─ Reader is sick and seeks comfort in Alcina.

GIF Credit

Pathetic.

That's how you felt and surely how you looked. Walking through the halls of Castle Dimitrescu wearing your sleepwear and a blanket wrapped around you that only left your head exposed, surely didn't help your case.

You whined when your runny nose itched, your eyes watering, causing you to rub it in a failed attempt to comfort your nuisance.

You felt terrible, and you were sure you had a fever, since you were cold but sweating. Part of you blamed that as the reason why you were heading towards Alcina's office during her working hours, when you wouldn't have dared in other circumstances.

Of course you had been sick before since the Castle became your home and your Lady's bedroom yours too, but during those previous times, even when you wished to have Alcina next to you all day, you managed to deal with the fact it wasn't possible, reveling even more in the breaks she took during the day to check on you.

But this time, you were needy for her presence and attention, so desperate that your common sense was completely clouded. Nevertheless, you had the mind to knock on the door first, waiting for her permission to enter.

Alcina lifted her head when you closed the door behind you, amusement in her expression as her eyes moved over your peculiar outfit. But in the next second, when your eyes locked, she raised an eyebrow questioningly, pursing her lips at the interruption.

You opened your mouth to explain yourself, but a harsh sneeze stopped you from doing it, your eyes immediately tearing up due to the itching of your nose. You hugged yourself, wrapping the blanket tighter.

"Oh, draga..." She softened her expression in understanding.

In silence, you hurried to her, stretching your arms out once you reached her, pouting slightly to make yourself look pitiful, hoping that was enough to not being denied what you want.

Alcina narrowed her eyes at you without moving an inch, which caused to deepen your pout, furrowing your eyebrows sadly.

"Oh, for the love of-" Alcina huffed, rolling her eyes at the time she leaned forward to pick you up.

You smiled, tiredly but victorious, as you straddled her lap, sighing contently when you nuzzled into her neck, wrapping your arms around it.

Alcina chuckled softly, shaking her head and kissing you on your forehead, one of her hands stroking your back comfortingly, while with the other one she hugged you closer to her. "What on earth have you done to me, my little mortal?"

One of your hands slid down her neck to her jaw, which you traced lovingly. "I love you too," you said hoarsely. You cleared your throat, even though you knew it wouldn't change anything.

"You feel terribly bad, iubi?" she asked troubled, sighing deeply when you nodded. "I'm sure some of Donna's concoctions will help you feel better."

"Later," you muttered, shifting in her arms, attempting to get closer to her even when there wasn't any space between you two. "I want to be with you." Her cold skin felt heavenly against your warmth one.

"Draga mea... as much as I wish I could go with you, I have a heavy workload to do that sadly can't postpone."

You could've cried. Despite you could hear the regret in Alcina's voice, it was the determination in her decision what affected you the most. You loathed how vulnerable you became when you were sick.

It was tempting to beg her, and in your current state, you would have done it without contemplating the consequences, but Alcina spoke before you could do so.

"However, if you promise to behave, rest and sleep, you can stay with me."

You pulled back slightly to look at her, finding a solemn expression in those features that mesmerize you every time you looked at her.

You were unsure to what exactly she meant, resting on the office couch while she kept working? Nevertheless, you nodded eagerly, cursing yourself as you were reminded of your headache. In the end it didn't matter, you would be close to her and be able to see her, somewhat satisfying your need for her.

Alcina smiled pleased once you agreed to her conditions, and to your surprise, instead of encourage you to stand up to move to the couch, she helped you to sit sideways on her lap, wrapping her left arm around you as support and adjusting the blanket over you with the other hand.

"Comfortable, iubi?" she wondered, reaching to take the discarded pen on the desk once she was done with the task, her gaze returning to the waiting papers.

Slowly resting your head on her breast, you looked up at her with adoration. It didn't matter how many times you have experienced her thoughtfulness, it would never fail to make your heart skip a beat with happiness, knowing you were the only lucky mortal who knew this side of her. The only mortal she loved.

She looked down at you when you didn't answer, her concern quickly vanishing as she narrowed her eyes when you made eye contact, disgruntled by the pointless interruption.

"Impossible to feel better," you hurried to answer sincerely, making her chuckle.

"Rest now then. I refuse to be delayed even more this day," she warned you, but there was a trace of tenderness in her tone.

You nodded, softly this time, closing your eyes with the intention to fall asleep and not risk losing what had been offered to you.

Her cold skin helping to soothe any physical discomfort made you sigh gratefully; her presence making easier to feel in better spirits and not completely dramatic, making you wonder when Death would come for you.

Yawning, you wrapped an arm around her, clenching her dress with your hand. You didn't believe she would get rid of you the moment you were asleep, but you still wanted to have a way to avoid the disappointment of waking up without her at your side.

During the last moment of consciousness, you smiled when she nuzzled your hair to then press a few kisses on your head, taking her time before going back to her work. And you wondered if you would dare to ask her if her purring was another reassuring gesture on your behalf, or if she just enjoyed this as much as you did.

[ornateorchid]

thinking about poly 141 x reader when you have a bad day at work :/

warnings: fem!afab!reader, one moment of smut (oral f!receiving), fluff, comfort, pet names

It was another one of those days where everything went wrong. You woke up late, spilled your drink in your car, ran into the door, and had to flag down a janitor to unlock your office because you left your keys at home. And that was just in the morning. By the afternoon, you were exhausted and wanted away from everyone. Your boss had assigned another upcoming project and your group is full of the most miserable, insufferable people you could come across. They argued over everything and you just had to sit back and hope they wouldn't make you pick sides.

Usually, you would go home and cry and eat ice cream while watching your comfort movies after a day like this. But your boys were home from deployment, so you knew they wouldn't let that happen.

-----

When you walked through the front door, Simon and John were setting the table while Johnny and Kyle were playing video games in the living room.

"Welcome home, love," Simon said as he gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hey, darling. How was your day?" John asked as he set down the utensils.

You ignored both of them and made a b-line for Kyle and Johnny. Not because you favored them, but because you desperately needed someone to hold you. You climbed onto the couch and buried yourself in Johnny's arms. He paused the game and chuckled as he held you tightly, rubbing your back as you whined.

"Rough day?" Kyle asked, looking at you with concern.

You nodded, holding tighter to Johnny's shirt. You didn't even realize you were crying, but the tears were flowing.

"Wha' happened, bonnie?" Johnny asked, kissing your temple.

"I'm tired," you sobbed. "Today has been terrible."

"Aw, c'mere," Kyle said, opening his arms.

You immediately crawled into his lap and hid your face in his neck, letting him hold you close. Johnny scooted closer and rubbed your back, cooing softly. Simon and John came into the living room, both frowning.

"Everything alright?" John asked, sitting on the other side of Kyle and rubbing your arm.

"Just a bad day, it seems," Kyle said, rubbing your side.

"It was terrible," you cried. "Everyone was arguing. I didn't get enough sleep. And I forgot my keys and couldn't get into my office."

"Sounds like a shitty day," Simon said, coming around and kissing your cheek. "Did you eat?"

You shook your head. "No time," you sniffed. "And I wasn't hungry anyway."

"How about we eat dinner, then we'll get ya a bath and cuddle for the rest of the night, a'right?" Johnny suggested, running his hand along your back.

"That sounds nice," you sighed, relaxing against Kyle.

"Alright, you get some more cuddles while we finish up dinner," Simon said, patting your head.

"You wanna go change into something more comfortable, love?" Kyle murmurs as he presses kisses onto the top of your head. You nod and he carries you to the bedroom, gently setting you on the bed.

He turns around and starts rummaging through the dresser while making small talk. You only give short, one-word answers whenever he asks a question, mostly just listening.

"You wanna know what helps me feel better after a stressful day?" he asks, a smirk on his face. You can't see it since his back is still turned towards you, but you can hear it in the tone of his voice that he's up to no good.

"Hm?" you ask, and he turns around and places a pair of sweatpants and one of Simon's shirts on the bed. He walks closer to where you're sitting on the bed and leans down to your level. "An orgasm," he says quietly. "Only if you want to, of course. It's up to you, love."

On one hand, it sounds nice. But on the other hand, you were tired and didn't feel like doing much.

Almost like he read your mind, Kyle rubs your arm and says, "You just have to lay here and look pretty. You know I love giving."

"Please?" you whine, pouting.

"Of course, sweetheart," he said, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. You kissed back, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He slowly pushed you down onto the bed, settling between your legs.

"Let me know if it's too much, yeah?" he murmured as he unbuttoned your shirt. You hummed in agreement, too focused on the feeling of his lips on your skin. He trailed kisses down your neck, sucking and nipping gently.

His hand snaked their way up to your chest, rubbing and squeezing. His hand slipped inside your bra, cupping and fondling your breast. You moan and arch into his touch, loving the attention.

He kissed and sucked his way down your chest, removing his hand from your bra. He quickly undid the button on your pants, sliding the zipper down. You lifted your hips and he pulled them off, tossing them to the side. He slid his hand under your underwear and cupped your pussy.

"Already wet," he purred, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned softly, hips rocking.

"So pretty, laid out for me like this," he murmurs. "Gonna take care of you, baby."

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down. Once they were off, he sat back and stared at your naked body.

"So gorgeous," he muttered, leaning down and kissing your pussy. He slowly licked from your entrance to your clit, flicking it with his tongue.

"Such a sweet girl," he murmured, his mouth vibrating against you. He kissed your thigh before sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. He moved further down, leaving hickeys in his wake.

He reached your inner thigh and bit down harder than before, drawing a loud moan from your throat. He soothed the bite mark with his tongue, moving back up.

"Love you," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. He moved down and licked around your entrance, moaning softly. "God, you taste so good," he groaned. "I could do this all day."

You whimpered, gripping his hair. He hummed and slipped his tongue inside, curling and thrusting it in and out. He reached up and rubbed your clit with his thumb, and your body started trembling.

He continued his assault, alternating between licking and sucking at your clit and thrusting his tongue in and out. Right then, there was a knock on the door and John walked in. "Dinner's rea- oh."

He looked surprised, but not angry. Kyle didn't stop, only smirking at John as he continued eating you out. "Well, I guess you're already eating," John said, walking over and rubbing your hip. Kyle hummed, licking your pussy slowly.

"John," you moaned, reaching for him. He smiled and took your hand, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Kyle's taking good care of you, yeah?"

"Mhm," you sighed. Kyle had moved back down, thrusting his tongue in and out as fast as possible. John chuckled, squeezing your hand.

"You like that, huh?" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You nodded your head and moaned loudly, back arching. Kyle hummed and pressed his tongue deeper inside, rubbing his nose against your clit. You came with a cry, gripping his hair. He continued licking and sucking as you rode out your high, slowing down as your body went slack.

"That's a good girl," John said, patting your thigh. He kissed your cheek and stood, smiling "Come join us when you're ready," he said, turning and leaving.

Kyle looked up at you, smiling. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you replied, nodding.

"Good," he said, kissing your pussy once more. He climbed off the bed and helped you get dressed, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

"Love you," he said, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"I love you too," you replied, burying your face in his side.

He led you out of the room and into the kitchen, where John was already eating and Simon was pouring drinks.

"Hey, bonnie," Johnny said, smiling. "Feeling better?"

You nodded, blushing. Simon walked over and kissed your cheek, handing you a glass of water.

"Glad to hear it," he said, sitting down next to Kyle.

"You're a sneaky bastard, Garrick," Simon whispers, and leans over to kiss his Sergeant on the mouth.

" 'M well aware, Lieutenant," Kyle smirks. "Couldn't resist the opportunity."

Simon chuckled and shook his head, and John smiled at the exchange.

"Come eat, darling," John said, patting the chair next to him. You sat down, and he kissed your cheek, wrapping an arm around you.

"Thank you," you mumbled, leaning into his side.

"Of course, darling," he said, smiling. "You've had a tough day; you deserve a little extra affection."

You blushed, burying your face in his neck. He chuckled and rubbed your side, kissing the top of your head.

After dinner, the five of you watched a movie. You were curled up in Johnny's lap, his strong arms wrapped around you. Simon's head was in your lap, while Kyle was snuggling with John on the loveseat. You were half asleep by the time the movie was over, and Johnny chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

"Ready for bed, bonnie?" he asked, running his hand along your arm.

"Mhm," you mumbled, cuddling closer to him.

"Let's get you to bed then," he said, scooping you up. You nuzzled his neck, sighing softly. He carried you to the bedroom, setting you on the bed.

"You wanna shower first, lovie?" Simon asked when he walked into the bedroom. You nodded your head, and he smiled.

"Okay, darling. We'll be quick," he said, kissing your forehead.

Once everyone was done showering and changing, they climbed into bed. You were laying on top of Simon, John on one side rubbing your back and Kyle and Johnny snuggling on the other.

"Feeling better?" Simon asked, rubbing your side.

"Much better," you mumbled, resting your head on his chest.

"Good," he said, kissing the top of your head.

John leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling.

"We're glad you're feeling better," he said, "Get some rest, darling."

"I love you," you said, yawning.

"We love you too," Simon said, and John nodded.

They were asleep soon after, and you followed suit. Today may have started terribly, but the end definitely made up for it.

a/n: GRAHHH i hate the ending but this has been festering in my drafts for weeks and i wanted it OUT.

divider by @saradika

[notlhecxzsa]

Hidden Love - Scarlett Johansson

Warnings: Very very angsty (only in the start), very mean Scarlett (she gets better, I promise! little miss doesn't know how to handle her feelings ≧⁠▽⁠≦), death, very sad reader, almost drowning

Sum: How can a cold hearted CEO handle her newfound feelings towards one of her employees? Will it be wonderful or a disaster? (This is 8889 words, oh god)

CEO!Scarlett JohanssonXFem!Reader

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°

Y/n's POV:

"Don't worry, Ma. I'll try to send you more money than usual, just rest and do what the doctor's says, okay?" I said on the phone with gentle voice to my mother.

I only have my mother, and unfortunately, she was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. I never knew my dad, and i didn't really grew up having everything i want, and well, need. My mother needed to work 24 hours, and only having a payment that is good for our 2 days food, but she's so strong and determined, that even that's our life situation, i managed to finish my school.

Now, im working, trying to work hard enough to have enough money to take my mother in a chemotherapy, i've been actually saving up for it, and for her operation, which is not really doing well.

She has so many supplements needed that is already half of my payment, and i still have so many bills to pay, from my rent payment, to my electric and water bills, same goes to the house of my mother that she currently lives in right now.

I'm working at J.Corp, short term for, Johansson's Corporation, i work here from 6 in the morning, then to 7 in the evening, then after that, i have my shift to a convinient store from 8 in the evening, to 3 in the morning. Sometimes i don't really eat in order to save enough money, because i really want my mother to go to therapy already.

She's all i have left, and what more could i lose if i lost her too?

"Don't worry about me, darling. I promise you, i will be just fine. Don't forget to eat, okay? Take care of yourself." She said her voice lacing with the comfort that i missed everyday.

"Yes, i know Ma. I'll try to go there when i have enough money-" I was cut off when the voice of my boss rang through the air from the intercom.

"Y/l/n."

I rolled my eyes before bidding my goodbye to my mother, telling her that I'll just call her back later.

Ughh, what does she needs right now?

It's already break time, that means no work. I only hope she's just calling me right now for another free food, because if not, hell will lose.

My work here in this company has ups and down, well, the downs are mostly caused by my very own boss, Scarlett Johansson. I don't know what i did to that woman, because there's not a day where she wouldn't yell at me for completely nothing, or just gives me tons of works, that i know, is supposed to be for the others to work on.

The ups are because of my friends, well, sometimes, it's caused by Ms. Johansson too though. She's just so random sometimes, like in first, she would act all devil to me as if i did something very horrible to her, then the next, she's inviting me to have a lunch with her, sometimes dinner in a very expensive restaurants, which is im very grateful for, but it's all just confusing.

I mean, why me of all people that is on this building, that is probably much more worth her time?

She always manages to get in my nerves, but in all those bad things she does to me, i can't helo but catch feelings for the woman because of every little kind things and gestures she do to me, which i probably found weird, like...she's always mean to me and all, but i mean...she's beautiful, and sometimes can be such a gentlewoman, that so many people here has a crush on her.

But, i always just take those feelings and thoughts aside. Because, well, she always -not just being mean to me- but sometimes, she get on my nerves that it hurts my feelings already, but all i did is to listen to her hurtful words towards me, while wondering what i did wrong.

It's just all exhausting and very rude of her, that sometimes i just find myself crying in the dark while walking to the convinient store. I already have so many problems, and she still adds up, confusing me and hurting me mentally, and it just gets all to much.

But, even if i want to quit already, i can't. This work is what gives me money to survive and help my mother, ofcourse i wouldn't waste it even if i have to go through hell in the process.

"Come in." I heard her say from the other side of the door.

"Yes, Ms. Johansson?" I asked while looking at her, standing just beside the door.

She looked up at me with a stone cold face, she looked at me up and down, almost looking like she's judging every part of like that made me shrink on where i am standing.

I just only hope for one thing, for her to not yell and shout at me, because dude, i am not really having a very good day. I still haven't eaten breakfast, or even lunch, and it's now dinner time, and im trying so hard not to feel weak because i still my have my shift in the convinient store. Then my mom, and...just all.

The payments of the bills will be coming next week, along with my mother's, and thank god, my payment here will be given to me tommorow. That's why i didn't eat, i will just buy more food tommorow.

"Did you already eat?" She asked.

This is what im talking about the small kind gestures of hers, that i don't even know she do with everyone here in the company, or it's just me.

"I-i uhh- i still didn't, Ms. Johansson." I said with my head hung down. I heard her stand up abruptly, then i heard papers scattering around.

"Did you ate lunch?" I shook my head. "Breakfast?" I shook my head.

"Oh come on, for fuck sake, Y/n! We've already talked about this, didn't we? Don't act like a child wanting to be reminded on when to eat, because none of us here want your burden. We can't just have you collapsing out of nowhere because you didn't ate like last time."

And this is what i said about her, being mean and rude and evil and bad, and just all the worse things you can think of.

"I - im sorry, Ms. Johansson..." I heard her click her tounge, before her footsteps walked near me.

"Come with me, let's eat dinner together." I heard her say, before completely walking past me.

"But, Ms. Johansson, i still have a lot of paperworks to do-" I was cut off by her.

"Shut up and just follow me, Y/n." She said with her usual cold tone.

I sighed defeatedly before running after her, stopping at my desk and quickly getting my back. I just followed her like a puppy until we're in her car, and being the 'gentlewoman' that she is, she opened the door for me.

What she said earlier was true, i blacked out because of hunger and stress, but i just told her that i was so busy, because well, im too shy to tell her my life condition, i don't want her judging me when she's always doing it everyday, i can't handle it anymore if she used my life situation to say mean things to me.

I stayed silent the whole drive, fiddling with my fingers as i did so, and occasionally glancing at her. Her jaw are tensed, all of her are tensed. I always try to act all brave, but in inside, i get scared of her sometimes, that i caught myself flinching at the small sounds that i would hear everywhere.

The dinner, well it was silent too, but speaking of the little gestures she do to me, she did what she usually does, cutting the hard pieces of food for me, and literally flooding the table and my plate with tons of foods.

"Your work time is already over, I'll get you home." She said as she started the car.

"Oh- uhm, actually, can you drop me off at the convinient store but the street after your building?" I asked and she looked at me, frowning.

"You're still working there?" She spat out, making me look down, avoiding her burning gaze. "Didn't i told you to quit working there already? You're living all by yourself, you didn't need to work there too, to survive for the living..."

I do, Scarlett. Unfortunately, i fucking do.

"No wonder why you always pass me late paperworks." She said, and i can see in my peripheral vision that she's shaking her head.

All i wanna do is to cry as she drive the car. How can she say those things to me when she doesn't even know what and how my life is like?

"Thank you, for the dinner." I said once we stopped infront of the store.

"Just get out." She said without even sparing me a glance.

"Bye, drive safely." I muttered before getting out, once i was out, she drove almost instantly.

I felt tears brimmed out of my eyes, but quickly wiped it and shook my head while taking a deep breaths.

It's okay. It's going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

No one's POV:

"Bye, drive safely." Scarlett heard the soft tone of the woman she loves for 3 years.

It's hard to love Y/n in the dark, and be a devil when she's infront of the woman as if she didn't fantasize about Y/n walking down the aisle as she waited on the altar, or having a multiple kids with the younger girl and just living the best life with her.

"Just get out." Scarlett internally cringed and cursed herself for sounding so mean.

Every mean words that would come out of her mouth to Y/n's ear, she would immediately feel guilty and get completely mad at herself.

As much as she wants to be kind and apologize to the poor girl already, she can't just risk it. All of it. She scared and terrified that if ever they got more closed, then Scarlett might no be able to control herself and be all obsessed with Y/n. And she's too traumatized at her past relationship, that it gets in her head when she thinks of having Y/n as her girlfriend.

What if she got hurt again? Or what if she hurt the most genuine person she knows? The only woman who she truly love for all her life. As much as it's a very idiotic thing for her to do those things to the pure woman, she just can't help but do it.

Not that it makes her happy or anything in the latter, but it's most likely just her way of having Y/n's attention, because whenever she'd alone at her, she gets to have Y/n all for herself. She's just so stubborn to makes everything easy and better with her relationship with Y/n.

She knows she's being shit and all, and that anytime, she might lose her girl, but this is the only way she can think of to do, due to what she had been through her life, not just her past relationship.

She don't even have any idea why Y/n is still working for her. But, this time, with the help of her friend's -Lizzie's- words, she knows that this gotta stop soon. Which is her goal. She's just trying to find the courage, and the right words to say, and hoping that she will not gonna be too late for that.

She loved you from the moment you walked through her office door, she's just too scared to admit it to herself, and as days and months passed, she found herself being wrapped up around you finger.

She knows what she's doing is sometimes getting out of line, but due to her stress and on what she's been through, that's just kind of her things, which is not good, but she will surely change it, not just for herself, but especially for you, and you only.

"You gotta stop treating Y/n like that, she's the kindest person i know, and she doesn't deserve to be treated anything like that, Scarlett."

She still remembers Lizzie's words in her mind like it's tattooed there already. But, not to worry, she'll be asking for your forgiveness soon enough, and she'll do everything, even if she needs to get on her knees and kiss your feet.

All i well and peaceful as she sit on her desk chair, listing everyone who she will be paying for tommorow, and you're one of those people, she figured that maybe, this is gonna be a good timing to apologize to you, she can just order you to come to her penthouse that is on the top floor of this building and tell you that she'll give you the money there, then she'll apologize.

That's a good idea, right? Right.

A ding from her phone caught her attention, she immediately clicked the message of one of her men's, that she hired to watch over you. Yeah, she's too possessive like that.

Anger immediately rose inside her body, as the apologies she's planning to do faded in her mind like bubbles. It's a video of you, being held by a man she knows all to well. It's the man that is always hugging you from every video her men's sends her, who is also your co worker at the store.

She doesn't want to think things too fast, but she just can't help but thought of what's your connection with that man. She once asked you about your love life and you said you're single, but this man keeps making her think otherwise.

Anger, jealousy and all rose inside her body, until all of it filled her up completely.

Maybe she can just do the apologies in another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n's POV:

Today is the day im gonna have my payment.

After a whole breakdown last night at the store, i am feeling very well right now, thanks to my a good friend of mine, Max, he's a boy. He's very kind enough to comfort me and even walked me home, things like that are normal to us, plus, i would trust him with my life, not that because he's my friend, but because i know he won't take advantage of me or anything because he's very gay.

I'm now walking towards to Ms. Johansson's office, instantly warning at the lack of seeing people on the way. Usually, when it's the day of paying off, so many people would be scattering around her, but now? It's dead silence, only the sound of silent conversing, and the typing on keyboards. I was gonna knock on the door already, but i was stopped when Samantha called me out.

"Y/n! Hey! Ms. Johansson said you'll be receiving your payment up there." I frowned instantly.

"Are you guys have been payed already?" I asked, turning my whole body to her.

"Yeah, you didn't know? She sent us all a messages saying that we need to go here earlier than usual..." She explained unsurely.

"No...she didn't...." I trailed of on my words.

I bid Sam a goodbye and said that im gonna go upstairs. I quickly ran towards the elevator with my heart pounding in my chest.

What if she's gonna give me my last payment because she'll gonna fire me now?

Oh god, oh god, oh god-

I was brought out of my trance when the ding of the elevator rung out, i quickly walk towards inside, trying to find a trace of Ms. Johansson, while calling her name. I soon stopped when i saw her laying at a pool bench, sunbathing with just a a piece swimsuit.

I blushed and looked down, trying to avoid her smooth and bright skin.

"Ms. Johansson." I made my presence known, and in my peripheral vision, i felt her looked up, then stand up, there's a movements came from her but i didn't looked up.

"Ms. Y/l/n..." I can hear her voice that she has a smirk. "You can look up now." And i did, and saw her in a robe.

"Ms. Johansson, im here to take my payment." I said politely, giving her a tight small smile, but it was soon turn into a frown when i saw her face fell.

"Ooh, that....right. Well, actually, Ms. Y/l/n, you wouldn't be receiving anything." I frowned, as i felt my heart fell.

"W-what? Why? W-what did i do?" I stammered, my heart is now hammering in my chest.

"What did you do? Why don't you think about the days i always yelled at you for failing almost all of the paperwork i gave you? Did you forget about all that already?" She said with a sadistic tone.

I avoided her gaze, instead i gaze forwards, which is enough to not see her eyes, since she's a lot taller than me.

"No, i didn't, Ms. Johansson. But, as far as i can remember, i already made all my mistakes right. And...not all the time of you, calling me in your office, was because i did something wrong." I can't help but let out that harshly than i intended it to be.

I really need that money, and there's no way i will get out here without that.

"Oooh, getting too confident now, are we, Ms. Y/l/n?" She said with a teasing tone.

I can't help but feel humiliated in our current situation, and it makes me feel so small that all i want to do is to die or just jump right off of this building.

"Ms. Johansson, please, i really need the money. I will do everything you'll say, just please..." I pleaded, maybe being too confident and fighting back would just make her not give it to me.

"Anything?" She asked, and i nodded.

"Anything." I said, looking up at her. I saw a glint in her eyes, but it was soon faded.

"This is what you want, right?" She waved the stack of dollar in the air with her hand, and i nodded, before widening my eyes at the next action she made.

"Then get it." She said as she throw the money to the large swimming pool she has here.

I don't know how to swim, my body turned cold, but the desperation got the best of me.

Without that money, i will not have the chance to pay my bills. I need that. Most importantly, my mother needs that.

"What are you waiting for?" I flinch at her voice, looking back up at her with tears in my eyes.

I felt so little, like a slave, and so poorly humiliated. My heart aches at the thought of someone, treating me like this. I know that she is much up there than me who is literally living like a stray puppy, but she has no rights to do this to me.

She is so evil.

I saw how her eyes changed its look, it's like she got taken back about something, but before she can even utter i look back at the deep swimming pool, where all the dollars are floating.

I took a deep breath, before swallowing the lump on my throat. I walk fastly to the pool, then jump, with one thing on my mind.

This is for my mother.

I heard her voice called me out, but i didn't cared, and tried my best to get all of the money, while trying to gasp for air everytime i came to the surface, only to realize that im literally in the middle of the pool.

With every jump from the bottom, i realized that im at the very deep, my movements became frantic as i felt myself losing so much oxygen, while i kept hearing her muffled voice screaming my name worriedly.

I already drank the water, and some went through my nose, i was gonna reach out for another dollar when i felt a strong big arms wrapped itself around me, and the next thing i know, i was gasping for air while holding the wet money in my hands tightly.

I hope my asthma doesn't attack me right now.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why the fuck did you do that? You could've died!" She yelled and i flinch while still gasping, and looked at the pool to see that there's still left, i was gonna jump again, but her strong masculine arms caught me.

"Hey! Stop! Stop!" She yelled, trapping me completely in her arms.

I couldn't take it anymore, my chest is burning, along with the pain im feeling right now. I sobbed, and cried hard not caring of what her reaction will be.

"H-hey.." Her voice sounded as if she was being strangled.

"Get off of me..." I breathed out, i want to vomit, maybe because of the amount of water i drunk and i felt it hard to breathe. "T-there's still more...i-i n-need to get that...my-my m-mom needs i-it..." I stammered, my tone is completely broken.

"P-please...i-i need to get it.." I thrashed around her arms, but then she hugged me, completely trapping me in her arms.

"Hey, hey, darling...it's okay, you don't have to get that...shhh, shhh, im sorry, i-im sorry..." Even me, i couldn't recognize her voice.

I stopped thrashing around, but still continue to gasp for air, my cries and sobs filled through the air. I felt so helpless, so poor, humiliated, and very desperate.

I looked down at the money in my arms, avoiding the sweet nothings she kept whispering in my ears. Her voice sounded soft, it tweaks, and sometimes it breaks, like she's crying.

"I-it's still n-not enough..." I said breathlessly. "Get off of me." I demanded weakly. "Please, stop making it all so hard for me...please...i just wanted my money...please...i can't- i cant do this anymore." I whispered brokenly, trying to push her death grip on me.

She kept muttering an apologies, then comforting words, but all i felt towards her is hatred, madness and all the worse things to feel.

We stayed like that until i calmed down. I'm still breathing unevenly, and i know im having my asthma. I'm shaking and all, with my lips quivering as i sob quietly. I don't know what's happening to her as she's holding me tightly, while whispering apologies to me.

Out of nowhere she picked me up ever so gently, while still whispering that it's all gonna be okay, and she's so so sorry. With all the things that had happened, i felt so weak, so weak that i can't even open my mouth because of exhaustion, im still gripping the money that is in my hand.

She went inside her penthouse while still carrying me, both of my hand is on my chest, clutching it together as i still feel my chest tightening, then the side of my head is on her shoulder.

I felt so weak.

My body is still shaking, and I don't know how to stop it.

I felt so cold, and i know that im going to be sick for days.

Why does Scarlett have to be mean to me?

My lips wobbled at my thoughts, as a strangled sob came out of it.

"Shhh, im sorry, im sorry....stop crying already, baby. It hurts my heart to see you cry..." I'm too exhausted to even manage to think what she just said as the next thing i know is she put me on the bathtub.

"N-no...i wanna go home..." I protested weakly, shaking my head as i look at up at her, to see her already looking up at me.

"No, you'll stay here, you'll stay here. It's okay, im sorry please, stay here...stay here for now, please....let me just take care of you, yeah?" She pleaded making me frown at her attitude, but i shook my head.

"N-no...t-the money, i need i-" I was cut off by her.

"The money will be fine, sweetheart. I'm your boss, you'll do as i said." She demanded with a soft tone. I didn't utter a word anymore, then look down.

"Can you give me that for a second, love?" She pointed at the money in my hand, i opened my hand and she took it then out it on the table beside the little table beside the bathtub, but not before kissing my head and saying 'good girl'. Then she took my face with her hands, looking at me with the most softest look she's given me.

"Don't worry about the money, okay?" She asked softly, and i nodded.

"But, i need it.." I said.

"I know, but don't worry about it for now, okay? Clean yourself first- do you need any help?" She asked and i shook my head.

"Okay, im just gonna be right outside the bathroom, okay? I'll get you some clothes and there's a brush and extra towels there, okay?" She pointed at the drawer under the sink.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" I nodded once again, and she smiled a little before kissing my head, leaving a lingering kiss there that felt so different.

She left and i started cleaning myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlett's POV:

As soon as i close the bathroom door, i sighed, leaning my head against it.

Why did i do that? Fuck.

Everything felt so wrong, my heart shattered into pieces as the earlier moments ran through my mind once again. Just thinking of how desperate she was earlier to get the money hurt me in the most impossible way, and the thought of her, almost dying because of what i did, is slowly killing me. The look on her face, fuck. It's all plastered in the back of my head, and the scenes kept playing without a stop.

An idea came into my mind, i quickly get her some clothes first, which is probably gonna be too big for her, i put it outside the bathroom door, on the table beside it. Then, i quickly pulled out my phone, dialing Wanda, not before walking far away enough from the bathroom.

"Hey, Lizzie?" I asked.

"Hey, Scar. What's up?" She asked.

"I need you to do me a favor." I said, then get straight to the point.

I told her to do a background check on Y/n's personal life, and do everything to see what my girl's life is really like. Then i told her what had happened, which she scolded me for. I told her my plan on getting Y/n and then after that, she made me promised to not to do something bad to Y/n again, or she said, she'll steal the girl from me, which made me a little aggressive, and cursed her through the phone, then we said goodbye.

After the phone call, i felt presence behind me, making me look around and saw Y/n standing there, looking so adorable and pretty as ever. My clothes is so big for her, but it makes my heart melt at the sight. Though, my heart still aches because she wouldn't even look at me straight in the eyes.

"I- uh, im gonna take my money now, then go home." Her voice is raspy, i quickly made a move walking to the kitchen then getting a glass of water.

"Come here, please." I said softly, while pouring a water in the glass.

She looked at me for a second, and when she caught me staring at her she quickly looked down, before hesitantly walking towards the kitchen countertop.

"Take a seat." I said with soft voice.

Now's my only chance, well, if i still have.

I slide the glass towards her and told her to drink it, which she did, almost downing it in just a 10 seconds. I watch her every movements with longing eyes, as my heart shatter on how afraid she seemed infront of me. It took me everything in my power to not to let my tears fall of.

I knew, by the moment and scenes we had earlier, i knew i already went beyond the line, and i will stop it right here. No procrastinations anymore. I walked towards her and stop by here side until im just a few inches from her. My arms are aching to be wrapped around her, while i beg for forgiveness, which i know i don't deserve, but i can still try, right?

I saw how she became tensed, but still continue on infront of her at a black space. I see her hands that is on the table shaking a little, which breaks my heart a little more, and i see her chest heaved as she breath.

"Y/n..." I called out softly, with my voice slightly wavering. "Can you look at me, hun? Please?" I asked, as i raised my hands to touch her cheeks, but quickly stopped when i saw her flinch and shielded her hands infront of her face.

I can hear my heart shattering into pieces, goosebumps started to form on my skin. I couldn't help and stop the tears that brimmed out of my eyes as i look down at her.

"P-please...i just wanna go home with my money..." She whispered so brokenly.

"Y/n...." I breathed out, but she put her hands down while shaking her head, now looking at me.

"P-please, j-just give me my money, and I'll quit, y-you won't see me anymore, just please, let me go in peace. I can't take what you're doing to me anymore....i promise, I'll quit." She rambled, and my heart stopped at the words she said.

"You can hurt me all you want if that's what will get you to give me my money, do anything- everything you want, yell at me, hurt me, slap me, i-i don't care, just give me my money, please, my- my mother needs it..." She pleaded, with her hands clasped and her eyes full of tears while looking up at me.

Tears are now streaming down on my face, the look she's giving me now, and along with the words she's saying is breaking me apart.

"Stop saying those things, i-i would never hurt you, okay?" I demanded, my voice getting hard.

Why would she thought im gonna hurt her? I would never dare or even think about laying a finger on her.

Am i that bad to her, for her to think this way?

"...and i will never gonna shout at you again, okay?..." My hands seems to have their own mind as it unconsciously went to her soft cheeks, caressing it as soon as they landed on the soft skin. "I'm sorry, im really sorry, not just for the things that i did today, but for all the things i did to you. I-i i never meant any mean words that i told you, it's very hard to explain it right now, but i promise you, there's something behind those things on why i treated you like that. Just please, don't leave, okay? Don't quit on me, please...." I pleaded looking down at her as my thumb continued on caressing her cheeks.

She looked down, and let out a sob.

"But, im tired..." She breathed out brokenly. "I'm so tired." She sobbed out before looking at me with mixed emotions in her eyes.

"You don't know how much you always hurt me everyday by those mean words you say to me, you don't know h-how i feel when i would walked out of you office with my head down ashamed of how much they might've probably think of how idiot i am because everyday, you'll scream at me. You don't know how i felt so humiliated, so little with everything that you did to m-me. I hate you. I despise you." She whispered the last 2 sentence with full of hatred and dark tone.

I sobbed out, before pulling her in my arms, her head is on my chest, i hold her tightly as i sobbed while chanting an apologies. She kept pushing me, but i made no move on pulling away, that it seemed to might've got in her nerves as she weakly punched me in the chest repeatedly. She's too thin and small than me, so it's no use.

I always told her to eat, and always makes her come with me to eat, because i hate how she looked so malnourished.

Maybe, later the day, i hope to find out what her personal life is really like. I have a feeling that it's nowhere near the words of good life, because of how desperate she is on getting the money, but whatever it will be, i took a mental note on helping her with it, it doesn't matter if she would decline or not, because i will surely do anything to help her, and she can't stop me.

"I know, i know you hate me, it's okay, shhh...there you go, punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want, it's okay..." I said with gentle tone while still holding her tightly.

She kept thrashing around, but i just keep her in lock in my arms, while still whispering comforting words and apologies to her ear occasionally. Fortunately, soon enough, she calmed down.

She's sniffling, and coughing, and she's still shaking, making me feel very worried. I pour a water on the glass with my hand one, while the other is still holding her, then i give it to her.

"Can you drink this for me, darling?" I ask gently, she didn't do anything, so i asked once again.

"Please, drink this? You need to drink water, so you'll still gonna be hydrated." I said softly, and this time, she shook her head.

"I wanna go home..." I sighed defeatedly, i kissed her head and put the glass down.

I took her face with my one hand, pulling it towards me for her gaze to be on me. Her face has no emotions, but her eyes says it all. She's tired, exhausted, even. And i know it's my fault. Her eyes are bloodshot red, same goes to her nose, there's so many stained tears on her cheeks, just by looking at her face made me more mad at myself, and felt extremely more guilty.

"I'm gonna let you go home with your money, I'll even double it, but promise me you're not gonna quit. I mean, even if you really do consider it, i won't let you, but say it to my face that you won't quit, or else-" She cut me off.

"Or else what?" She asked.

"Or else you won't gonna get to step outside, and i will lock you in here." I said with my dominant voice, before silence elope around us.

"Why are you being like this to me?" She asked with the smallest voice, after a minutes of silence.

"Because, i like- love you. I love you, since the first day you walked through my office door, i didn't want to admit it to myself because im scared, but as months passed by, i fell more harder for you, and i-...i couldn't stop it anymore-" She cut me off, once again.

"Please, stop with the bullshit-" I frowned and immediately cut her off.

"Stop saying it's just a bullshit things , because it's not." I said with an offended tone.

"Because it is. How can you say you love me after all the things you have done to me? After how you treated me like shit, as if im just someone who's born to be treated like that?" She quickly interfered making me shut up.

I mean, i have my reasons, but i know deep inside me, it's not that even good enough and too reasonable to say.

I'm too lost in my thoughts because the next thing i know is she easily got out of my arms.

"I won't gonna quit, if you would just give me my money, and let me leave peacefully. And, please, if you really are sorry, stop treating me like an animal, and start treating me like a human." That broke my heart, knowing i really did already got beyond the line.

I was too stunned to speak as all i can do i to watch her her her things, and when she's done, she stopped infront of me. I snapped out of my thoughts, and told her to wait until i get the money. I quickly walk to my office, and took a couple stacks of dollars, that is probably 10x more than her usual payment, but i didn't care.

She frowned when i put it on her hands, then looked at me confusedly.

"It's all yours." I said, with a small smile.

"No, im not gonna accept this just because you pity me or anything." She said while giving me the other stacks, and keeping what is rightfully hers.

"No, you don't have to want it, but i insist. Please, just- just take it." I said, giving her the money, but she shook her head before stepping away from me.

"I don't need that, just give it to those who needs it the most." She said before completely walking away.

I tried to call her, but she just continue to walk until she stopped infront of the elevator. I stand up, running after her as she got in, she turned around and looked at me, tears are visible in her eyes.

"No." She said weakly, but i didn't stopped and continue walking towards the elevator.

"Stop!" She demanded, and i stopped.

I saw the elevator doors closing little by little, a lone tear made its way down on my face, just like hers, but hers are more.

"Y/n..." I called out unknowingly.

"Scarlett..." She quickly said with the same tone as me, as if we're greeting each other, but this one, we have a sad tone.

Soon enough, the elevator closed, i walked towards it completely, before throwing multiple hard punches on it. Tears are now completely streaming down my face, as her name longingly slipped out of my lips while i sob.

Did i lose my chances already?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No One's POV:

"Hey, guys- wait, where's my desk?" Y/n was supposed to greet her friend, but stopped mid way as she took notice of her missing desk.

"Oh god, thank god, you're here! We're gonna ask you the same thing!" Samantha exclaimed worriedly, as Gab nodded.

Y/n felt her heart pounding. What if she's been fired? I mean, there's some good things there, she won't gonna experience being with someone so evil, but she's not ready, by the way Scarlett acted yesterday, saying she won't let Y/n quit. So many thoughts run through her mind, as her friends waited for her answer, the raspy voice boomed from the intercom.

"Ms. Y/l/n, come to my office, please."

Surprisingly, Scarlett's voice is not that cold and scary, it's soft, warm, and she even used a please.

"Go, tell us what happened, okay?" Gab said, and Y/n nodded before turning to her heels and walking towards the office with so many thoughts running through her mind.

She knocked on the door, receiving a soft come in, before she completely went inside. Her eyes quickly landed on a extra desk that is on the corner, with boxes on top of it. She averted her gaze and looked at Scarlett, who is looking at her with soft eyes and small smile?

"Come here. Take a seat." Scarlett softly commanded and Y/n nodded obeying what Scarlett had said.

"Uh- Ms. Johansson, may i ask where's my desk? I mean, my work desk, the one where i work, it's not there when i arrive-" Y/n rambled, avoiding Scarlett's eyes as if she's scared, well, she's nervous, but Scarlett's heart shatter at the thought of Y/n being scared of her.

Scarlett swallowed the lump on her throat, before clearing it. "That's actually the reason why i called you here. From now on, you'll be working here, in this office with me. That..." Scarlett pointed at the desk. "..is yours, and your paperwork will be lessen, but you'll gonna be with me- always gonna be with me everyday and everytime." Scarlett explained, Y/n frowned.

"Is my time here is still the same?" Y/n asked, and Scarlett shook her head.

"You'll go home, once i go home. You'll go here, once i go here. So practically, you're time will be from 7 in the morning, to 10 in the evening." Y/n frowned, but she didn't said anything.

What about her job at the convinient store?

It's as if Scarlett can read her mind, Scarlett speak up.

"And your job at the store is gone, but your payment here will be triple, so you don't have to worry about that. I already talked to the owner of the store, and she immediately agreed." Well, more like, she payed the owner.

Triple of my payment? That's too much. Y/n thought.

"Any question, Ms. Y/l/n?" Scarlett asked, and Y/n shook her head.

"None, Ms. Johansson, thank you. I'll be starting my work now." Y/n said and stood up, but Scarlett stopped her.

"Wait." Scarlett immediate said, making Y/n stop and turned her body to face Scarlett, but still not meeting the older woman's gaze. "...can you look at me?...please..." That's all it took for Y/n to look at Scarlett slowly.

Y/n saw many emotions on Scarlett's face, there's a small frown, her lips are in a thin line, her eyes are slightly red and smaller than it usually are.

"Did you already eat?" No.

Y/n nodded.

"Y-yeah, i-i already ate." She didn't, she already sent all her money to her mother, despite her mother's declines and disagreements, she still did.

Tho, she left money for her bills and all, and a little for her food for a week or 2, but, it's just like for, 1 food for a day.

Even with her best lying action, Scarlett still saw right through Y/n, and she took a mental note on putting more food on Y/n's plate later for lunch and dinner.

"Okay, you may go now." Scarlett said with a soft tone, and Y/n nodded before walking to her desk, arranging all her things again.

Days, week, and a few months goes by, it gets better, it's slow, but there's an improvement on their relationship. Unfortunately, not for Y/n's mother's health.

Scarlett always do this little things that made Y/n's heart soften towards the older woman. Everyday she went to work, there's gonna be a food on her desk, when she would look at Scarlett in curiosity, she would see her being busy and all. Tho, there's no name on it, she knows very well that it's from the blonde woman.

And since everyday, they are together, her heart soften more at the little gestures that the woman does to her, she would open up the door for Y/n, she's very kind towards her now, she's not shouting anymore, and! Everyday, and i mean, everyday, and there's even an exact time that Y/n would recieve different types of flowers, she confronted Scarlett about it, but Scarlett just always changes the topic, after saying; "It's from me, now...blah blah blah...."

Sometimes, Y/n catch Scarlett looking at her, then looked away as if she's not been staring at the younger woman's soul. And ofcourse, with all of those things, it did something to Y/n, but she's just too scared to admit it and figure it out for herself.

Until one night, one moment led to something more.

"Hey, did you guys saw Y/n by any chance?" Scarlett asked Y/n's friends, as she look for the small girl at the crowd of so many people.

There's currently a party for a successful year on their company, and Scarlett decided to throw a big party, with everyone who is working for her, along with other business man and woman who they got to collab in this years events.

Scarlett did saw Y/n earlier, but there's so many interruptions here and there, and she lost her girl. Now, she got the chance to find her as the party started, since they already have a great enough relationship with each other, maybe it's time for Scarlett to move?

We don't want anyone getting you instead of Scarlett, do we?

"Oh, yeah, she actually went home already." Samantha said, and Scarlett nodded before saying thank you.

Taking a few deep breaths, Scarlett told the people who are in charge of the party to guide all the people and to finish this in a few hours already, saying she'll gonna call it a night already.

After that, she quickly went to her car, driving as fast as she could to Y/n's house, with a very nervous nerve and afraid feeling. What if she got rejected? No. I mean, either way she'll always gonna find a solutions to get to call Y/n hers.

Soon enough, she arrived. Some lights are still on, thank god, so she knocked 3 times, only to recieve no answer, so she did it again until she got tired and took it on her own hands to get inside, fortunately it not locked. I mean, she's her boss,and she's worried so what's wrong with trespassing inside of her secretary? Nothing.

"Y/n..." She called out softly, but nothing responded, instead as she walk more steps, her heart broke at the sound he heard.

It's Y/n's voice, she knows it, and the girl is clearly crying, and Scarlett became too desperate to find out. Curiosity got the best of her, and wandered around the small apartment more, until she stopped as soon as the sight of Y/n curled up in ball in a small couch went to her gaze.

She sees the girl shaking, sobbing loudly, a wrecked phone beside her feet, as she hold her face in her shaking hands. Y/n's shoulder is shaking violently, and Scarlett took no hesitation on walking towards her, slowly.

"Y/n..." The younger woman's head whipped at the sound of her name, quickly scrambling around to stand up and fix herself.

"Ms. Johansson-, what are you doing here?" Y/n asked avoiding the CEO's gaze.

Y/n looks so broken, even her voice sounded the same, it sounded so timid that it sounded like in any minute, she'll be bursting in tears. Her chest heaved up and down, almost chaotically, making Scarlett more worried.

She's shaking, her shoulders are violently shaking. She's still in her black dress, a dress that made Scarlett completely mesmerized, and became more simp for the younger woman. Even with her situation right now, Scarlett still finds her the most gorgeous woman that she had ever laid her eyes on.

She'll always gonna be the best girl for Scarlett.

"I was looking for you at the party, your friends told me you might've came home already...." Scarlett started off softly as she scanned the girl. "The door is opened, and I let myself in already, I hope you don't mind." Her heart broke at how Y/n looks so defeated.

"Oh- uh no... I don't mind." Y/n's voice is wavering. "W-what- what uhm-... What do you need, Ms. Johansson?" Y/n asked, still avoiding Scarlett's eyes, as she gaze at her broken cheap phone beside her feet.

Instead of answering, Scarlett decided to walk towards her, her feet softly padding on the old floor as she walk towards Y/n who became tensed at the sudden action, but nevertheless, Scarlett continued until she's just a few inches away from Y/n.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett started off softly, before bringing her head up to Y/n's cheeks, wiping some tears off softly. "What happened? Why are you crying, sweetheart?" As much as it warmed Y/n's heart, she gently pulled her face away from Scarlett's hands, making it fall down slowly.

"I-it's nothing-"Y/n was cut off by her own sob, as she uncontrollably broke down once again, her hands quickly going to her face.

"Hey, hey..." Scarlett brought the younger woman in a big hug, almost covering Y/n's whole body with her tall and masculine one.

Y/n's body rocked in sobs as Scarlett hold he tightly, the older woman's hand going up and down on Y/n's back comfortingly.

"Can you tell me what happened? It's okay if you don't want to, but i'm here okay? You can talk to me of whatever. None of that already, please?" Scarlett's voice wavered at the end, her heart breaking at the sight of Y/n and the sound of her loud broken sobs.

"N-no, y-you can g-go, Scarlett. I'll just do w-whatever you want with me t-tommorow..." Y/n tried to get away from Scarlett's grip, pushing her chest away slightly motioning that she wants to get away, but Scarlett only tightened her grip on the younger woman.

"Y/n." Scarlett said softly but sternly, demandingly rather, as if she doesn't want Y/n to do the actions again.

Y/n stopped, before a pit of sobs broke out of her once again, letting her body fall on to Scarlett chest, the comfort of the older woman is spreading her body like a wildfire, making her ask for more.

"Shhhh, it's gonna be okay, my darling. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be with you, I promise, I'll be by your side, yeah?" Scarlett pulled away slightly to have a good look on Y/n, one of her hand is still on Y/n's waist.

"M-mom..." Y/n started, looking down. "My Mom's g-gone, Scarlett... I-i'm all alone now..." Once again, she cried, sobbing loudly before leaning in towards Scarlett.

Scarlett felt her skin became cold, her heart hammered in the inside of her chest.

It can't be. She already gave Y/n's mother the best doctors, and everyday making sure that everything is going well, all that with and without Y/n's knowledge.

Y/n knows that Scarlett is partially helping through her mother's therapy and all, but she didn't know that Scarlett is also the one who's paying for the expenses on the expensive hospital where her mother was in.

Scarlett even met Y/n's mother already, asking for her mother's blessing on having Y/n as her girlfriend, which Y/n's mother already gave Scarlett freely. Being the charming woman she is, she always visited Y/n's mother until she got what she wanted, showing her good intentions and all.

All that without Y/n's knowledge, but that enough for Scarlett to be calm knowing that no one can have her girl, except her and her only.

But now, Y/n's mother is gone, it saddened her, broke her heart even, she became utterly close with the woman, treating her like her own mother, while the woman treated her like her own daughter.

A part of her is somehow, relieved, thinking that Y/n's mother is already at peace, and knowing that she already promised to Y/n's mother that she'll protect her daughter for forever and eternity.

And she will.

She will never let Y/n feel that she's alone, she's here.

"I'm here." Scarlett said with much determination.

"I will always gonna be here, no matter how much you pushed me away, or whatever. And if you'll let me, I will give you the love I have been meaning to give you all along." Scarlett said softly, and hearing Y/n's sobs quite down she became nervous, as Y/n slowly look up at Scarlett with mixed emotions in her eyes.

Y/n doesn't know if she wants to believe what she's hearing or not, Scarlett had already shown her every thing for her to confirm that the older woman has a feelings for her, she fell for it, and now, hearing Scarlett saying this, it somehow brought the chaotic thoughts calm down about Scarlett in her mind.

And as they look at each other in each passing seconds, both of their hearts grew, and from that moment, Scarlett knew that everything she had been waiting for, the 'forever' she's been looking for, for so long, has now been found.

Her forever is now found.

And she doesn't have any intention of letting it slipped out of her hand, not for forever.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Wow, I never thought that this would get out of my drafts 😭 I just want to thank @thewidowsledger for giving me all the things that I really need to hear to continue my writing journey, thank you so much, Den! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) (Would you like a part 2 for this, everyone?)

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."